I feel pulled in every direction. I want to see all my family but of course I recognise my responsibilities and so do they. So we test ourselves before meeting. Still clear. I do think the vaccine will work and I don’t think I’m likely to get it or, if I do, badly, but I am playing as safe as is feasible with the added wish to hug my family. It’s a balancing act.
I didn’t write the Christmas cards. I blame your kindness in telling me there’s no hurry. I’ve run out of time, yet there are people that I need to communicate with, so I’ve still got to do that. I agree that I need to do it in my own time, whilst recognising that “my own time” is actually never, so I must get my arse in gear. And if you’ve sent me a card, I’m so sorry that I’ve only written three and yours isn’t one of them.
I probably said, a few weeks ago, that a stone flew up and cracked my windscreen (my car’s windscreen, obvs, for the pernickety). The first date I could get for it to be replaced at the place approved by my insurance company was yesterday. I turned up and was told 4 hours. Imagine the horrified emoji. I walked the few minutes to Asda and wandered round for a bit, but – blimey things are cheap! – I couldn’t be bothered to buy anything as I’d have had to carry it. Some of the clothes were surprisingly nice for the price, but the thought of the sweatshops put me off. Ditto the ludicrously cheap gammon joint that the farmer must have been desperate to agree to. I will pay proper prices and respect the fact that some people can’t afford them and that’s that.
I went and bought a pot of Earl Grey and a slightly disappointing, but not unpleasant, mince pie (for future reference, Weeza recommends toasted teacake) at Costa down the road. I wore a face mask as I walked because the traffic fumes were really bad. And I whiled away my time on the phone and the car only took a couple of hours after all.
Clear tests all round, so went to visit Weeza and co. We hope to see each other next week too but also that they can come over for the 2nd weekend in January so that Phil can hook up Tim’s hifi stuff. Pugsley is very happy to have been offered a choice of Tim’s electric guitars. He is a very keen and very good player, Tim himself was impressed and had looked forward (unbearable, this) to watch him develop. I’m pretty sure he’d have offered him a guitar himself. Pugsley’s sister Squiffany has booked to go to the Reading Festival next August Bank Holiday, with friends. I’ve offered to drive them and will, myself, spend the weekend in Pembrokeshire. I’m looking forward to driving four exuberant teenagers – slightly less, the possibly smelly journey back. But hey, we can always open the windows.