My gripping life
I thought I might update you on my currently scintillating life, folks. It’s been a long time since I blogged, mainly because I didn’t feel I had anything interesting to say. But now I wonder if my silence is quite fair on you.
Take yesterday, for instance. A lot of the morning was taken up with speculation about a metal-grey van, parked in the space outside our house. It snuck in during the minutes taken on the Sunday paper run. I know nothing about cars, so I can’t tell you exactly what type of van it was, only that it was still there, a day later, in what we have come to consider our space.
Maybe he’s left it there and gone on holiday, we panicked. Surely not. Where would he go? But if he did manage to leave the country, it’s quite possible he wouldn’t be allowed back in. Marooned in Portugal, for instance. It could be weeks… These things seem important right now.
Around lunchtime, I had a delivery of an order of vitamins – nothing exciting, of course. These days delivery people like to take a photo of you on the doorstep, so I try to look my best, you never know where these images will end up. So I brushed my faded, shire-horse hair, slicked on a bit of lip balm and wore a winning smile. The fellow didn’t seem to notice, but at least I felt I’d made the effort. It’s so easy to let standards slip, don’t you think?
Later in the day, there was a roadblock on the way to the supermarket. Well, not exactly a road block – that might have been a moment to stir the blood, like the escape of a dangerous axe murderer – more a road closed. Potholes? Cable-laying? Resurfacing? Food for discussion at least. Plus, we were diverted along a route we almost never use. It was positively enlivening, having to join the main road from a different spot.
The highlight of the day, however, came in the form of takeaway lattes and a blueberry/lemon drizzle slice (shared), from a wooden shack in the Waitrose car park. The day was dank and it was chucking down with rain – as usual – so we consumed it in the car, heater on, staring through the rain-spattered windscreen at a hedge. Huge fun.
I contemplated telling you about the swans wintering on the harbour, the seagulls or the ring-necked doves in our garden, but that really would be extremely dull. They don’t do a lot, just sort of regular bird stuff: eat, sleep, argue. Touch of the same old, same old routine, day in, day out… But hang on a minute, doesn’t that sound uncomfortably familiar? Goodness, I hope I haven’t bored you. I know you’re dying to know if the metal-grey van driver made it back from Portugal. I think he must have, because the van has gone.