Tuesday 18th August 2020 Day 147
5.35 I heard it raining not long ago, sounded like proper rain too. I turn the radio on but not to the next Katherine Mansfield story today, instead, some Classic FM which sends me straight off to sleep again apparently, because next time I look at the clock it says six fifty-five. I can only just make out the face of the clock from my bed because it is over the other side of the room so I can’t hear it’s infernal ticking. I have a friend who seems to have ticking clocks all over her house and an inherited grandmother clock which would compete with Big Ben, chiming every quarter of an hour as well as the hours. It would drive me bonkers and I would probably never sleep at all!
8.15 A quick check of the fish who seem a little less oxygen starved this morning, no doubt because of the rain fall, although the duck weed seems to have gone barmy again and tonight, I will collect some up for Debbie’s ducklings after whom it was named! Come to think of it ‘Debbie’s Ducklings’ would make an excellent title for a children’s book…..looks like I’m going to have one of those days of going off on a tangent every five minutes. Could be to do with the fact that this week I have put myself back into self isolation, I am going to help a friend move at the weekend so it seemed like the best thing to do.
Actually going into self isolation isn’t really a problem now, after all, most of us are still being careful and I still haven’t set foot in a supermarket. It’s funny because at the beginning of this extraordinary time, I seem to remember that practically all contact was either over zoom or the like, or phone videos. Perhaps we were all scared we would forget what each other looked like! Now it seems to have reverted to phone calls again.
10.00 The zoom slimming group but with a difference this week, apart from the fact that it is now on a Tuesday, there is only Janet, Sarah and me with our group leader on zoom. Everyone else has opted to go back to the meetings in the hall which have started again this week with a military type organisation. It’s follow the arrows, pay your money, weigh but no more taking off shoes, grab some low fat biscuits and out the back door. At least on zoom and now there are only four of us, we can do what women do best, chat.
13.00 I return to the fitting of the new letter box. With a bit of brute help, it fits into the hole now which would be great if only the flap would open to receive letters. More chiselling, jig sawing, drilling and swearing, especially when I tapped my thumb instead of the top of the chisel. The hole receiving the box now looks as if it has been feasted on by a hungry shoal of piranhas and the flap opens threequarters of the way in, that’ll do for me. At last it is finished, bolted in and I look at it with satisfaction whilst wondering if my large tube of wood filler is going to be enough to repair the splintered wood. I shut the front door and approach with a piece of paper (childish I know) to put through the letter box………..and discover that the flap will not open !!***?!@***