Friday 19th December 2021

Every day that passes, and the next day when I come to write about it, my mind goes blank. Every day is pretty much like another, just the fact most days I put on the work laptop, weekends, I don't.

There is football on TV or to follow on Twitter or the BBC website, dinner too cook, and in this way the days and weeks pass. Friday was the 50th day of the year, in the next 50 Easter will come, the first orchids may well bloom, the clocks will go forward and it will get warmer.

Each day we dream, we pin our hoes on better days ahead. Something to look forward to, a meal out, meet friends, or that holiday of a lifetime.

We hope to travel to New Zealand at the end of the year, and in preparation I ordered a book on orchids in that country. There are dozens, and in all shapes and sizes. Just to see one species would be nice. Any more a bonus. The book cost an arm and leg, but is glorious with lots of fine photos.

If we don't go this year, we'll go next year.

But we really want to go this year.

Jen was ill on Friday still, so no yoga for Jools, and she would not be coming here for dinner, or us going there. Jools had a list of tasks to do, and again I thought if I started work early, I could finish early.

That was the plan.

Jools went for an early morning walk, I logged on at work, dealt with the mails and began to tie up the week's loose ends.

IT still didn't work.

Damn you, Citrix.

But work goes on. I have a long conversations. Sorry, several long conversations about the issues we face. Sometimes, I get imposter syndrome, and then a meeting or call starts, and this expert stuff pours out of my mouth, making it sound like i know what I'm talking about. Maybe I do.

Jools goes to Tesco, returns with several full bags of stuff. I put it away so I know what to cook the next week. Tacos it seems.

She goes into town to the laundrette to wash the duvet after Poppy's latest accident, gets bird seed, and is back for lunch, where we have rolls filled with leftover kofte kebabs. A lunch of champions. Champions of indegestion, it seems.

I have a long meeting with my boss. We talk about work, cooking, beer, Brexit, Covid and wild garlic sausages. So much in common.

Half two turns into three, and that'll do, pig. Time to log off. I close all windows and apps down, pack the computer away and move over to my computer, doomscroll Twitter, write a blog, make coffee, and eat a Double Decker.

The evening comes, I make courgette fritters, we have beer and/or cider.

Jools goes to have her jab. After she is given a leaflet with possible side effects, so once home she goes to bed to read and keep warm.

I watch the Watford v Derby game, hoping Derby can do us a favour.

They can't and don't.

I switch it off and watch tram videos from Stuttgart. As you do.

And drink sloe port.