Shakespeare and Spuds

Really lovely weather today – sunny with a light breeze, so we mooched over to the farmer’s field again after our walk round the lotties. He’d been planting spuds in the front field; the back field has some sort of cereal crop going on. It’ll be interesting watching it all grow.

Potential Spuds

Seems I’m going to be sitting here talking to myself for months yet – and there was I, foolishly thinking I might be able to go out for lunch next month on my birthday. Fat chance! 

The lugubrious Prof Chris Whitty (Chief Medical Officer) yesterday quashed any idea of normality for the foreseeable, so it looks like I’ll be baking my own birthday cake and blowing out the candles with the grandchildren on Skype. The way things are going we’ll be lucky to get out for the office Christmas party (the “office” staff being us two!)

Well, I’ve dug out a couple of books that I’ve been wanting to re-read but, if I’m not careful, I might have to take up some sort of craftwork just to pass the time. I’m the least “crafty” person in the world, so god knows what I’ll start doing. There must be something out there for a complete numpty to get engrossed in.

Utter garbage on the BBC tonight – a whole load of celebs desperate for attention are allegedly going to entertain us. Not me. I’ll be doing anything other than watch that drivel. Doesn’t matter how bad things get, celebs still have to have their egos massaged.

St George’s Day today and Shakespeare’s birthday.

This royal throne of kings, this sceptred isle… This blessed plot, this earth, this realm, this England.

- Richard II Act 2, Scene 1