Blogging from Bridport - Day 24
The cast:
Me
'The undertaker' (husband)
'Office darling' (daughter)
'MIL' (mother in law)
Its with some dismay that I go into the bathroom this morning and find that the spider along with its web has completely vanished. Upped sticks and left, just like that. 'Have you seen the spider' I shout to 'The undertaker' 'Where you last left it' he shouts back. What does this exchange tell you?
We went the entire night without the phone ringing so I woke up in a most agreeable mood. As it was a Saturday and Easter a full English breakfast was on the cards. I'd no sooner extracted a few fine slices of thinly cut smoked back bacon when 'The undertakers' phone went. He gulped his coffee down and was off.
I mooched around the garden awhile putting off any nasty jobs that may be lurking inside the house. I dealt with the snails on my red hot pokers and watched ants scurrying along the branches of the fig tree. There was greenfly on the roses but there too the ants were busying themselves. The apple blossom was appearing, the wild strawberry plants were flowering and I spotted the first flower on my clematis. I put aside any thoughts of a cooked breakfast and had my customary free range boiled egg and two ryvitas.
Later on my thoughts were just turning to lunch when 'The undertaker' phones saying he's off to another pick up but will swing by the house. I put together a lunch box for him and his on call partner. The partner sends me a picture of 'The undertaker' in full PPE and says I make a most agreeable sandwich.
'Office darling' walks by and places two chocolate Lindt bunnies on the doorstep. We chat for awhile and although at a distance and all too brief it is wonderful to see her. The highlight of the day in fact. People I have never seen in my life walk by including an overweight man stripped bare to the waist. As I've said before what possesses rational people to behave in such an irrational way as soon as the sun comes out. Wobbly white flesh does not equate to street cred.
'The undertaker' finally arrives back home and goes into the shed which is now serving as a temporary changing room, his clothes then go directly into the washing machine. He nods in approval at the line of white shirts. 'Did you put them on an easy iron wash cycle'? he enquires. 'Yes' I say, 'easy for you as you didn't have to do it'. He appears not to have heard and wonders why I am laughing to myself.
He goes up to 'MIL' to drop off their essential shopping and returns with a fine bottle of Pinot Gris from Alsace along with a Fortnum and Mason bag containing a tin of luxury Scottish shortbread. Easter treats seem to be arriving nicely and I am well aware that I am completely spoilt.
'The undertaker' settles down with the Saturday paper, the sitting room windows are wide open and the sound of birdsong fills the air. The church bells have chimed on the hour signalling it is six o'clock.
'Would you like a glass of something chilled'? enquires 'The undertaker' For one glorious split second the world seems normal, a family group go by in summer clothes laughing, a woman pulls up in her car outside to post a letter in the nearby post box. Close your eyes in the warmth and safety of your own home and you could be transported back to last summer.
Instead close your eyes and pray that you will be in the warmth and safety of your home next summer.
Stay home. Stay safe. There is no choice.
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