I live alone so in some ways self-isolation is a bit more of the same. I can go to bed when I want and get up when I want and slob about in old t shirts and trackie bottoms – so no change there then! I’m saving money by not going to the hairdresser, going out to lunch or buying any new clothes. I’m a bit worried that I might frighten my grandchildren when we FaceTime so I make an effort to at least brush my hair in case they ring when I’m not expecting them. As one of the ‘worried well’ I am constantly checking to see what symptoms I’ve got. So far – none. I do have chronic rhinitis, which makes my nose run whenever I go out into the fresh air and I cough occasionally. I’m not going out but, at the moment, I reckon I could clear a shop by just clearing my throat. A friend of mine was on a train the other day when a man started to cough and the entire carriage glared at him as he gasped ‘biscuit’. A crumb had gone down the wrong way. Luckily we Brits don’t go in for lynching – much.
We certainly all need a laugh to lift our spirits so I thought I would try and find some silly old jokes that make me laugh and put them into this blog.
I like this one – black humour but I think it’s funny.
Two hunters are out in the woods when one of them collapses. He’s not breathing so his friend calls 911. ‘My friend is dead! What should I do?” The operator replies, “Calm down sir, first make sure that he’s really dead.” There’s a silence, then a loud bang. Back on the phone, the guy says, “Ok, now what?”
And this one – a bit surreal!
And the Lord said unto John “Come forth and you will receive eternal life” but John came fifth and he won a toaster.
And probably my favourite joke of all time from Bob Monkhouse:
“I want to die peacefully in my sleep, like my father. Not screaming and terrified like his passengers.”
And finally, a topical one for Corona virus shortages:
“The last time I was in Spain I got through six Jeffrey Archer novels. I must remember to take enough toilet paper next time.”
And now for something completely different! Perhaps we should use this time for a bit of self improvement, heaven knows in my case there’s plenty of room for it. I am going to try and become more tolerant (Hark! Is that my family sniggering and muttering ‘as if?’) For starters I must stop my tendency to correct peoples’ texts. I am not the apostrophe police. Channelling my inner Grumpy Old Woman. Sitting at home shouting at the television/radio. I heard a woman on the Radio 4 state this afternoon that there were only 100 grey or English partridge (our native bird) left in this country and yet according to the Game Conservancy there are approximately 43,000 breeding pairs. Slight discrepancy there! On the other hand, the ‘new and improved’ tolerant me thinks it is possible that I misheard her so before I write to BBC as Disgusted from Hampshire I need to check that. But then we do have the ultimate irritation. The Smug – they dwell amongst us and they will always rise! You know who you are – the self-isolaters who have been getting up at 6.30 as usual, washing their hair, putting on full make-up and then downstairs to bake a cake before breakfast to take to the local old folks’ home! Their children are doing their schoolwork and after they have finished that they are knitting blankets for the homeless. Daddy has painted the garden shed and is busy making lovely educational wooden toys for the children. I don’t think so – they are probably at the gin like everyone else! Tolerance can only take me so far!