The per-Blip cost of these tulips is going down almost as I look at them. Which is nice.
It’s been an odds and ends kind of day today: I’ve done a minuscule amount of work, and quite a lot of tidying of photo files; R and I went out for
cake emergency bird supplies; and the burglar alarm man came to do the annual check, which involves shifting stuff about so that he can access the cupboard where the main control panel lives – and then shifting it all back again when he’s finished.
The same man has been doing our alarm check for about a decade now, and in all of that time I don’t think he’s said more than a few dozen words per visit to me, but today R was in and dealt with him, and the loud chattering and laughter that kept drifting up the stairs caused me some consternation. R’s normal demeanour towards strangers tends to suggest that he would very much rather they stepped around him and went on their way, ideally without speaking, and not many people overcome the force field, so the fact that he and Burglar Alarm Man were clearly getting on like a house on fire was… perplexing. I’d just about come to the conclusion that they’d discovered they were long-lost cousins, when R came upstairs, and explained in answer to my enquiry that Burglar Alarm Man is a former roadie.
I see: it’s a music thing. R hasn’t had a personality transplant, and I don’t have to update the family tree. The earth continues to spin on its usual axis.
That’s a relief.