The Diary

I had a moment at 3 in the morning – it is the time to have a ‘moment’ and in all fairness I have not had very many moments. And then I woke up at 6 am to a beautiful sunny day with the birds chirping magnificently and the moment had passed. I could have easily lazed in bed with a cuppa but forced myself to get dressed and start the day with a walk. I was not alone – it seemed like a good percentage of my neighbourhood had decided that a 6.30 walk was a good idea. And just in case any of us were confused about the 2 metres social distancing – park authorities were there to remind us. Or maybe it was a concerned resident. And they were right to do so.

 

Today I must return to looking through the boxes of papers that were retrieved from the attic.  It is quite a mammoth job and takes me down memory lane where I can easily lose myself for a good few hours. It has made me realise how much I didn’t know about my parent’s life and I so wish that I had asked them more questions. I would urge any of you who have parents alive to ask them about their past, about their extended family and commit it to paper or computer because we all lose our memories at some point and our children ll want to know too.

I found my mother’s diary today from 1943 when she was in the ATS. It was fascinating and very emotional.  No wonder they enjoyed being in the army they seemed to have a great time. Drinking, parties, dancing, concerts, tennis and an abundance of men to have fun with. I am surprised they had time for war time activities.  Mum did seem to have one preferred companion – Ernest – I wonder what he was like? I note that he kept ploughing her with eggs – as it would appear did others. My mother was very good looking. Maybe they thought it would help in the seduction process.  Receiving an egg in 1943 was a big treat.

 

I was amused to see numerous references in her diary to “went to bed with hwb”   and mum told me she was a virgin when she got married!  It wasn’t till I got to the end of the diary that I saw that hwb was a short form for hot water bottle. That will teach me to read my mother’s diaries.

The problem with deciding to clear out the loft on lockdown is that there is nowhere to put the stuff you are throwing out. The dump is closed, the bin people are only coming every two weeks and the charity shops are not open.  Last night I heard on our Watsapp group that the bin men were coming in the morning. Opposite me lives a very odd little man who has two bins outside his house which he never ever puts anything in.  So once dark had fallen, I crept across the road and quietly deposited some of my discarded loft goods in his bins. I think I was caught as I spied two little eyes staring at me through the letterbox.  I just might get a visit today.  

Interesting email popped into my inbox today from my financial advisor saying that it was time for my annual review.  Me thinks probably not a good idea – do I really need to know how much money has disappeared. But all is not lost I was tagged again and Eisvert has bought me for $11,117,902! Do you think I can call this in?

I am a bit disappointed in myself because you might remember I had this long list of stuff I wanted to get done during this lockdown. Besides the loft I have not done any of things on my ‘to do’ list. And the loft wasn’t even on the list. I haven’t learnt a language, I haven’t emptied my in box, I haven’t cleaned and sorted any cupboards, except the one drawer which I only partially did as I lost interest, I have given up on my mediation, I have hardly made a dent in the weeds in the garden and I haven’t ironed the sheets I washed today. Well I do have another ???? weeks/months to go so need to rush right?

“I am so busy doing nothing… that the idea of doing anything – which as you know, always leads to something – cuts into the nothing and then forces me to have to drop everything.”  Jerry Seinfeld

“Let’s be careful out there”