Friday 27th March – Anyone for banana bread?

Pandemic felicitations to you.

And may the flesh-eating virus pass swiftly by your dwelling.

Today I have mainly been about the cake-bakery business.

Partly because, unlike the folk that are loudly complaining in Sainsbury’s, I was feeling super smug that I actually do have flour.

For some reason.

And partly because, if I have to sit and watch Anna make one more Tik-Tok dance video I will go ahead and preempt the possibility of imminent plague death by lighting my own self on fire.

Trust me, a slow death sponsored by an iPhone app and an out of tune teenager is not the way I intend to go out.

As a general rule she has the decency to treat my home like a hotel and only returns to sleep, steal cigarettes and snarf her lasagne. So this whole ‘enjoying spending time with your loved ones’ crap is really starting to chafe.

7 times 24 is a whole-lotta-Anna.

Ultimately I intend to marry her off of course, and there’s a tragic little dowry on offer if that sweetens the pot at all for any prospective suitors there might be out there.

So yes, I resorted to ‘baking-stuff’ which, whilst not exactly the rock ‘n’ roll life choice I thought I’d be making at this stage of my life, is infinitely preferable to ‘cleaning-stuff’.

So far I’ve made banana bread and a chocolate cake.

Neither would come out of their respective pans.

Both look somewhat blacker than the picture in my book.

But hey, think of the money I’ve saved.

I should have just sprung for the two quid cake I saw in the shop this morning instead of wasting my time smirking piously at the Yummy-Mummy who was coming completely unglued because she couldn’t find self-raising flour for her muffins (did I mention I have flour? Circa 2016, so not just flour, but vintage flour thank you very much.)

I shouldn’t have dashed home and chiseled five year old ingredients out from behind my Frazzle collection so that, in some desperate attempt to prove that I too am the kind of person who finds solace in the creation of tasty treats for my family, I could get my Victoria Sponge on.

I would have saved two precious hours of my life.

Because, seriously, who am I kidding?

I will not be styling my way through this lockdown with the grace that all the Facebook lay-dees are demonstrating.

There will be no panache.

Pizzazz has left the building.

I’m no bakerist.

The only similarity I have with Mary Berry is very much of the Tesco Basic kind and so, it’s back to the drawing board in terms of entertaining pastimes for the foreseeable.

Maybe I should make a dance video after all, back in the 80’s I had some moves.

So all that remains to be determined is:

How do I download Tik-Tok?

Wednesday 25th March – I promise not to lick your face.

Well, the doom didn’t get me.

But I have deep concerns that the total abandonment of common sense may currently present a deeper threat to my existence.

I was out for my essential exercise to get a Flat White from the coffee machine at our local supermarket this morning ( ahem…and some nutricious fruits and vegetables, of course) when, upon approaching a pretty normal looking woman on what used to be considered a normal sized pavement, instead of walking past me in a slightly wider arc, she resorted to abruptly stopping and simply turning her back on me.

I’ll try not to take that personally shall I?

But in her defense, maybe I’ve got one of those faces that looks like I might be a cheek-licker.


Anyway, the fact that in doing so she had shoved her face into a privet hedge and was, at that point, literally eating leaves didn’t seem to bother her at all.

Her dog, not so much.

It yelped and shot backwards causing me to have to deploy a gazelle-like leaping maneuver to avoid tripping over it’s lead and plummeting under the wheels of an approaching Warburtons delivery lorry.

It’s okay, I’ve got reflexes like a cat.

Anyway, the point is – come on lady. Can you see yourself right now?

Also, the point is that a Warburtons lorry in the vicinity of Sainsburys means good times ahead vis a vis the whole not having anything to put my Marmite on.

Silver lining? I think so.

But I digress.

Brain boggling stupidity aside, I’m not altogether hating this new England. 

In fact it’s kind of a society I can get onboard with.

Most people are nailed inside their dwellings so when you do go anywhere, you pretty much have wherever it is that you are, all to yourself.


I also don’t hate people remaining no less than six feet away from me.

Makes me feel a bit like a pop-star.

Keep back you riff-raff.

So whilst the doom might be keeping up the relentless pressure on Sky News to keep us all glued to the screen in terror, it is actually still okay to find something to be happy about.

No need to feel guilty about some merriment.

Because it’s a well known fact.

When life shuts a door. Open it again.

That’s how they work.