The Coronavirus Diaries, 24th December 2020

It’s already nearly ten at night, so although I had meant to upload some photos to this post, with the new set up on WordPress I think it would take too long. It’s been a lovely day. The sun has shone, it’s been cold and bright, there was enough wind to dry the washing I put on the line, always a plus. Maybe that’s an age thing.

I did the last of the Christmas card and gift deliveries bar Celia and Charlie’s which is in the diary for midday tomorrow. One really bad point though, I dropped a gift to me, and although I haven’t unwrapped it, there is broken glass. Sorry B&J. And I know I shall be more sorry when I know what I have destroyed. Thanks B&J.

Lovely lunch with lots of greens and vegan gravy made me think of my grandmother who loved a gravy dinner. She also loved raw mushrooms, a taste she quietly introduced to me as my grandfather disapproved and was scathing of such habits. I still love raw mushrooms.With hummus. Yum.

Having surveyed my cupboards I decided I needed to top up my bean supplies, so off to Fare Shares for cannellini beans, black beans and chickpeas. Sorted then a quick minute or five punching holes in a tin can ready for my candle to take to the neighbourly carol singing. Next a walk with Celia and a magnificent sunset.

A cuddle with MasterB when I got in, then back out for some last minute veg, only to discover the guys at the market stall are not taking a break until New Year as they often do but will back on Sunday. Ah well.

Back on the street for carol singing. Our section of the square led by Bridget and helped by the sloe gin H made from the sloes I picked for her in the autumn. MasterB was ready for his dinner then I deserted him again for a Christmas Eve service at St Bartholomew the Great. It turns out there are several recorded carol services available online. take your pick of these. The choir was sublime, the deacon was theatrical, had a lovely voice, and was very high church. They did not stint on the incense. All this sign of the cross and incense is a long way from my church going when I was growing up. The creed had also changed. There were some combinations of words I recognised, but not many. I was glad I went.

The bus arrived at the bus stop seconds after I did. Home in a trice. Result. Dinner, then the ironing while watching three grown men spending the night in Hamley’s. Fun. Now please make a tv programme with three women doing the same. I nominate Olivia Colman, Ruth Jones, and Emily Maitlis.

MasterB is outside now, the washing up needs to be done, I am having scrambled tofu and mushrooms, maybe an avocado, for breakfast, so the tofu is wrapped in kitchen roll. This is all good. Good also that we have a deal with the EU, not as good as the deal we have now, but better than no deal. I’m signing up to the rejoin campaign. Some of the red top headlines have been so awful: jibes at Macron because hey he thought allowing lorries driven by drivers from the UK, where a new particularly virulent strain of the already virulent Covid 19 has emerged should not enter France. Of course he didn’t want them. If that strain had been in France would our government have been welcoming French drivers into the UK? I don’t think so, or at least I hope not; Happy Brexmas. I mean, really wtf? Brexiteer Jacob Rees Mogg’s business interests have made around £100,000,000 in the last five years. Great news for the exchequer; that will help fund the NHS, build roads, pay for social housing, alleviate homelessness, fund schools. Except oh no, it won’t because all his business interests are registered in the Cayman Islands and he doesn’t pay UK tax on them. Look at all those Brexit cheerleaders, the Barclay brothers tax avoiders par excellence, the Daily Mail which has been set up as an offshore entity based in Bermuda, to avoid paying tax in the UK, the Express, and a significant number of MPs and then at the EU’s plans to stop such tax avoidance and wonder why it is those aforementioned are so keen to evade the EU’s scrutiny. Despicable scum. It makes it very hard for me to have goodwill to all men when some of them behave like this.

However, to the rest of you, especially those of you who hold those shits to account, stay safe, keep well and have a very merry Christmas. And pay your taxes.


6 thoughts on “The Coronavirus Diaries, 24th December 2020

  1. Well said, Isobel. A thoroughly Unmerry Xmas to the likes of Rees-Mogg, the Barclays and that prince of arsewipes, Philip Green. Would that we could rid our island of such filth. And, on that cheery note, season’s greetings to you, to Master B, and to all your readers!

    • Having now read the words of Ursula Von der Leyen and Boris Johnson it is easy to see which one is the statesman and which the imposter. One speech measured, offering hope and olive branches, the other empty, flag waving rhetoric, as false as it is despicable. As my cousin Russell, who you recall as a young boy, wrote in his Christmas card, it’s hard to find the words I need to describe a government that is so far beneath contempt.
      Merry Christmas, we’re going to have our work cut out in 2021.

  2. Your second to last paragraph is such a wonderful expression of the surge of energy/panic that happens right now this very moment of Christmas. So much to respond to, so much to do, so little time for reflection. I’m hoping your St Barts service provided some of that peaceful time.

    Very glad there won’t be the Hard Brexit but oh wow won’t it be a surprise to the Brexit supporters to find out all the rest of the bits on offer.

    • St Bart’s was wonderful. I am so glad I went. The Brexiteers will already be stirring their nationalistic poisons to spread across the new year. It would be nice if we could vaccinate against such toxins.
      Have a great day.

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