End Of The Month (but not the isolation)

One more mention for the whole Co-of-the-Vid thing and then I'll focus on last night's 49ers - Rams game.
I have to say I'm sick of being stuck indoors now. I feel much better and I'm ready to get back into the world, but of course I'm not allowed to. I did my 'Day 6' lateral flow test yesterday, just on the off-chance that it would be a clear negative and I might be able to get out early, but the bloody 'T' line was bolder than the 'C' line, so that's me stuck in for the full 10 days.

I'm pleased to report that I didn't cause a tsunami of cases around me, despite having been very active and out-and-about when I was first infectious. Philippa (with her vast medical knowledge gained from working as a GP's receptionist) says it probably means I had the good old traditional Delta variant, rather than the more trendy Omicron one. That explains (she explains) why my symptoms were quite nasty but why I didn't pass it on too much. If I had the 'O rather than the 'D' I would have just been a bit sniffly, but would have caused a bit of an outbreak. There's no point speculating, but my speculation is that everyone around me had already had it, or that maybe their vaccine reaction was better than mine, and that's why I was clobbered and they weren't. 

I'm still not 100% sure where I got it. There's no point speculating, but my speculation would be that I caught it from the annoying couple from Liverpool who sat uncomfortably close to me and Philippa in the Hotel sauna last Friday. But maybe I'm just saying that because I've never really liked Scousers. No offence to them, there's just something about that accent that grates on my nerves like parmesan grates onto lasagne. 

Anyway - Sport. I am very disappointed that Nadal won the Australian Open, so much so that I am going to forego any further mention of his achievement and move swiftly onto the NFL. Again, this was very disappointing, but also quite inevitable. The 49ers reaching the Championship game was great fun, and quite a surprise, but it happened due to opposition teams making lots of mistakes and repeatedly shooting themselves in the foot. Now, it's credit to Kyle Shanahan and the rest of our coaching team that they befuddle opponents so much that they make these mistakes, but you can't keep relying on other people's errors to carry you through - you have to sometimes take control of your destiny yourself, and unfortunately our dear Quarterback just hasn't been able to do that. It's a cliche to say we got this far DESPITE Jimmy Garoppolo, rather than BECAUSE of him, but it is true. All through last night's game, even with a 17-7 lead in the 4th quarter, I kept thinking 'Jimmy is gonna find a way to f**k this up for us'. He'd already had 3 or 4 near misses that could have torpedoed the game for us, it was just a matter of time before one went awry enough to be picked off. And lo, it came to pass.

But a good season, all round, and if we can sort out our terrible salary cap situation, we could well be challenging again next season.

See you in September, San Francisco.

And see you in February, readers.

For F's sake, change the S

Right, I've decided - no more talk about my ongoing issue with Covid. It's boring, it's repetitive, it's whingy, it's whiney and it's not making me feel any different anyway, so why bore you with it in this blogsphere?

Instead - I present some 10-Word Reviews of Movies I Have Watched In Isolation:

 

CAUSALITY - Argentinian thriller. Shot in one continuous take. Tense. Clever. Impressive.

STANDING UP, FALLING DOWN - Proper story. Proper characters. Proper acting. Proper dialogue. Proper film.

ETERNALS - Far, far too long. British actors all bland and unengaging.

SIGNS - Gave this another watch and very glad that I did.

AFTER.LIFE - Storyline exists to keep Christina Ricci naked for two hours.

UNDERWATER - A badly made mixture of Alien, The Abyss and Jaws.

SMALL APARTMENTS - Matt Lucas in a quirky, cameo-filled, silly American crime caper.

RC 29-1-22

Rory's COVIDventure, Part 3

Today I feel utterly exhausted, and my nose is pouring with snot. This virus really does throw everything at you and affect every part of your body. It wouldn't surprise me at all if I ended up with period pains.

RC 28-1-22

Rory's COVIDventure, Part 2

Today I have felt more human again. A bit of a sore throat and a horrible breathiness, but apart from that I don't feel too far off normal, I am pleased to report. It's been a really strange week, and a really strange illness. I probably don't have to say too much more about it because I've done it to death a bit over the past few days, and because I was rather late to the 'Rona party anyway, so most of you have already been through it and don't need me to tell you what it's like.

I would like to apologise, though, in case my postings in the past few days have been weird, disjointed and/or indecipherable. My brain really has not been working properly. Maybe it's something to do with not breathing properly - the oxygen isn't making it to my head-organ. It's fine if I keep still. In fact, everything feels great if I keep still, but walking to the loo and back seems to bugger me completely and my head spins and then I can't think straight. 

