Its the middle of June, a heatwave is happening. And so during one sultry night, when the duvet was thrown off to cool down, I received the misplaced kiss of my first mosquito bite of the Summer. Bliss.
The shop is doing well. Daily sales persist in mirroring the weather ie - inconsistent and unpredictable. A sequence of poor slow days, some slow but good days, some just very good days, some days when you'd think everyone has died, gone to heaven and not told you. A vague trend is that we take nothing in the first couple of hours before lunch, then take the majority of our daily sales in the space of half an hour to an hour. June, though it has followed this pattern of extreme variability, has over the whole thirty days proved one of our best months so far.
The pandemic and its restrictions have become second nature, whilst remaining tiresome. Spectacle fog, what's there not to like? I understand why folk feel fed up with it all. To elevate that feeling of being fed up into a logical reason for the restrictions to be finished seems, frankly, ridiculous. If being fed up was more effective than the vaccine, the pandemic would have been over last summer. Unfortunately, our feelings never made anything go away.
Unbeknownst to us, we've grown up in fortunate, though unreal times. The daily threat of disease so reduced we actively plan for a longer life. Taking us by surprise when we do fall seriously ill or 'die before our time'. Our prevalent health worries are a consequence of living longer, whether its arthritic, cancer or dementia related conditions.
In the 14th century the Black Death is estimated to have killed between 30-60% of Europe's population. Combined with a series of wet Summers, severe winters and the resultant famine, which killed yet more. Social fabrics disintegrated and the economy all but collapsed. You could say, comparative to the Black Death, this time we got off lightly.
However, the arrival of Covid 19 did lead to the often unedifying spectacle of folk behaving like spoilt children throwing tantrums about how unfair this disease is. 'For god sake its infringing on our civil liberties, our lifestyles, our peccadillos' Highlighting a 21st century loss of perspective, and an out of touch view of the consequences of sickness and death on lives, let alone the economy. This is one of the many deluded luxuries of our age, along with believing uncritically in the oracle of our feelings.
On a much frothier note, I am now sixty four. Delectable food, cards and presents have been offered up and accepted most joyfully. The Supreme Cake Maker, as per my request, made Mary Berry's Devonshire Apple Cake. All thought of my diet thrown out the proverbial for a day or so. Finished off with a Chippy Tea on the harbour wall at Wells next the Sea. The day after, being Sunday and our only day off together. we took breakfast at Creake Abbey Cafe and an afternoon tea at the Dales Hotel, just around the corner from home. In four years of living in the village we'd not set a foot inside afore. Splendid days, places and fare
Our diminutive patio decking outback, has been in need of rejuvenation. Flaking in places, worn away in others. I've been waiting for consistently warmer weather before beginning conservation work. So, given the Summer we've been presented with, I've waited quite some time. The plan of execution was to do it in two halves. Scour, sand, clean, repaint one half. Then once dry, move the arbour and containers onto the freshly painted area, repeat on the scuzzy remainder.
However, several fronts of grey cloudettes and torrentials intervened after the completion of the first half. The return of fairer times may commence, so I'm told, later next week. Meanwhile, birds have performed a dirty protest over the freshly painted section, excreting shitty piles of random green squiggles all over it. Nature abhours a vacuum.
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