Gospel happy clappy on the Sunday service. I don’t mind a bit of uplifting Aretha Franklin Americun gospel as opposed to the modern happy clappy nonsense we get fed in the UK. Trouble is it’s a bit lively for ten past eight on a Sunday morning. The BBC needs another focus group to realign their content with what us punters want to hear. Reassuring dullness with some strains of classic church music thrown in to break it up a bit. The wireless has now been switched off no doubt registering a massive blip on their audience listening numbers.
The DG will have something to say when he (or she, I dunno) sees the charts in the Monday morning management meeting. “Did Tref not like the Sunday Service?” The phone will probably ring but if they do their usual trick of ‘number withheld’ I almost certainly won’t answer it.
Breakfast is THG’s highly invigorating gran o’la with yo ‘gurt and locally harvested blackberries. I am sorry that most of you will not get the opportunity to try it. V uplifting. There is also toast. White, buttered, orange marmalade, fine cut. The toaster started working again as soon as our Tom came home. Still doesn’t do the top bit of the bread. The toaster is toast once, I get round to sorting it. Manãna.
THG is off to her usual devotions this morning leaving me to sort meself out. This is not a big issue. By the time I need another cup of tea Tom might have surfaced. He keeps different hours to me being a much later bird. I’ve been getting to bed by nine since coming home from the hospital. It’s comfier there. I have found myself awake during the wee small hours looking for something to listen to on the wireless.
I say wireless. It’s the BBC sounds app. The World Service is a bit hit and miss and last night it was definitely ‘miss’. I found instead a story on Radio 4 Xtra about some remote Irish Isle. Did the job. Even tempted to find out when the next episode is on, always assuming I can remember what it was called.
I can make my own tea. It’s just the carrying from the kitchen to the snug. That too is doable with some care but it makes sense to delegate it to an able hipped person. Tom has been very forthcoming with the tea tray fair play to him. A good lad.
Now fully socked in the snug and settled in for the morning. Socks are the only things I can’t put on meself. That will be the first sign of improvement. Yay I managed to put my own socks on. In a bit…
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I’m told, by our esteemed Meteorological Office, that there is less than 5% chance of rain today. Well they called it precipitation but I understood what they were trying to say. I will therefore venture out of the front door a little later and walk as far as the front gate. We haven’t actually got a gate but it is the place at the entrance to the manoir where gates would be fitted if we did have them. When I get there I may even go further and see if I can get to the pedestrian crossing. That feels as if it will be enough for now.
Yesterday it was chucking it down all day and the drive was too slippery to risk. Had I looked I daresay the Met Office would have said 100% chance of precipitation. I didn’t need to look on their website. Just looking out of the window was enough.
There is noise coming from the kitchen. Breakfast being prepared. Sausages. We don’t all have brekkie at the same time. Wouldn’t life be boring.
Watching a bit of Rallying from Sweden on da box. V pictureskew with lots of forest and snow. The do a good snowy forest in Sweden. Good saunas too, no doubt.