Isolation day 111

It must have been in 1961, just after Christmas, when the vicar came to call. We had been playing with my new WHOOPEE cushion, which were all the rage at the time. As kids do, we were hiding it under various cushions on assorted chairs, and waiting till some poor unsuspecting person, i.e. a parent, sat on it. Well, we had never had a visit from the vicar before. Come to think of it, we had never had a visit from ANY Vicar before. However, this one, Anthony Rowland Smith, (honestly) was trying to get all his parishioners to sign up to regular “giving” for St Christopher’s Church. I had answered the door and, in a state of some shock, had directed him to the “front” room. As I went to call my Mum, I heard a distinct PHUUUT. Now, those of you familiar with whoopee cushions will know that they have two different responses to being sat on. The preferred option is when a light person sits down on it and you get a long satisfying raspberry sound (for want of a better word). However, when the cushion is subject to sudden heavy weight, the air is expelled very quickly, and produces the aforementioned PHUUT. Anthony Rowland Smith was a large man. As my mother went in to talk to him, I decided to remain in the kitchen, and tried to explain the situation to my father.

When I say today has been rather a PHUUT of a day, I hope you will understand what I mean. Those of you who are connoisseurs of English prose, may also have noticed a totally different style of writing. This is because the writing of today’s blog, has been taken over by your usual scribe’s spouse, your usual scribe having succumbed to a PHUUT of a day.

So, today has been a strange day, which actually began last night. Although every day is the same, somehow, Sundays still manage to feel different. After Anne had posted her Blog last night, she came to bed about 1 a.m. I had been having a restless sleep, and shortly after getting into bed, Anne asked, “Do you think taking a couple of paracetamol might help??” This is code for “either lie still or go to the spare room”.

The spare room was cooler than the master bedroom, and very dark, thanks to blackout blinds. I woke sometime in the morning, expecting to hear Anne singing along with her church service. As there was no clock in the spare room, nor any light, I assumed it was not yet 9 a.m. I eventually got up, and discovered it was 10:30 and Anne was not “going to church”. She was going to join the group for “morning coffee” at 11.

About 10 past 11 Anne came into the kitchen having left the coffee morning. “Just not in the mood”.

We decided to try and do an Ocado order, so I went and booked a delivery slot, whilst Anne did the fruit for breakfast.We ate breakfast then did the online shop. How does one make that sound interesting????

Because it was a PHUUT of a day, there was a certain reluctance to keep going upstairs to winkle Granny out of bed. Consequently, it was about 1:40 p.m. before she got downstairs. Anne had made her a lunch of an egg sandwich, and we had some discussion as to whether or not to take it through to the lounge, or get Granny to come into the kitchen. Granny normally can manage to get her own breakfast of Apricot Wheats, and then eat her lunch about 30 mins later. Anne left the sandwich at Granny’s place on the kitchen table, and she eventually came through and ate the sandwich for breakfast.

By now, it was time for the Austrian Grand Prix on TV. I sat down to watch it, Anne got the ironing out, and Hazel came through and sat in her usual telly watching spot. Now here is one of those little conundrums that play out in the back of your mind. I COULD have recorded the Grand Prix and watched it later. Granny clearly was not happy at having to surrender the choice of TV programme to someone else and miss watching Tenable, Tipping Point, The Chase. Again, I COULD go and get on with tidying the “office-cum-gym” and let her watch her programmes…….. but the Grand Prix was very exciting, with a large number of cars retiring due to mechanical failure; signs of a long layoff it seems.

After the GP, Anne and I went to Paul’s, to deliver some goodies we had ordered for Freddie and Lily. We spent a heart-warming half hour socially distanced in their garden. Funny how missing a hug with the ones you love can seem so weird. So near yet so FAR!!!!

On our return home, Anne made the Spaghetti Bolognaise whilst I finally finished the office-cum-gym. Hazel normally spends most of her dinner time forensically dissecting her meal, looking for anything that might be regarded as “tough”. We managed to convince her that the mushrooms did not fall into the “tough” category, and about 7:30, we managed to retire to the lounge to watch TV. We watched The Durrells again, and then Maigret. At about 9:30 we remembered we were supposed to be joining in the Kenilworth Sleaths Zoom Quiz. Oops. Was it because today was Sunday? Was it because today was a PHUUT day?? Or was it because of copious amounts of wine? Who knows.

Remembering the Covid-19 figures, the figures are clearly “Sunday” figures, because there were 2 deaths in hospitals, the government stated 22 deaths in all settings and there were 516 newly reported cases.

So, it’s been an odd day, definitely felt like a Sunday, yet nothing happened to make today any different to every other day. Driving to Paul’s today, we saw lots of people out walking, entering pubs, but we didn’t see any face masks. And, surprise surprise, the papers report on last night’s lack of social distancing as the pubs open, after 12 weeks, on a Saturday night!!!! If it didn’t have the potential for being so tragic, it would be laughable.

Well folks, please do what you can to keep yourselves safe, hopefully normal service will be resumed tomorrow.

Stay safe, and alert.

John