The Long Weekend

Time was when a long weekend was a glorious thing to be savoured, appreciated, wallowed in. It would come at the end of a bank of working days when it was a relief to switch off the computer and make plans. But that was then. Nowadays a weekend can be a trial, when two short days can expand into the longest time imaginable and hang around like compost flies on an airless summer day. I endured one of those a few weeks ago but its effects didn't end on the Sunday night. I was still feeling crushed several days later, and being cheerfully urged to "join groups, make new friends" only made things worse, as did the thoughtless "Have a good weekend!" when I patently wasn't going to. Anyway, that's my beef over, and I did recover my good humour eventually. It's impossible to stay miserable when the countryside is springing into life, small green shoots of hope popping up in the hedgerows and the soil.

This last Sunday I was looking forward to lunch and an afternoon of bridge at Judy and David's, now that Caroline is back from America, but it nearly didn't happen. An email from Caroline on Saturday evening checking that we were still on to meet at my place threw me into confusion, and I quickly rang the others to see if they too thought it was to be here. Yup, they said cheerfully, 12.30 at yours. Aaaaargh! On my way to the cinema a little later I stopped off at Waitrose to buy the ingredients for Sunday lunch, all the time thinking: what if I'd driven to Wilby, anticipating roast beef and Yorkshire pudding, and they'd all come here to an empty house, no food anywhere, no welcome, no comfort? In the end we had a lovely time, all pleased to see Caroline in her trendy new American clothes, and looking so well. She's moving up t'Midlands in the summer, and will be missed.

Caroline looking glamorous

I finally got round to having my flu jab on the last day of February, to the consternation of the Boots staff, and then worried I'd left it too late and would probably get flu while I waited 14 days for it to kick in. Why did I not have it in the autumn? Good question. I have no logical answer. But so far I've stayed healthy this winter, and I think the powerful probiotic medicine I've been taking since September has kicked my immune system into some semblance of working order, and it's been protecting me. Yesterday I sat for three hours in a CAB training session, a small, warm room where someone sneezed non-stop and failed adequately to catch the germs in the tiny tisssues she used. I could have throttled her, but instead sprayed my nasal passages with First Defence, and prayed. Really irresponsible behaviour. Later in bridge I obsessively washed my hands as often as I could, trying my hardest to make myself repulsive to bugs. I should have concentrated on the cards more, but you can't do everything. Helen was very forgiving.