A Chill in the Air

It’s like Paris, innit. Left Bank, obvs. For we were meeting up with R&E in that most delightful of neighbourhoods, yer Comely Bank. Outside coffee - it’s a good idea except for the lack of public loos. 
Much later, a wake online - for old Ernie. Sixteen of us made it along, to swap tales of the old days - not that I knew him more than ten years ago but it was good to get the invite. Hellewell wins the bet - he's the last of the three still with us, Jack and Ernie having departed this year.
And then, still awake, the old lags zoomerette session. With 'Grandad corner' now a regular feature to bore the pants off those without such novel little attractions. Before long we’re back on the covid. News is there’s a relaxing of the restrictions for five days but you’re kind of stuck in a bubble for that entire time. Strictly only one bubble. So if we see the daughter and s-i-l and then go to her sis for dinner, that’s it. The daughter can’t see anyone else - and neither can her sis. I fear our bubbles are all a bit interlinked. Everyone has the same problem. Either people are going to just batten down at Christmas and entirely scrap the get-togethers for this year, or they’re going to slightly bend them, but only slightly. 
As for Hogmanay, that’s out the window.