A few gentle days of gardening, admin, laundry, cooking and minimal housework after our return from France.  Glad to report that we've had the first of the flat yellow beans from the seeds Annie sent us, augmented by some nice fresh runner beans from the farm where we get our eggs.  Home-made burgers tonight from  the excellent minced beef we got in France, beans from down the road, carrots and spuds from Fortnum's...

Back in March I reported that the conservatory suppliers had sent their salesman to catalogue the various niggles, on some of which we have been seeking after-sales service since 2009, a year after the job was completed.  Various non-returned phone calls later, I sent by registered letter (or the modern-day equivalent) a schedule of phone calls, letters, faxes etc and the response (usually none) to each, with a veiled threat of litigation or referral to Trading Standards.  On the date of the first appointment (for 15:00), we waited.  And waited.  And at 18:10 fired off a snotty email.  Response was that we should expect the fitter to call around 15:00 today.  Well, he turned up around 16:20, measured the blown window unit (again), slapped some clear mastic into the outside wall and pushed off, unable to give any indication when he'll be back to do the work.  Is it any wonder I drink?

Meanwhile, in another place, the joiner reports that he has made the necessary mods to the bathroom skylight window.  Of Pierre the builder (who is skilled and professional, but who needs a fierce secretary) no reported signs of activity. 

A spot of culture yesterday, however.  We took a trip up to the smoke to the Royal Academy summer show, and wondered why we'd bothered.  We were not wild about the piece we'd gone specially to see, and found little that enthused us, save for some neo-Impressionist pieces by a couple of RAs and, of course the architecture room, which, for me, is always the best part of the show.  From there we went on to Baron's Court to the latest play what Kate wrote, and enjoyed it very much.  We really liked her approach to filling in the historical background: a sporadic dialogue between Jonathan Swift and a ghostly (because dead) Electress Sophia of Hanover*.

The pub also supplied us with a decent early supper.  What it did not provide was a comfortable theatre.  It's in the cellar of the pub, which was dreadfully hot and airless.  It was a good job the play's as good as it is, since otherwise I mightn't have stayed even until the interval.

Apart from skirmishes with builders, we have today been sorting out timepieces.  The strap on Martyn's Mondaine Swiss railway watch packed up soon after he got it, so we took ourselves along to the Mall.  There's a nice chap there who runs a watches stall ('How's business?'  'Oh, ticking along...').  He brought out a bag of watch straps for Martyn to choose from, and fitted the chosen article, together with the buckle from the original strap.  A week or so ago, the bracelet on my 1999-vintage Swatch started disintegrating, so on Saturday, having had a couple of generous Amazon vouchers for my birthday, I took a look at what they had to offer.  I found one I liked the look of, secured Management approval, and ordered it.  Less than 48 hours later - free delivery and altogether - it arrived, and I like it.  Titanium case, nice clear hands on a dark blue face.  What's even better is that the manufacturer's web site prices it at about 40% more than I paid - and that was not the earth.: about the equivalent of a few bottles of Hendricks, for example.

* I can never think of said Electress without recalling a howler from the school where my Ma taught for a couple of terms before doing her PGCE: 'the electric Sophie of Hangover'.   But I'm ashamed of how little I recall from a delightful term of modern Scottish history when I was desperately trying to cobble together a kit-of-parts Ordinary.