For anyone thinking this is the prequel to a story about going on holiday somewhere “forin”, they’re wrong! Sadly there are no circumstances where I will be leaving these shores anytime in the foreseeable.

Nope. This is a slightly strange story about why you need a passport to get a job. Things have obviously changed since I got my last proper job, which was, let’s face it, a lifetime ago if you consider a lifetime as the whole life of most of my student friends. I last applied and was interviewed for a proper job in 1993. I was there for fifteen years and since then I’ve only had casual jobs.

With that in mind, I was somewhat shocked to get a call from a recruitment consultant telling me I have got an interview fixed up for a really fabulous job and asking me to send two photos of my passport, one (see above) of the front cover and the other of the nitty-gritty page that has my photo and details on. I suppose this is to try to stop anyone who is not legally entitled to work here from getting work? Still, if it’s the passport to a job and more importantly income, then it’s all good.

I’ve just decided this photo will have to do for today because I am knackered having spent the entire day working like a dog again. I have not achieved the “few days’ rest” that I was hoping for. Still, at least the work I’ve been doing is directly benefitting us – I’m cleaning and gardening at home. Now four of the five lawns are cut and the fifth has been half-slashed with the slasher to facilitate getting the lawnmower to deal with the grass. The ground floor of the house is looking about 50% clean and the guest room is set up and ready for this weekend’s guests. With any luck I will have the ground floor 100% clean by this time tomorrow…with a bit of luck and a following wind.