Anyway, let's not go on about it.

I do have to say, though, that one of the hardest parts of all this was dealing with the bloody NHS bloody Test and bloody Trace stuff. I did 'the right thing' and let them know straight away, and within minutes the onslaught of texts and e-mails began, and continued ad infinitum all day. I understand the urgency of needing to know where I may have caught it and who I may have passed it to, but when you're in the throes of the bloody thing and also dealing with the psychological aspects of testing positive, it's a bloody nightmare to have to fill in the online information questionnaire. My temperature was 38 degrees and everything was aching like a bastard, how was I supposed to remember every shop I'd been in in the past seven days?

Anyway - as I said - let's not keep going on about it.

RC 27-1-22

Birthday Celebration Review

I had a two-hour afternoon power nap and then some food and it's done me the world of good! Temperature has dropped, the headache has all but gone, and that weird fogginess around my brain seems to have lifted somewhat too!
So, I feel well enough to finally tell you about the NICE part of the past 7 days or so!
We had a lovely afternoon mini-party at work on Wednesday (can't believe that was a week ago now!). Gavin gave me a £50 'birthday meal bonus' so I could take Philippa out sometime. A lovely gesture, and apparently it's an annual thing for everyone on their birthday, so it must cost him a few quid over the course of a year. I also got some lovely cards from my colleagues and a really decent bottle of wine. (Worth pointing out at this point that the most I ever got from my previous employer was an e-mail that was automatically generated by the computer at Head Office based on the information in my Employee File). 

On Thursday Philippa and I had a nice walk on the beach, followed by my ill-advised, pre-planned North Sea Plunge. I'm glad I saw it through, but the least said about the temperature of the water and its effects on my body, the better. Let's just say that when the Covid started kicking in at the weekend I just assumed I'd frozen my innards on Thursday to such an extent that my body was starting to shut down in response to the internal damage.   

Friday brought about a very relaxing time at a nice hotel with Philippa. We ate, we drank, we spa'd (if that's the right phrase) and we enjoyed the comforts of a very impressive and very ornate four-poster bed. I have no idea why sleep is improved by virtue of having every corner of your mattress resting against an upwards-pointing wooden pillar, but it is. Maybe it makes us feel regal, or reminds us of old pictures from history lessons in which important people were always enclosed behind curtains while they slept, or both. Anyway, I awoke on Saturday feeling remarkably refreshed and full of good health. Little did I know.....

The afternoon was spent with a combination of first Philippa's parents, and then Hannah and Nathan. We binned the cinema idea in the end (ironically enough, because none of us felt completely comfortable with being stuck in an enclosed space on a busy weekend with Covid numbers being what they are!) so we met for a walk and a play at a park with Mathew instead, and then they came back to ours for an evening takeaway. Indian, at my request.

And the real Birthday Bonus was that I had made a mistake when I looked at the NFL fixtures last week, and the 49ers play-off game was at 1.15am Sunday morning, not Monday morning, so I could sit up and watch it without worrying about being over-tired at work. Not that it would have mattered, because I ended up staying at home Monday anyway, but it cheered me up to know that I was free to watch my team without feeling unprofessional, and they WON again, which tied a nice bow onto the whole Rory 38th Birthday Experience...

And then I woke up hours later with a burning throat and sore chest, but you know about that already.

RC 26-1-22

2045 GMT

Rory's COVIDventure, Part 1

So it unfolded like this:

I felt a bit light-headed on Saturday afternoon, but put it down to over-relaxation brought about by the lovely Hotel stay that Philippa and I enjoyed the night before. (of which more details will be shared later). Sunday I woke up with a burning throat and a sore chest, and as the day wore on I felt rougher and rougher and developed a pounding headache. It didn't feel too dissimilar to one of the many colds I had in Autumn so I took some paracetamol and went to bed early, hoping to shake it off overnight. I then woke up regularly, feeling like my head and chest were wrapped in burning blankets and with every joint in my body aching like I'd been taken apart by a 6-year-old with a Meccano spanner. Yesterday morning I felt awful, and a bit spaced out, so Philippa arranged for me to get tested and lo and behold I am a victim of The 'Vid.  

We instantly went into 'Protection Protocol' so I got shifted off to the bedroom, banned from emerging unless my wife and son are out of the way or wrapped in clingfilm, and left to sweat it out alone.

