Another Tuesday, another Committee Meeting and it occurs to me that, at least on some level, my life is not my own.
Although the Committee Meetings for the Club only take place once a month, like other things which take place once a month, they have become a thing of dread and ache.
As always, I have a list of things we haven’t accomplished and areas which could do with some polish, I have my Movie Night takings total, and by the time we get to Any Other Business, I’m a good way through my second pint.
The Branch Meetings take place every other month and, much as I contribute very little to these, they feel regular enough. Since the last meeting, the construction work has begun on the new toilets.
The builders have hit something of a snag, a hazard of working in any building from the baby boom, and have had to adjust both costings and duration of the works. It transpires that when the Clubhouse was built, it was through the efforts of Legion members, all of whom were voluntary, not all of whom had experience within construction.
What our entirely qualified builders have discovered is that there is no damp course. So they’ve had to take up the floor. They will be in situ until early next month.
The positive to be taken from this is as follows: I have some blown render outside my house. It’s been blown for some time, with a decent crack running down near a window and a bulge like a muffin top around a foot up from the ground. With the builders staying at the Legion for the next few weeks, perhaps I’m right in thinking they can find an afternoon for me and my bulge.
I have a brother who works as a gardener. This weather isn’t great for the outdoorsy types, and whatever equipment he might want to use on the blasted bindweed which has lifted my render, might not cope especially well at the damp end of the year.
I will find a space and organise myself. I will rip away the bindweed. Fingers crossed to the point of snapping, the builders will find a time for me, and a lovely New Zealander with a ripper of a beard will be able to clear the gutters before they get here. The gutters haven’t had more than a sideways glance in the last six years, so I have work for the bearded man and his pressure washer.
And while I’m thinking about all of this, and wondering how I will fit in time for blog posts and novel writing while my house is cleaned and trimmed, the room turns to look at me.
We have arrived at Any Other Business.
My list is short this month. I have it learnt by heart. I rattle off whatever it was I needed to talk about and soon it will be home time. I’m not sure how I got through another two pints on my way to the exit, but there it is. It may only be Tuesday but it’s been a long week.