The night shift went well; even allowing for a minor contretemps involving the Kidd blood group system.
As I drove home the pundits on the radio were talking about the government’s latest plans for the re-opening of schools next week. Teachers are rather miffed that the edicts were only issued yesterday, and seem to have been made up as the government has gone along. They wheeled on one of the government’s advisors who all but admitted that they were making things up as they went along. I suppose that the government and all the advisors are doing their best; we’ve never had a pandemic quite like this one before. Interestingly not one of the people criticising the government’s plans actually had a plan of their own.
I came home and went to bed where I dozed fitfully until mid day. I made myself a cuppa, scoffed the pains au choclat I’d got for my brekkie, set the washing machine going and headed off into the garden. Pausing only briefly to hang washing out I got on with that fence. I got seven panels done by the time "er indoors TM" returned from helping "Daddy’s Little Angel TM" in Margate. Just as she got home so "Daddy’s Little Angel TM" sent the message that she’d left her keys in Margate.
Oh how we laughed.
By the time we’d got to Margate, collected the keys, loaded up the car with her luggage, delivered her keys to her in Folkestone and got home again it was gone nine o’clock.
I really ache now. How can painting seven fence panels hurt so much?
No comments:
Post a Comment