The House Husband

Another glorious day and I’m certain that the organisers of the Farnham Carnival are all delighted. I saw them popping their witches hats into empty car spaces as cars drove off while I went about my shopping morning. Old chaps, generally with beards, wearing hi-viz vests would spring out from behind innocuous looking vehicles, pouncing like clunky panthers, rejoicing as they claimed another parking spot in Castle Street as if they were engaged in a Chess Masters Final in Moscow. It was all very jolly.

Having an awful lot of fun were the chaps weaving the thick gangle of cables up and over door frames, around posts and brackets, splitting off speaker leads, power leads and other leads, as they neared tables. It is this time of the year that these chaps come out and enjoy themselves, playing at being Festival Organisers, Rock ‘n’ Roll Roadies, Truly Cool Guys. It’s a fun departure from their usual jobs as bankers and brokers and bakers and butchers and Totally Uncool Dads.

My favourite cart

It’s why the funfair is up at the park, of course. The carnival. We are not going though. We have much older fish to fry. We are going to where Mirinda has her book club meetings!

OK, that doesn’t sound all that interesting but really, it is. She discusses the books her group read at the home of Edward Knight who, adopted into the Knight family, was actually Edward Austen. His sister was a rather good writer and it was because of him that the rest of his family settled in Chawton and why Cassandra, Jane’s sister, opened a tea shop across the road.

The house isn’t generally open – although Mirinda goes there once a month – so I was very keen to have a look. As well as the house (and it’s superb library) we were promised Regency Dancing, refreshments, insects, Shire horses and the walled rose garden.

I should mention Summer, the new Shire pony born in the spring. Very cute and still a bit wobbly on its massive feet. Claire, you’d have loved it!

Mother and baby

We had a lovely, relaxed afternoon at Chawton House Library, though we didn’t get to see many insects, and drove home the long way, through the lovely countryside around Alton and Odiham.

The weather is hot. Worse is, apparently, due tomorrow.

Apparently it’s National Insect Week.

Dull and grey today. That was all. And then a little bit of rain this evening. Not that we noticed. We were watching Wallander with Kenneth Branagh.

Now, is it just me, or is Wallander very hard going? It’s all filmed and directed beautifully and the acting is fantastic. The stories are even pretty good but it’s as emotionally draining as a super suction pump under a bath. I just feel like grabbing Kurt and shaking him, telling him to get a grip! Though it wouldn’t do any good. He’d look off into the blue distance, look down and then walk away without a word, while his mobile phone annoyingly bleeped. I’d also like to know if it’s as bad in the original Swedish. I thought the Swedes were a happy bunch.

Today Mirinda had her monthly book club in Chawton. This month it was an autobiography by a slave – Mary Prince – published in 1831 and which had a lot to do with the ending of slavery. If you would like to read it, Project Gutenberg has an online copy here (if you don’t mind reading on the PC).

However, before book group, it was time to visit the hairdresser. This is always scary. Mirinda and hairdressers are not always easy chums.

She has been going to Toni and Guy for ages, even though she can’t stand going there but because she’s used to the girl and the girl is clearly having successful therapy. Well, the girl has been on holiday for a suspiciously long time and Mirinda finally got the hint and booked at my hairdressers. I’m hoping she didn’t mention me.

Anyway, she reported back that all was fine. And her hair looks great. I’ve taken a photo but it’s not very good. You can’t see the red streaks for a start. But it was quite dark. It also includes her playing the guitar, which I’ve been fortunate enough to hear tonight.

And so now, our weekend together is over. Tomorrow morning she’s back off into London and I’ll be back at the essay writing. Although Nicktor is supposed to come around tomorrow night. We’ll go and see the mighty Shots play. I mean, WIN!