Last of the Christmas Tea

A bit of a lazy day - for her, because she has no choice, for me, well, I have to be on hand! Yes, that’s it. My scrieving has now meandered its way to October which is when I actually started writing. Ah yes, the first sixteen day temporary lockdown. I remember it like it was yesterday. Because it’s not much bloody different.
The patient meanwhile receives advice from a professional. And, more valuably, a pile of painkillers. We decide to watch this Scotland v Ireland rugby thing. Of course, having spent ourselves managing to level the scores at 24-all with five minutes to go, we concede a penalty. Rubbish, so it is.
What other news? “Third waves” of the virus sweeping across mainland Europe, and a vigil for Sarah Everard on Clapham Common broken up with unnecessarily heavy handed policing. Unnecessarily, in my judgement, but not Ms Dick's. And who am I to judge? Correct. I am the judge.