There is no doubt that it has become very much harder to find useful material for the Daily Blog since we entered Lockdown. I am not asking for sympathy, mind you, just stating facts.
For a start, I am no longer travelling on the Pulse bus, always fertile ground for one prepared to keep her ears open for interesting conversations. Eavesdropping again, did I hear somebody mutter?
There’s no Singing for Pleasure choir on Friday mornings, no Birdy Group on the first Monday of every month, no fortnightly Nomination Whist group, no friendly monthly
Cribbage gathering, no craft sessions with fellow crafters urging me to remember that “less is more.”
Indeed, because we are shielding due to Mr B’s
poor health, I can’t even gather material on a daily trip to the shops. I do still have the benefit of Mr B’s unusual take on life and the grandchildren’s antics, as reported to me from a distance, provide me with a welcome view of
the outside world. It does occur to me, however, that maybe if the Lockdown goes on for much longer I may just have to start making things up. Heaven forefend, did someone say?
I take this disturbing thought out into the garden where I have been planting out broad beans and tomatoes in their Forever Homes. Forever as in, this summer, you understand. Some members of the family have queried why I am growing broad beans and tomatoes
when I don’t like either of them. There are two reasons for this: firstly, Mr B likes both broad beans and tomatoes and will be extremely grateful when I harvest them in a couple of months time. The second, more practical reason is that, being unable
to shop for seeds myself, I have been relying on friends supplying me with extra seeds and plants from their own supplies. I am also growing squash and cucumbers neither of which I have grown before but for which I am indebted to my friend Avril. She leaves
packets of seeds and trays of seedlings on her doorstep for another friend, the Ever Ready to Help Ian, to collect for me. My vegetable trough will get by with a little help from my friends...
As if to reinforce my train of thought, Matt Next Door messages to say he has a couple of hours to spare so would I like him to mow the lawns? He doesn’t mention any concerns about me buying a couple of noisy,
aggressive and fence-demolishing goats - he offers out of the goodness of his heart. He wants me to assure our regular gardener (who, like us, is shielding) that he is not taking his job and that he (Ken the gardener, not Matt Next Door) will be most welcome
back in the flower borders once the Pesky Pestilence has run its course.
I have a long conversation with My Boy on the phone and rashly promise to take all
three boys in turn through some of their school work on Wednesday to ease the pressure on their Work At Home Dad. I am hoping that in the process I might learn something which I can feed back to you because, as you know, I do like the Daily Blog to come over
all educational from time to time. Whether my (Not So Very Little) Welsh Boys will learn anything as a result of my attentions is a moot point - one of their favourite ploys when talking to me over FaceTime is to mute me so that they can’t actually hear
anything I am saying. I only twig what they are up to when I see them convulsed with laughter at the sight of me mouthing away at them like a demented goldfish...
there you are - I started at the top of the page with nothing at all to write about and I have managed 648 words of random ramblings. I tell Mr B, hoping for a congratulatory word. “Just keep wittering on...” he suggests.
And so I shall...