Month: September 2020

This is a half year for Coronaposting for me, so it seems a good point at which to leave off the ’Rona-based titling. Things have changed, and they’re not done changing, and by the time anything settles down (hint: not before Brexit and an effective vaccine, so far as I can tell) things will be different enough that it will make little sense to think of Life Before COVID-19 as ‘normal’ in any sense. That’s how it was; now we’re learning how it will be.

This morning, my whole body resisted the idea of running. Indeed, not just the idea, but the execution of running gave offence to my legs, back, even my shoulders, and my mood was none too cheery, either. A mile and a half came and, eventually, went, then the Morning Office and various online errands. Margaret met a furiously intense deadline yesterday, so to celebrate she took me out to Rick’s for breakfast.

After that, I devoted myself to working on Ambrose for a while, doing some other odds and ends, some communication, and before you know it the afternoon was winding down. Pizza and Watchmen.

The temperatures were still warm this morning (12°, near optimum) at the time for my morning run. Then Morning Office, Mass, fruit breakfast, and to break up my concentration on Ambrose I strolled into town to buy some black trousers. Much to my shock, both of the traditional men’s clothiers in the city centre had only cursory offerings in black (if you can’t find black formal trousers in Oxford, where — I ask you — can you find them?). I reluctantly approached the Westgate, disliking shopping centres as I do, but when I stepped into Moss Bros., the manager greeted me warmly, showed me directly to the sort of trousers I was after, and offered a matching jacket to make a suit, all for less than I had expected to pay just for two pairs of trousers. I was so chuffed at this success, I would probably buy groceries from Moss Bros. if they offered them. If you go in, ask for Emily and tell her that the peculiar clergyman who bought a suit from her the other day sent you.

Meandered home for lunch, then realised that there were only two hours until the Sodality rosary (led by the Abp of York, our new patron). Then after rosary and chat with the Archbishop, I walked with Margaret down to Christ Church where we prayed Evensong with the returning choir (in remarkably good sound, considering that it’s just the beginning of the year for them). Then we visited the Subdean and Jamie in their resplendent new digs in Tom Quad, did our part to eliminate any risk of a wine surplus, and made our merry way home just in time to have a late snack and turn in. A lovely day in almost every way.

I was wrong: the temperature this morning at my run was 15°. Morning Office, Mass, hot breakfast, and back to Ambrose.

That sums up my day, apart from a grocery trip. Margaret cobbled together some leftovers with a new veg protein product, and we watched a couple more episodes of Watchmen, with 8 Out of 10 Cats Does Countdown to cheer us before bed.

My morning run at a fresh but not chilly temperature, probably the warmest it’ll be till spring (alas); Morning Office; Mass; fruit breakfast; I sent off an examiner’s report and some corrections for proofs; more concentrated reading of Ambrose, really all Ambrose all day. Margaret baked jacket potatoes for dinner and went back to her work, and I watched and enjoyed Lady Bird.

Fruit breakfast, Morning Office, packing up in Wolverhampton, train home to Oxford, resting in the afternoon, short grocery trip, read some Ambrose, cooked dinner, and watched the first two episodes of the Watchmen television series — even more apposite these days than when it was first broadcast.

Morning Office, breakfast at the Premier Inn, errands run in Wolverhampton centre, afternoon with Damian and Fiona in Wombourne, back to watch some football and chat with the Feeneys (including Patrick), dinner, and back to the inn to fall fast asleep.

Closing in fast on a half-year of pandemic conditions here in Oxford!

Woke up early, ran a fresh mile-and-a-half, Morning Office, said the Mass (got a bit distracted, so almost sleep-walked in late), fruit breakfast with a smoothie by Margaret, fruit breakfast, Worked on various odds and ends, and at the end of the day grabbed the evening train to Wolverhampton, where we will visit Fr Damian and Fiona!

Woke up nice and early, ran my longer route, Morning Office, quick grocery run, hot breakfast (not usually on Thursday, but it’s my birthday), wander into town to find good bedclothes for Melanie, and perhaps new trousers for me (this hope was cruelly dashed by the three major department stores in Oxford). When I got back, I lent Margaret a hand with some writing, and polished some fountain pens.
Margaret made pasta with vegetable sauce for dinner, and we watched The Red Violin.

(I forgot to blog yesterday. As best I recall, my day involved morning run, Morning Office, Mass, hot breakfast, emotional backwash from the previous day’s interviews, reading proofs, miscellaneous reading, and dinner with friends.

Up early for my run, Morning Office, Mass, fruit breakfast, and then a marathon of [online video] interviews and assessments relative to a possible diagnosis of some of my peculiarities. Though the interviews were done by 15:30, they wiped out my day; it’s exhausting to sit through your life being cast in an unfamiliar perspective, sometimes with brutally abrupt forced-choice personality inventories.
We scrabbled for dinners from what was lying about in the fridge, watched The Kennel Murder Case, and an episode of 8 Out of 10 Cats Does Countdown.

I slept later than was ideal, so there wasn’t good time for running before setting up before saying Mass, so I said the Morning Office, then went to Mass, fruit breakfast, and settled in to work. As it turns out, I wasn’t concentrating well, so I finished up Job in Legends, then launched into Moses In Egypt. That took much of the afternoon, at the end of which we ate some of Margaret’s mushroom paté, a creamy vegetable soup, and gluten-free naan. We watched the film adaptation of The Sweeney, and retired for the evening feeling a sense of impaired justice.

Between chilly and fresh, so that with a hoodie is too warm, and without is distinctly cool, I took the longer course without timing it. I had some aches and pains at first, but these diminished as I ran. On the other hand, I was relieved to get home.
Morning Office, hot breakfast, off to Mass, requested my absentee ballot (the short-fingered vulgarian will not be re-elected if I can impede it), lunch and resumed Legends work on Job. I almost finished Job, the finish line was in sight, but I didn’t quite get there; I spent a long-ish interval looking back at web evidence for my primary and secondary school days. I’ll mop that up tomorrow and resume Elijah and James.
Margaret made stuffed peppers for dinner, and we watched the Watchmen film with a view toward watching the television series later.