I must admit to the fact that I am not dealing with this particularly well. There's a strange psychological thing happening that I'm not familiar with. Maybe it's the reality of catching something that has been an almost mythical beast in my psyche for two years. Part of me is expecting to end up on a ventilator, part of me is relieved to have got it, so I don't have to worry about catching it anymore. And I know how crazy that probably sounds, but I do feel a bit crazy, I admit. My brain doesn't seem to be working properly. Plus, this bloody thing keeps seeming to shift its method of attack, so I'm not able to just relax and recover because my symptoms keep changing and surprising me.

Last night I thought I was going to be sick. For about six hours. But nothing happened. Then, the next thing I knew, it was 11.30am and I was lying in bed, shivering and completely confused.

And despite all that sleep, I think I'm ready for a nap now.

RC 26-1-22

38 is Great!

I thoroughly intend to fill you in on all the fun celebrations I had at the weekend, but in a cruel twist of fate, I have been given Covid as a late birthday present, and despite being fully vaccinated and boosted I am feeling pretty rough with it, so I shall save all the details for when I am feeling better.

But yes! After keeping (to the best of my knowledge) away from it for two years, (despite working face-to-face with the public during all the lockdowns) I have finally, officially succumbed to The Pesky Virus, and it is, to say the least, a pisser.

RC 25-1-22

Shrunken nuts

Remember when I first mentioned diving in the sea on my birthday?

And how I said “It will either be the worst idea ever, or a life-enhancing experience?”

Having done it, I can now confirm my conclusions.

It was the worst idea ever.

RC 21-1-22

Birthday Eve!!

And suddenly, in a blink and a heartbeat, it is the day before my birthday.

I'm really not sure how this has happened so fast. What exactly has happened to the first three weeks in January? Maybe the fact that last year was an absolute horror show of lockdowns and angry supermarket customers has put me in a weird, Twilight Zone-esque mindset where there's nothing from last year to compare this month to and it feels like a month that we've never had before. It's also the first January that I've worked in this job, of course, so that may be adding to the General Weirdness and Middle-Aged Confusion. Plus, it's been unseasonably warm and sunny. I'm not complaining about that for one second, but it does throw you a bit mentally when it feels like Spring outside but we're still in the depths of Winter. We're having huge, deep, beautiful frosts but then bright, sun-filled, mild days. No wonder my head doesn't know where my arse is, and vice versa.

RC 19-1-22

On a bright and beautiful morning, I type...

Another week, another struggle of a Monday where I was over-tired due to late-night Sunday NFL viewing, and ended up drinking too much coffee.

So yesterday was a bit of a wash-out and I didn't get round to blogging. Not that there was much to talk about anyway - just a nice, simple, uneventful day of work and then an evening of cooking tea, eating tea, and doing lots of reading to Mathew before bathing him. Sophie bought him a nice little collection of Postman Pat books for Christmas and he absolutely loves them. They're only 10 pages each, and they have a very basic story alongside pictures from the TV show, but he's lapping them up and we read the whole collection at least twice every day. Basically, by now I could recite all 10 stories word for word from memory and could probably draw exact copies of all the pictures, despite having no artistic talent whatsoever.

 

I'll do a quick 49ers-Cowboys game review, just in case any fellow fans sat up as I did to watch the game on Sunday-into-Monday. I didn't enjoy it, quite frankly. After last weeks joyous comeback win in an entertaining match-up, this was a laborious just-get-a-win affair full of silly mistakes and stupid penalties. The last 40 seconds of game time took about 25 minutes in real life and most of that was reviews. American sports have been very clever at adapting their rules to make for entertaining finishes and therefore better broadcasts, but at times it makes it disappointingly unwatchable. Having a play clock that can be stopped by choice or under a large variety of circumstances means that teams always have a chance, even in games where they are several points behind with not long left to play, but it's open to such manipulation from coaches and players that the game can grind to a halt. It also means the last few minutes of a big occasion like this can become about clock-based controversies, ambiguous rules (and individual interpretations of them) and 'can we still win or not?' confusions.

So I didn't enjoy the experience, even though my team won. And now I have to make a tough decision, because our match next week will kick off at 1.15am! Which means I either support my team in possibly their last game until September and end up a frazzled mess all day Monday, or act professionally by going to bed as normal and just read the result when I get up. That's fine if it's a simple game with a clear result, but would be annoying if I missed out on a classic encounter, like last week's game against the Rams. 

