Monday 11th May 2020

Monday.

One thing I have not mentioned these past few weeks, is the deaths of several wonderful musicians.

In the last week we have lost Florian Schneider from Kraftwerk, Dave Greenfield from the Stanglers, and over the weekend, the real King of Rock and Roll, Little Richard.

Each one of them had a huge impact on my musical education, and all deserve more words than I am going to type now. These are hard times, and maybe might get harder with more icons passing away in the blink of an eye.

We did listen to a fine two hour special on Little Richard Sunday evening on the wireless, and amazing doesn't really cover his life. His music sounds as exciting and fresh as it did 54 years ago. And that is going some.

And today I watched a Kraftwerk concert from 1970, all electronic bleeps and the basis of what the band became. But this was just two months after Woodstock! They were so far ahead of the rest. Still are.

And as for the Stranglers: well, if ever a band looked dangerous it was them, and sounded it at times too. Odd that I hate The Doors with a passion, yet love the Stranglers and yet the organ playing is so similar.

But the weekend passed, and like a fart in a spar bath, sneaks under our noses, Monday arrived, uninvited and unwanted. And that means up at five and then phys.

It is a cold and windy day, freezing really. So once Jools goes for her walk, I do my 20 minutes, cool down then have a shower and get dressed. Then I put the heating on, not high, just enough to take the edge off.

She comes back, makes a brew to drink on the way to work, and leaves.

Leaving me to make breakfast, another pot of coffee and set the office up.

Sitting in the corner is the new work laptop that I will have to tackle, set up and transfer files to. But not today.

My colleagues are all fine. They can be just 1m from another person, not 2. And the pubs will open in a week. They are thrilled. Then I tell them about the clusterfuck here. It is really heartbreaking, and yet in Chez Jelltex, we live a fine old life.

Life is strange.

Outside the wind howls, trees bend under the onslaught, and I check the thermostat.

The post brings me a form to sign, another step in the closing down of Mum's life, the authorisation to close her bank accounts. I sign the form, then walk along the street, up the hill to the next street to the post box.

Job done.

The day progresses, and fails to get any warmer or the wind dropping.

I check the thermostat again.

I raise some nonconformities, as everyone needs a hobby, and I'm an auditor, its what I does.

I do another session on the cross trainer, pack up the office one last time and have a shower.

Dinner is to be chorizo hash, but as I am making it, Jools returns just as I discover we are out of chorizo. That is a pretty important ingredient.

Jools says to defrost some sausages.

I do.

Add some bacon.

Fry them both up, add to the veggies and then fry the potato.

And it is fabulous.

So much winning.

And finally, outside the wind drops.

But too late to do anything, so we listen to the radio.

And to our beds again at nine.