I see on Social Media various people claiming that they are bored, or advocating snake oil solutions for boredom. Me, I’m knackered ! We have got off an order to the ever excellent Mitchells of Castle Douglas who supply us with our vegetable and dairy needs, and today we had another tussle with Tesco – who, to give them credit have upped their game considerably since this crisis began. We made big amendments to our next order the date for which when obtained seemed so far off into the future as to be unimaginable, and we were able to set up another order for later in the month. So, well done Tesco !
However, the technicalities of the Tesco operation are not apparent in our living room where yours truly taps and clicks and searches and pushes sliders up an down the side of the screen and my companion says “why not” and ” have you done that yet” and “what I want now”, as I look at slowly rotating symbols as my clicks and bangs pass through undersea cables and over mountain ranges to get to Tesco’s secret control room and the internet comes back from its morning break. Never were the words, “Look up ‘Fruit Loaf’ ” so capable of raising blood pressure and provoking TIA’s. But, somehow, with tears shed and carpets chewed the job gets done and we sign off – only to remember that we haven’t checked out – calamity ! – log back in and retrieve the damage – and when we look at the grand total in the accounts column “damage” is the right word ! But, actually, when you realise that you are trying to do what would, in normal times, be two or three shop visits all in one go for one home delivery, at some future point at which you are trying to guess what you will have eaten and what will have left over.
Yesterday, 30 April, marked ten weeks since we last had our hair cut. In the mirror I begin to look as my Father would have said, “Like a Violinist” – which was a bit hard on such skilled people. Here in this selfie it is not quite so apparent, but can nevertheless be seen creeping like ivy over the ears. Perhaps that is a fair analogy, as ivy creeps over old buildings, so hair creeps over old gents sitting in arm chairs.
“I can’t see Mr. Smith, Matron”.
“Neither can I Nurse – but that’s him over there entangled with the tobacco plant. Go and see if you can get him out, and ask him if he wants any tea ?”