I was asked recently how I was coping with all this isolation craic.
I had to ponder this for a moment to wonder what they meant. When I thought about it I realised that our life here at the Manor remains virtually unchanged as we have been “self isolated” for the last couple of years. The only real difference is that people don’t call in quite as often as they used to.
There have been a couple of changes however. The first is that buying groceries has become somewhat tricky. Normally I bang in an order online and get a delivery the next day. It’s a great service. Or rather, it was a great service. The problem is that everyone is now ordering online and the next available delivery slot is in two weeks time. How the fuck am I supposed to know what groceries I will need in two weeks? And anyway half their items are listed as “out of stock”. That is a major pain in the arse.
By far the greatest tragedy though is something I discovered yesterday when I dropped down to the village.
My coffee shop is closed!
They are shut for the duration.
Once or twice a week I would drop in there for a coffee. Strangely enough I’m not a coffee drinker and despite having a reputation for serving up great coffee at home I rarely touch the stuff. The exception of course is the coffee shop. There it’s a place of relaxation and respite from looking after Herself. Penny gets her fistful of chicken and then the two of us sit out on the terrace while I sip my coffee and puff on my pipe while Penny greets customers when they come and go. More often than not I am joined by a local or two, and occasionally a visitor to the area will strike up a conversation.
Now that’s gone.
This is going too far. This nonsense will have to stop, and stop immediately. Don’t they realise the damage they are doing to my mental state? And what about Penny? Without her regular feed of chicken she is going to fade away.
I haven’t even the heart to break the news to her yet.