The oldies hour

Just to show that there are other deaths unrelated to the plague…Kenny Rogers died today aged 81. Cause of death has not been announced but it would appear it was not the virus. Perhaps it was too many weddings. He was married five times.

But, back in the plague drenched world of Covud-19, we went to the garden centre this afternoon. Probably not a good idea but we were very careful. There were quite a few people around but we managed to be socially distanced from them.

I noted one family group (mum, dad, two kids) where the father was carrying the youngest around. He had a bit of a cough on her head at one stage. He also touched a lot of plants. I managed to avoid him, his family and the plants.

Interesting to note there has obviously been a bit of panic buying in the veg seedlings area.

They might be optimistic about having any customers midweek. Still, whoever cleared this lot out is obviously in for the long haul. Mind you, it’s a bit more useful than toilet rolls.

And along the lines of panic buying, our Waitrose has decreed that the first hour of shopping will be reserved for the over 65’s. I have to admit that it felt a bit like the most vulnerable all together in order to isolate the least vulnerable but, hey, I wasn’t arguing when I was waved through.

The mood outside the doors was flickering on the edge of annoyance. I guess turning up at opening time only to discover that you’re going to have to hang around for an hour, clutching your trolley, isn’t going to make anyone’s day. And, by the time I left with my normal day’s shopping, the mood was starting to feel somewhat less than civilised.

I did laugh when my beer was age checked by one of the older staff. Considering the age restrictions in place, it would be fairly obvious that everyone shopping at the time was well over the legal drinking age. Still, rules is rules.

Mirinda had a couple of Skype sessions back at home. Fi was feeling a bit stressed and anxious (she is a nurse after all) and Sophie fancied a chat over a coffee. I pottered happily away in the kitchen.

For lunch I knocked up a frittata with stuff I had in the fridge. It was proclaimed delicious.

I had a WhatsApp chat with Tracey and all is well in Coffs though she’s worried because she works in Aged Care. And Bob is on the cusp of deciding to move to Queensland for the duration. We both think this is an excellent idea.

The weather was lovely today though the wind was chilly. And, late on, I realised I’d almost missed the crossover from winter to spring.

Trundling to Waitrose

For some reason, it was decided that the government press conference, a time for them to let everyone know what’s happening, was to be moved from 5pm to the early afternoon. This meant that when I turned the BBC 24 hour news on, I was confronted with Donald Trump droning on about…well, who knows. It was all a bit too droney to be listened to and remaining awake.

How does a government expect to fill the population with confidence when it just changes things like this? Also, how on earth are we supposed to follow any sort of guidance when we don’t know when to watch?

While some aspects are clearly annoying, the press conferences have at least filled us in on what’s happening at the top of the tree. Now we will return to ignorance. Of course, Boris Johnson doesn’t work on weekends so he didn’t turn up anyway. But surely that’s all the more reason top watch.

Away from Coronavirus, I see that Boris Johnson’s father Stanley has applied for French citizenship. That’s no big thing except when you realise what a vociferous advocate for Brexit he has been.

Sometimes the hypocrites really piss me off.

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