Weeknotes 065: You can’t go to your bed, daddy
The Chef flunked her lateral flow test. We knew the wedding was a risk. One we’d take again. Fortunately—so far—it’s not been bad. She’s isolating with the other flowers in the attic and Piglet remain symptom free.
She’s joined in isolation misery by my sister who was clearly copying The Chef’s homework. She made it back to Dorset and has managed to cadge a friend’s subscription for a week on the couch with Succession and Mare of Easttown.
We started the week in happy ignorance taking my Dad out for fish & chips and a stomp. Piglet is lucky to have the grandparents she does. And we’re lucky to have the parents that we do. They inhabit the same bodies, but they’re different people. And we love all eight of them.
A brief non sequitur: I’m reading a book written in the 1970s and it uses the phrase sobered down instead of sobered up and, well, that makes more sense doesn’t it? Was there was a time when they were in competition?
I had a bad day midweek. Work things 40% done and no edorphin hits from completed tasks. The roofer failed to show again. I discovered the bath is leaking. I dropped my crappy new phone1 on the drive and cracked the screen. Even undropped it managed a Schrodinger’s text where I had a send message and the person who we ordered food from had nothing. At least we got food after an apologetic plea. Maybe the bad phone contributed to my bad mood. Frequent minor annoyances. The Chef was patient through my ranting.
And the next day she got Covid.
Our humane mouse trap worked and I released a second mouse in the nature reserve. A fortuitous escape given the theory that Omicron can infect mice.
I took a carer’s day for Friday and me and Piglet spent as much of it outdoors as possible. Piglet’s doing well with constant daddy, but you can see the confusion and hurt that she can’t kiss and cuddle her mam. Mealtimes are the hardest with The Chef separated either by time or distance. We’re hoping for a better rest of 2022.
With my love of RSS, it would be remiss to not share the RSS Discovery Engine (via Jamie Adams). Have a play with it while listening to Come on in by Lady Wray. Just don’t come on in to ours—we’ve got the plague.
Don’t buy a Pixel 6. It doesn’t work. I mean selfies crash the phone, which is a bug they should have found before selling to the public.↩︎