Pot-Pourri

Life’s like that, isn’t it? Pot-pourri? A mixture of sweet and sour? And today was just that.

This morning I left John in bed while I swanned off to my weekly yoga session. The session was fabulous – not only did Jaime focus on how our bodies work, but she managed to zoom in on one particular issue I’d been having with my hip. Well, that was a happy coincidence, wasn’t it?

Whilst we were in class, I could hear the rain thundering on the roof of the church hall. And, sure enough, there was a great big puddle outside the doorway. Paddle, paddle, paddle. And it was chilly.

I drove home. Parked the car. And found that John wasn’t in. Oh. The white car was on the drive. Surely he hadn’t gone to the shops in this rain on foot? Had he? It turned out that he had. He arrived home a few minutes after me, accompanied by Puffing Billy and what sounded like a ‘squeeze box’*.

“I didn’t expect you to have walked to the shops,” I said. No, John wished he hadn’t. He’d had to rest along the way home and was just stopping to catch his breath when he saw a blue car sail by…… “Oh, I’m sorry, sweetheart, I didn’t see you,” I exclaimed. He hadn’t expected me to see him or stop, but it was galling, nonetheless, to see me drive past. “I think I’ll go and have sit down in the lounge,” he announced, and promptly went and had a leisurely sit down.

I know 14.5 degrees isn’t exactly chilly – but it ain’t warm, is it? Time to kindle a fire then. Toasty toes ‘n all that… and I think John approved, because he had a nice snooze in front of it this afternoon.

In addition to warming ourselves by the fire, I chose to warm myself with the smoothing iron. Yep, the sheets needed pressing. Oh, joy. And it took a while….. yes, yes, I know I don’t need to iron sheets, but still, it was therapeutic…..

Then this afternoon, we toddled off to Kenilworth to look at a house with Michael. Regrettably, it was no good. We don’t quite know how we missed it on the plans, but I nearly fell about laughing when I saw the bathroom. Honestly, it was the tiniest, teeniest bathroom you ever saw, with a bath tub to match. That’ll be a ‘no’, then. Disappointing. Come on, Kenilworth, show us that you’ve got better than this! Please?

On our way back from house-hunting, we called in to Paul and Harriet’s to pick up some more bits that we’d left at theirs. A five-minute, well-distanced flurry of greetings and chat – and concern over the COVID possibility. Lily had been for a PCR test and she’s just waiting for results. What’s the likelihood, folks? She has cold symptoms. The girl she sat next to at school has tested positive. Anyone want to offer the odds? I am staying optimistic and keeping my fingers crossed that it’s just a cold – which surely it must be, as she’s had COVID already, mustn’t it? But hey, who knows…….. however, if Lily has it, then Paul may have it as well, as he, too, has cold symptoms – oh Lordy, Lordy.

This evening, after the disappointment of the Kenilworth house not being up to snuff, I decided that the only thing to do was to take some consolation in a glass of red wine (or two). I’d like to to have had the energy to do stuff, but the TV mesmerised me, the wine anaesthetised me and time rolled on. Ah well, maybe tomorrow?

In the meantime, I was pleased to see that there is a reduction in the positive cases of COVID today, with 26,628 people having been confirmed as infected. However, 185 people have died with it today in the community and 90 in hospitals since Saturday. That’s really not so good, but it reflects the numbers of those infected a few weeks ago, so not surprising.

We’re taking the rough with the smooth. We’re doing our best to stay upbeat. And we’re sending our love to you all, friends and relatives, in the hope that it uplifts and supports. God bless. Look after yourselves and stay safe, everyone.

* squeeze box = an accordion or a concertina that wheezes well when squeezed