One of these Saturdays I'm going to declare #ConfinedCocktails and everyone will be out. Because it's summer, and finding a socially-distant opportunity to catch up with whoever you can reach is a perfectly reasonable weekend aspiration. But I still feel aeons away from normality. I'd had a couple of weeks of mindless optimism, as Europe reopened and second waves didn't go berserk. Maybe *this* virus wouldn't follow all the rules of epidemiology?
Well, no. It turns out that social distancing helps but it's not a perfect fix, and danger is still out there. Ripples of waves are happening, because stepping out of our houses still carries a risk. Sigh. I may have spent Friday after work in a proper shopping turn around Uniqlo, Waterstones, Holland and Barret, M&S, Superdrug and Oliver Bonas (which, believe me, is a potent mix of proprietary hand sanitisers if you do them all in 40 minutes), but I was properly masked and not anywhere near feeling normal.
Still, if you're at a socially-distanced very windy BBQ tonight, good luck to you. It's good to try normalish. Ruth reported on one such earlier this week and it sounded good and stressful both. Kate has been cooking up a storm, while Sharon has blitzed through 3 pints of strawberries in a perfectly seasonal show. I made a gorgeous tomato curry last weekend, then ceased to cook anything meaningful for the week, because *hot*.
Tonight I'm cooking again (because significantly less hot), and drinking the worst kind of sangria while I do. Not the cheerful super cheap stuff that tastes of 7Up and is full of fruit, but the half-hearted kind, limonata plus red wine plus a slice of lemon. Poor show. I'll have a negroni later, once dinner's done. Mustn't let the side down.
And tomorrow, I shall picnic, in the properly British style: in drizzle and 30mph gusts, keeping an awkward distance from my old friends while we try not to let the tinned Pimms blow away... Normal, ish.
That will be a proper British picnic. Have fun! :)
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