Blogging from Bridport - Day 40

Day 40.

The cast:
Me
'The undertaker' (husband)

Day 40. FORTY. Just let that digest a moment.

It's Monday. I know that because 'The undertaker' is going to work, so there's some structure to the day. Structure is good, some sort of framework to work to, a reason for order and purpose.

Its easy to forget that for some people the lock down guidelines are more difficult. Anxiety, depression, lack of routine, and people who simply cannot, do not think any of this applies to them. What gives these people the idea that they are immune is unfathomable.

'The undertaker' has crafted an extremely clever frame for our sweet peas. He is itching to dig out what he perceives to be weeds in the raised beds but I assure him that they are pretty wild flowers and whilst there is nothing else to replace them they may as well stay there. For the time being at least they are safe from his cull. Everything else is racing ahead with this warm weather. The red hot pokers are prolific thanks to my daily snail patrol whilst the vine against the wall is in full leaf. The lawn is patchy and brown due to the lack of rain which is on the way, apparently. This is going to come as a shock, not only to the plants but to us too.

Because his days are so short now, resulting from the present change in funeral protocol we have time for a short stroll today. Within five minutes of stepping out we come across four lads fishing in the River Brit, quite why we didn't understand, the grey mullet, albeit in abundance, are a swine to catch  and taste of mud.

Some mean spirited person has removed the tiny twigs that made the opening of gates so much easier without having to actually touch the latches. 'The undertaker' always carries his walking stick anyway and has devised an ingenious way of opening them but for everyone else it would mean endless touching of said latch. A small minority of dog owners have left calling cards hanging from the gates for everyone to enjoy. Nothing like a rancid full bag of dog poo on a warm evening. Again its always the small minority isn't it? Yawn.

But there are lovely gestures still being shown. My neighbour gives me a beautiful scented candle of lime, basil and mandarin. Whilst I'm sitting slaving over a hot computer the calming smell wafts through the air filling me with serene thoughts and bestowing goodwill to all mankind. The dog owners, the lads fishing, the paddle boarders off West Bay, the people lying horizontal on the beach in their swimmies without a care in the world. 'What harm are we doing'? they say, genuinely puzzled. Indeed they probably aren't in the great scheme of things but as 'The undertaker' eloquently summed it up they are setting a bad example and cocking a snook at everyone else endeavouring to behave.

And by now you may be thinking to yourselves, 'who does she think she is preaching from her ivory tower, casting judgement on the weaker elements of society, surely she must have misbehaved just a insy winsy bit over the last forty days?

Well yes I have, I'm not ashamed to admit it. However, in my case,  following the government guidelines I have 'STAYED AT HOME'  and misbehaved there, because as far as I'm aware we're still allowed to do that!

Amen.

Forty days and forty nights and all that...