Lockdown from Bridport - Part 3 - Day 46

It was one of those days when you could get blown off your feet but I went down to the shop anyway as I'm giving clothes away that I feel wont sell. Not that there are many items like that, I hasten to add, but of course people do kindly donate to me and I in turn find new owners for those items. I am so anti just bundling it all in a bag because more often than not it will  end up in landfill. Finding people who will actually take free clothes is more difficult than you would imagine, but when you match up an outfit to a person in need it's very rewarding. Today a lady picked up a warm jacket from Mountain Warehouse. She had walked quite a way on a frame as she appeared to have a broken leg. She popped it on immediately put the hood up and was off. 

On another note a lady goes by and sees a gorgeous Trina Turk silk dress in the window, which as they go for hundreds, was an utter bargain at £45. I had looked at it rather longingly myself, can't imagine why I didn't try it on... She bought it and was thrilled. 

I nearly fainted when I checked my emails today. There appeared to be a letter from the local council informing me I was entitled, as a shop owner, to assistance. I have never in my life received any money for doing nothing but then again I've never not worked in one way or another since I was 15. So although surprised, I still have rent and bills to pay despite being closed, but it sure took any stress away. I closed the shop immediately, (who wouldn't), it was cold and grim and ironing linens had lost all urgency. Went past the new wine merchants which has recently opened on South Street. When we are all let loose again it's going to be fabulous. There are tables dotted around, there will be tastings along with boards of charcuterie, you can almost imagine on a warm summer afternoon/early evening the doors flung wide open and the sound of clinking glasses and chatter. 

I've had a slightly dry cough for the last few days which 'The Undertaker' says I should have checked out which has sent me completely apoplectic with hypochondria. To make matters worse it developed into a headache and tiredness. He came home and looked at me with some concern as I lay prone and weak on the sofa. 'Have you lost your sense of smell'? he asked. 'Nope' I said feebly. 'Your taste'? he said. I tottered downstairs and grasped the bottle I had purchased earlier on, 'Baron de Badassiere, La Cave les Costieres de Pomerols. The wine clung to the sides of the glass as I poured it. Grown in the vineyards of the Languedoc it was a taste of days gone by. My palette hasn't failed me, 'The Undertaker' can breath easy tonight!