Lockdown from Bridport - Part 3 - Day 87


Decide to change the shop window hoping it keeps people entertained as they go by. A woman stops and peers in. Hoping that something has grabbed her attention, maybe the white linen Jaeger top or stripy Jaeger dress, the mustard linen dress, the retro skirt, the trendy white Converse All Star trainers. But no, she wants the chicken, the only item not for sale. She goes on to tell me she's having some Buff Orpington chickens delivered tomorrow. 'The real deal then' I say. We both laugh.

'The Undertaker' has made me 'home alone' as he's gone on a weapon handling course for the evening. I sit with a pot of tea at my front room window as people and traffic trundle endlessly past. I try and imagine how it would be if we had a 7pm curfew (as in France). I can just about hear the birdsong outside.

As its such a warm day I pull out all my pullovers in my cashmere drawer. Out flies a moth and I curse, the critter has chomped a hole in one of my pullovers. I manage to squash it with my thumb. For all the money we have so far spent trying to rid ourselves of them in the house I could have bought a brand spanking new drawer full... 'The Undertaker' says he is going to buy some Trichogramma which are small parasite wasps and swears they are impossible to see with the naked eye. I reluctantly agree to the purchase but shudder at the thought.

The man on the door at Waitrose tells me it has been 'crazy' but luck must have been on my side as I go straight in for a pack of hot cross buns. Good Friday is simply not the same without a warm buttered bun. Hopefully we shall manage a walk as the weather looks promising. Once I have taken my Mother for her second jab at the surgery its rucksacks on backs and a stroll to the sea. What is traditionally one of my busiest trading weekends of the year will be spent as though we are on holiday. Its all very strange this year. 

 

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