Monday, 15 June 2020

SHMOCKDOWNTONABBEY

being as it is now day trillion and two in Lockdown I thought I might persuade myself to try and remember how to type.  Having managed to (yet again) cut the tip of my index finger down to the quick while performing some task long forgotten since it was over 12 hours ago, this is proving quite challenging.  Not challenging in the same way as, for example, pulling down a statue and rolling it to the river might be, although I feel I might rise to that one, not as challenging as signing dozens of online petitions while simultaneously managing not to allow my eye/brain focus on the horrific images of the things that I am attempting to ban, enforce, join, add my voice to etc.  What a pathetic way to protest you might think ( but, Dear Friend, there are few Black Lives Matter demonstrations in this village - indeed, it was only a few several years ago that the lady for whom I "cleaned", Let us call her "Joyce" because that is her name, received a telephone call from a neighbour, "Sheila" who apparently lost no BT Friends and Family Rate minutes in imparting the decree that Joyce was to instruct me to Shut and LOCK the doors and windows because another "friend" had telephoned her and said that there was a "big Black Man wandering around the village!"  Joyce duly, and with much gasping and swooning, relayed the instructions to me.  I asked "Joyce" whether the "big Black Man" in the communique was likely to be the guy outside up a ladder changing the street lights wearing a very distinctive East Lindsey District Council jacket?  I was told that you can "never be too careful" and to lock the doors and head for the underground bunker straightaway".....    This episode concluded with me saying something along the lines that my Partner's mother, who had died when he was a toddler, had been from South Africa and that he definitely had "African ancestry".   "Ohhh, " she said, "I didn't want to say, but I knew he was something, I just didn't know what!"....  Later "Sheila" came over to visit to make sure that Joyce had survived the rape and pillage....  "I am not a racist, I have that new doctor at the surgery, I can nearly understand every word he says!"   - the new Doctor speaks perfect Oxbridge English.
However, I digress, what I meant to say is, there is little point in my bending a BLM knee on a Thursday night due to geographical restrictions.  Hashtag- there in spirit.

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