It’s a miserable day.
It’s blowing a very wet gale outside. It’s cold and very uninviting.
The gubmint is micro-managing us all, deciding where we can [or cannot] go and even how many people we invite into our own homes. They are even placing some unfortunates under “enhanced surveillance“. It’s all for our own good of course. Stalin must be pissing himself laughing in his grave.
The house is warm and [reasonably] dry. I’m well stocked up with whiskey, baccy, fags [for Herself] and even food. I’m even having to bin some stuff from the freezer to make room for the new. There’s enough oil in the tank and I’m fully stocked up on the drugs.
Healthwise, the auld ticker is still ticking [for the moment anyway]. Herself is a bit more cheerful after I persuaded her she doesn’t have the Virus. Penny gave us some cause for concern a few days back but a good puke on my bedroom carpet sorted that and she’s in fine form now.
So, in spite of the best efforts of our Lords and Masters I am happy, and living up to the family motto:
noli illegitimi carborundum