My first errand of the day was picking up an undeliverable package from the sorting office in White City.
The sorting office is in a place called Silver Road and is open from 7:30am.
I walked down to the Bush and turned right down Wood Lane.
There is a huge building project going on there. A gigantic piece of land mainly consisting of old London Underground land was bought up by developers and is being turned into a destination site.
A mutant cross between the Bullring and the Mailbox and Merry Hill, this huge site takes up one side of Wood Lane and stretches up as far as the A40. It's not going to be just a shopping centre, it's going to be a high class shopping experience with a hotel, spa, cinema, fitness centre and all sorts of other goodies.
I just wanted to know what couldn't fit through Dad's letterbox.
The BBC Television Centre is also down Wood Lane. I had to walk down the BBC side of the road because of the building works. Then down Arial Way. Arial being the name of the BBC's in-house news letter. Past Relay Road (geddit?) down Silver Road and down to the very end to the Sorting Office.
The package was clearly a large A4 lever arch file, wrapped in brown paper and neatly addressed to Mr B. Ginger.
I have recently started using a new satchel type bag and the file was just slightly too big for the velcro to stick the flap down. So I went back the way I came with the flap down but unfastened, and ended up pushing against a tide of builders who were on their way to start work on the massive site which took up one side of Arial Way.
This being London, they had commuted there by tube to White City.
I went to the Bush and bought papers and milk and took the parcel home to Dad.
He wasn't happy when he opened it.
His latest building project is being supervised by professionals. A proper architect is involved. The file, complete with 10 separated sub sections was a Health & Safety review of the site and the proposed works with recommendations and reminders of current law.
He'll have to read it.
The funeral went smoothly enough. Dead Aunt chose the hymns and readings before she died and there was a good turn out.
Kid Brother drove us there and on to the cemetery out past Chiswick.
On the way there, my mobile rang. It was the Dudley branch of Adecco. My details, although entered in Wolverhampton, are searchable by everyone and they were ringing up because my details matched with a job that had come up.
Could I start in Dudley today?
Was I sure?
Yes, I was on my way to a burial after the death of an aunt.
Oh. Well, if I was sure?
Um. Yes. Thank you for ringing.
The burial went smoothly enough and the vast majority of us went back to a nearby pub for a reception.
Not us though.
Dad didn't want to go and his sister wanted to get back home as well. Kid Brother would have had to have dropped Auntie in Greenford, drop Dad off at the house in Shepherd's Bush and then gone back for the reception. Neither of us could drink so it was going to be just a quick and polite hour standing in a corner before going back home.
So KB dropped me and Dad off at the house before delivering Dad's surviving sister back to Greenford before going on to his own home in Uxbridge.
On the way back, Sarah called. The interview is definitely "on" for 11am Monday 10th. When was I going to read the information. I was in the back of a car. I didn't know.
How about I popped in on Monday morning?
That was far too late to prepare. I needed to take a few hours at least to prepare.
To shut her up, I told her to e-mail me the details and I could read them over the weekend.
Okay, she said, I can do that.
We thanked each other and rang off.
After KB dropped us off, I went into errand mode.
I changed, went to the JobCentrePlus and got the information needed for Dad's pension claim.
I did a bit of shopping for Dad - air fresheners, veg and a few other bits and pieces, logged on to the interweb at a local internet cafe - Sarah wasn't exactly straining herself getting the interview information e-mailed to me and I found a beautiful pair of shiny Next jeans in a local charity shop for £3.
They could pass for a smart pair of trousers, they have a silver thread shot through the denim. They just need about 8 inches cut off the bottom.
I transferred £405 from the Nationwide where I'd deposited Dad's cheque to the HSBC where the mortgage and personal loan get paid from and went home again.
I wrote a letter to the NI bunch asking for Mum's NI number, as her NI payments could increase Dad's pension by a few pennies a year and went off to post it as well as Dad's request for a large print pension form as he didn't want to spend a long time on an 0845 'phone number only for the completed form to be sent to him anyway for him to correct and sign.
We sat chatting and watching telly and finally went to bed very late.