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miranda spary 4d196d30b5

In case you hadn’t already worked it out, I only got this job through nepotism. My little brother Ferg let me bully him into agreeing I could write a weekly column and that he’d pay me a pittance for my efforts. Now the little…..has fired me. Well, he said I can keep the job, but he won’t pay me now. As they say, you get what you pay for, so remember this column is free. I’m wondering if there are enough housebound, bored to distraction locals out there to boost my readership?


Lockdown isn’t as awful as I’d thought. Our bubble contains 8 people but three of them are in isolation as they had been in Fiji. We can still yell abuse at each other from a distance which is pretty handy. My thoughts are with people who already have clean houses and immaculate gardens who must have nothing to do. Our house and garden are in a state of total shock - they are used to neglect and suddenly this whirlwind has hit their sleepy, dirty, happy selves. Ten years of dead flies and moths behind paintings and books have been done away with and inattentive weeds are finding themselves whipped out and left to die. At the end of each day, I’m trying to write down a list of things I have achieved and it’s quite surprising how much more can get done when you aren’t constantly popping out somewhere.


The only somewhere I’m popping to is letterboxes. Letterbox love is a thing now. I leave books and walnuts and fruit and plants in other people’s letterboxes, and I’m finding treasure in mine. The brilliant Oscar Rodwell from Bonz left me some of his merino facemasks which have a neat pocket to put top grade surgical filters in - I can see them being very useful in the ski season too, even without the filters as they keep the chin and nose cosy and warm. I’ve even had real mail - some with stamps, some handdelivered. My best treat was getting a text to say there was a hot cappucino waiting for me in a sterilised keepcup. I nearly fainted with joy.


Who thought going to the shop would be a treat? A chance to see other humans? Luckily there are home delivery services popping up everywhere, not just from the big supermarkets but also the fabulous Raeward Fresh.


Fresh plans for weddings and parties have had to be made - I am particularly partial to a good knees up and was very sorry there wasn’t a big shindig for Bob and Sue Berry’s 50th wedding anniversary on Saturday. To celebrate more quietly they bought a beautiful dandelion sculpture and Bob kindly planned to surprise his bride with dinner of barbequed muttonbird that he’d found in the very bottom of the freezer- possibly not everyone’s favourite meal, but Sue is a VERY tolerant wife (note to self…). Because of the famous smell of muttonbird cooking, he put the barbeque and gas bottle far from the house. Soon the smoke led him to realise there was a problem. Fully cremated muttonbirds meant slightly less festive, but more delicious eggs on toast for the big golden one. Happy 50th, Bob and Sue and hope we all get invited to the 100th!!