We decided to ignore our usual Bank Holiday stay-at-home practice today and go out regardless. Monday is our domestic shopping day, and nothing was going to divert us from the routine.
Frankly, I was dreading it.
But, the roads were quiet, Swansea was close to empty and even the supermarket was pretty close to Sunday levels. Clearly, the masses had decided to take advantage of a lovely sunny day and had herded themselves off to the seaside. Or stayed a’bed.
The pollen invasion has switched frequency and I now have a permanent resin reaction in my nose, slightly burning, sore lungs, and eyes that will cry copious tears at the least excuse. I’ve been recommended to try using a soft facial filter mask and shall get a pack next time I’m in Boots the Chemists. Might be too late for this year but there’s always next.
On the bright side, the last time I experienced pollen attack at this level of intensity it was followed by a glorious summer.
Which does sound awfully nice.
Graham’s set his sights on a 1960s tile-topped coffee table, declaring it to be beautiful. His eyes and mine behold it differently, I’m sad to say, and to me the 12 tiles comprising the top are boring and mechanical in the extreme, rather like something you’d draw on a dull Sunday afternoon with a kid’s Spirograph set. I shall have to find a gentle, non-confrontational way of persuading him to a different course; if I fail I shall have to throw myself on the floor and lay there kicking and howling until my view prevails.
