Blogging from Bridport - Day 45
The cast:
Me
'The undertaker' (husband)
Another Saturday morning. I'm still not used to not leaping out of bed to set up for the market. You would think by now... but anyway.
There are important decisions to be made, pressing matters to be attended to. A classic Victoria sponge sandwich filled with whipped cream and lashings of homemade strawberry jam or scones with clotted cream and lashings of etc etc? Which to bake and indulge in, that is the question? It took a whole pot of tea and some minor debating until we reached a unanimous decision. Victoria sponge won hands down. In the end we concluded that we might be tempted to freeze some of the scones whereas with a whole sponge we could avoid such silliness.
It takes awhile to find the sponge tins and when I do they are covered in dust. Were we really so health conscious and dreary BC2020? or were we just too busy being busy doing nothing? Food for thought. No butter substitutes here either, no sireeeeeeee, in she goes and rises like a beauty. Soft to the touch and light as a feather with a faint golden glow as she comes out of the oven. Cooling on the rack she exudes an air of homeliness and good clean living. Afterwards in all her finery, by that I mean a thin dusting of icing sugar to complete her beauty I pop a single candle on top. 'The undertaker' looks perplexed. 'Someones birthday? he enquires. 'Somebody's somewhere' I say and we're off with the cake slice, no holding us back these days.
I thought I was so clever ordering medication online until that is I needed medication. Getting the prescription from the doctor was a piece of cake (sorry for the obsession) and although they could see it on the computer it couldn't be opened until it was ready to be opened or something, and then they would post it because that's what I had requested. Came home and cancelled meds by post having paid through the nose for tablets which state I can't drink with them. Waste of money all round.
Not feeling quite so tickety boo and upbeat today so decline walk with 'The undertaker'. Did he look relieved? Was that my imagination, is paranoia finally setting in? He sets off whistling (happily) so I sneak upstairs to bed for a snooze. Its a win win for both of us on reflection.
Snail patrol was done today, (three) and there's a new Momma seagull in town happily ensconced against the neighbours chimney pot.
I have seen no-one (to admit to) and spoken to no-one. Saturday has passed the same as any other day and we are alive and well and have stuck to the guidelines. We are doing our best. My Father used to say 'you can't do anymore than that'.
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