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Company at last

1 June, in the year of our Lord 2020

Up at a half-past 5 a’clock, for a poor night’s sleep it being uncommon warm, the air as heavy as a blanket and suffocatinge, and I not able to settle; so to my ablutions very betimes and earlie with the cat to our breakfasts. After, to my collection of flowers which I have and are of some raritie with pretty blooms, that I keep in the garden in a house made of glass, the flowers called bollackworts for they like it warm and humid and are sensitive. The morning spent with some watering and a little work in there which pleased me, but even at 10 it hot again outside, these the hottest days I think we have had this year and many now without rain so that I fear for a Drout.
  The First Lord determined the plan for his Easement to be carried out today, and the Secretarie for the Plague at his side with him in this, though whether he be the Secretary for the Plague or against it I sometimes cannot tell. Many still vexed concerning the comings and goings, for no man can bear another man to lay down a Law that he flouteth himselfe, and I all the while with a worm of worry, that people are not doing what they are told because they are being told what to do badly, and this may rebound on us all. Even so, after dinner for a walk through fields, M. Jones alongside whom I have not seen at all these last 10 weekes, our only colloquy by the Messenger, so our spirits lifted by the sun’s warmth and the warmth of companionship too. To a country lane and stepping stones across a stream, the water very low, and Mr. Jones his poudle with him, which is a Standard model without voice recognition or cruise control. After, I with an attacke of my allergie of the grasses, eyes red and watering and an itch for an hour or more, and my nose too, with sneezing fit to raise the very roof. At supper in the garden where by and by Mr. R. Owen and gladdened by wine and cheered with merrie discourse, Mr. Jones regaling of a scale model of a truck he hath made entirely of wood from a kit, which is of such detail and Precision and of so many pieces it has taken all of Lock Up to do it, but now done and very fine except it should move of its own accorde by means of stretchy loops of twine and it does not, or does not yet for tho’ he says he doth not mind it does not move, I suspect he does and that he will make it to do what it should. And so to bed.

By andywmacfarlane

I am a retired medic who likes messing around with a bit of writing, and friends seemed to like my social media postings of "Samuel Pepys: The Covid Diaries". So I'm having a go at blogging them.

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