On Monday A bad week – and I’m sick of Moon River
WELL I hope you’ve had a better week than I have. Frankly mine’s been hard going.
So far this lockdown I’ve managed to keep a positive head on re the future and make the best of what is, for some, a far worse time than I am experiencing.
I’ve embraced Zoom and launched myself into a wide range of classes from BollyX dancing to Bolivian Body Combat, sung lustily with my choir, if not on too many occasions out of tune, had lengthy conversations with friends around the globe and taken up Italian.
Last week it all turned to rat’s poo. My energy levels plummeted. Great for a martial arts class. If someone had put a wet paper bag over me I couldn’t have punched my way out of it! I did manage to hit myself in the face though with a hand weight and twisted my neck in BollyX manoeuvre.
The Internet kept freezing and when it eventually deigned to unfreeze it was as if I’d put an old 45 record on at the wrong speed turning the instructor into Charlie Chaplin accompanied by the chipmunks.
I am persevering with the Italian class but frankly there are moments
when it might as well be Greek.
As for the choir. Well, we are working towards another virtual concert this time using a new app designed to make it all very easy. Oh yeh?
After two hours of trying to record Moon River I realised the app wasn’t designed for a laptop …and to cap it all my Ethernet went down.
I had no idea I even had one let alone what it does. I only noticed when the black box, apparently the Ethernet dooffer which sits on my desk normally flashing like a 70’s disco….. remained black.
My usual method of, shall we say, reinvigorating difficult machinery, a well-aimed kick, sadly failed on this occasion. When everything goes wrong I usually clean.
At least you can see the results of a bit of hard graft but this week my vacuum decided to blow instead of suck…that was a delight.
Facebook, normally a welcome source of jokes and funny videos, was full of messages about stolen and missing dogs. Very depressing.
Even finding something on the television or a book to read has been a trial. I am sick and fed up with storylines in which women are the victims or children go missing.
I enjoyed some of those Scandi noir series to begin with but they are so…. grey!
After an hour of grey cities, grey rivers, grey office blocks I long for someone, even the corpse to turn up in a red cardi!
Oh and I’ve been bingeing. Not on box sets …digestive biscuits! It has absolutely nothing to do with being deprived and unloved as child, or now. I’m just greedy!
To cap it all Sunday morning, the sun was shining, so we decided to wrap up warm, light the old fire pit, sit outside and drink hot chocolate imagining we were on the ski slopes. I got the milk frother, made two large mugs and sprinkled them with cinnamon…only it wasn’t. It was Chinese 5 spice powder. Not an exciting new flavour courtesy of Heston Blumenthal I can assure you. That’ll teach me not to put my glasses on when I go furtling in the cupboard.
Still, as Scarlett O’Hara, so wisely said: “Tomorrow is another day.”
I shall gird me’ loins and embrace whatever the week throws at me.
As long as it isn’t Chinese 5 spice powder. Oh and I never want to hear Moon River again!
We decided to light the old fire pit, sit outside and drink hot chocolate imagining we were on the ski slopes. I got the milk frother, made two large mugs and sprinkled them with cinnamon… only it wasn’t