March 5th, 2020

Ghost Ships

"Can you hear Mr P clucking away?" says Ailz.

"I think you'll find that's water dripping off the eaves," I say. "Mr P, if he has any sense, will be keeping under cover."

The TV forecaster said we'd have light showers. They were wrong. Continuous downpour is more like it.

Matthew and his crew were supposed to be coming to erect fencing but the holes they'd drilled when they were last here (this job has been half-done for weeks) are full of water.

We're both a bit heavy-eyed this morning. My mother had us up in the night. By the time we reached her she'd forgotten why she'd been calling. "I don't like it when I don't know what's going on," she said. And then, after I'd pulled up a chair in order to provide a comforting presence, "Oh, what are you doing there?"

At least, with Matthew staying away, I'm not going to be required to socialise and make cups of tea. While I was eating breakfast I watched a video about ghost ships.