Lockdown from Bridport - Part 3 -Day 63

We get up bright and early, there is a frost on the lawn and not a cloud to be seen. I'm chirping like a canary let out of its cage because, and here's an admission, my moods are dictated by the weather. The daffodils on the kitchen table are a glorious sight to behold. I'm quite transfixed by the early sun on them and spend a few moments taking photographs. Meanwhile 'The Undertaker' takes advantage of my preoccupation and puts a full six slices of toast into my treasured chrome dualit toaster. 'What no porridge'? I say. He smirks to himself, but to my mind, he is adverse to anything that might stop his arteries clogging up. He then proceeds to put strawberry jam and sliced Leerdammer cheese on his toast. I tell him I am beyond caring what he stuffs himself with because until you have had a health scare or a 'wake up call' you assume you are invincible. I pop two butter mints in my pocket. 'Pure sugar' he cries. 

The beach is beyond beautiful. We are the first people to park and there's not a breath of wind. The tide is out and there are large areas of firm fine sand to walk on. As we dodge the waves a couple are approaching from the far end of the beach. We know them, so stop to chat. 'To view or not to view' I ask them. It's three females against one man so we conclude we're going to watch, even if its only the first ten minutes, on the basis that if we don't how can we form an opinion? 'The Undertaker' is still adamant he won't. There then follows a little difference of ideas which I don't feel I should go into. Suffice to say someone was of the mind that it could signal the end of the monarchy as we know it. 'It's been going downhill since the Magna Carta' I say which lightens the tension. 'The Undertaker' is left spluttering all the way along the beach. 

My phone rings and I feel compelled to answer it, could be business after all... It would be fair to say that the person on the other end of the phone did not possess the English language as his mother tongue. 'Hello Sally, I am calling from the NHS to ask about your health and that of your family'. 'Why would you do that' I reply. 'Why would you speak to me in that way Sally' he replies at which point I cut short the call. Because the subject of the abolition of the royal family is over, for me at least, I explain that I think I have had a hoax call purporting to be from the NHS and the covid jab. 'Supposing it was genuine'? 'The Undertaker' asks. I wonder about this as the waves lap at my wellingtons.

I phone up one of the funniest people I know, laughter is free and so beneficial to our wellbeing and we do so both love a little indiscreet gossip. Immediately he has me in stitches as we plough our way through scintillating slander. We both agree that our respective lives are somewhat lacking at present. 'No joie de vivre' we lament. He goes on to tell me that he has just conducted a zoom call with some eminently important German gentlemen. They are taken aback at his daily fee so he is prompted to inform them that he wouldn't dream of getting out of bed for less and certainly not into bed for anything but double. Apparently the assembled Germans did not find his flippancy remotely funny. Which I suppose is why misunderstandings are so commonplace, it still left us howling with mirth. 

Finally I must take this opportunity to wish all my lovely female readers a very happy International Women's Day.