Deedee's Blog: More tales from isolation

Hello loves. No “ooooh” from me today, as I’m saving my breath. You never know when that nasty virus will come and take your breath away, do you? It’s a serious business this Covid-19 malarkey, especially if you’re elderly and vulnerable. “Lockdown lunacy” my son keeps calling it, no idea where he's got that from, and frankly I think he’s talking twaddle. When you look at the number of deaths per population it doesn’t always seem so serious, but the clever people at Cleveleys News that let me write this blog (lovely lads, I say lads, they’re probably retired but still younger than me) pointed out last week that when you look at the numbers of people in hospital in comparison to those coming out of hospital alive, the ratio isn’t good at all. It’s the old and vulnerable that get hospitalised with this, and despite the best efforts of our lovely NHS (I always give them my clap you know), once you’re poorly enough to be in there, the odds aren’t good. Keep isolated, that's what I say.

I hope you've all been joining in with the weekly clap for the NHS and other key workers. It's a time each week when everybody in the country can unite to clap their hands, beep their car horns and set off fireworks in appreciation of the doctors and nurses who are busy putting their lives at risk many miles away and completely out of earshot. So what if it wakes up all the sleeping babies in the neighbourhood and sets dogs off barking? We're doing this for the brave people who can't hear it, and those who can hear it don't have any grounds for complaint whatsoever.

Oooooooooh (sorry that one was involuntary) but have you seen some of the idiots on the prom? Goodness gracious Gertrude, they must be fifty shades of mental! I went out for my daily constitutional and a jogger ran right past me, breathing, he was! Breathing!! And them joggers breathe twice as fast as anyone else so just imagine those Wu-Flu particles flying towards me at breakneck speed! I’m surprised I wasn’t struck down on the spot. Then there’s the cyclists whizzing past as they come up behind me, I don’t think cyclists are very hygienic at the best of times as they don’t appear to wear underwear. Coronavirus can last 9 days on plastic so goodness only knows how long it lasts on Lycra. I can’t believe Boris now says that we can have “unlimited exercise”, these buffoons are going to be jogging all blimmin’ day!

The one good thing to come out of this isolation though is that nature seems to be sorting itself out and lots of things are returning to their natural state. The sea is blue again, the air is cleaner, and even the grass seems a little bit greener too. Pity the same can’t be said about my stools - nothing natural about them at the moment I’m afraid. Probably all the bread and pasta I’m eating. Wiping up is taking forever, it’s coming out like silt. The cheap and nasty Lidl toilet paper doesn’t help either, I keep going at it and going at it… honestly, it’s like digging an Anderson shelter with a teaspoon. Funny that their ‘Mr Choc’ range of chocolate bars are such good quality while their loo-roll is as bad as this.

Well, as the Eskimo chef said, “whale meat again”. That’s “we’ll meet again” but said a funny way. Byeeeeee!