Lockdown from Bridport - Part 3 - Day 11

 I couldn't help but laugh out loud this morning as I toiled at the kitchen sink and gazed into the garden. What was the cause of my mirth you may wonder? It was the bird table, laden with every conceivable tit bit known to the world of our feathered friends, remaining forlorn and empty. Let me paint the picture for you further. Imagine if you will a table groaning and piled high with delicacies and free to boot. Its the equivalent of fois gras, lobster thermidor and an oozing continental cheese board. He becomes defensive and says it takes time for them to find it. 'Why then, the hive of avian activity on our neighbour's feeders, not four yards away?' I say...

Early to rise this morning and there's a wash in the machine by 8.30am. What is the secret to my boundless energy you may wonder? It has a lot to do with the fact that the sun was showing signs of appearing following pretty pink streaks in the sky earlier on. 'The Undertaker' is now resigned to the bleak fact that I suffer from SAD. He refused to believe it at first but now takes it for granted that if its a dull grey day then as hard as I try not to be I can be quite morose. Non-stop rain for days on end? Don't let's even go there! However today it was a 'blitz it' sort of day. The shop was tidied, rugs swept and yet another display popped into the window. Saw a couple of people I knew too and bade them a cheery 'hello'. Didn't ask them how they were, wonder if that was remiss of me?

'The Undertaker' arrives back in decent time from parental duties for us to take a walk over the muddy fields to the sea. We haven't really taken a respectable amount of exercise for a few days so we were huffing and puffing rather as we plodded up the hill from West Bay to the cliff tops. I took a quick snap of a couple soaking up the view from a bench. Afterwards he ponders as to whether people will think its a shot of the two of us. 'Suck on this' I say and pass him a butter mint from Waitrose, which incidentally, I am rather partial to.

The sun is sinking fast now and we decide to take a short cut home as the thought of lighting the fire seems eminently more appealing than being chilled to the bone. In the distance is a dog walking figure in a hoodie which I think maybe our postman however 'The Undertaker' says it's the wrong dog. Suddenly the figure looks up and shouts 'Oi! Seeing you twice in one day is too much, at least you're out of your dressing gown though'. Thankfully we are the only people in earshot of this, over familiar, exchange. Much hilarity ensues, mainly at my expense.

We tune into the six o'clock news and FINALLY hear that our borders are being closed to overseas visitors. 

We must all play our part, just as our grandparents did during the war. They showed resilience and backbone along with a strength of character which, sadly, these days does not seem to be as apparent as it should be.

Enough said.