I’ve been trying to persuade Eve it’s not the second week of her Easter Holiday but actually Work Experience Week. Despite being desperate she should get a proper life/planet saving job when she grows up, I have been conducting an apprenticeship into the dark arts of theatrical impresario-ism.

Today we helped Craig unload a van. We ate a bacon sandwich and we/I were interviewed by Marketing Birmingham for some kind of promotional video (the kind that says “Birmingham is Great”). Then the list of urgent things to do ceased to be even that child-friendly so we started visiting Art Galleries – which in my position can, at a push, be classified as ‘almost work’.

We looked at Bridget Riley stuff in the Water Hall – eye-boggling and lovely. Then we looked round the open exhibition at the Gas Hall, which I loved for is energy, variety and insight into how many people there are around getting on with doing their own deeply committed thing.

Eve wasn’t so into this show (it was more extensive) but we found some comfy chairs and a big stash of Lego at the back, so started building towers and walls; killing time in the warm for free. Over on the comfy chairs a guy with his life in a laundry bag was pursuing a similar mission but was soon spotted by security: “Oi this isn’t a doss house, OUT!” Poor bloke, I thought, he’s not harming anyone, we’re doing the same thing, he should have joined us playing Lego. In retrospect I wish I called out. “Leave him alone, he’s with us”.

Whilst on the subject of Social Justice: the Labour Party manifesto was launched in Birmingham today and whilst cycling Eve and I happened upon the marshaling point for the Tory’s propaganda counter strike, seven or eight poster lorries lined up one behind the other. I had no petrol, rags and matches to destroy them on the runway before take-off.

Two failures to act in a single day, very poor.