Lockdown from Bridport - Part 3 - Day 55

Another sunny start to the morning where it is possible to see the cleverly mended patch on the vintage Liberty print curtains as the rays try to penetrate them. You don't notice it when its night time so its a 50% win situation. 

Normally I would suggest a packed lunch and a monumental hike down to Eype beach to enjoy the sunshine. The thought of a wetsuit briefly entered my mind as I will never be a cold sea swimmer but this week the body is firmly telling me no. For breakfast we have a free range boiled egg accompanied by a free range pork sausage. It's quite ridiculous feeling naughty to indulge in something other than oats and ryvitas smeared in healthy honey from happy hives, but there you go, overnight I have become a bore. 'Can you remember the last time you had a decent bloody Mary for breakfast? I ask 'The Undertaker'. He looks at me askance. 'Loving the sausage' I say. 

We decide to visit the local garden centre for some horse poo to pop on the roses. We don't have our own stables funnily enough and our horse owning friends are keeping theirs for their own borders, . When we get there there's an enormous queue of old people just like us. 'Sod this' I say and we turn round. 'License to print money' I say out loud. Because we are smarter than we look we nip back just before closing time for our purchase. There is no-one there because they have already visited, paid up and planted. We inspect the espalier fruit trees and come to the conclusion our pruning may not have been quite so disastrous as imagined. 'The Undertaker' announces we have three bags of poo for the price of two but its too late to spread now. I feel a sense of relief.

We pop up to the shop because I decide to put in the window what can only be described as a 'non binary' model in the window. After the demise of Mr Potato head this week, I like to keep abreast of breaking news, I conclude that I must surely be the only retailer in Bridport at the 'cutting edge' of forward thinking. I may be mistaken of course. After the furore I caused yesterday stating I wasn't partial to corned beef, perhaps I need to reign in my opinions.

I note with interest that there is a new book launched for modern day etiquette in the post covid era especially in the work place. It sets out a guide for common courtesy as we navigate a changed world. Now I know from personal hearsay that there are still an awful lot of misogynists out there, dinosaurs from a bygone era, pompous deluded jumped up snobs who think that being old school gives them the right to be rude and dismissive of anyone they feel is beneath them. I daresay even as they peruse the weekend papers it wouldn't occur to them to purchase a copy of this learned tome.

'That extra bag of manure could use a good home' I observe to 'The Undertaker'. 'You wouldn't' he says. 'Try me' I reply and all of a sudden I get a rush of days gone by. Oh you have to mourn the demise of free speech and the right to protest in a non violent manner...