Leaving water tap running - twice. I'm not going into detail, but my bathroom carpet got a soaking from which it has more or less recovered. Daughter Louise was less than sympathetic "serves you right for having carpet."
Knocking over a glass of red wine - a small one.
The childbride put ear drops in my eye. Olive oil. I thought it stung a bit. It's supposed to be steroid, but now I can hear out my right eye. Won't be getting syringed any time soon.
Check out my wonky bird table, twinned with my bug hotel - side effects of the crates that the firewood arrived in. I have broken the plastic tray since this pic and need to fashion a replacement. There's plenty of wood.
The childbride has washed the cricketers, but she says they really need a paint overhaul. Another lockdown job, if I've got the appropriate stuff - acrylic latex apparently.
Matthew Parris is somewhat controversial this week, the Times, April 11th:
'I'm encountering what is for me an almost intolerable level of guff about reconnecting with nature, learning the joys of contemplation, home-cooking, realising how much more there is to life than nine-to-five, putting the rhythm of lovely walks and daily exercise back into life, birdsong etc.'
Hmm, yes it can get a bit twee, but it can also help with lockdown. According to one of my Thursday morning coffee zoom pilates pals, Greg, 'It will all get back to how it was'.
And Matthew agrees, somewhat chilling:
'... bit by bit, messily and patchily, we return to normal this and next year. The shadow it will cast will not be over attitudes, lifestyles or values, to which our attachment (and in which our inertia) runs deeper than we know. We'll be just the same, but poorer and, sadly, somewhat fewer.'
Hmm, I'm at the stage of future ambivalence.