Morning, morning. Seems like I’ve never been away, doesn’t it ? Last two days of Passover came and went. Made a real change, because instead of doing nothing I did absolutely nothing. Which as you will know by now is my fairly consistent state of being. And what I do best. At the evening meal the seder ( to help non-Jewish readers The Last Supper was a seder night… the first night of Passover…. See this blog is very educational … ) the youngest present asks four questions which are known as …. Wait for it, roll of drums… “The Four Questions “ Wonder who thought up that catchy title ? The first question is “ Why is this night different from all other nights ? “ Now, having also watched all three episodes of the ITV series “ Quiz “ about the Coughing Major ( as far as I know he didn’t have a temperature as well so no symptoms of The Big V ) who “ won “ a million pounds by “ cheating “ on “Who Wants to be a Millionaire ? “ I don’t think one would need to phone a friend to get the right answer to that one. Instead of having 14-20 people for dinner each night there were just two of us so my wife, as the youngest, got to ask the questions. We did try a zoom “mock “ seder before the Festival began ( not allowed to use phones, i-pads or computers once it does ) so I did hear a duet from my daughter-in-law and grandson Sam but lovely though that was am praying that next year we get the real thing. We do say at the end of the service ( and by then we’ve drunk four cups of wine so we could be saying anything to be honest ) “ Next Year in Jerusalem “ Me, I’ll settle for next year in Southgate with the 20 people at the table .
So, what’s happened in the real world? Not a lot as far as I can tell, but I am getting through this by rarely venturing out into the real world either physically or metaphorically (there, I was so pleased by that phrase that I used the other day that I’ve used it again. ) Back to listening to Chris Evans this morning. It seems that the normal rehab period for any addiction is 28 days, but after 21 days you’ve got the drug out of your system and the extra seven days are probably only to allow the clinic to get another week’s money out of you. That’s my take on it, not his, by the way, So, I came to thinking what addictions have I kicked and what new ones have I acquired?
I think I’ve got over the obsession with booking theatre tickets and having to be up at the crack of dawn either to be first or 3001st in the queue on line. My wife forgot to order smoked salmon for Passover ( yes, that has to be specially prepared too at a 50% premium on the price ) and I didn’t miss it at all. I think I’ve got over the need to watch every single cricket match that’s played anywhere in the world and is shown on Sky Cricket. I think so, but only time will tell when they start playing again. but my new addictions are ordering stuff from Amazon, or Boots, or Body Shop or Sainsburys ( now they seem to love us again…. only we’ve just been told no Swedish Glace Ice-Cream coming in today’s delivery… but we have another slot for Sunday week so all may not be lost ) I can’t wait for the stuff to be delivered and then it sits in the porch for a few days whilst The Big V bugs whither and fade. I hope . And then carefully ( but gleefully ) tearing off the wrapping. It’s like having a birthday every week. Never thought I could get so excited about light bulbs and toilet rolls and deoderants.
Today we are getting a lawn-mower delivered. It must be well over forty years since I mowed a lawn. I used to try to get it looking like a cricket pitch so the boys and I could play together with the two older boys, Nigel and Simon who lived next door and my friend Robby who came over every Saturday afternoon. It did teach you to play very straight if you didn’t want to run out of tennis balls. The flower beds suffered of course, But then I do think flowers and plants have their place which isn’t necessarily in a domestic garden which doubles as a football or cricket pitch depending upon the season. I will return to the subject of my garden in a moment .
