Sunday 21st April
06:00 - Jolly Molly's up and banging about.
The wash basin joins in with a resonant gurgle that starts after five minutes of being drained.
I suffer these noises for two hours - then choose to appear for breakfast at 08:30. She's waiting for her baby, making sure he gets enough to eat.
Jolly Molly has invited friends over for Sunday Afternoon Tea.
Jolly Molly says everything's ready. "I prepared it all before we drove over. We need a quart of milk" [That's 1.13l]
"Buying food on a Sunday! What an evil thin to make me do!" I complain.
"But we need these things for our visitors!" she pleads.
The local Tesco's obliges. I also buy some fresh food, ensuring we have an edible menu option for our guests.
16:00 and Jolly Molly's friend Marjory arrives with her daughter Elizabeth. Lots of reminiscences. They were both young teachers working together at the beginning of World War 2. We all enjoy tea in the sun room.
Jolly Molly has prepared the meal. It was actually prepared a couple of days
previously. The meal includes tinned puke, sold as tinned potato salad. Is this the 3rd year this has been sprung on me? Anyway her
visitors and I all shun the yellow mush. The fruit salad prepared 3 days before has begun to ferment.
Jolly Molly complains to Marjory that all her friends at the sheltered accommodation are dying like flies, and some more will have gone by the time she gets back there.
"What do you expect if you live in a place like that!" Marjory
replies with brutal honesty. We young ones snigger.
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