I have just been complaining to Julia about the unfairness of life. Not the big unfairnesses like the lack of a lottery win, or not being born into generations of privilege, but the irritating little ones, like failing to go shopping the day before the panic started. Or being 61 instead of 59. (If you are 59 you are a lot less likely to die than if you are 60, according to the Government figures). And let’s face it, if you can’t trust the Government, who can you trust?
We bought memberships of the National Trust and English Heritage for Christmas, with the intention of visiting a lot of their properties this year. This would have kept us active and given me plenty of photographic practice.
It hasn’t happened, and it is looking increasingly unlikely that it will happen at all this year, with most things being closed. To be fair, it isn’t all the fault of the virus, a number of local English Heritage properties were undergoing renovation anyway, and weren’t in a fit state for photography.
Looking on the bright side, it could be worse. We might have taken out Life Membership.
Having looked at the mortality figures for my age and underlying conditions in relation to the coronavirus, this would have been a poor investment. It’s always been ironic that by the time you feel able to take out a lifetime membership of one of these organisations it probably isn’t cost-effective.
From a bug that could be defeated by handwashing, and which only affected the over-70s with health problems, it seems to have changed into a bug that affects over-60s with a few health problems I hadn’t even thought of as problems. And it can now only be cured by spending 12 weeks locked in your house.
If I’d known that 12 weeks of lounging round snacking and watching TV was a cure for serious illness I’d have taken this medical stuff more seriously. In fact, considering my lifestyle (or life – there is, let’s face it, no “style” about the way I live), I really shouldn’t be ill at all.
I’ve also been reading articles on how to spend weeks cooped up with Julia without a murder occurring. I told her this, and she muttered that it was already too late. From the fact I’m still able to write I assume she’s forming an intention but hasn’t quite got round to method and means yet. I may have to start feeding her chocolate. It doesn’t mention chocolate in the articles I’ve read, but I’m pretty sure it will work.
Today’s header picture is an interesting stone from the car park at Aldeburgh. We were there in East Anglia for three days last week – which will form the third part of my A Week I Wouldn’t Want Again series.
If you are planning on three days away my advice would be not to set off on the day the Government tells you not to travel.
Chocolate cures most things, even the urge to murder. 😉 Stay safe, be well.
And you two too. Personally, I will be working on a sentence that allows me to use the phrase “to two too”. Something like “it’s ten to two too.” would do but it needs some context. It probably needs some ballet input, though working a tutu in might defeat me. 🙂
Tee-hee!
I need some sort of aim in life.
I’ve always found the cost of life membership keeping just ahead of what one can afford – unless you already live in a stately home.
That applies to a number of things – we should form a theory of real life economics – that can be Knight’s Law, or Derrick’s Dictum.
Or Simon Says
It lacks the gravitas of Derrick’s Dictum. 🙂
Make sure it is good chocolate! 🙂
It’s Green & Blacks Organic – no point having bad chocolate if you are cutting down.
https://www.greenandblacks.co.uk/our-ranges/g-b-organic-range/g-b-s-classic-miniature-bar-collection-180g.html
You make an acute observation about life memberships. It does seem to be true that you can only start affording things when you are too old to enjoy them properly.
The lockdown must offer possibilities. You could use your poetic skills to write love poems to Julia and she could sit at your feet with her head resting on your knee, listening to you reading them. It would make a fetching picture.
Poetry seems to have deserted me for the moment.
Having just stayed indoors for 48 hours, I have watched the news tonight and wondered why I bothered.
We are short of cheese and I am beginning to worry about the pickled onion situation…
The cheese shortage sounds very bad.
It is troubling. I am trying not to panic buy, but the worry about new supplies is causing sleepless nights…
The whole thing is beginning to worry me quite a lot. I was calm at first but now I am not.
I was very calm to start with, then it became clear that the figures weren’t accurate, the politicians were panicking and communication was poor. I am now grumpy. This is partly due to my disgust with the way people are acting – particularly as I’m now being told only to shop once a week.
Stress levels are likely to rise to “irritated” within the next few days…
Stay well, and remember – don’t shout at the TV or your wife will tell you off. 🙂
She does already. TVs are for shouting at.
🙂 Exactly!