The year continues to rattle by.
In any other normal year, right about now we would be on our annual expedition to the quieter parts of Scotland, wandering around in the drizzle, engaging in some open-air therapy, visiting our favourite whiskey spots to test drams and hot cheese scones, and consuming my own body weight in lorne sausage. I say mine only because Phil is too unsophisticated to appreciate it. Or deep fried scotch pies.
Pffft.
But no, the plague continues to rampage and arrived literally next door to us last weekend. After coming down with symptoms in the week we went along for a test a couple of days back and how very dystopian it all feels. A university car park converted into a one way system and blokes in G4S jackets (which because of my history suggests security/prisons) barking orders at people, shouting “DON’T OPEN YOUR WINDOWS”. The first fella asked us if we were prepared to administer our own tests so, as nurses, we said yes and drove on to Station Two (a little security hut and gazebo).
After the second fella strapped two test kits to my wing mirror then retreated we were directed to Station Three (a parking bay) where a third fella shouted instructions at us through the window.
Shortly after this I was suddenly thinking of an old, schmaltzy and by moderns standards a bit weird cartoon called Love is…
Love is… laughing hysterically at your partner as she raucously gags and weeps trying to deep throat a swab for 20 seconds!
Fortunately I was able to return the favour as at my turn I proceeded to engage in exactly the same gagging and coughing, plus a sudden bout of uncontrollable sneezing, which she naturally found hugely satisfying.
What a palaver.
Anyway, the tests came back negative (SO HURRAH) but we’re still down with some bloody ‘normal’ bug (so hurrooh).
Meanwhile, Loz and I have done our homework for The Knight of the Swords Part Two and will be recording over the next few days. Hussein has got the taste for this online recording shiz and is gearing up with new kit for The Final Programme Phase Three and Phil and I have selected a book for a Halloween spesh that we’ll bang out next weekend.
Also Tash and I have settled on a subject for a new and occasional foray into… ONE SHIT BOOKS! Tash coined the phrase back in The Jewel in the Skull Part Three and we’re gonna run with it. Stand by to hear our rum-soaked musings upon DANNUS and the DARK STRAITS OF REGLATHIUM.
Coming to you in one fifth of an Ium or something (it’s been a couple of mygs since I looked at the glossary).
Breakfast in the Ruins 