It’s getting real

This weekend we were due to have a rather splendid meal at the Dirty Duck with friends; 5 adults, 4 kids, we had booked a generic Italian restaurant for the kids, they like that sort of stuff, its standard and they all have their favourites, and by sending them off to another establishment entirely it gave us the freedom to have a meal with our mates, something we were vehement in doing. We hadnt seen eachother for fucking months because we’ve all fallen down the C-hole and find ourselves with precious little to look forward to. 6ix months selective isolation in the summer is all fine and dandy but the winter is coming and I’ll tell you now, I’m not really too excited by it. In a massive kick in the teeth (substitute any bodily parts here) our friends from Chorley Wood, whom we were very excited to see this saturday found themselves harbouring a covid carrier, for a short time just yesterday, no one knew, the test came back positive and so now self isolation is the only thing they can do. 

Gutted but we’re going to Zoom on Saturday night, which is fine, but I wonder how easy it is going to be to ease our way back into family confinement again, but this time without the benefit of being able to sit outside in the sunshine, pubs are closing early, but not too early to expect the virus to soar, Chorley Wood, in my friends words, will be taken up like a forest fire. I wonder before long if there will be a public sedition, with people falling at the wayside, struggling for breath as they try to drink Britain back to health again, but earlier in the day and without the benefit of a late night disco or indeed any post boozer house parties to attend. 

We lit a fire tonight, it was cold, and we’ve got the sniffles, a cold not Covid, best get some logs in or sell our house sharpish so we can pad around the heated floor times in bare feet in our new build. 


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