It's hard. My insomnia has been kept under control for quite a while now, I'd hate to give it a wake-up prod by deliberately messing up my sleep pattern again. On the other hand, my team have a chance to chase their first Super Bowl win in over 25 years and I'd like to be along for the journey. 

RC 18-1-22

Sorted

So the Birthday Plan is pretty much formulated:
Thursday and Friday booked off as holiday.

Some Wednesday afternoon cakes and drinks at work (paid for by me).

A leisurely walk then THE PLUNGE on the day itself.

Friday staying at a nice Hotel – with full use of spa facilities (including massage) while Mathew enjoys a night away with grandparents.

Saturday lunchtime cinema visit, with Hannah and Nathan, who will then come back to ours for a nice takeaway.

Sunday at Ted and Beryl’s, who have promised me visits from several members of their family, and a Christmas Day-style birthday spread.

And a visit from Sister Sophie sometime the week after (dependent on her work schedule).

That’ll do, pig, that’ll do.

RC 16-1-22

Like a drawn-out, lazy suicide attempt

I think I have decided what I will be doing to commemorate my birthday this year. I’m not talking about how I will celebrate, I’m talking about doing something specific that I’ve never done before that will make this particular birthday memorable and will be something I can always look back on in years to come.

I’ve been reading so much about winter open-water swimming that I think I might give it a go. Now I’m not gonna go mad and swim the length of the Suffolk coastline in some skimpy Speedos, and I’m not going to commit to making this a weekly or daily life-enhancing habit, but I am going to plunge into the sea on the afternoon of my birthday, just to see what it’s like, and just to say I have done it.

I shall be armed with large towels, a very warm dressing gown and a flask of hot coffee, I shall change back into warm things as quickly as is humanly possible, and then I shall enjoy an indulgent meal of some kind with my wife (possibly even fish and chips while still at the beach). The weekend will be the time for proper drinks and movies and snacks and family and friends, but the birthday itself, I have decided, will be about ‘The Plunge’.

It will either be the worst decision ever or a life-changing experience, I can’t see anything in between… 

RC 14-1-22

7 x 24 til 38 (a Crapoem)

An icy start.
A nice bright day.
A week from now it’s my birthday!

Another year.
A ticking clock.
Approaching 40 is a shock.

An unknown gift.
An unplanned spell.
Assured that it will all go well.

RC 13-1-22

Imminent 38

A week today will be my Birthday Eve! I really should start planning how to celebrate, and think about what I might like as a pressie. Philippa hasn’t asked yet, which probably means she has taken a chance and picked me something that she thinks I will like. Which is a worry, as she is notoriously bad at working out what I might like. What’s potentially worse is that she may have decided to get me something that she thinks I need, which means my present will be something like a tool that I’ll never use or something that she wants for the house disguised as something she ‘thought you’d enjoy’. Now I understand why people give each other Christmas lists.

Anyway, the important thing is that I find a way to enjoy a whole week of festivities, using my birthday as a centre date and a justifiable excuse. I think a cinema trip is an absolute definite. I think a nice meal out, or even a hotel stay, with my wife would be a delight, as we don’t get to do that these days (other parents will sympathise) and there are plenty of willing relatives who will take on babysitting duties. In fact, I might try and do ANYTHING AND EVERYTHING that I wasn’t able to do for my birthday last year, due to the lovely lockdown, even things that I wouldn’t have been interested in doing even if I was allowed to. So that’s scuba diving, street parties, close contacts, hugging, indoor mixing, a swimming pool and the theatre on the list for starters. A trip abroad, a day at a gym and maybe a driving lesson. I might even pop into a school unmasked, if that wouldn’t get me arrested.

God, don’t I go off in weird directions at times??? Maybe planning these blogs in advance and then reading and editing as I go would be a good idea after all. Nah, sod it, I’ve been at this for 15 years now, it’s too late to learn new habits!

