Mr Tonka Toy has been back earthmoving again. We now have a bigger and better pipe for the lake, in case of any further outbreaks of subarctic monsoon, and some land drains under what is supposed to be a lakeside path but which is very soggy indeed in spots. Dr Biswell has returned; to our uncouth amazement, he tipped up before nine last night (with reference to past form, we had a little private sweepstake on before/after midnight, before/after 2 AM). But as of the last few weeks, of course, Dr B is a head of department and organizes things; this has evidently been character-building (or at least, character-altering). I am hugely enjoying not absolutely having to do anything just this minute, the first day of which that could reasonably be said since last September, a pleasure somewhat increased by the faint roar of Mr T.T. being very busy indeed down by the burn. I am therefore working on Burra again — I picked up a wonderful story about him the other day. In his later years he was talked into doing some engravings, and for some reason got less than he was expecting from the dealer who had set this up. Somewhat grumpily, he agreed to sign the prints, but when the dealer got them back, he found that those for which Burra considered himself to have been duly paid were signed E.J. Burra as they should have been, those which he had in his own view, not been paid were signed E Fuck Burra, which in 1971, of course, that made them unsaleable. I do hope the man hung on to them.
We still have no boiler. Miss Kit is firmly parked under my desklamp (halogen; WARM) disputing the territory with a book about the Cote d’Azur. Dr Biswell is making a fire. Perhaps a little later we will sit round it and read to one another from the improving works of Jack London.

One Response to “Idleness”

  1. fjs Says:

    just encountered a reference to burra, and was charmed to discover that he called Marie Rambert (a formidable and scary woman); Maisie Ramparts, this has been a public service announcement.

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