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Got out for the first time in nearly ten days (and no, chopping ice next door doesn't count.) Feeling slightly less apocalyptic for the air and exercise and human interaction, if ordering a sweet vanilla cold brew counts as such. Lockdown was never this distressing, but then in lockdown I could bicycle around to my stores, which I did several times a week as I recall. Also Trump, though around, hadn't declared himself dictator or threatened to invade various countries he had his beady eyeballs on.
Street corners are better than expected though there are two untouched slush bogs between me and Yarmouth, and half of Yarmouth is the same so walked in the street. But Christie was fairly clear, aside from those types that cleared a scant foot/ 30 cm wide path for the able-bodied to walk through. So made it to Blawblaws where a cauldron of unholy lusts sang about my ears. (Have said before, cauldrons do not sing, Gus, unless you're Housman.) Did not buy coolers or wine or chocolate anythings and definitely not pastry. Did buy toilet paper because disaster mentality me thinks the four triple rolls I have left will not last me a week. Which is of course ridiculous, the more so as I discover that drinking water doesn't involve the bladder emergencies that anything else does, especially coolers and soft drinks.
Then came back and chopped NND's ice, because I could. Sunday's snow shoveller came by and asked if I needed a hand and I said no thanks, because this is my exercise and there was only a few inches left to do. Temps will be above freezing all week, with rain, so I might tackle the I'm alright Jack types up the street, supposing my joints don't take too much exception to the dank.
Street corners are better than expected though there are two untouched slush bogs between me and Yarmouth, and half of Yarmouth is the same so walked in the street. But Christie was fairly clear, aside from those types that cleared a scant foot/ 30 cm wide path for the able-bodied to walk through. So made it to Blawblaws where a cauldron of unholy lusts sang about my ears. (Have said before, cauldrons do not sing, Gus, unless you're Housman.) Did not buy coolers or wine or chocolate anythings and definitely not pastry. Did buy toilet paper because disaster mentality me thinks the four triple rolls I have left will not last me a week. Which is of course ridiculous, the more so as I discover that drinking water doesn't involve the bladder emergencies that anything else does, especially coolers and soft drinks.
Then came back and chopped NND's ice, because I could. Sunday's snow shoveller came by and asked if I needed a hand and I said no thanks, because this is my exercise and there was only a few inches left to do. Temps will be above freezing all week, with rain, so I might tackle the I'm alright Jack types up the street, supposing my joints don't take too much exception to the dank.
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Man took himself waaay too seriously, and the Church even more so.