Blogging from Bridport - Day 43
The cast:
Me
'The undertaker' (husband)
We awake to torrential rain which turns into hailstones. Before I've even taken a sip of welcoming hot tea (Dorset tea bags blended from Rwandan leaves grown in the rich volcanic soil of the Rift Valley, go on google it, I did!) 'The undertaker' is looking gloomily at his weather app. To coincide with a burial later on today, there is a black cloud depicting heavy rain. 'You've got adequate waterproofs haven't you?' I comment in what I think is a pleasant manner. By his reaction I must have said something wrong. This subject is red rag to a bull and it was naughty of me to purposefully needle him before 8am.
MIL sends plea for bread, milk, fruit and veg so rather than queue in the rain we drive to the local farm shop. It was a thrill to break out of the confines of central Bridport even though its only a five minute trip.
The countryside was a joy to behold especially as it had been refreshed by the rain. Glorious and majestic horse-chestnut trees are at their finest right now. The pink ones, (sadly rare) have to be my favourite tree of all time. This leads to a debate about what trees we would plant if we owned a garden larger than a postage stamp. 'The Undertaker' favours ornamental ones such as Acers but I guess I am more traditional. Thank God we reach the farm shop because we are never going to agree. We don't go in together (OBVIOUSLY) so I opt for the thrill of going in for the shop. Were money not an issue I could do a one stop shop here and be done with it.
Having delivered MIL's shopping I spy a lilac tree (another favourite of mine) in full bloom in her driveway so I nip out of the car and snip off a couple of branches. A friend recently told me that it was bad luck to bring lilac into the house but the scent is so overpowering and calming I'm going to risk it. Its now sitting next to me as I type keeping me sane and soothed.
The rain stops so its time for the snail patrol. Someone's obviously warned them to lie low which brings me to the conclusion that I am not the only spook in the village. The benefits of the heavy rain are obvious. No snails, no slugs, no greenfly, just signs of life appearing on the roses and the foxgloves. How exciting, something positive to look forward to in the days ahead.
My cousin Richard sends me a link from The Guardian newspaper in which is reported that he, as talented and hardworking as usual, has been cooking up to 300 meals a day for NHS workers from the kitchen of the Old Wimbledonians rugby club. He comments that you can't eat cardboard pizzas from Dominos forever and I can quite see his point, sadly Dominos are upset by all accounts. Whatever you do, however you put your point of view across, there's no pleasing everyone is there? Being outspoken must run in the family! Personally I think we should all applaud everyone who is out there doing their best in the community, people utilising their talents in whatever way they can, joining together to help us all pull through this dreadful time.
People criticising other peoples efforts from the comfort of their sofas should do us all a favour and pipe down. It's not a perfect world, mistakes are made everywhere, always have been and always will be. It's what, at the end of the day, make us all human.
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