Powering through – In the name of Thiago – Day 214


The week is getting progressively better, I’ll say that much. I’ve been very busy with work today but happily still managed to get most of my loose ends tied off before I signed off early this evening. Today was the last day of cover I was providing for a colleague, who returns to work tomorrow. To be honest, I’ve quite enjoyed it, as it was something that I used to do anyway and changes that have been made since I was doing the role regularly, actually make it more interesting.


I called off work for the day just before six and then did a few stretches while watching a few overs of the first test between England and Pakistan. It’s still weird watching or listening to sport with no spectators. I sometimes leave the radio on in the background while I’m working, thinking that if I hear a loud crowd noise I’ll pay attention to what’s happening. I keep having to remind myself that this is a forlorn hope and may be for quite some time yet.



England’s cricket captain Joe Root joined the headbanded brigade today, following in the footsteps of his fast bowling teammates Stuart Broad and James Anderson with the latest accessory. The jury’s out following my extensive research of this subject – a half-hearted Facebook post – on why everyone’s wearing them all of a sudden ranging from being Rambo impersonators to using them to control unruly hair. I wish I had that bloody problem! Frankly I don’t know why I’m writing this as nobody really gives a shit.


But it does lead me into admitting that I still enjoy dressing up and looking a right pillock. I particularly enjoy how annoyed some people get at my complete and utter refusal to acknowledge social norms. I wear multi-coloured wrist bands all the time and I love my hat. To me they are my equivalent of a comfort blanket. Strange but true, which in a sense could also describe yours truly.



Her ladyship rose from her slumbers at the entirely respectable hour of 12.30pm in time for lunch. She was a little bit grouchy, but I suspect that was because she knows that part of the gig of getting fed involves speaking to me. For our collective sanity, I kept it to a minimum and then despatched her to Juliette.


Juliette is a regular reader of my blog and better than that, seems to enjoy having the company of her ladyship. No, I don’t understand it either. Elisa used to be looked after by Juliette at her home, which is also Happy Bunny Childcare. When I decided a few years ago that I wasn’t prepared to pay for a hugely inferior service to the fat sisters at the nursery that was next to Elisa’s primary school, finding Juliette was a blessing. It turns out that I was far from being the only parent who felt the same way.


Elisa loves spending time with Juliette and her husband Steve and now that she’s a bit older, I think she liked the responsibility of keeping an eye out for the little ones. I’m not suggesting for one moment that Elisa did have that responsibility today, but giving her that impression probably didn’t hurt. I just wish that I could do that at home with her little brother, who I miss as much today as that painful day last November, when he checked out.



Here’s another confused little soul. Poor old Jack just can’t seem to get his head round the new set up at our home. He accidentally got locked in the summerhouse last night and thankfully didn’t shit on the floor. He’s constantly meowing, much to my irritation. I’ve never been his biggest fan, I just hope that when we do eventually complete our building project, that he gets his mojo back.


Well as Porky Pig once said: “that’s all folks”. Keep the donations and the shares coming and look after yourselves wherever you are.


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