RC 12-1-21

Can't wait for the weekend

How did I manage to post a blog yesterday without once mentioning the NFL extravaganza from the night before?
Apologies again for the Jimmy Saville reference. I blame lack of sleep and far too many peanuts.
I shan’t go on too much, for fear of boring those of you who have no interest in gridiron matters, but WHAT AN END TO THE SEASON!! Three crucial games all went into overtime, including the one involving my beloved 49ers. I must confess that at several times during the first half I considered giving up my fandom forever and going to bed – that’s how bad they were. But I’m so glad I didn’t, as what transpired after that was a perfect example of why I love and hate the sport in equal measures. It nearly killed me, but I’m so glad I went through it. Fighting back from a 17-point deficit, then throwing a way a chance to score a winning touchdown, then allowing your opponent to score against you, then somehow finding a way to tie things up with only a few seconds left on the game clock.
Even at that point I thought they would throw it away. I thought the step into overtime was merely a delay to the ultimate pain of defeat; a teasing glimpse of what might have been that was about to be snatched from me in the cruellest way. But no – my team played on with confidence and assurance and managed to get the job done, and get themselves into the play-offs. It was exhausting, it was traumatic, and it led to my weird, tired mood that I carried all day yesterday.
And next week, I get to do it all again! The match is even on at the same time as this weeks, which is useful, because Mathew will be in bed and I can have the living room, sofa and TV to myself. If only I hadn’t quaffed those honey roast peanuts, they’d have been a perfect snack accompaniment.

RC 11-1-22

Good intentions and bad inventions

A third of the first month of the year has gone. We are 10 months away from being 3 weeks away from Advent. (Leave me alone – I am missing Christmas and wishing we could get it back again sooner!).

I tried again to have a day of healthy eating, then at 6.15pm I realised that the honey roast peanuts we had left over from Christmas have a ‘Use By’ date ending Jan 2022. They were completely unopened and haven’t been in direct sunlight and they’re still in date for 2 more weeks, but somehow that gave me the excuse I needed to open them and start enjoying them. I’ve been picking away at them all evening, as if they MUST be finished by midnight tonight or will spoil and go to waste. Even as I’m typing this, and berating myself for my weakness and my gluttony, I am still eating them from a bowl beside my computer. I am terrible.

I have a spider plant in my office at work and it is looking a little unwell. I think it has outgrown the pot. I think this is a scam run by garden centres to keep you going back constantly – “Oh, we’ll sell you a plant that will live for years; but you’ll have to pop back and see us for a bigger pot every few months as it will keep growing and outgrow the one we’ve given you. And by the way, each pot will cost you more than the plant did when you originally purchased it”. (cue evil laugh) Why hasn’t someone invented a plant pot that is able to naturally expand itself as the plant within it grows into adulthood? How has this not been done yet? We’ve walked on the moon, and it is possible to add a snarky comment to a YouTube video within seconds of it being uploaded without even bothering to take the time to watch it, how do we not have self-expanding plant pots? If I was an inventor, I’d be onto this like Jimmy Saville onto a children’s ward.
God that’s a terribly out-of-date reference, and in terribly bad taste. Forgive me… But GET INVENTING and give me credit for the idea when you sell it for a fortune.

RC 10-1-22

Win and In

I’m just about to settle down to watch the 49ers live on Sky Sports, in their final regular season match of the year, against division rivals the Los Angeles Rams. For those of you not paying attention to the NFL, if San Francisco win tonight, they make it into the play-offs; lose, and it’s all done and dusted until September 2022. I’m pleased to say I’m excited rather than nervous. That’s not because I am feeling confident, more a reflection on the fact that I gave up all hope of a post-season run back in November, so simply being in a position where we might still qualify is exciting in itself. The big battle really is going to be between me and my appetite. Or more accurately, between me and my compulsion to eat shitty food while watching the game. There is no snack on Earth that genuinely enhances the experience of watching sports, but that doesn’t prevent me from believing that any-and-every viewing opportunity is rendered multiple times better by virtue of having food involved. The fact that I haven’t yet discovered the perfect accompaniment to an American Football game is not a failure, I believe, merely inspiration to try harder. But only yesterday I was complaining about my recent intake of unhealthy food and the resulting impact on my waistline and my mental wellbeing. So it’s hard to give you odds on what might happen tonight. It could be that my eyes remain glued to the screen and my teeth remain unused, but it’s equally as likely that my hands will go between a plate and my mouth as often as a point-after-touchdown attempt goes between the uprights. I’d like to say I shall eat a good tea tonight and then have nothing else until breakfast tomorrow, but I don’t want to make a promise I can’t keep and I don’t want to get into the habit of lying to you. Anyway – time to dust off my vintage Steve Young no.8 jersey and try to look like a real fan….

