With the shortages at supermarkets because of a lack of lorry drivers, it seems to have been decided that priority will be given to deliveries of staple foods. That’s fair enough unless you want pre-prepared party-ish food. Waitrose in Norwich didn’t have any. Luckily, Tesco did, to an extent, so I’ve been able to take a few shortcuts. I’ll still be doing quite a lot of cooking in the morning as well as putting together the blini and so on.
Apart from last minute stuff, we’re ready. Champagne is in the fridge and I’ve done all the forward food preparation that I can. I’ve done a flower arrangement in the church and delivered the service sheets there. Wink made a fish pie for the three of us (including Daphne) for dinner and I’ve pleaded tiredness and a need to write a few emails etc, before going to bed. I’ll have a bath and hope to sleep, though i’m not that confident. I’m keeping as busy as I can, but in between times I’m sad and lonely, which is stating the obvious. My courage has mostly drained away and I’m using my reserve tank. Like when I’m playing the clarinet and my lips get tired, I lose my embouchure and I’m just puffing and getting by for a last few minutes, or when I’m no longer lifting with my core strength and will damage my back any minute through too much heavy lifting.
Enough with the similes. I just need to get through tomorrow and then I’ve booked Sunday lunch out, with Wink and me, Daphne, Zoe and Mike. Unfortunately, Rose is away this weekend. On Monday, I’m back down to Reading with Tim’s brother and sister-in-law to start the dismal job of sorting out the house. Once I’m back here again, the next priority is paperwork. Wink will be away for a week and, if I do all I want to, we can have a day out together once she’s back again.