MAKING AN ENTRANCE

It’s been a week since I was furloughed and what a joyous, carefree week it’s been.  No getting up at 5.30 am, no dodging the idiot drivers on the way to work, no listening to banal chit-chat from fellow workers and no need to mix with the riff raff outside (Boris’s orders).  And the sun’s been shining almost every day so what could be worse?

Not eating enough dandelions is what could be worse

No online shopping that’s what.  It’s probably easier to get an audience with the Pope than find a home delivery slot on any of the supermarket shopping sites.  I know I’ve tried!  El Papa promised to ring back later but Sainsbury’s said I wasn’t vulnerable enough, Morrisons said there were another 20,000 punters in the queue before me and Waitrose, well they just didn’t bother letting me log in.  Your name’s not on the priority list, you’re not coming in was their attitude.  Stuff ‘em!  Who needs food anyway?

Helping with the online shopping

Aside from still being alive, there are reasons to be cheerful (part 3).  Firstly, I’ve finished painting the entrance hallway which looks dazzlingly clean and virus free in Nutmeg White and secondly, there’s plenty of kitty love going around.

Before - our Moroccan themed entrance

Adding a bit of texture

Clean and dazzling Nutmeg white

The new lockdown extension period means I get to hang on to my ‘loan’ cats for that little bit longer and as I’m home for the foreseeable that means plenty of treats, lap time and mummy meows.  

And that’s just how I’m spending my day – they are just a pair of spoilt moggies who sleep a lot or cause trouble.

She'll never see me back here

Fatty loving the great outdoors

Exploring the veggie patch

Saying hi to the neighbours

Dusty's new home in the packing box

FURLOUGH

I must have rubbed that Southern Comfort bottle a little too hard last night because a genie popped out to grant me three wishes.  Top of my girlie wish list was ‘Fur. Loads!’ but instead I’ve been granted ‘furlough’.  See this is what happens when you delegate all-important genie-like tasks to those with a limited command of the Queen’s English.

Nevertheless, I’ll be ploughing my own ‘furlough’ for the next few weeks as our company, like many others, has decided to partly shut up shop. 

Yes, yours truly was lucky enough to find Willy Wonka’s golden exit ticket in her breakfast cereal this morning.  We do have breakfast cereal in our house unlike those less fortunate beings out there pretending that milk-soaked pieces of cardboard are a healthy substitute for shredded wheat.  You know who you are, health geeks.  Jeez I hate cereals at the best of times.  At 5.30 this morning, I actually thought the other half had substituted my dry, brown bran flakes with pencil erasers such was the chewiness of the contents of my daily breakfast bowl.  Yuk! 

No more breakfast bowls until the end of May.  Hurrah!  I can now spend my days glued to Netflix, knitting toy ants whilst bingeing on endless packets of Hula Hoops without the smallest pang of guilt and with 80% pay to boot thanks to Chancellor Roland Rat.

Or… I can spend the time productively clearing out clutter, washing smalls, pruning overgrown shrubbery or painting the entrance hallway.  Given the choice, I wonder what you would do?  

PS - Get well Boris!

  

LIFE IN LOCKDOWN

Quick, ring NHS 111 your mother’s been taken ill – she’s cleaned the kitchen! Text message from the other half to the kids.  

In a household where cleanliness and Godliness are forced to co-exist in the equivalent of a continuous domestic ceasefire, I question my sanity at having to reach for the anti-bacterial spray more than twice a week.  If we don’t die of ‘sticky buns’ we’ll most likely perish from food poisoning in my over-zealous attempts to rid the kitchen counter of germs, liberally spraying everything in the vicinity with a liquid coating of disinfectant – apples, satsumas, bread, etc.  What do you mean I should clear the surfaces first?  Far too much effort!

With that extra added flavour of anti-bac

We’ve survived the second week of lockdown thanks to Ebay and the odd, sneaky trip to Wilko’s for essential items such as metal lampshades, paint rollers and wallpaper paste.  Without DIY or online selling, I swear I would have gone mad or committed murder. 

Silver metal lampshade definitely an essential item

Social distancing has not really been an issue as generally I hate people so giving them a wide berth is pretty much the norm most days.  Yes, I’m that annoying person who agrees to social engagements then cancels at the last minute because I can’t be bothered to change out of my PJs or leave the house. More than happy to keep myself to myself, thank you very much.  Stay more than 5 metres away if you don’t mind or better still, round the corner where I can’t see you.

Life in lockdown is certainly weird.  Still waiting for news from the estate agent on our pending offer for the Biddy Bungalow so either they’ve died from the virus or their client has.  Job applications also appear to be on hold at the moment as recruiters are unable to interview in person or train you if you’ve been hired.  (There was me thinking it was because I was old and useless that everyone has turned down my applications).  It’s certainly strange times we’re living in.

On a more positive note, we’ve finished the office refurbishment and I can now blog with a prime window-side view of the street which certainly makes it a great deal more comfortable for spying on the neighbours.  Over the past few days, I’ve seen who’s been out shopping, who’s had visitors (naughty) and who’s been living off takeaway meals.  It’s like living in a soap opera. 

New look home office

Next week, DIY efforts are to be focussed on the main entrance hallway.  This will be given a good lick of paint in a bid to make it look as bright and clean as possible.

PROPERTY POKER

I promised the other half that I wouldn’t go on about ‘sticky buns’ but like everyone else, I’m struggling to talk or think about anything but.  It’s hard not to obsess about it.  Just ask my brother who’s jotting down the daily death statistics for Greenwich if you need to know what the latest position is for South London.

As I sit here in front of my keyboard wondering how the world went to hell in a handcart and sadly shaking my head at the latest email received confirming that this year’s Download Festival has been cancelled, it’s becoming harder to spot the silver lining in this otherwise very black cloud.

Property buying/selling is now the only straw hope I have left to cling to and even this is in danger of being blown away by the chilly wind gusting round the garden.  

We’ve made an offer on what I’m affectionately calling the ‘Biddy Bungalow’ that we viewed in Chichester a few weeks ago so have now entered that stomach churning, nail biting phase of property poker that takes place before a final bid is accepted.  It goes something like this – initial offer (rejected too low), counter-offer (still too low), second counter (greedy seller/agent), raise you again (you've got a cheek!), and maxed out final offer (bastard, I hope you get coronavirus!). 

Would be a lovely home for us two old biddies

To be honest, our offer is a bit of a leap of faith since our property is not even on the market yet and now that all population movement is restricted, I can’t even begin to guess how we are going to put it up for sale.  As my father used to tell me, there’s always more than one way to skin a cat.  Good job he doesn’t go round making statements like that anymore especially within earshot of our two furry cling-ons.  They’d be horrified!  

All we can do in the meantime is continue to decorate, de-clutter and de-fumigate so that we’re in a position to go for it as soon as normal service is resumed.  Perhaps in a couple of weeks’ time, Boris will relax the rules a bit then we can get back on track with our relocation plan.