Friday 8th January 2021

Friday.

For Jools the weekend had already started, so the alarm was swithed off, which explains us getting up at half six or so. It was cold downstairs, but not that cold now the flap had been fixed. It was still in place.

Which was nice.

Jools is all a blur of work as she makes coffee, feeds the cats and is getting ready for some huter/gathering at Tesco and then off the Jen's for some yoga.

Obviously, I had work, so I keep out of the way before logging on at quarter to eight. There is still no news.

The day dawned with a fine light cloud with the crescent moon shining through, but a mist rose and the sea fog rolled in, so the outside world was hidden from view. If you listened you could hear the mournful lowing of the Dover fog horn.

We have the bi-weekly auditor's meeting, and although there is much to discuss, our worl is going to change in three weeks, maybe we should just wait and see what February brings?

I have two hours in phone calls after that. I am lucky in that I can work from home, and so three hours straight sitting at the dining room table seems such a small sacrifice, but by eleven, my legs were beyond stiff.

Still no sign of Jools, so I make a brew and make marmalade on toast, which I just finished when she returned.

We put up the shopping, she reported most stuff was there, but a real shortage of fruit, as we get most of that from the EU, or did.

Sigh.

As Jen was coming round later to play cards, and we would eat our main meal with her, we make do with a generous slice of Christmas cake for lunch along with a brew, as I wait until it seemed the right time to pack up for the week.

Jen arrived just before four, we have a brew while we chat, then as they play Rummicub I make a bowl of courgette fritter batter, then fry spoonfuls of those up, so at just gone five we can sit down to eat with glasses of wine.

Cheers.

At six I do the pop quiz as I had remembered, then it was eyes down for cards.

The radio played in the background, Jen won and kept on winning.

Sigh.

We ran out of stuff to listen to, ended up with Tony Blackburn on Radio Quiet, still cracking his dreadful jokes that he must have got from decades old Christmas crackers. Jen and I had managed to make the best part of a bottle of sloe gin had vanished.