Apr. 1st, 2020

tealin: (Default)
My grocery order from the local pub arrived today! The doorbell rang literally five minutes after I finished the last of my milk, so it could not have been better timed. I got everything I asked for, and the price was surprisingly reasonable, considering it was delivered to my door and one of the items was a large free-range roasting chicken from the local artisan butcher's. By the weight of it, I'm guessing it has come with its giblets, so that will be cause for some therapeutic creativity later on. I am also now drowning in potatoes and onions, so, life will go on for some time yet.

I spent most of yesterday tidying in anticipation of switching into Book Mode – mostly this means setting up my drawing table, so my desk has to be clear, but I find it a good mental palate-cleanser to do a general tidy when I change tasks anyway. Despite this I got no work done on the book yesterday at all: my brain has been nachos since the fiasco Sunday night, so I gave up trying to concentrate on anything and instead watched The Big Short, which my sister has been nagging me to do for years and which I keep forgetting about. That is a good movie! I can see why the nagging! It's on Netflix now so if you want to surprise yourself by caring about bankers, see a remarkably sympathetic portrayal of autism, and appreciate the work of a talented editor, check it out.

Another thing I did yesterday was make a necessary trip to the post office, to send off a commission intended for a child's birthday present, before said child's birthday. That was by far the most Pandemic experience I've had thus far: there was a minder at the door directing people to where their needs could be met, and turning away people who didn't need to be there. She directed the person who entered before me to use the self-service machines, but me she directed to a window in the back, even though what I came to do could usually be done at the machine. The attendant didn't turn up for a few minutes, and then was wearing a face mask and gloves despite being behind a plexiglass barrier already. I wasn't allowed to drop my two pre-stamped envelopes in the mailbox so I handed those to him as well. The recipient of the commission is ill with The Virus; though still well enough to respond promptly to emails, he is quite frank about how awful it is, so I'm hoping the package will cheer him up a bit. With any luck he'll be sufficiently recovered by his son's birthday to give it to him in person.

On my way back I stopped by the new hole-in-the-wall Tesco. It was empty of people but full of food; I got some bananas and an aubergine just to look like I was doing essential shopping, but mainly I was there for biscuits and marmalade. I don't keep biscuits in the house usually, but in Olden Days I would have two or three pastries a week when I went to draw at Pret, and after a few weeks of confinement, I was missing the fat and sugar pretty badly. The marmalade craving was surprisingly intense – I had none in my stores because I figured it would be less hard to find in a post-Brexit apocalypse than, say, dried shiitake mushrooms. My sister has promised me a care package of citrus preserves, so I only got one jar, which should tide me over until that arrives. Marmalade on buttered sourdough toast is an unusual but delightful experience – it manages to be sweet, sour, salty, and bitter all at the same time, with a good crunch-to-goop ratio. If the lockdown has pushed you onto the sourdough wagon, do give it a try.

We've tipped well past midday here and I really have to set up my drawing table, but first I have to clear my desk again ... hmmm, I can see where this is going ...

December 2023

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