keeping myself busy
May 2nd 2021
I’ve been trying to get back into my old routine.
I’m doing a bit of yoga regularly every morning.
That wasn’t so easy when the Baby was around.
It liked to push me over when I was trying to balance.
We used to have a good laugh together, lying in a heap on the floor.
I think Georgina the Yoga Rabbit is pleased that I’m getting back in the swing of it.
I’ve been doing a bit of cleaning too. About time, really.
I suppose it’s the same for anyone with a young child in the house.
You don’t want to get out a bucket of soapy water and risk it being spilt all over the place.
When I was sweeping, I’d get a nice pile of dust ready to collect up in the dustpan, and then the Baby would come and jump in it.
So cleaning is definitely an easier task now.
I made another batch of brownies for Bunce and Snowy.
I’d run out of cocoa, so they had to be a different sort of brownie. Not as brown as usual.
Monkey says that Bunce and Snowy are a lot better now.
He takes them out to sit in the onion patch. He believes that breathing in the onion fumes will be good for them.
They’re still quite weak.
Poor Monkey is exhausted, trying to keep their farm going single-handed.
I’m still hunting for my great-grandfather’s pocket-watch.
I looked everywhere beginning with A, and B, and C, but it wasn’t in any of those places.
D was hard work. I thought there was just a chance that the watch could have fallen down the drain.
It definitely was time to clear out the drain.
I found a number of pencils. They needed a good wash after I fished them out.
It seems funny that I’d have dropped so many of them down the drain without noticing.
It couldn’t have been the Baby, could it?
Yes, it must have been the Baby. It did enjoy posting things through holes.
The little rascal! It must have had such a lot of fun.
No wonder the sink has been draining so slowly.
But no watch.
I checked on all the doors, because most of them have hooks that a pocket-watch could hang from.
The Stork’s hook is still empty.
The Stork said he’d come back. But it’s been a long time now.
I don’t have a desk, or a divan or a davenport, or a daybed.
Then I remembered my chest of drawers. I forgot it when I was checking all the Cs.
I can’t remember what I keep in there.
I think the Baby must have been here. It did like tearing up paper.
It seems to have made nests in all the drawers, and buried things in them.
Here’s the egg-timer. And the book of tongue-twisters. I wondered where that had gone.
And here’s a pocket-watch. Wherever did the Baby find that?
But this pocket-watch hasn’t got a key-hole. I think you wind it up with the knob. This must be my great-great-aunt’s pocket-watch.
I’ll have to keep on looking for the other one.
I’d better check through the torn paper before I throw it away.
Lots of election leaflets. I never saw those when they arrived.
Of course it is very crucial to take part in the local elections, but don’t they know that teddies don’t get a vote?
It’s very frustrating. We’ll be as much affected by the results as anyone else.
Points and Ruffy will be out campaigning, and I think Jenny’s been doing some telephone canvassing.
I suppose I should do something like that, really.
Here’s my Xenakis music, that I played as a duet with Lopsy. I was wondering where that had gone.
I’ll try and reassemble this crossword.
ring ring ring ring
There’s the telephone.
Was “fondest regards” appropriate? I’m not sure.
I’ve checked my paws, and I don’t think they look green. Oh dear, poor Lopsy.
Now, let’s see what this paper says.
It’s from little Strawberry.
Well, that would have been nice.
The Baby would have loved playing in Strawberry’s garden.
Oh dear, what a pity I didn’t get to see this in time.
I should have tried to take the Baby out more.
It must have been very bored here. No wonder it took to shredding all the paper.
I wish… Well, it’s no use desponding.
I’ll go and visit Strawberry anyway. It will do me good to get out.
I haven’t visited anyone for more than a year. But Ruffy says it is allowed, if we’re out of doors, and spaced out.
I feel a bit nervous.
Of course I’ve talked to people on the telephone, and on those clever Apps, but I’m out of practice at real-life conversations.
When Um was here, we didn’t really manage to converse.
I’ve not been to Strawberry’s house before, but it’s only up the road. Better wear my mask.
I feel like a giant. It’s an unusual experience for me.
Strawberry’s laid out her best linen tablecloth on the grass, and she’s brewed up an apple-blossom-petal tea.
