Improvisation

We were slightly at sixes and sevens yesterday because the Professor was organising himself for a week away, the library suddenly demanded a recall which had to be got into the post, it was the Huntly Two’s birthdays (they are three days apart) and they came over to say hello, plus there was the usual stuff of enough dog food, cat food, me food, shampoo, etcetera, to amange for a week when it will be far from easy to get to a shop. It was pretty much inevitable, therefore, that something else would go slightly wrong. I was trying to get the last out of the shampoo bottle (yes, I did remember to buy some more), gave it a vigorous shake, and inadvertently hit myself in the eye with its base – not hard, but it knocked out my contact lens, which ended up somewhere in the bath. They do pick their moments: the last time I lost one we were just about to go on holiday. However, I was not in a mood for being messed about: we put a coffee filter in the plughole and left the bath draining with infinite slowness – in the morning, there was my lens, sitting on the bottom. I have a pair of beta lenses which I’m wearing today while the one which got in the bath has a thorough soak and clean, but all seems to be well. Meanwhile, another improvisation is about to reach the launch pad. Olga is no longer well enough to work, but Tony the gardener happened to be in for a cuppa when we were having a crisis about it, and offered us an unorthodox solution. He used to be in the army and  is perfectly familiar with keeping the mess down in an officers’ mess. Mrs Tony is in theory willing to help, but her father isn’t well so she’s in England. For the time being, Tony will become a houseman, with the thought that as the year goes on, they might both come, and either Mrs Tony will do house while he does garden, or they can work together on one then t’other. Well, who knows. It might work.