Despite Friday night being a gig night, we were up relatively early on Saturday because we had a lot to do. Well, a big job that would take some time. Shopping. I started by doing the regular weekly shopping bill, but as we were off to Meadowhall as well, I had another list to write. We were buying holiday clothes. Or supplementary holiday clothes to add to the ones we already have.
We must have done a lot of other faffing on Saturday morning too, because we were still home at midday when we had our midday breakfast. Once we’d eaten, though, we were off out. To the home store first to replenish mealworms and suet pieces for the birds, and then to the supermarket.
We didn’t go straight to Meadowhall, though. When we’d done the weekly shop, we took it home, put it all away, and had something else to eat. Our 3pm dinner. Then we were off out again to buy clothes. The poet treated us both, which was a nice surprise. We came back armed with 2 pairs of shorts each, a pair of tracky bottoms for me, 4 t-shirts for him, 3 t-shirts for me, and underwear.
When we got home, we tried it all on then threw out a load of old stuff that was due for replacement. Far more than we’d bought. There was so much stuff, we filled half a wheelie bin! Then we had a rest, to recover from all that spending, but also to recover all of that walking. According to my pedometer, I’d walked nearly 10,000 steps. Just shopping.
I started off a trifle (made from scratch, not made out of a box), and we had leftover pizza for tea from the night before.
Sunday we were up with the lark again – for us. Because we were going out for the day. It was supposed to be a gardening weekend, but the poet had already cut all the lawns twice and we had things to buy for the campervan to take on our roadtrip later in the month. We did our due research and found a campervan showroom with accessory shop on the outskirts of Lincoln city centre.
The poet went to fetch the campervan from storage because he wanted to sterilise the water supply. He dropped sterilising tablets into the empty tank then filled it up. The idea was to then take it out on a good run to slosh it all around before emptying it again.
Lincoln isn’t that far from us, but we’d set off before our midday breakfast. So we pulled in to eat that at noon. Rather than breakfast bars, I’d measured out our cereal into bowls and we took a pint of milk with us, plus cafetière coffee in a flask for him and boiling water in a flask for me to make tea. We arrived at the showroom and spent a long time just looking at the coachbuilds there. Ours is a conversion because we didn’t think we’d ever find one with what we wanted inside, but there were actually several.
We took a few pictures, and took away a few ideas and made a note of the campervans we liked, to see what kind of price they were selling at privately. When the poet looked later, he saw several that were £20,000 cheaper than the ones at the dealership. Food for thought for when we’re ready to upgrade.
Unfortunately, the accessory shop was closed, despite the website saying it was open. So we came away without anything we’d planned to buy. So we availed ourselves of the facilities that were open then pointed the van homeward. We stopped off at Doddington Hall to eat our 3pm dinner. Apparently, one of the Pride & Prejudice adaptations was filmed here, and car parking was free.
When we got home, the poet drained the tank, emptied some gear into the garage that we wouldn’t need to take with us on our roadtrip, and he brought all the clothes and coats in so we could take stock and only take what we need. But when he went to rinse out the water tank, he noticed a leak. A very bad leak. And he had to take the bathroom apart in order to find it.
Once he got the panels off, he had to disconnect and reconnect the pipework, and the leak stopped! So it must have been a jubilee clip that had blown off, probably in the frost, that had caused it. Better for it to happen at home than to happen on the road, but even then he said so long as he has a toolkit that wouldn’t be a problem either. It was one extra job he wasn’t expecting to do.
I finished making the trifle I’d started the night before while he did all of that, and we had fish for tea. It had been a good and productive weekend.
In comparison to the weekend, Monday was quite staid. I was up on time and I did my usual daily chores. But then I had to catch up on the work I hadn’t done the week before. More on that (and today!) tomorrow.
