A Saturday
Lorraine preoccupied all day with working out the various scenarios of children returning to school. The government has had three months to work this out, but beyond issuing a few dictates that are then withdrawn due to their ineptitude and lack of consultation. Even the dogs in the street could have told you that if you require two meters between each child, for example, you are going to need double the amount of rooms (not to mention the staff to supervise this). Nothing has been thought through. Just one example of Government by this inept band of intellectual Lilliputians.
Up early, as Beth had bounced into the kitchen and begun to make pancakes, which I had with bacon and maple syrup. A taste combination that reminds me of Mason, and assorted North American adventures.
Lorraine and I went to Marks & Sparks food hall at Patcham, and mooched around together. Some folks simply do not get the idea of social distancing. I was standing in an isle and felt something around my ankles, and it was a woman crouching down worrying at bottles of water inches from me. I've not been to supermarkets for a while, and I still get the jolt of seeing everyone going about in facemasks and gloves and so on.
Beth unwell today: a sore throat and as she is prone to these, nobody is too alarmed.
So Lorraine doing this for most of the day. I contented myself by doing some more work on my new story. Suddenly very pleased with it, after yesterday's revelation. I also went for a longish walk to my usual haunts, and then came back and drank beer in the back garden, overcast and occasionally spitting as it was. I read some Bruno Schulz, who is brilliant but hard going, and in this way he reminds me a bit of Thomas Ligotti, and chatted to Anton on the phone for a bit. I felt happy sitting in my garden.
Watched some TV later in the evening, munching pizzas we bought in M and S. Lorraine and I watched a film about women working in a department store in 1959 in Australia. Nothing much happened, and what did happen was benign, which ticked Lorraine's boxes.
Noticed clumps of these wee white flowers today, which weren't there a couple of days ago in the long grass on the edge of the gold courses.
Up early, as Beth had bounced into the kitchen and begun to make pancakes, which I had with bacon and maple syrup. A taste combination that reminds me of Mason, and assorted North American adventures.
Lorraine and I went to Marks & Sparks food hall at Patcham, and mooched around together. Some folks simply do not get the idea of social distancing. I was standing in an isle and felt something around my ankles, and it was a woman crouching down worrying at bottles of water inches from me. I've not been to supermarkets for a while, and I still get the jolt of seeing everyone going about in facemasks and gloves and so on.
Beth unwell today: a sore throat and as she is prone to these, nobody is too alarmed.
So Lorraine doing this for most of the day. I contented myself by doing some more work on my new story. Suddenly very pleased with it, after yesterday's revelation. I also went for a longish walk to my usual haunts, and then came back and drank beer in the back garden, overcast and occasionally spitting as it was. I read some Bruno Schulz, who is brilliant but hard going, and in this way he reminds me a bit of Thomas Ligotti, and chatted to Anton on the phone for a bit. I felt happy sitting in my garden.
Watched some TV later in the evening, munching pizzas we bought in M and S. Lorraine and I watched a film about women working in a department store in 1959 in Australia. Nothing much happened, and what did happen was benign, which ticked Lorraine's boxes.
Noticed clumps of these wee white flowers today, which weren't there a couple of days ago in the long grass on the edge of the gold courses.
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