I am looking around my office as I type this. It’s not a big office. In fact it’s tiny. I will get out a tape-measure later to see the size of my shrunken world ( I reckon maybe about eighty square feet ) and after spending eight hours a day in it I do feel as if I may have wandered into a re-write of Alice in Wonderland. I am absolutely sure there are prison cells bigger than this. I’ve mentioned a couple of high profile prisoners before like Madoff and that film producer bloke whose name may not be spoken. They’ve both probably got some prison guards on their payroll to guarantee them a suite with a built in shower , but my one guard in the shape of my wife ( who pre-censored today’s blog by the way in case you think it’s particularly bland…. she told me that if I had written what I wanted to write that there was very likely to be a contract put out on me and that I already had enough problems with The Big V not to go looking for trouble ) anyway my guard resists my efforts to work at the kitchen or dining-room tables ( both rooms bigger than my cell … whoops… my office …) as she says I make a mess. Bit harsh, particularly when today is my day to dust and hoover the through room ( dining and tv in case you are interested which you probably aren’t )
I’ve actually got a really busy day ahead ( so no doing nothing today ) but I will fit it in although I did consider a virtual clean to go along with the virtual soup which I made in place of the vegetable soup I intended to make for Passover. But the moment for that has certainly passed over. Just as my moment to raise money for walking around my garden has passed. I did say I would return to the garden and as you have learned I do return to the subject in hand after a few meanderings . I mean, that’s the title of this blog after all isn’t it.
In terms of the navigation of my garden I’ve certainly missed a trick there. I mean my garden is about a hundred feet long and thirty feet wide so it’s a bit of a hike, but I’ve been walking around it since day one of lock-down and never raised a penny. I mean this Captain Tom bloke is only twenty or so years older than me and I’ve got metal in my foot and I could stick my son’s cub badges on my walking top…. So maybe the moment hasn’t passed and I could yet get to £17m . They are talking about a knighthood for this old boy, but, hey, what about me? Let’s just promote him to Major, re-record and re-release the David Bowie single and it’s job done.
The Noisy People,( Isabella, the 94 -year- old… she walks around the garden too and nobody sponsors her ) thinks I am a bit harsh about TNP who were out again in force the last couple of sunny afternoons. She thinks children should be allowed to play football in the garden (can’t argue with that, but not to play Ed Sheeran over and over again and very loudly. I’ve got to the point where I might even chuck some CD’s over the fence…. But, then does anybody use CD’s anymore? Yet, when it came to the NHS clap last night TNP were nowhere to be seen or heard. Mind you, it was a bit parky and given the age of the people in my neighbourhood the NHS , yet again, may have collected a few more patients in return for the applause. Not the best of bargains.
I have to say when walking around my garden ( and I do lose a bit of walking space because of the shed at one end and the raised patio at the other, oh and the bloody flower-beds ) it has occurred to me that it’s a bit like a prison yard. I’ve thought of digging for victory though an escape tunnel might be more useful . You’ve also all seen those Prisoner of War movies where the camp is surrounded by barbed war or electrified fences and one of the guys gets so desperate he makes a run for it and then is either recaptured, shot or electrocuted during his bid for freedom. That thought has occurred to me as well, just to make a run for it, but where can you run to ? There are no woods outside in which to hide, the tunnel ain’t going anywhere and this isn’t the movies. BUT as my wife pointed out to me in my desperation to avoid watching or listening to the news or reading any part of the paper that even mentions The Big V I am living in “ La La Land” ( loved that film, by the way though know lots of people that hated it ) . But, wouldn’t you rather be living with me in La La Land or Wonderland than playing a bit part in “ Groundhog Day? “ Come on in. It’s much more fun. The birds still sing, the lambs still gambol, fluffy bunnies still hop and there’s hope for everybody.
Just on the subject of smoked-salmon by the way, by older son is doing shopping for necessities for the elderly people who live in his block and top of their requirements seems to be smoked salmon with a later request for cashew nuts. Makes my desire for Pot Noodles seem perfectly reasonable.
So, enough for the day though not sure I’ve really said anything at all, but isn’t that what a blog is supposed to be about? My grandson seems to manage to do that every day. I asked the little so and so for a mention just before Passover started and he asked me how much I was prepared to pay ! and this after I bought him a new phone when he broke the original one. And then he had the gall to say that somebody I( ME!!!! Your Grandpa!!!! ) had asked him for a “ shout-out” …. what he now thinks he’s a Radio DJ ? and he not only wasn’t giving it without payment but wasn’t even giving the name of the person who asked for it ( ME, SAM !!!! ) He’d better remember what goes around, comes around and I know where he lives.
Stay safe all of you, Sam and Cara particularly ( have a regular bath-time 6.30pm slot with Cara now ) and see you all on Sunday if we are spared, Yes, Its Sabbath tomorrow. Another day of rest.