Croaky Keith
Well-known member
....Can you tell I'm bored?
Noooooo, surely not, & so soon.... :smileybounce:
Stay safe folks.
....Can you tell I'm bored?
I'm in an "Essential Industry" so I lack any excess of free time.
We're doing "Split Teams" but even our "Out" segment we're working
COVID, COVID, COVID...I run an assisted living. I can't escape it and the never-ending agency protocol changes. May actually be done for the day. Might play uke. After my nap
Pretty much the same for me up here in North Yorkshire,quite limited as I come into the very vulnerable group so unable to pop out birdwatching so I intend to get good at playing uke fingerstyle,plenty of lessons on line I do like Aaron Keims style and it is my sort of music so I'm trying to get a hard copy of his book. Stay safe folksBeen retired over ten years, so 'filling in my time' has developed into a regular routine,that suits me and doesn't frighten the horses! Shopping for food is fairly tricky at this time obviously, but hey, a chap has to eat,right? New laws come in to force,that any reason for being out of your home can be questioned and even fined, by the Police! Okay, we all have to act responsibly during this crisis, but I repeat, I have to have food, it is something I have grown accustomed to over the past seventy odd years!
But all that aside, I spend my time reading, doing things on my PC (like this!) playing my modest collection of instruments, listening to music,and watching television. Aside from the everyday drudgery of cleaning,cooking etc to keep the old stately pile from collapsing.And remember, no matter how bad it may get, 'this too shall pass'......
Three friends and I (with occasional visitors) have been getting together to play music on Sundays for the past few years. We have missed the last two Sundays, but Ted has found an ap that will allow us to get together while maintaining social distancing. We're gonna try it out for the first time tomorrow. Can't wait.
Be aware that you can't all play at once, there's a lag/delay that prevents that. My group hears only the leader and plays along, with all of us on mute.
We’ve been planning a shopping trip for a couple of days : herself has sewn a mask for me, and I´ve repaired a one-piece overall.
We’ve been planning a shopping trip for a couple of days : herself has sewn a mask for me, and I´ve repaired a one-piece overall.
Having finished the last bottle of wine last night, today was obviously the day. In order for the mask to fit, and to facilitate washing, the moustache and beard had to go, and I saw my chin for the first time in about 48 years — not a promising start to the day.
I loaded the car with propane cylinders, empty bottles, and rubbish bags, and armed with a huge list I left the house for the first time in two weeks.
All was quiet, the streets virtually deserted, the occasional distant figure only amplifying the feeling of emptiness.
At the Repsol Gasolineria I got propane, water, petrol for the genny and wine. The price tickets had strangely vanished from the edge of the shelf where they usually reside, and I paid nearly 40 € for five bottles of cheap red … well, they are on the front line and I for one think they deserve a bit extra. I sometimes protest that I´m a pobre Inglése huérfano ( poor English orphan), which amuses shopkeepers immensely.
Doubling back into the centre, I made for the supermarket. Back on with gloves, mask and glasses and into possibly the most dangerous place in Lanjaron. People, mostly masked, were squeezing past each other in the narrow aisles, much ribald humour was filling the air, the shelves were full and there were no apparent limits on purchases other than the size of the usual wheeled baskets provided.
Two elderly ladies were shopping sans mask, revealing faces which would scare away the most determined virus. I meanwhile was in some difficulty. My overall is a Canadian Dew Liner, made to keep me warm in minus umpteen centigrade, and not the ideal thing in a small crowded shop in sub-tropical Spain. A wooly hat covering my hair was the icing on the cake.
Without my specs I cannot find things, but wearing a mask immediately steamed them up. Add to that the fact that the entire place had been redesigned since my last visit and nothing was where it should be.
By the time I bolted for the check-out I was thoroughly sauna´d and sufficiently discombobulated to forget the brandy, which means my favourite breakfast will be off the menu for another week.
Social distancing was evident outside the pharmacy, which disguised the small queue outside, however attempting to cross the threshold I was soon made aware that there was a strict hierarchy amongst the three people standing at random near the entrance, and my profuse apologies were met with good humour. Fortunately no shortage of asthma meds or paracetamol, and that completed my quest.
I pointed the Berlingo back up the mountain, where I divested myself of outer clothing and washed hands and face at the outside washbasin.
So — more or less a week´s supply of essentials, and some reassurance that things haven’t gone totally pear-shaped yet, but the virus is here, a town hall worker and a local doctor have caught it, and it will go inexorably through the pueblo until it has run it´s course.
I´ve pulled a sack of walnuts out of the shed, there will soon be almonds and nispera ready, and there´s always lemons and an avocado or two to be found, what´s more I´m told we will be Skyping this afternoon, when the family will all find out simultaneously whether it´s going to be a boy or a girl!
No complaints here.