I realise I am getting to the point where although I care passionately about so much I am at the same time a bit vague, to put it politely. Earlier I was reading about a woman whose house was torn to shreds by a tornado. Not a poor person in the States but a prosperous, fortunate person writing about the awfulness of her experience in north west London. At one point she remarked that she couldn't find, 'a glass free spot for Doushka', and I assumed this was some new London expression for 'nor love nor money'. Turns out it was her pet dog.

Briefly. H needed to get some shoes so we went to the shop that for years had a window display of shoes and none inside. You weren't able to pick up the shoes as they were either in the shop window or out the back in boxes. Now they have shoes inside piled high on shelves. You can't touch the shoes without gloves so as you go in, like all the other shops here you get a pair of those plastic gloves for buying fruit and then it's OK. Except this shop had run out of said gloves and only had the plastic feet version, the ones used so that your and other people's feet won't ever touch the sacred inner sole of the footwear. I did all this and after about two minutes gave up as the foot gloves kept falling off and my hands became a sweaty mess. It was also a moment of switching languages when I remembered that gloves in Dutch, handschoenen, is believe it or not translated into English as 'shoes for hands'. 

Perhaps they want to discourage you from wearing masks in the UK because the billions of pounds spent on security cameras and so on will be rendered useless.

Feedback people! Feedback! Otherwise I am on my own here!!!

I'm such a nosey parker. I just want to know everything. I look at buildings and think, 'I want to go in and look around'. I love pushing my luck with people and asking them stuff. Today I peered into a hole in the ground that had some grating over it. I discovered it was a well. Apparently a 900 Arabic year old 'pozo', according to the plaque next to it. Amazingly it is still in use and irrigates the land here.

Since the quarantine started way back in the middle of March I have left the house about five times. My agorophobia has come back and my hand washing and fear of germs. If I had the money I would quite happily become a recluse. It is a regret that the government didn't furlough me as I would have been great at staying at home doing feck all. Just pass me that opium pipe!! Today I went out to meet a friend in a cafe and well, what can I say? First H prevented me from going out dressed along the lines of Howard Hughes with tissue boxes on my feet and other peculiar sartorial splendor. In the end I settled on some plastic gloves I knicked from the local supermarket and clothes I am willing to burn on return. What should have been a pleasant experience instead left me frazzled and fearful something undesirable would happen. In the space of an hour I managed to get accosted by a madman for money I no longer carry and then I got caught up in a demonstration of sorts in the main square led by the people who welcome refugees who were then interrupted by the lamest of far right protestors. There were about fifteen of them, the far right, and they looked like they were having a great time banging saucepans furiously. You know, talentless, no sense of rhythm but will do anything to get noticed. Trying to drown put any decent conversation the rest of us were having. Jealous probably. Wrapped in flags if you please. I suppose in case they forgot what nationality they were. Judging on their unhealthy vibe and that general ugliness the far right can never shake off, I doubt they would have been able to take anyone on if a fight or beauty contest broke out. There we were, the foreigners, the ones they think shouldn't be here. Romanians, Moroccans, Latin Americans, Chinese and me, all looking on bemused. Remember not that long ago they were telling us we would all come out of this lockdown as better people? Well it didn't take that long did it? Nothing has changed people, nothing has changed!! 

Remember that time I almost got arrested and my head kicked in for turning up at a far right rally dressed in a burka with a big, 'I Love Vox' placard. It doesn't take much does it? Well Mr V is now warning me not to go to tomorrow's with any of my 'funny' ideas.