Got home from prison via Tesco's to be greeted by Younger Son. 'Do you know how to change a fuse?'
'Um, yes, but ...'
The fusebox is high up in the shed; it's dark and cold; and I'm not entirely sure I know how to.
So we've got a dark upstairs for tonight. That's okay. We can cope.
Tomorrow is another day. (Said with Deep South drawl.)
* * * * * * * * * *
For the last weeks I've been working with prisoners to produce some pieces to be read at the carol service next week. Today we had our final rehearsal. Because the chapel is being renovated, the service will be happening in the visiting area, so the chaplain took us over there for a dry run.
I started out with 3 volunteers; I've ended up with 2 completely different men. Watching them standing up and reading tonight I got quite emotional, and I don't do emotion. Next week on Monday and Tuesday they'll be doing it for real in front of 120 people each evening. That'll be a mix of invited guests, from volunteers to 'important ' people like the Lord Lieutenant, and prisoners, some of whom will be hoping for a laugh if their mates make a mess of it. 'My boys' will need extra courage next week.
Although I'm not sure why I'm worrying about them: one at least is in for violent crime and they're both able to take care of themselves! But they're such lovely boys.