Magnolia
The days roll past, each like the last, the death toll mounts and the national debate around our handling of it all gets endlessly recycled on 24-hour news and Twitter. Stay away. The thief of time.
Lucky then that the daughter popped in after her latest scan. I put out a seat for her, far away beside the shed and we chatted awhile. She’s ready for the wean to pop into being any time now, and hopefully in the next two weeks.
After that, a brief trip over to the boat, taking my exercise and I got one of the pipes through the bulkhead into the fore cabin. It’s going to work. Unsightly pipes misery goodbye, as Private Eye would say. And then some ointment with a fly in it; the obergruppenfuhrer Mainwaring, chaffing away in his five bedroom executive style prison at Eskbank sends out an edict. No maintenance to be carried out on boats in the yard. I send back a 'reply all' arguing the case not to forbid it, but simply to stay within the Government guidelines. No effing chance, one by one the replies come back from the committee. Stay Home. #stayhome
Oh well, on my daily exercise, I’ll no longer be carrying out boat maintenance. Maybe just inspection and investigation… and preparation of course.
And much later, after the virtual tea time pint, a game of Scattegories with H&F over Zoom which works very well indeed - and leaves us both quite sad about the situation and the separation. Maybe not for much longer of course… ahem.
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