Rosemary picker

Another dreich day with a cold north easterly. Honestly, if this virus lockdown thing goes on much longer I’ll be forced to start filling notebooks with hourly weather observations. As I did when I was twelve.
As it was, there was a brief spike in the excitement of the day when I strolled to the local Scotmid for those Friday essentials: beers and a Guardian. As I always get the Friday copy for film reviews and cinemas are all closed, it’s maybe not the most essential item. Beer, though, yes, for the boys were gathering for a teatime pint and blether. None of us had anything to report, though I did congratulate McC on posting the video of the iPhone ringing. Every time I watched it, I laughed again. With all this deprivation I’m turning into one of those early viewers of cinema, y’know, when a horse galloped towards the screen, they would throw themselves out their seats. Or perhaps a ’native’ (as we used to call ‘em) seeing themselves in a mirror for the first time. 
OK, enough, time to go out and see whether the barometer is rising, the hour is almost up.