Dearie me.

Dearie, dearie me.

We might not be having our finest hour.

Today’s announcement was not brilliant news for somebody whose entire income comes from the pockets of drunk party-goers.

As no doubt you know by now,  the Government has struck a blow against the Bat Flu by telling everybody not to go to the pub.

Pubs, it appears, are potential Hotbeds Of Disease, which we knew already, you ought to see the glass-washing arrangements some of them have. However now Bat Flu lurks in gloomy corners, watching and waiting, and might leap on the unwitting drinker and follow him home, to infect his family and work colleagues. Stay Clean, the Government has exhorted. Stay Safe. Stay At Home.

Fortunately for us, it seems that there are still some people who either have not heard, which is not impossible given the level of mobile phone signal in the Lake District, or who do not care. I think that the latter is probably the most likely, given the general level of social responsibility amongst some of our customer base. Let me remind you, we are talking about people who think nothing of pooing on the pavements.

Actually, I think that probably tonight people have come out for a last drunken blitz before they retreat into their monastic cells and contemplate the Universe soberly for the next three months. There are still people in the restaurants, and a handful in the pubs, which have not yet closed their doors.

There are not very many of them, but I have made a fiver so far, which is a start.

All the same we are staring into the void. We will, of course, still have Mark’s rural broadband income, but even that has slowed right down because of the impossibility of getting the parts that they need, most of which come either from mainland Europe or China.

It is not the first void into which I have stared, and you will be pleased to hear that I do not feel daunted yet. We will manage, of course, and actually at the moment I am feeling quite cheerful about the new challenge. It will be brilliant to have lots of spare time to do things. Mark is already planning a sort of Dig For Victory at the field, planting peas and beans and carrots in case we start to starve to death but not for a few months. He thought the children might like to help when they come home. 

I  wonder how they will manage to contain their delight.

Before the news came out of course the day went along much as usual, except that whilst Mark was busy doing conservatory things, I cleaned the taxis out.

I was partly inspired to do this by Mark’s taxi being so filthy that I would not have got in it even as his wife and even if I did not think I might catch Bat Flu. Bat Flu was only one of many things that could potentially have been caught from his taxi, probably Hepatitis or Cholera. It was awful.

He has been using it to bring firewood from the farm, and sacks of well-rotted muck for the garden. Of course the muddy dogs have been in it, and there was the sack of seaweed that he collected on the beaches of caravan sites in his lunch hour, and let us not forget that there is always his oily tool kit.

It was not the sort of vehicle you might sit in whilst wearing your best dress, which is not a good look for a taxi, so today I cleaned it.

I cleaned it really thoroughly. It took ages.

Then I washed all the surfaces down with a solution of Dettol, not because I thought that it needed it, but because I thought customers might feel reassured and untroubled by fears of Bat Flu if they could smell the gentle wafts of disinfectant.

After that I cleaned mine, which hardly took any time at all. I did the same Dettol wash, and it is making my picnic taste vaguely of hospitals, although that might be the home-made hand sanitizers.

Mark rendered one of the conservatory walls, and I made some more soap, by way of creating a stockpile. We have got lots now, and I put Tea Tree oil in it to make it smell properly medical. We will be able to maintain our sanitary arrangements for some time yet.

I am considering methods of manufacturing loo roll.  

I will let you know.

Have a picture of some soap.