Memories of better times

Breakfast was so lovely. We were shown to a table under a parasol at the edge of the terrace; just beyond the low wall small boats were transporting goods down the canal; larger water taxis were filled with people going about their day.

We ate mango and strawberries, little jars of vanilla yogurt and warm freshly baked pastries with chilled fresh orange juice and a pot of coffee. 

Birds were darting down from the overhanging trees in the hope of finding a few crumbs. It was bliss, I could have sat there all day.

That was then...

This is now...

Porridge at the kitchen table with a view of our garden under a grey sky... and a squirrel burying a walnut in the grass. Little devil.

Everything is so crap, the best thing I can do is keep dragging thoughts of better times from the deep recesses of my memory. I've revisited all sorts of places we've been. I'd give a lot right now to go out for breakfast or lunch but, even when Lockdown 2.0 is over, it's not going to happen if we still have to wear a bloody mask or have our temperature taken at the door. 

When the whole Covid thing started back in March some people were so spooked by it they were sanitising everything that came into their house and even quarantining their post - I read today that many of them are still doing it nine months later! Are they completely mad?! 

I imagine these are the same people who want us to be locked down until any possible threat of Covid has passed or until we've all been forcibly vaccinated. They really need to grow up and have a word with themselves. It's a wonder Mr S-V and I are still standing - I've never got involved in any of that "sanitising the shopping" nonsense. Just wash your hands and wipe the worktop with anti-bac spray, for goodness sake.

People are becoming seriously fatigued with all this now - the fear narrative we've been fed is wearing a bit thin and folk are questioning the veracity of the daily "cases and deaths" figures. Boris has handled it so badly; seems we're all going through this charade to avoid us finding out just how badly.

Having Christmas hanging over us like the Sword of Damocles isn't helping. We're craving the normality of being with our family and friends, but all we hear are threats from alleged scientists about dire consequences if we do. One Prof even said "There's no point in having a very Merry Christmas and then burying friends and family in January and February". Well, isn't he Mr Cheerful?!

I imagine Boris will appear on TV at some point and, like a Fairy Godmother, say "You shall go to the ball!" He's desperate to be seen as the good guy who 'saved' Christmas... bit late for that, Matey; that ship sailed a long time ago.

Turned a bit parky this week; we woke up to our first frost of the winter on Thursday morning - very chilly! I made a vat of broccoli and stilton soup, some of which we had for lunch with warm ciabatta; it really hit the spot. If I can get some coriander from M&S on Monday I might make some carrot and coriander soup - I seem to have cornered the market in carrots! Slight case of over-ordering by the purchasing dept, I think.