Lockdown diary from Bridport - Day 64
The cast:
Me
'The undertaker' (husband)
'Nearly 90' (mother)
'MIL' (MIL)
'Office darling' (daughter)
It was a mistake to buy the supermarkets own brand of kitchen floor cleaner. It was the temptation of a citrus and ginger aroma that swung it for me, anything to ring the changes, add a frisson of excitement to my day. I was dashing so I daresay I may have applied a splosh too much to the mop, at any rate it frothed up and when I rinsed it it frothed up further. Let that be a lesson I thought to myself. Took twice as long at least. You live and learn.
'The undertaker' is all excited about a couple of things. First of all ghastly Mr Ratty is being cunning, as I guessed he would be. I won't go into detail because its all rather gory, but suffice to say 'The undertaker' has upped his game. If he cant outwit a rat then there's no hope.
Secondly, he has another live video link up tonight with the Army cadets where to his delight he has been instructed to wear uniform as opposed to mufti or civvies. I personally don't think he needs the trousers but he is adamant that if he crosses his legs he may be caught out. Such all important detail to adhere to...
I have spent the day sorting clothes at my 'base'. If you're going to spend the day under the pretence of working on possibly the hottest day of the year so far, you may as well slave under a searing sun in a beautiful garden. A shady avenue artfully planted up from branches of willow makes the most delightful backdrop for lovely linens. Likewise summer dresses look rather fetching hanging off a tree in a wild orchard bursting with buttercups and Queen Anne lace. Lucky me, I wont pretend otherwise.
Thursday night is the monster shopping expedition. There's 'MIL's' list along with 'nearly 90's' requirements too, never mind our haul. Mostly it is a civilised experience until it comes to packing it all at the checkout and keeping a 2m distance from the cashier. My favourite chocolate is on offer so it seems prudent to stock up, the supermarkets are targeting my weak spot obviously. I feel it will be my downfall along with so many other things but at this stage I'm beyond caring. On arriving home there is nowhere to park outside the house, you have to wonder where all the extra cars are from.
I reckon we deserve a stiff gin and tonic after all that. It's dangerously close to the 19.00hr deadline for 'The undertakers' live link up. Too late to eat beforehand then. 'If you start cooking at 19.30hrs precisely' he says 'then we can quickly eat before the clap at 20.00hrs' before I resume the meeting.
'Office darling' alarms me by sending me a faraway shot of the distinctive cliffs of West Bay obviously from a boat. I say a boat but to my mind its more of a rubber dinghy so I immediately text back to remind her of the need to wear a life jacket at all times.
So... to recap. Long hot day at the cutting edge of retail. Supermarket sweep. Pressure to provide meal at 19.45hrs on the dot not to mention 'Office darling' drifting on the open sea. Another gulp of G&T beckons whilst earnest voices can be heard in the background discussing 'social distancing' which back in my day was referred to as 'spatial awareness'.
If I don't end up three sheets to the wind it will be a miracle.
Comments