Sat here after a good breakfast waiting for the tea to brew and contemplating whether to have a shave. It’s a lockdown working from home problem. Doesn’t matter whether you have a shave or not, unless you are particularly bothered about looking good on video conference calls. As I am cultivating my hippy look again aka lockdown one I do occasionally need to maintain a certain definition between chin and cheek, if you get my drift.
Outside the rain is pelting down and Anne has therefore taken her car to go hunter gathering. It’s wet enough in those hedgerows and on the forest floor without having to ride home on her bicycle. Early in the morning is a good time to go out looking for food as the crowds have not yet appeared and the best produce lies yet ungathered. Ideal in these covid ridden times. No having to maneuver around ignorant people who ignore the clearly marked one way paths around the forest.
I have half an hour or so before our regular Saturday morning festival meeting and so there is no rush. I’ve even tidied up the kitchen after breakfast.
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Blustery walk to the shed this morning as you can imagine. Felt as if I was at the coast, perhaps preparing to go to sea instead of carrying a tray with a pot of tea and a satsuma to the bottom of the garden. I do miss the coast. Most of my adult life has been firmly inland in Lincoln but my childhood was spent on a coast somewhere, be it Wales or the Isle of Man. Rugged, interesting coastline with fishing boats and dirty British coasters and quinquiremes of Nineveh or boats and places to that effect. Ahoy there landlubber. I’m not sure whether I’ve ever seen a quinquireme and am not aware of having been to Nineveh although places do change names so I might have.
It is a Saturday. Not sure how much difference that makes really. John and I are planning to watch the Imps play Doncaster this pm. That is a traditional Saturday afternoon pastime. When I were a lad my dad and I would settle in front of Grandstand on the telly to watch an afternoon of sport. Wasn’t just footy. If I remember right it was whatever was doing down that weekend. Different times. Dad and I used to go out and play golf but don’t remember that being on Saturdays.
Just chatting with dad now, ensconced on the GrandPad in his bijou room in Ty Llandaff in Cardiff. Luxury care facility or words to that effect. Just around the corner from Sue’s although that’s not much use to man nor daughter during lockdown. Might as well be an 8 hour flight apart instead of an 8 minute walk. He is very close to the Romily and Robin Hood pubs. Handy in less pestilent times.
I’ll be nipping out to get some fresh air myself in a bit. I’ve finished the espalier work. And fixed the bathroom scales.
Walked past Tesco with half a mind to nip in to buy some shaving gel. Mahoosive queue outside at around 1.30pm. Bloody fierce cold out there as well so the idea was abandoned. What on earth makes people decide to go to Tesco on a Saturday afternoon (apart from to buy shaving gel obvs). It will be heaving with people all desperate to win a Darwin Award and therefore not somewhere I would want to be. I remain gel-less but Charles Darwin managed without it so I’m sure I’ll survive.