I got to the shop at just before eight and was let straight in. Apart from hand gel and flour, the shelves were well stocked and I got everything on my list. It was a double shop, some for me and some for Beth, so when I got home I wiped everything over (I'm looking forward to not having to do that any more) before contacting Beth via Facebook to check that coming over at twelvre would be OK.
To my dismay, all I got of Facebook was as blank screen. Eeeek. Ditto with the laptop. However, the mobile got me in fine, but on 4G not my home connection. From that, I concluded that the problem could very well be with Virgin rather than my account or PC.
Sure enough, ten minutes later it was all up and running again.
Beth had had the same problem.
Talking of Beth, after the clap on Thursday, she wrote the below which I thought so good, I'm reproducing it here. She has a way with words, does my daughter. Please bleep over the occasional 'naughty' vocabulary.
'The Clap' down our street tonight was terribly terribly British. So terribly British I really felt quite patriotic.
So here is Beth's guide to the clap.
Note- I live in an urban, established area in Essex. Regional variations may apply.
1) Open door quarter way, poke out hand and check for rain. If reasonably dry, venture out. If wet, stay in with door quarter open. You don't want to dissolve. If in doubt, go out, but look dubiously at the sky every few seconds.
2) Have a furtive look up and down the street. Only proceed if others are also out. If in doubt you can pretend to be studying your chrysanthemums until others appear. Bonus points if you can get in a surprised 'oh, hel-LO!' to the neighbour who has done the clap every sodding week , like you have, and whose presence is about as surprising as the weather.
3) Continue to look a bit sheepish and listen intently for Someone Else to start clapping. Note: DO NOT CLAP UNTIL SOMEONE ELSE DOES. Do not be the person to start. It's just not cricket.
4) Forget that stuff upper lip and clap, cheer, bang pots and whoop like your life depends on this wonderful thing we have called the NHS. Because it fucking well does. Rule Britannia!
5) After roughly a minute of revelry, recommence peering up the road. This is the tricky part. You do not wish to be the first to stop clapping, good heavens, man, you must do your duty. But- horrors- you must not be the last to stop.
6) At this point it would be most acceptable to politely enquire as to your neighbour's health, comment on how dreadful the rain was earlier, or other such niceties. You may have to raise your voice a little- 2m away at all times, remember- but not too loudly. Remember you're an Englishman and shouting is vulgar, despite the fact that you made really quite a lot of vulgar noise just a minute ago. In public, no less!
7) Clear throat, take one final sheepish glance about, readjust that stiff upper lip and go inside. Jolly good show!
I had a jolly good chat with her yesterday afternoon. We get going and, ten minutes later, we find three quarters of an hour has passed!
Today, being Sunday (checks to make sure it really is Sunday) is a do as I fancy day so no categories today. In reality, it will be the same as any other day because that's life at the moment.
To my dismay, all I got of Facebook was as blank screen. Eeeek. Ditto with the laptop. However, the mobile got me in fine, but on 4G not my home connection. From that, I concluded that the problem could very well be with Virgin rather than my account or PC.
Sure enough, ten minutes later it was all up and running again.
Beth had had the same problem.
Talking of Beth, after the clap on Thursday, she wrote the below which I thought so good, I'm reproducing it here. She has a way with words, does my daughter. Please bleep over the occasional 'naughty' vocabulary.
'The Clap' down our street tonight was terribly terribly British. So terribly British I really felt quite patriotic.
So here is Beth's guide to the clap.
Note- I live in an urban, established area in Essex. Regional variations may apply.
1) Open door quarter way, poke out hand and check for rain. If reasonably dry, venture out. If wet, stay in with door quarter open. You don't want to dissolve. If in doubt, go out, but look dubiously at the sky every few seconds.
2) Have a furtive look up and down the street. Only proceed if others are also out. If in doubt you can pretend to be studying your chrysanthemums until others appear. Bonus points if you can get in a surprised 'oh, hel-LO!' to the neighbour who has done the clap every sodding week , like you have, and whose presence is about as surprising as the weather.
3) Continue to look a bit sheepish and listen intently for Someone Else to start clapping. Note: DO NOT CLAP UNTIL SOMEONE ELSE DOES. Do not be the person to start. It's just not cricket.
4) Forget that stuff upper lip and clap, cheer, bang pots and whoop like your life depends on this wonderful thing we have called the NHS. Because it fucking well does. Rule Britannia!
5) After roughly a minute of revelry, recommence peering up the road. This is the tricky part. You do not wish to be the first to stop clapping, good heavens, man, you must do your duty. But- horrors- you must not be the last to stop.
6) At this point it would be most acceptable to politely enquire as to your neighbour's health, comment on how dreadful the rain was earlier, or other such niceties. You may have to raise your voice a little- 2m away at all times, remember- but not too loudly. Remember you're an Englishman and shouting is vulgar, despite the fact that you made really quite a lot of vulgar noise just a minute ago. In public, no less!
7) Clear throat, take one final sheepish glance about, readjust that stiff upper lip and go inside. Jolly good show!
I had a jolly good chat with her yesterday afternoon. We get going and, ten minutes later, we find three quarters of an hour has passed!
Today, being Sunday (checks to make sure it really is Sunday) is a do as I fancy day so no categories today. In reality, it will be the same as any other day because that's life at the moment.
It's going to be my first every attempt at pulled pork today. Slow cooker, spicy, aromatic stuff, eight to ten hours. It won't be the authentic, over-the-charcoal-in-the-barbecue-pit affair but it's hard to see how it could go wrong, given tasty ingredients and a reliable slow cooker.
There's two more items to add to Speed Bunny's haul - apple and cabbage. I'm not convinced about the cabbage but I like the apple!Please excuse the photo - the light was bad.
Today might end up seeing a cauliflower and maybe a banana (I know, bananas aren't speed!).
Other things that will probably happen today are a trip to the allotment and I might also use the allotment for a nice walk around. It's quite a big space so should take around twenty minutes and a moderate pace and I can jump the puddles (there will be puddles!). Also gardening, crocheting, finding more patterns, catching up on recorded stuff, menu planning for the week, etc.
And maybe, just maybe, a chat with another friend, who didn't realise you could use Messenger for live chats.
It should be nice today. Have a good 'un too. xx
I'm having a good chuckle at Beth's writing here. X
ReplyDeleteClever, isn't it? I laughed too.
Deletexx
I liked Beth's writing too ... well observed and amusing!
ReplyDeleteIt's cold and has rained here so I hope you have better weather for your allotment walk.
She has a talent for that sort of thing which is lovely.
DeleteIt was OK down the allotment. Damp underfoot but no rain. It was nice to exchange greetings (at a distance) with other holders.
xx