Ten days ago it all looked slightly more cheerful. The third vaccine had arrived, the schools were about to reopen, we’d got rid of 2020 and there was hope in the air. Then within minutes of the man who seemingly can’t be sacked telling us that under no circumstances were children going to be deprived of returning to their classrooms than the man at the top who seemingly can’t be removed was telling us that they won’t. And all this while the man in charge of trade who somehow manages to appear invincible was reassuring us that despite eight thousand lorries stuck in Kent Brexit wasn’t a problem. So in a flash everything went belly up.
But don’t let it get you down. The man at the top has assured us that everyone over 70 will be jabbed by the middle of February. While the man in charge of schools will give every child a new laptop and a fast fibre internet connection. And the man in charge of lorries & tariffs has said there’ll be no food shortages. Especially as the man in charge of money is printing tons more of it for everyone. So everything’s all right after all and we’re not to worry. But we must stay indoors just to make sure.
But meanwhile, amid all that chaos, here in Westdean we sort of carry on as normal. We get up and go to bed as usual, the dogs continue to have no compunction about demanding their walk before I’ve finished my breakfast and good old Waitrose deliver once a week. The only change to our routine is that Sophie and Bay have escaped from London’s plague and are staying with us until Bay’s new school in Brighton restarts. And that’s all in the laps of those who can’t be sacked, removed or are invincible. Of course their arrival is delightful but disruptive, with toys, dolls, pencils, paints and papers adding considerably to the natural clutter of the house that I’m unfairly accused of making. And trying to keep a five year old concentrating on her online lessons when she’s got the attention span of a gnat and would prefer to be doing almost anything else is quite a challenge. Cake making with Play-Doh and, yesterday, The Joy of Painting came to the rescue and I found them both creating *Bob Ross masterpieces on stones from the beach. In my opinion, the best place for his stuff.
Talking of the beach nothing changes there either apart from the shifting of the pebbles according to the direction of the wind. The recent storms have played the usual havoc with the Cuckmere, blocking the river’s exit and flooding the valley as a result. Touch wood, not as severe as last winter…yet.
Another of winter’s joys is hoar frost. Yesterday’s was a corker and though the distant views were spoilt by the mist the filigree around the plants was just magical. These pictures should cheer up even the gloom merchants.
*As a special treat for all Bob Ross fans, click on this link to know everything there is to know about him. https://www.nytimes.com/2019/07/12/arts/bob-ross-paintings-mystery.html . And watching all of his shows should give you something to do while waiting for your jabs.