Not Giving In

Tuesday 19th July 2022

The Metrological Office may have decided to colour the entire map of the country in catastrophic red but for those of us concerned with laundry this is Heaven. Everything dry within seconds of emergence from the machine, including dainty tea napkins offered at my formal seated teas, for sure

Not so good for ironing.

Years ago, in the 90s, during the high phase of the Poor Little Rich Gays having villa holidays, we took Northern Cyprus. It was a brain-wave of Anthony Mottram’s. We had the best villa in Northern Cyprus which normally is seen as a non-country where package holidays cost £44.68. But the maid never turned up and it was covered in dust from the building site all around where they were building more villas for the British market at £40,000 with pool and air con (except the elec supply had been left out of the plans rather). It was 40 degrees day and night but I vac-ed that drawing room, I can tell you. In the afternoons, at the height of the temperature, we went on improving expeditions to abandoned Greek churches and so on. Winding down on foot around interminable hair-pin bends with the abandoned Greek church in view, Robert Nevil, near liquefaction, said, ‘We must be mad.’ The next day he was confined to bed.

The other thing to do in Northern Cyprus was try and get a glimpse of where that Polly Peck man was hiding in plain view.

Today at lunch I determined on panzanella. I was one of the few running errands this morning but forgot basil. So out I surged to the local mini-mart at 1.30 to get it. No panzanella without basil. Unthinkable. But no basil in the mini-mart. In fact shelves stripped bare by vultures throughout the shop. Pecked clean. So nothing for it but to venture further to a new organic middle-class shop that’s opened. It was deeply worth it for who should in the queue behind me but Dominic Cummings, the worst man in the world. He was buying what I believe are called ‘beers’. You say to your ‘mates’, ‘Come over and we’ll have a few “beers”.’ I suppose there’s not much point in assassinating him now. In truth I was gripped by fear. All I could manage was what I hope was a dirty look. To think that that man destroyed our country for good.

That missing white sock though – it had become lodged inside a duvet cover during the cycle. No wonder I couldn’t find it.

But now that which was lost is found.

 

Posted Tuesday, July 19, 2022 under Adrian Edge day by day.

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