Lockdown from Bridport - Part 3 - Day 35

 It's not often I'm forced to admit I'm wrong but my words yesterday damning my multi coloured amaryllis were hasty. This morning it has excelled itself and is giving us an indoor firework display with bursts of colour. 

Such a gusty day with biting winds. I pull out all the thermals and cashmere I possess (admittedly quite a lot) cashmere not thermals I hasten to add,  and layer up for the day ahead. It's not a terribly pleasing look I admit but 'The Undertaker' tells me its going to feel like -7. Not in the kitchen I think to myself as the radiator is refusing to turn itself off, but I keep quiet. The toffee coloured wool and cashmere swing coat I kept for myself, rather than sell, easily fits over  the ensemble and with a jaunty vibrant orange beret to complete the 'look' I set off to the shop. It was a mistake to glance at my reflection as I strode confidently past the mirrored window of our 1920's Electric Palace and I fervently hoped I wouldn't see anyone. Once at the shop I check that the loo hasn't frozen over and satisfied that the little greenhouse heater is saving me from financial ruin by its freezing and cracking, I carry on to Waitrose. I'm just checking out some healthy looking fat cauliflowers when my phone beeps. It's a message on WhatsApp from some random bloke. 'Hello dear' it says 'I found your profile and you look interesting, I hope you're not mad?' He very kindly provides a picture of himself, I take a snap of a cauliflower and send it to him before his summary blocking. Such is my life these days it seems.

I go and take my Mother a newspaper. I can see the way she's looking at my coat, something is obviously amiss. She pulls out a classic Daks wool tailored coat from her wardrobe and asks if I would like it for the shop. It goes on my back immediately. 'It'll never sell' I inform her.

I battle back home along the street where the wind nearly knocks me over and cuts me in half. There are some tiny flecks of snow beginning to fall. The cheery coffee shop man calls out and asks me if I have my snow shovel ready. We laugh loudly, we never get snow here. 'I expect all the idle rich will be dusting down their ski's' he guffaws.

This lockdown is clearly driving us all round the twist. I get home and for some inexplicable reason play some music from long long ago. I do a little dance round the kitchen and for a split second I'm on the disco floor with the strobe light flashing overhead. The music finishes and I come back down to earth. I place the cauliflower in a large bowl. It may not be a fancy multi coloured amaryllis but it is a fine specimen all the same and as such deserves a prominent spot in the kitchen.

'The Undertaker' arrives home. 'What have you done today'? he enquires pleasantly. 'Same as usual' I reply. No need to expand further.