It’s official (if that word applies to this government), the light at the end of the tunnel is indeed an on-coming train. If this train had a name board it would say mutant (s)train. It seems to be heading nicely for the wreck up ahead. We are that wreck.
Not quite sure whether this latest change of suggestions / instructions / advice / legal requirements has totally kyboshed our planned Christmas or not. Frankly it (our two days) were so modest that it would be hard to do it damage but never say never*. Daughter and husband coming round on Christmas Eve for a meal? Who knows.
The latest sea change has merely increased my commitment towards finding as many treats as possible and enjoying ourselves wherever and whenever possible. I did say in a recent blog I was planning to err on the upbeat side of life.
For example last Friday, properly protected, I went out and bought my Christmas present from my daughter to me. That’s them above or the box anyway. Studio monitors to the shop, fancy loudspeakers to me.
They’re part of my plan to achieve a little something in these troubled times. That something is playing along to jazz tunes accompanied by iReal backing tracks on my acoustic guitar. I mentioned it before but there was a small problem, just from the iPad the sound wasn’t really loud enough hence when my daughter asked what she should buy me and I was stuck, as I’ve said before I’m of an age if I want something I’ll go out and buy it not wait until bleedin’ Christmas. Unless it’s very expensive and I can’t afford it, in which case nor will my daughter be able to.So I had the bright idea of buying the monitors an item (or two items) I probably wouldn’t have bought for myself without this prompt.
So Friday we came home with them and they went under the metaphorical Christmas tree to be opened on the day. Except Saturday’s news was so grim (one of my mother’s favourite words – how’s things, mother – grim) I was looking for a treat and decided f— it I’ll open the present now and I can be playing along before the day. Job’s a good un.
I know I’m a bad person, my deferred gratification gene has been eroded by the virus I suppose. But the point is I have found it quite hard to find suitable treats and certainly any that aren’t food and drink related. For a diabetic whose sugar and weight readings are slowly going off the scale and in a bad way, this isn’t ideal. I mean, for example, our local pub, which is closed of course, is offering, through its Facebook page, Cointreau hot chocolate for just £3.15. They don’t deliver when we would want it and the photo of it shows a cup full of what look like sugar cubes. Perfect.
Anyway the studio monitors have the benefit of being calorie / sugar-free even if they are a bit early. Mrs Summerhouse, whose birthday is on the 14th was sent the latest Lee Child book, admittedly, as I understand it written by his brother but never mind. I have to walk past it and the temptation to pick it up and start reading it even though technically (or any other ‘ally) it’s not mine, is immense.
I’m sure when she reads this which she always does, she will say, you silly old thing, of course you can read it first, these troubled times. I have bought myself three (I think) books for Christmas but to open those at this early stage, that really would be the end of civilisation as we know it, wouldn’t it?
We’re close to the collapse of life as we know it, Jim, by getting as close as makes no difference to binge-watching Tin Star on Sky Atlantic. We thought we were living dangerously with Walking Dead (gave up simply too depressing and life-like); Stranger Things (daft but engrossing): The Alienist (OK but confusing) and Babylon Berlin (the only one we could understand ironically because we can read the subtitles much easier than we can comprehend the speech – who knew it would come to this with subtitles?). Oh, and Weimar Berlin has always held a strange fascination for me. Not sure why?
But Tin Star, we’re watching two episodes every night**. It has the advantage of being almost believable compared with the above. True the Canadian town where it is set seems a little violent for Canada. Now had it been Batley then fair enough.
We make ourselves watch at least one doco before we subside into Tin Star – The Elizabethans, Historic Towns, Sky Arts, South Bank Show, that kind of educational, mind-expanding stuff. But apart from jazz guitar to iReal backing track and these docos as my learning experiences, we’re in a bit of a quagmire. Mrs SH suggested now might be the time to break out the easel I purchased several months ago which is still in its box. My art career revisited hasn’t quite taken off yet. With several months of lockdown at my disposal there’s plenty of time yet. Sadly.
Let me finish this retirement blog by saying that I know some people are of the opinion that retirement is meant to be a time of relaxation, fun and frivolity but I’ve always had a bit of trouble with this way of thinking as regular readers of this retirement blog will be aware. So throw in lockdown restrictions and I suppose you could doubly make the case for just kicking-back and indulging one’s most enjoyable fantasies. Well, not all of them, but some. And doing so without any of that guilt that seems to colour-wash my retirement.
However, after seven years of retirement and about 10 months of lockdown, I have to say I can’t see any light at the end of the tunnel, on the track to this kind of thinking. Wait, what’s that spec of light up ahead? Oh no, it’s that effing train again.
*And after the latest news in which the EU has quarantined the whole of the UK (which is what some people wanted wasn’t it?) I may have spoken too soon and too optimistically.
**As of Sunday we’re taking a break.