Death to dandelions!Life on lockdown continues. I am trying to keep to a schedule as mental health experts recommend, and this is not difficult, as my working day starts at noon and goes until 8 PM. At 9 AM or thereabouts I go out to wage war against the weeds. At 11 AM or thereabouts B.A. and I go for our government-mandated outdoor exercise. Yesterday we walked past Tesco to see if there was a queue, and as there was, I grumbled against our lot. Not in the Blitz Spirit, I know.

At any rate, we walked up our local hill and strode about our local cemetery and gazed upon the local Georgian church, while B.A. apostrophised the architect of the probably Victorian additions, and went back down the other side of the hill and were not stopped or questioned by police.

Then we went back to work, taking a break to watch Pope Francis’s Ubi et Orbi blessing liturgy and wonder who wrote the petitions. Then I went back to work and B.A. went to Tesco with a list I cobbled together while half-listening to Pope Francis’ homily. Happily, there was no longer a queue when B.A. arrived, but sadly there were no tins of tomatoes, no antiseptic soap, no antiseptic wipes and no olive oil, save for a garlic-flavoured one, which B.A. bought. But he did find baby spinach and  dark chocolate and various other things on my list.

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