Blogging from Bridport - Day 10

Day 10

The cast:

Me

'The Undertaker' (husband)

'Nearly 90' (mother)

'On the ground in france' (son)

'Office darling' (daughter)

My confidante in all things naughty but nice phoned me whilst we were at ‘The Undertakers’ Mothers this morning delivering ‘essentials’. I took the opportunity to sit in her greenhouse although ‘The Undertaker’ says it’s an Orangerie because there’s a lemon tree in there amongst the very many brightly coloured geraniums in old pots. ‘Don’t let’s split hairs’ I say because there had been a lively discussion on whether he should strim the grass over our morning tea. The heat in there was intense, indeed it was making me rather drowsy, the scent from geraniums can be very heady. I caught the words ‘keep it airy fairy’ and rather reluctantly agreed. ‘People don’t want to read anything to upset or make them any more anxious than they already are’ he advised.

We go around the garden picking up kindling for the fire. Because time is no longer an issue we can loiter and study spring emerging. There is an impressive array of daffodils and just starting to peek through the longer grass are the first of the bluebells. Huge clumps of wild primroses add splodges of colour. We stand on the driveway whilst they chatter to us from the front door. There’s a biting wind however, the weather has changed drastically which with luck will keep more people inside.

On our way back through the village the villagers were out waving to each other and exchanging greetings to their neighbours. Somebody was waving a union jack in the air. Although we are known in the village we were still given quizzical looks as we drove through. 

Our market town was eerily quiet too. On a Saturday morning it is usually thronging with people. The weekly market is a popular affair drawing the crowds as they browse amongst the eclectic selection of stalls. Now all you could see was a solitary person scurrying along with a shopping bag eager to get home.

In our tiny front room, from where we can observe all manner of activities as people go by, or rather they did, we have adopted the daily ritual of lighting a fire to relax in front of. Our neighbour’s cars, ours included, have not moved for days now. Nobody is strolling by chattering, no-one is posting a letter in the nearby pillar-box or laughing on the street. Even the volume of traffic has dropped considerably since yesterday. Its unnervingly creepy, the calm before the storm.

I decide I must wear ‘happy clothes’, those that hold dear memories and so this morning I dug out my ‘IOS’ faded pink fisherman’s smock. IOS standing for Isles of Scilly. These are the islands on which I was lucky enough to do a five-week sabbatical on, cutting myself off from my crazy world.

‘Office darling’ phones up and announces she has volunteered to help within the NHS in whatever way she can. The response has been overwhelming and proves that there are many decent public spirited people out there from all backgrounds.

There’s a new daily dose of entertainment in my lockdown life. Quite possibly the naughtiest, wittiest, sharpest, most erudite, entertaining, outrageous, generous, devilishly good-looking man I know in New Delhi, India. (I do only know one but such minor discrepancies no longer count). Fondly known as ‘Capt’n Jinxy’ his Blogspot and impossibly humorous take on life is now my daily dose of light relief. He is currently in lockdown too in the second biggest city in the world that is about to become the epicentre of the corona virus, the first week of the official lockdown of 1.4 billion people. We are lifelong ‘kissing cousins’ both of us having twin brothers and sharing childhood holidays together. Memories of running wild and free on a never-ending expanse of Cornish beach with the roar of the sea pounding in our ears.

Memories flooding back thick and fast, stop to reflect and they do.

How are we going to remember this period in our lives do you think?

‘The undertaker’ has just completely ruined my reverie by pushing in front of my face, a video on how to cut hair with a pair of clippers. ‘Pay attention’ he commands.

Hysterical without realising it.

My daily video link up with 'On the ground in France' and 'Office darling' is delayed due to them both claiming to be adhering to daily workouts. 'Whats yours'? they ask. 'Keeping going' I reply.