This afternoon’s scheduled garden maintenance has been scuppered by the lower back trauma consequential of previous horticultural chores. Subsequently, I’m sitting at my patio table accompanied by an amalgam of laptop, sporadic muscle spasms and frustration one of my lockdown pastimes has been furloughed.

If it wasn’t bad enough enduring COVID-19 induced lockdown, now I’m forced to abide it bearing physical discomfort, bereft of one of the few activities which’s occupied my time during incarceration.

All I can say is thank god for still being able to write unabated, and count my blessings the pandemic hasn’t deprived me of the capacity to spread marmite upon my toast.

Footnote – Clearly, when I wrote ‘all I can say’ above, it’s meant figuratively, not to be taken literally. I do possess the cognitive wherewithal to utter thousands of words. For instance, I can also utilise locutions such as creme de menthe, arbitrary and flange.

As with many episodes within the last decade, writing has been my saviour. Penmanship a principle protagonist in redeeming me from a depression sourced gutter. My salvation during heart attack, my dad’s year long cancer fight to which he ultimately succumbed and yours truly’s gastric bleed.

The act of quilling on parchment, also a trusty staff for dealing with an unwanted, but necessary, departure from my marital home. My estranged wife unable to find it in her heart to provide even the tiniest modicum of care and affection, despite me undergoing two life threatening illnesses within three months of each other.

This utter coldness towards her husband, who’d spent hundreds of hours in oncologist waiting and consulting rooms during her nine year period of living with cancer, a legacy from growing up in an environment with the same icy relationship practises. Her childhood home so cold and unwelcoming I’d posit they could’ve saved the cost of buying a refrigerator.

This domain a heady brew of toxicity, negativity and thick-shittery……. As you can tell, though, thankfully I’ve escaped from that relationship without a hint of bitterness, or indeed a semblance of mental scarring.

I’m only kidding, they’re really a wonderful brood. I’m sure they’ve a wealth of hosting and family bonding skills; I’ve just been unlucky not to have witnessed them once in thirty years of knowing them.

Before proceeding, yours truly wants to make it clear that I’m aware my polemic towards my wife and her family is utterly classless. Airing your dirty washing in public isn’t something to be proud of; on the contrary such tawdry revenge techniques are a shameful acts, not even worthy of the playground.

In reality, I honestly bear the brood’s remaining trinity no ill will, and to be honest really shouldn’t afford them any mind. The above is merely a mischievous flight of fancy on my part. I’m an individual with great humanity who loves everyone, apart from the ones who take out restraining orders……. Oh, and Tufty Brown who stole my hamster in 1977!….. See what I mean about not bearing grudges (cough, cough)!

Right I’m off to confess my sins to a glass of pinot Grigio…… Stay safe troops!!