Wednesday 14th April 2021

It is a truth in that you don't know how ill or down you were once you start to recover.

You can tell that, then, I am very hopeful that my old friend, Mr Gout, is on the run.

I had a good night's sleep, there was less swelling, the redness was reduced.

All in all, pretty good.

I woke up to find Cleo stretched out between my and the wall, like a skinned rabbit, as my old Dad would say. But as soon as Jools was up, so was she, hoping for breakfast, then up for playing, or just following either of us about, as hoomans have endless fascination for little Cleo.

Poppy is not quite as nervous, but has grown to the point that when we see a black cat we have to look hard to tell her and mUlder apart. Pops still has staring eyes like she is always surprised, while Mulder still has bald patches where he overwashes. Cleo is still tiny, maybe a little bigger, but only just larger than a kitten. Maybe she wll always be small, not that that's a bad thing, of course.

There is work once I had coffee and had checked on the world. Nothing much to report on, just the usual.

Jools went for a walk, I made a second coffee and logged on for work, finding a few mails to deal with, and more and more stuff being sent my way; it will be a busy summer.

Jools left for work, leaving me talking to colleagues as we try to make sense of the new world where we find ourselves in.

It was the third day of the audit, but I am done with my part, so after joining in with the kick off meeting, I am free to get stuff done.

There is the usual IT chaos, I have given up trying to deal with it, only when I have to. But I need some documents for a presentation on Thursday, so I have to use the Citrix gateways, and timing how long systems became usable after typing in the password came to 12 minutes. Then donloading a simple PDF took ten minutes, like being back on dial up, downloading a Nirvana CD from Napster.

But there was trouble: I had run out milk after I made my third brew, so there was no choice than to walk to the village shop. Jools said she would have gone before going to work, but I thought the walk would do me good, and meaning I HAD to go.

So, in a lull, on with the shoes, coat and grabbing a camera or two, I set off along the road to Station Road, turning down the hill towards the village centre.

It was a bright, if not warm day, so I took my time, looking left and right for flowering wild flowers, and finding some too, stopping to take snaps, then walking on, up the climb into the village, crossing over to the shop, where restrictions have been eased and now three people are allowed inside at any one time. I put on my mask and went in.

I grabbed milk, paprika crisps and a fancy magnum ice cream.

Four forty nine.

I pay by card, then walk along to the bench, settling down to eat the ice cream and to mentally judge those driving past and those trying to park their Porsche four by fours, taking up nearly two spaces in parking. Well, she paid twice as much as needed for the car, so it makes sense she gets to uses two spaces, no?

I finish the ice cream and walk back down the hill towards home, then slowing down as the road rose towards our street.

No one had missed me at work, which was to be expected.

So I made a pint of fizzy squash and took the large bag of crisps back outside to sit and watch the brirds on the feeder, hoping to catch a glimpse of the blackcap I had seen last week.

With the excitement over, the day progresses, I do some work on future projects while a podcast plays in the background until it reaches half three, and I tell myself I had done a good job and I should take the rest of the day off.

The supliment pills came, which I hope will work side by side with the ones from the quack, and form a pincer movement and kill the gout.

Bastard.

I have no preparation for dinner, as Jools was bringing home fish and chips, which I think was going to hit the spot.

Jools arrives with two bags of golden fried food, I had defrosted two rolls to make chip butties and long with huge fresh brews.

The day was done.

There is live radio this week, so not to cause offence in memory of the bloke who offeneded almost anyone not a royal. But we get three nights of non-prerecorded shows, being able to mail the presenters, and for a brief time, it feels normal once again.