Lockdown from Bridport - Part 2 - Day 10

An absolutely perfect day, for cracking on with the renovation of my new shop. With the rain lashing down hard and horizontal whilst the wind howled relentlessly, we braced ourselves for the job in hand. I had somehow purchased a fire basket online whilst supping a glass of red wine last night. The pick up time had clashed with my flu jab. 'On the ground in France' valiantly drove in atrocious conditions to the neighbouring town. He very kindly picked up a loaf of bread and a mouth-watering assortment of pastries from my favourite baker, The Evershot Bakery. 'Got to keep the morale of the troops up' he said. Too true.

There was a long line of people snaking round the surgery and my heart sank. 'Let's pop back' suggested 'The Undertaker'. 'Meanwhile we'll nip and get some more wall filler' The walls are gobbling up filler at an alarming rate... By the time we got back the queue was a lot shorter. 'Under 65'? the nurse enquired. It's either the face mask or the hard slog that is ageing me prematurely, or both. I'm not a great fan of needles so when the doctor produced it I asked if I might sit down. 'Are you likely to faint' he enquired alarmed. I squirmed and looked away and then apologised for being a ninny. On my return to the shop I had a second iced bun to keep up my sugar levels. Not entirely necessary, but I'm sure you get my drift...

I do feel we have made progress today. 'The Undertaker' pulled down all the rotten wood from the loo 'ceiling' and various unnecessary bits woodwork from the walls (Not structural I hasten to add). The angle grinder came out to cut away various stubborn nails filling the shop with an indoor firework display. I set about freeing an original beam of a) a thick coat of (barely still attached) white gloss paint and b) the defunct wiring that was still up, serving no purpose whatsoever and certainly not helping with the aesthetics.

In a weird way I feel rejuvenated. Radio 2 was humming away in the background whilst the American presenter kept threatening to play the first Christmas tune. 'Don't you dare' I screamed at the radio.

My late Father's words of wisdom rang in my ears. 'Preparation Sally, preparation'  Yeeeeees! Sadly not my strongest point but I'm trying, I really am, as boring as it is.

When all is done and dusted I will be able to look up at the beam with a certain degree of satisfaction, safe in the knowledge that his words weren't wasted. I can be proud in the knowledge that its all being done properly, not rushed at haphazardly and that in the long run that space will thank me.