After only a few days of French knitting, the length of wool is now up to my chin. But then, I am only five foot one and half inches tall.
I am knitting only while watching The Windsors on Netflix. (Thanks for the recommendation Sue!) Have you seen it? It’s an hilarious spoof on the Royal family. A must-see even if you are a Royalist.
Half an hour of knitting every day goes a long way – which is more than can be said for half an hour of blogging!
Now I’m being told off by son number two who has criticised the blog title. He thinks that calling it “Covid-19 and Me” will upset you, my reader. So, I have changed the title to Covid-19 with the date. I had thought of calling it Covid 1, 2, 3, 4 and so on but OH (other half) thought that you might think I am writing about different strains of Covid. A bit like a sequel to Jaws.
Please feel free to comment below. Let me know if the former title (Covid-19 and Me) distressed you and whether I was right to change it. Should we always listen to our children and our other halves? After all, they rarely listen to us!
I even had someone commiserating with me thinking that I did indeed have the virus – so maybe my son is right?
I have to keep reminding myself that it’s a Sunday. OH and I took a walk around the block before (nearly got blown off our feet by the wind) and did not see another living soul. No joggers. No cyclists. No mums with buggies. No OAPs. Zilch. Think everyone is now staying at home and keeping fit. Apparently, the sale of table tennis tables has rocketed. We are big fans of table tennis and play every week with a bunch of like-minded people who range in age from 20-80. Would it surprise you to know that one of our best players (hello Brian) is well into his 80s?
BC (before Covid) OH and decided it was time we bought a table tennis table. One was duly ordered and – after many reminders from us – finally arrived. It was unpacked by OH and our friend John (see what you’re missing John if you don’t read my blog) and assembled in the back garden. It took AGES. It really needed three people, not two – or maybe two much younger people. But they got there in the end. I was called outside to view the grand opening. The table looked amazing and we couldn’t wait to play on it. And then I spotted it. A crack on the playing surface which would make any play impossible. Sadly, the table was folded up and yet another phone call was made for the damaged table to be collected and another one be sent in its place. It took MONTHS.
Our friend Mel (you kindly mentioned me on your blog Mel so I thought I’d mention you on mine) has written an excellent book on how to complain which I recommend to everyone. But complaining did not help us in this instance. Eventually, another table was sent. OH, having learned from the last experience, did not even begin to assemble it. Instead he checked that all the bits and bobs were in place. And, you’ve guessed it, they weren’t. One vital piece was missing. Just like years ago when we assembled a cot from IKEA only find right at the end that it was missing a vital screw. So, we gave up trying to get a new table.
Yesterday our new table tennis table arrived. (Hope people are not finding this table tennis saga as boring as I find blogs about football.) This time we had ordered a “mini” -that is one half the size of a normal table, thinking that we could use it indoors and out. Until recently, we had been playing on one like this with our eight year old grandson Ethan. To begin with I had sometimes let him win. But after a few weeks of playing I was having to really compete in order to beat him. The last time we played (the last time we saw our fabulous three grandchildren) Ethan had beaten me – and without any cheating (ie deliberately missing his shots) on my part.
Our new table is sitting on the floor in its packaging waiting for the requisite 72 hours to pass before it will be safe to touch. It feels a bit like seeing all the Christmas presents under the tree but not being allowed to open them because it is not yet Christmas Day.
Everyone is at it now. Keeping fit at home. Those of us who survive will hopefully reappear one day – like a butterfly coming out of a chrysalis – slimmer, fitter and healthier than we were before. Here’s hoping.
In the meantime, it’s back to watching The Windsors and French knitting.
See you tomorrow.