It doesn’t actually taste of anything much, but I appreciate the kind effort.
It’s quite nice to take part in a social event.
Strawberry’s shown me her vegetable patch, and we’ve talked about this and that.
It’s not so very difficult.
But should I have taken Strawberry a little gift? Not flowers, because she has plenty of those.
And perhaps I talked too much. Or maybe not enough.
Now that I’m back home I feel a little lonesome.
I should be practising my triangle, ready for a duet with my cousin Peter on his penny whistle, but I don’t feel like it.
I wonder if the Baby will learn to play an instrument. Percussion of some kind, perhaps.
I’m going to play my bagpipes.
Don’t you think the bagpipes make a nice comforting sound?
unaccustomed sociability
15th May 2021
I’m getting used to being on my own again.
I’m not feeling quite so bleak and chilly. Now and then I wear my anorak without the hood up.
In some ways it’s quite nice to have the house to myself. Peaceful, and I can be as selfish as I like.
I wish Um and the Baby hadn’t left, but I appreciate being able to sleep all night without being bounced on, and not having to tidy up all the time.
The Baby did like to scatter things around.
It seemed very particular about how many beans should be in each line, clever little thing.
I never needed to watch the television, with the Baby’s ingenious antics to watch.
Not that I have a television anyway.
Of course it’s good that I can play my triangle without the Baby wanting to swing on it, but I miss the little scamp.
My cousin Peter and I have been playing a Zoom duet together.
Peter chose a sad song. It ends with both of us full of tears.
It made me resolve to take life easy, as the grass grows on the weirs.
Does grass grow on weirs?
Bimbo is pleased with our recording.
It wouldn’t have been easy to achieve that with the Baby around.
That’s not to say that I wouldn’t be delighted if they turned up on the doorstep wanting to live here again. On the contrary, I would be extremely happy.
Ding-dong
Oh, there’s the doorbell!
Could it be Um and the Baby? No, don’t be silly, Tom. They’ve gone, and they won’t be coming back.
It can’t be a canvasser, because the election’s over.
Not likely to be the postperson with a parcel, though you never know.
Well, blow me down! Look who’s here!
It’s Kimbleton Tardigrade!
I met them at the seaside last year when I was on my great cycling expedition.
I thought it was just a holiday friendship. I never expected to see them again.
I wonder if I’ve got anything I can give them for supper. They probably aren’t used to eating condensed milk out of the tin.
I wish I could ask Ruffy what he thinks about it. He reads all the latest medical research.
Oh dear oh dear.
I’ll open the windows, and keep well away from Kimbleton.
I am quite vulnerable, and I know how nasty The Virus is, from when Bimbo was so ill last year, and then poor Bunce and Snowy still aren’t quite right, though they’re now managing to help a little with the farm work.
Monkey says the weather isn’t good enough for convalescents to be out of doors, so he just lets them do what they can while tucked up in bed.
Ruffy tells me that there are New Variants arriving as well, so we do still have to be careful.
But then, it is also important to be hospitable.
Oh dear oh dear, I don’t like having to make difficult decisions in a hurry.
At least I’ve had my first vaccination. I wonder if Kimbleton has had theirs?
I should put on my mask, really, but perhaps it would look rude, as though I think Kimbleton is germy.
I wonder what a t’rung is. A mat for dancing on, I suppose.
Or perhaps a sort of basket, like a trug.
What am I going to give Kimbleton to eat?
I know. I still have a bit of that lentil mush that I cooked. It was quite tasty.
Kimbleton did a quick tap-dance on the t’rung, and I realised that to play along with that, I’d need a very delicate silvery touch on my triangle.
It’s lovely to play live music again with another musician. I’d forgotten how enjoyable it is.
Kimbleton dances beautifully. Who would have thought a tardigrade could be so nimble?
It’s quite hard to keep up with their twinkling toes.
Imagine what fun the Baby could have with an instrument that you can jump on.
Now, what on earth am I to suggest we do next? Is Kimbleton expecting to stay the night? I wonder if they’ll be happy just to sit around, or whether I should think of ways to entertain them.
I’m afraid I’ve forgotten how sociability works.
Peaceful.