The Jab

The day of the big jab, administered by Dr Hamish, retired GP and gent. Can I take a selfie, I asked, as he prepared for the plunge. As long as I’m not in it he said. My kids said they wanted it, I quickly lied. Afterwards as he gave me the post-jab chat he said, you must have very strange children. You reckon, I queried back, haven’t you had many people doing selfies? No, none at all! 
And it was gorgeous day out - 14ºC despite a NW breeze. NW eh, perfect then for making an assault on Inchkeith with Rog. Apparently it’s on his bucket list. No more! Ticked off. A beer on the way over, tea and tunncocks on the way back. And a bit of a breeze - one reef in was definitely required. 
And I bumped into the Gruppenfuhrer; when I gave him my considered opinion he nearly exploded with rage and stamped off. OK, I’ll keep it to myself then. Truth to power, eh? 
Back to see the patient who languishes indoors. Not a lot that can be done. I’m reduced to filling hot bottles and feeling a bit helpless. My prediction of being over the worst of it in 48 hours seems to be a bit optimistic...