Counting every day. And every hour. And every minute.
Outside where only the brave and heroic venture
Ransom demands come from an unseen enemy.
Our world hasn’t changed, and yet nothing is the same
Normality is being redefined. Every day. Every hour. Every minute.
Away from family and friends and colleagues
Virtual spaces are now our dining tables, bars and water coolers. If
Isolation breeds despair, then
Resourcefulness nurtures hope. But
Until such time
Stay safe. Every day. Every hour. Every minute.
Tiki’s had a hair cut
While I was sorting out the stones from the soil and pondering on life’s little mysteries, such as who invented meringue*, it suddenly hit me that I was supposed to be in Weston-Super-Mare.
We (that’s me and the Weird Norfolk team) had planned on recording a couple of episodes of a new podcast called Lore of the Land, but obviously the law of the land meant we had to cancel.
So another glorious day in the garden it was, away from all the news and worries and weird stuff that is now a reality.
It’s only when I check my phone do I see how things have moved on and I now know someone who has a family member in hospital with the virus. Even the Prime Minister and Health Secretary have it. The latest figures released today are worrying. And I do worry. So I’ve planted garlic today. It has no use against the coronavirus, but planting it felt good for the soul.
I was also digging for treasure in the garden today. See my Instagram or Twitter feed for details of my haul.
I have been spoilt these past couple of days with the weather, but it looks like it’s going to get really cold again. It may not be practical to be out in the garden, not that I have much to do now other than wait for my plants and seeds to be delivered.
*I have asked this question son many time to so many people. The most famous of which was Charlie Brooker. Although I didn’t get a credit for the question.
Stay home and stay safe everyone. And that includes you Prime Minister.
Jeys Fluid (other outdoor cleaners available)
I have just realised that ambiguity of today’s title. Do I mean that childhood actually smells or do I mean smells from my childhood? Today it’s the latter. (Although some elements of childhood did smell. For another day perhaps.)
I have a couple of days leave from work. I thought I’d spend it at home (joke). So I have been in the garden for a good part of the day.
The first task was to clean and disinfect the greenhouse. I remember as a child helping my father do this. He always used Jeys Fluid for outside jobs such as the greenhouse and the drains – although I can’t remember if mother was in charge of the drains or not. I remember them being cleaned and then dad would sprinkle some white powder round them. I presumed it was ant powder, but now I think about it ants don’t live in drains. Surly it wasn’t rat poison?
Jeys Fluid is one of those magical potions that would sit on the top shelf of the garage alongside the Swarfega, 3-in-1 oil and a can of WD40. Each had their own distinctive smell and while the smell of the WD40 and Jeys Fluid were occasional treats, dad could find any excuse to wash his hands in Swarfega.
Another border cleared
So today all those memories flooded back as I mix up a dose of Jeys Fluid and got to work on the greenhouse.
It’s been a joy to be out there. A total distraction from the troubles of the world. Having said that, from time to time I did find myself consumed by a wave of reality, usually brought on by a distant neighbour coughing or sneezing.
I’ve made some good progress with the borders with more to do tomorrow. I also need to plan where everything is going, so I’m keeping my eye on where the sun gets to through the day.
Looking at the news now and it’s all about numbers. Deaths, confirmed cases, monetary support and stock markets. It’s all a bit grim.
Please stay safe.