Bridport lockdown diary - Day 62
The cast:
Me
'The undertaker' (husband)
'MIL' (mother in law)
'On the ground in France' (son)
Looking out of the bedroom window early this morning I see a strange man lurking in the garden. So far as I can make out he is wearing black latex gloves and striding forth with purpose. Popping in my contact lenses I have confirmation that it is 'The undertaker' looking mighty pleased with himself. Refreshing myself with the first cup of tea of the day he regales his cunning plan to me as he returns indoors. He's used a corpse of a dead grey mouse, (never fear not a sweet field mouse), as bait to lure Mr Ratty to his demise. Failing that he threatens to stake the wretched creature out in the dead of night by lying on the steamer. 'In full camouflage gear' I say laughingly. 'If needs be' he says with grim determination. Words fail me.
An absolute stunner of a spring day to be sure. The sort of day where you want to be free as a bird, tramping up hill and down dale with a rucksack on your back containing a juicy sandwich and a slice of rich homemade fruit cake. Sadly 'The undertaker' has commitments (work) and I have chores (housework)
I leap at the chance to go and fetch 'MIL's' prescriptions as it means a trip in the car to the pharmacy just slightly out of town. Delivering them to her later I venture into my 'workspace' which is an outbuilding next to her house. It is filled with rails and rails of wonderful linen outfits all destined for a bumper summer market. Alas, it is anyone's guess when this will resume. I quickly pick out some rather fetching pieces for myself, when it occurs to me I don't have anywhere to go. Never mind I wander round the garden and pick myself some branches off the orange blossom tree along with some foliage and generally poke around enjoying the space. On the way out through the village I have to reverse for a large camper van heading straight for me, driven by an elderly lady. Such an unusual sight these days.
I have seen two vapour trails from planes in the sky today, another sight we have become unaccustomed to witnessing. The traffic on the roads is heavier although there are many more cyclists taking to the roads than ever before. That has to be a good thing surely?
I pass by the churchyard where my Father's grave is and see that the maintenance man is in full swing with his strimmer. I admit I did have words with him when he saw fit to raze down the plants I had so lovingly planted but he assured me that he had left well alone and that French lavender was doing wonderfully well but alas the English was struggling. It seemed rather apt to video call 'On the ground in France' to report back on the battle of the lavenders. It is so stunningly peaceful up there with a view to the iconic Colmers hill beyond that I overcame any prejudices I may have been harbouring over the outcome...
Tonight is shepherds pie made with the lamb from our Sunday roast which we cooked on Monday. The sheer bliss of feeling unfettered by routine is one of the things that has emerged from being in lockdown, there is a newly found 'laissez-faire' attitude to life. Somehow the philosophical phrase 'Carpe diem' has never been more important. Life as we know it of late is trickling through our fingers at an alarming speed. Try and retain a few precious grains at least.
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