One Hundred Percent

At The Welcome Cafe by the river on Exeter Quay this morning......

 Pots of Cyclamen and Narcissi in the sheltered garden courtyard where we ate our lunch,

our faces turned to the hot hot sun.

This golden eyed, slate grey pussy cat  followed us through the Celandines on our walk by the river.

The plumber arrives at 8am this morning. He has three jobs to do. When he leaves at 11am he declares he's been one hundred percent successful. Tricky taps fixed, leaking radiator sorted. And he says my flapjacks are as good as the high energy bars he eats on his cycle rides.

My husband and I do banking errands in town. I write down the model number of my printer to buy a replacement cartridge. And leave it at home. So not one hundred percent successful on that front.

My husband loves his plate of French Toast at the Welcome Cafe. It comes with blueberries and raspberries sprinkled on top of the bacon.

Where's the beetroot? he says, meaning banana.

I won't let him pour the whole jug of maple syrup over it all. It looks like about half a litre.

Who says I can't have it all?

I do, I say.

After our stroll by the river in glorious spring sunshine - just like spring should be - I ask him to drive me to TKMAX to return a changed-my-mind purchase. At a big junction he does an illegal turning. I'm horrified. I'm cross. I'm scared. I harangue him. I slam the car door and take my mistake back to the shop. He says sorry and crumples. I hate myself. My anger makes me feel dirty.

At home we find two more brown envelopes on the welcome mat. More stuff from the DWP and the DVLA. I hug my husband and he leaves for his ceramics class. I make two phone calls - the DWP letter is a mistake. The DVLA letter is standard - nothing to do till next year. At least I think that's what the nice Welshman says  - the line's so crackly I can hardly fathom a word.

Now I'm waiting for my husband to wake up so we can have supper. Fat wedges of Crown Prince squash are spitting and melting in the oven. I'm wondering what would make it a one hundred percent supper. Probably a litre of forgiveness on the side.