Living The Lockdown Life - Day 48 & 49

Thursday morning (day 48) and a gloriously sunny, if a little chilly, start to the day. After my Wii Fit session and breakfast, I had an epic blog catch-up and then wandered outside barefoot to water the plants, discovering that the first Welsh poppy of the Spring had flowered.  Jon continued with his work in the utility room - for such a small room it seemed to be generating a lot of swearing.

The postman delivered a letter from HM Revenue & Customs with details about applying for the Self-Employment Loan Support Scheme. On further investigation, I found out that I couldn't apply until next week but I was able to register my details online and set up an account.

A potter around the garden revealed these filthy old cooking pots I'd rescued from the parental home years ago. Whilst I loathe shiny brass, I thought I'd have a bash at cleaning them. I know ketchup is supposed to be good but neither of us likes it so there's none in the cupboards.

Google suggested that I dissolve 1 teaspoon of salt in 1/2 cup of vinegar and add enough flour to make a paste, apply, leave for 10 minutes, rinse and buff dry.

Hmmm....not sure if there's a vast difference but didn't hurt to try.

Whilst I was outside on the step scrubbing I spotted an empty can of pop in the gutter so, as I was wearing my rubber gloves, nipped out & retrieved it then proceeded to do a litter pick of the entire avenue, barefoot and all. Is it just me or have you noticed that people seem to have forgotten how to clean up after themselves since lockdown? The amount of dog sh*t we encounter on our daily walks is getting ridiculous.

Beth had commented on my last blog post that when she had five cats, they used to have their own laundry basket, which reminded me that my crocheted cat blankets could do with a wash so I popped them in the machine while I ate my lunchtime noodles and slung them across the line to dry. As they're acrylic so they dry really quickly so the lads didn't even notice I'd washed them

Although it had clouded over, it was still deliciously warm so I lay on the lawn reading. Jon joined me when he'd had enough of the painting as did Kitty, next door's beautiful - but slightly deranged - tabby.

Before our walk, Jon ran the clippers over his head, just as he'd finished he managed to drop them on the floor and break the blade. He's not having much luck this week, is he? Once we got back he had a look online and managed to find a set of Wahl replacement blades on eBay - much cheaper than a new pair of clippers.

Thursday's lockdown look was my 1960s block printed hooded kaftan (purchased from Viv, a lovely trader friend last Summer).

The jewellery? A Banjara tribal torque bought from the roadside in Goa back in January for the princely sum of £1 and some silver Turkomen earrings I found on eBay to replace the earrings I thought I'd lost last September.

After tea (ready-made sourdough pizza from our freezer stash and homemade jacket wedges) we watched The Other Mother and clapped for our carers. In addition to the usual chorus of car horns, saucepans, bells and fireworks there was also an air raid siren, somewhat appropriate as tomorrow is VE Day. It was a beautiful evening, was warm, with a full moon and the air heavy with the scent of our Yukka which was starting to flower.

Friday (day 49) started with the last Wii Fit session of the week. As the forecast was for a warm and dry day I put a load of washing in the machine and pegged it out on the line. When Jon had gone on the supply run on Monday, in his rush to get out of the shop, he'd inadvertently bought pipe tobacco instead of rolling tobacco so popped out for a replacement, picking up a few fresh veggies, cola, white vinegar and mustard while he was at it. After I got dressed I caught up with the blog world and Jon, having disinfected the shopping, cracked on in the utility room.

As it was VE Day we took down the rainbow flag and replaced it with a vintage Union flag.

I thought you might like to see these photos of Jon's Dad (the likeness is uncanny). A war hero, gymnast and keen photographer. Sadly, I never met him.

I watered the pot plants, checked the greenhouse and sat outside in the sunshine replacing the hook and eye on the Pakistani block print kaftan I'd worn on my travels in India earlier this year.

The brambles at the top of the garden had sprung up and were starting to drive me mad, catching on my dresses and scratching our legs to pieces so I spent an hour or so cutting them back, with a break for noodles.

When Jon was tidying out the coal house at the start of lockdown I was amazed to spot the 1930s (?) mirrored cabinet that used to hang on the bathroom wall (now the utility room), I thought we'd got rid of it years ago.  I have a hatred for corner furniture, hideous baths that were the in thing in the 1980s and those mock-Regency dressers in highly polished wood, filled with fussy bits of china, popular with oldies, but there's something rather endearing about this little cupboard, evoking fond memories of I visiting my grandparents when I was tiny, climbing on the loo seat, twisting the Deco handle and peeking inside, inhaling that curious chalky aroma that all old bathroom cabinets seem to smell of (and still does!)

I scrubbed it out, sanded it down, taped around the mirror and got Jon to give it a lick of matt emulsion whilst he was painting the utility room walls. Once the room's finished I'll share it.

Lockdown outfit, day 49 - Vintage '70s Third Eye Indian block printed wrap over maxi skirt (eBay, 2017) and an organic cotton, hand-printed sleeveless top bought in February from one of my favourite Indian artisan shops, Cotton Cottage.

Back in February, this retailed at around £9 - not bad for a fairly traded, artisan-produced, handmade piece of clothing, however, the store manager insisted I had it for free as we'd already bought a couple of items and we've shopped regularly there for years. What amazing customer service.

Ethiopian tribal necklace, circa 1965 (Facebook selling page, 2019), Tibetan silver & turquoise earrings (inherited from Mum)

Rachael, one of our neighbours, popped round and invited us to an impromptu VE Day street party at 4pm. We took our own chairs and beers and sat at a safe distance eating home-made coffee cake, listening to Vera Lynn and chatting to everyone that walked past. In the time we spent chatting with our neighbours we got to know them better in four hours than the 15 years we've lived opposite them, making us all ponder on whether lockdown really is such a bad thing.

It's 8pm, we've been drinking since 4pm and, other than a slice of cake, haven't had a thing to eat since our lunchtime noodles. It's the naughtiest thing we've done for 49 days!

See you soon.