Tuesday 14 July

Much duller and cooler today: this does not bode well for St Swithun’s tomorrow. For me it was a day of household tasks and chores, first to do the mammoth stockpile from Aldi. It was uncharacteristically very quiet. I saw no-one wearing a mask, nor did the staff have any. The new regulation is going to feel like a very retrograde step and I wonder how many people will adhere to it. It seems to be abut 50% on public transport. If I wear a Lone Ranger mask, will that do? But this does make me feel that we are still in lockdown, so from that point of view, I guess the blog is still legitimate.

I have been cleaning and cooking and ironing and all the usual mundane jobs, but this evening I decided to light the bonfire, which had had chance to dry out. I really like bonfires, I fear I have a latent pyromaniac tendency. This evening I managed to get it going with one sheet of newspaper and one match. Result! It is still smouldering now as I write. One of the neighbours came out and yelled across the gardens: I was afraid he was going to protest at the smoke but in fact he just wanted to check that it was not a shed on fire.

Seems rather a large picture for a not so massive bonfire, but I have not got too much else to fill the space. I noticed the fox came out as soon as I walked away from the fire and down the garden. Perhaps it was hoping for some roasted worms.

Our TV has died and we have a new one on order, but I have to say I scarcely notice its absence. Anything I do like, I tend to watch on iplayer at my convenience. My parents never had a TV till I left home at 18 years old. I never really missed it. We listened to the radio, I read a great deal, played the piano, wrote a large number of letters: my German penfriend apparently has a box of my epistles squirreled away in her cellar, and I have to say I also have boxes of correspondence from way back when. I sometimes wonder how future historians will retrieve information. There will be no letters, merely emails, which can be destroyed with a single tap.

Now to check that the golf course has not disappeared in a terrific conflagration….

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