August 8th, 2010


Yesterday was the day of the Oldham carnival. We were out shopping in the neighbourhood with Odi and we heard a noise and there were floats and groups of marching children going past the end of our street. We hurried across. Odi said it gave her goosebumps. Fabi buried his head in Ailz's shoulder and refused to watch.

Mano A Mano

Peter got the job. It's not a job I'd wish on anybody. I don't know what the title is, but what he'll be doing is knocking doors and eliciting donations to British charities. It pays commission. I had hoped for something better.

Mind you, Ailz had a lodger in the 80s who did something similar- and he brought home £100 a week- so it can be made to pay if you have the knack for it. Our former neighbour (rest in peace, Lee) was a doorstep salesman- and loved it. He was a tenacious bugger. He tried to sell me some tee shirts once- luvverly quality. I said "No" and "No again and then "No". I'd find it soul-destroying having those conversations doorstep after doorstep, but Lee relished going mano a mano. My fear is Peter is just too nice.