RC 9-1-22

musings on my current dietary choices

This is the first day in about three weeks that I haven’t devoured ridiculous amounts of cheese! We all went a bit mad with how much fun food we bought for the Christmas break, so there were plenty of leftovers to share out, and somehow Philippa and I ended up bringing home more cheese than we had taken to the cottage in the first place. Not sure how that happened, but I’ve certainly been enjoying it ever since.
I am feeling rather unfit and unhealthy. I am fond of food, as you know, but I do try and eat ‘properly’ most of the time. In mid-December though, all regular rules go out of the window and I don’t hesitate when it comes to enjoying myself with the mince pies, shortbread, peanuts, cashews, chocolates, Xmas puddings and Heroes (to name but a few). I didn’t really feel the effects much at first (save for aching teeth and a quicker heartrate) but after two weeks of this culinary onslaught I am starting to notice a difference. Stairs are a killer, playing with Mathew leaves me panting for breath and my tighter clothing seems to be almost unwearable.
I’m sure I’ll turn the corner soon. I’ve managed to go right through today without any cheese, for a start. Admittedly, that’s only because its all run out, but it’s still a step in the right direction. It’s too wet and too cold to take my bike out, though, and it’s less than two weeks til my birthday, anyway, so what’s the point of slowing down now, only to ramp up my sugary intake again for the 20^th?
I’ll aim to get fitter in February, and in the meantime – it’s back to the Turkey & Stuffing Pringles.

RC 8-1-22

Trysts

I’ve been watching quite a few movies over Christmas and New Year, and I’m determined to keep that going during January. I enjoyed “Mary, Queen of Scots” and that has sent me on a little Saoirse Ronan watch-a-thon because I think she’s a great actress and she’s made more films than I’d realised.
Tonight, I gave “Ammonite” a go, which stars Miss Ronan alongside the ever-watchable Kate Winslet. It started out being about 19^th Century female fossil hunters but then rapidly became about female lust and lesbianism. And now I’ve watched it, all manner of similar themed ‘gems’ have started showing up in my ‘recommended viewing’ section. My God, there are a lot of them. Just about every actress you can name seems to have been in a ‘two strong women thrown together by circumstance ultimately end up in bed together despite the problems it will undoubtedly cause both of them’ art flick. If you watched all these films you’d get the impression that it’s impossible for two women to be within ten feet of each other without ending up touching each other’s netherparts. I’m sure there are a certain group of people who are delighted to see so many of these similar movies on their chosen streaming platform, but I think I’ll pass over them all and watch “Some Like It Hot” instead. One of the best comedies ever, and currently available on iPlayer.

RC 7-1-22

Windows '21

Just for the purposes of being thorough, and tying a nice big bow on my blog efforts during 2021, let me fill you in on the advent calendar pictures that I didn’t share with you during December:
Santa’s face
Jesus in a manger
Christmas pudding
A present
Some mistletoe
I think they’re the only ones I didn’t tell you about.
I’m missing Christmas already, but at least it’s only another 10 months until we can start getting excited about it again!

RC 4-1-21

Hopes, Dopes and Ropes

Welcome to another year, then. May I wish you a happy and healthy 2022, blah, blah, blah, balderdash and bollocks, its only another day etc etc etc.
Seriously though, I hope you achieve all you want to, if you are the sort of person who aims to achieve certain things, and the most important thing to achieve, of course, is your continued support and readerment of this blogsite.

I popped into work today, for the first time in what feels like ages. There were a few things to do, one of which was to block off the main children’s play area. It’s flooded, and not draining away for some reason. It’s not bad enough to haul the maintenance guys in off their extended Christmas break, but it doesn’t look safe enough to use, and we do still have people using it occasionally (what with people still being on site, and some of them having young relatives visiting, and the temperature being so unseasonably warm outside) so I’ve had to block it off in a very professional manner by stretching a spare bit of blue nautical rope between the apparatus and hanging a laminated ‘Do Not Use’ sign from it.
I am nothing if not resourceful.
God, I butchered the English language in this paragraph more than I butchered the playground job earlier.

In other news, it stuns me that people still aren’t getting the hang of Covid 2 years after it was identified. I picked up some bits of top-up shopping this morning and was surrounded by people – mostly OLD people – not wearing masks, not worrying about keeping their distance, and fingering as much of the loose fruit and vegetables as it was possible to finger before finally deciding which bits to buy. Still – its not like we’re getting about 200,000 verified new cases a day and need to be careful, is it? If it was left up to me, anyone unvaccinated and/or not following the scientific guidance should be forced to wear a full-body biohazard suit or forced to live on an island.

Two days into the New Year and I’ve invented a word already! For the creation of ‘readerment’ I award myself 16 points and a large chunk of shortbread.

RC 2-1-22