I seem to be keeping the gossips busy

Today's plan was to get all of my chores out of the way as early as possible as we are out this evening for Dinner with 30%'s brother and his GF.

First on the list was to gather a few tools and trim the door at the foot of the stairs so that it clears the newly fitted carpet. That went reasonably smoothly and only needed offering up and tweaking a couple of times before I was happy to screw it to the frame permanently.

Next on the list was to load the recently acquired bookcases in to the Land Rover and trailer and deliver them over to Dave the Stripper in Worcester.  They should take a couple of weeks at most to be refinished so they will be back cluttering the garage before I know it.

By the time we got home it was most definitely time for lunch and then it was out around the Three Miler with T&M before, I am afraid to say, a solid hour's kip on the sofa occurred.

The title of today's post comes from a chance encounter with the chap who owns the small office building next door to The Pile. I don't know him particularly well but we always exchange a greeting and a few polite conversational nonentities. To be honest I tend to be a little wary of him as he has a tendency to ask quite intrusive questions ...

... today was one of those days.  His opening gambit today was to let me know that a conveniently forgotten acquaintance of his had let him know that I had now retired from work on health grounds and he continued by asking about my well being. I corrected this complete nonsense with minimal detail but assured him that I was fine, in gainful employment and suggested that this assumption had probably arisen as a result of the fact that I work from home and therefore could be seen in the Village when most are at their places of work.

As I wandered away I pondered the mentality of the "unknown" individual that had come up with and then decided to disseminate this complete piece of crap. I am guessing that my regular, day time walks with T&M have led them to construct a complete work of fiction to explain why I am not tied to some desk or stuck in a rep-mobile between the hours of 9 and 5. I have to admit that I can sort of understand why people might like to construct a scenario which explains my unusual working patterns but I cannot fathom why they would then present this fabrication as a fact in a conversation.

As mentioned earlier, the evening saw a trip in to Stratford for Dinner with S&E. We had a leisurely dinner at a Pasta Chain. The food was perfectly acceptable and the company was great. It was one of those evening when there was a strong temptation to return home and carry on but sense prevailed as S needed to be down in London VERY EARLY on Monday morning to carry out some decommissioning work at the Olympic venues. We therefore settled the bill the right side of midnight and went our separate ways.