BLOGGING FROM BRIDPORT - DAY 3

Day 3.

The cast;
Me
The Undertaker (husband)
Nearly 90 (mother)
On the ground in France (son)
Office darling (daughter)

Whoopie doo. It's my birthday. I've never felt more sombre, sober or sanctimonious in my life.

'The Undertaker' came off call last night. It's been a long week, a worrying week, a week full of uncertainties. We're all in the same boat, its just that some are steering through more turbulent waters than us right now but if all the boffins are correct then that's where we're heading.

It was a mistake to mix that stiff G&T  at 5. A cut glass tumbler originating from my 98 year old Aunt, a slice of lime and plenty of ice clinking satisfyingly round. Boris appears with his advisers and we take a great gulp as we hope and pray he's going to ramp up the measures. He does and we both take a greater gulp whilst exhaling with relief. You can see where this is heading already...

Far too soon everything is funny, verging on hilarious. I start to recount my day to 'The Undertaker' as in my opinion its far more uplifting than his ever is, or rather it used to be. I dragged myself out to do a necessary shop for 'Nearly 90'. It really was an insy winsy list, hardly cause for undue concern. I could smell the panic as soon as I entered the store, (Waitrose actually) as I gazed in disbelief at the rows and rows of empty shelves. The staff were looking shell shocked as they recounted the tale of a coach load of old biddies stripping the shelves like vultures before scuttling back on board. Funny how some of these old ones can suddenly become sprightly isnt it? So these old crones had stripped the shelves and deprived '90 something', A LOCAL PENSIONER of a few basic items. I was spitting. And as for the woman in the shapeless blue anorak coughing and spluttering all over what was left of the grape selection. 'Thank. You. Very. Much' I hissed. And then her daughter appeared round the corner and judging by the look on her face she wasn't into spreading any peace, love or joy to mankind. 'Can't risk diarrhoea' I said as pleasantly as possible turning my back hastily on the grapes.

We had a most pleasant and convivial supper until we made another mistake of going onto a social network site and discovering that there were still people displaying swathes of ignorance. 'May as well make the most of our last night of freedom' type of individual, before they were called off to some godawful country whose war they knew nothing of. Oh Lordy no, before they have to sit on their sofas in their trackie bottoms gorging their way through the stockpile of food whose sell by date is rapidly approaching.

The hyacinth in the kitchen window (Morrisons actually) came up the same colour as the label stated which in a way was mildly disappointing. Last time I purchased a white one and it flowered the most incredible deep purple. It gave me the most enormous amount of pleasure and I was rather hoping for the same degree of excitement anticipating what nature might throw at me next. It goes without saying that complaining at supermarkets is an absolute 'no no' all of a sudden. I can only imagine what problems a hyacinth up your nose would cause and the wicked waste of resources on our wonderful NHS's time.

But lets fast forward to this morning. I had to get up and make the tea, (Outrageous) but I opened up some lovely prezzies, (see pic) once I'd nudged 'The Undertaker' to wake up. We exchanged pleasantries and I forgave him for playing his truly awful Military music loudly and he in turn forgave me for shouting it was bloody awful as we did battle with the on/off button. Couples must try and work through these misgivings which are surely going to mount as we are all confined further.

I was particularly touched being given a copy of David Sedaris's Calypso which is 'funnier and more heartbreaking than pretty much anything out there' says 'The Guardian' (I'll be the judge of that) by 'The Undertakers' Mothers 90 year old squeeze. (There is no need to reread that)

But, to conclude for today I cannot remember the last time I took hold of a brand new book unless of course one counts ones own publication...

Toodle pip, keep safe and 'bottoms up' to you all.