Lockdown from Bridport - Part 2 - Day 16

 It's a lot better for your blood pressure and general mental wellbeing to avoid reading any newspaper I have decided. Today for example in a broadsheet on page 2 was an enormous article entitled 'war of the WAGS'. A complete load of tosh about two women married to over paid footballers, sniping and bitching in public via a social network site. Please ladies, show some style and decorum and get a life! It doesn't stop there either. Amazon urging people to shop early to avoid overloading the poor old post office as the rush before Christmas may overwhelm them, the poor wee lambs. Who falls for this blatant bullshit?

AVOID AMAZON ALTOGETHER and when we can, shop locally and help ease the strain on dear old postie who is, after all, a key worker and doesn't need extra deliveries of rubbish. Simple. Problem solved. Well, there are today's issues dealt with.

What a dreary drizzly old day. My friend The Reverend popped by (in a suitably ecclesiastically distanced manner, of course). We exchanged pleasantries in a measured upbeat manner. Everyday since the first lockdown, he has posted up on the internet a daily picture of a calendar, a lit candle and uplifting words. Now there is commitment. If his words soothe just one person a day, he explained, then the exercise is worthwhile. I agreed. The same with my daily lockdown blog, if I raise a single smile then its a job worth doing. Not that I can be acerbically witty every day, if I were, I would be a comedian. Perhaps I am...

Another friend from a nearby clothes shop has given me a very striking vintage mannequin upon which to display my clothes. Currently she stares out of my front room window at home. People have somewhat mixed feelings about her. For my part I can't decide whether or not she comes across as fearsome. However, I suppose once she's ensconced in the shop she will make me look an absolute poppet. 'The Undertaker' says she will just highlight how short I am. He really has a way with words.

Today we had flying cement in the shop. Whilst my, normally competent, husband gaily filled a hole in the back of the fireplace from the room behind, the sloppy muck was flying out the other side and landing on the flagstones (he so hates getting things wrong!) It was some time before I realised what was happening. 'Time for a cup of tea and a biscuit' I said in a nonchalant fashion. I've been secretly craving a custard tart all day, but that's just between you and I.

I can begin to see the light at the end of the tunnel. Three large tubs of filler later, one monster amount of white paint and the place is beginning to take shape.

Watch this space, the end is nigh!