Day 81/183: Shed’s dead, baby. Shed’s dead.
The bloke knocked down the old shed the weekend before last to make way for the new shed. The Polaroid above is in one of two pretty paper notebooks that the bloke brought back on his last trip to Delhi before the lockdown. I take a pair of Polaroids every few days, and file them to make a Covid diary for each of the children as a memento of this peculiar time.
Here you can a very happy man in his fancy metal shed. It has power sockets and light switches and a work bench. We celebrated the new shed’s arrival with our first takeaway food in 2.5 months, which included our first chips and ice cream (not consumed simultaneously) in the same duration. This is because we don’t currently have a functioning freezer, for reasons too dull to elucidate. The takeaway was from our local pub, which has just reopened for said purpose. Anyway, we wolfed down our burgers and chips and gobbled up our desserts with indecent haste. Food that someone else had made has never tasted so delicious.
Finally, here is a photo of Telstar on the wooden bench in our garden, taken by the bloke with his fancy new iPhone.
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