It’s strange what a mix of hypochondria, selfishness and what might pass for common sense under the circumstances does to one’s life. Living in swine-flu mecca Dunoon and with trips to London and Tuscany in the next few weeks, I would prefer not to be ill – not till the holidays have been taken and enjoyed. So I find myself shopping anywhere but the worthy Dunoon Co-op – because it is currently the only supermarket until you get to Greenock (east) or Lochgilphead (north, and then down a bit) because Somerfield is undergoing a lengthy gestation as Morrison’s and won’t be open for over a month. As the Co-op is somewhat small, it tends to be hideously crowded, bringing about an unsought intimacy between customers – so I avoid it like the plague with which I imagine it overflowing.
And it’s as well it’s been fine weather, for we have been able to disport ourselves in the great outdoors where the bugs, presumably, are dissipated in the ether. Today, f’rinstance, we walked along Loch Striven for a couple of hours without meeting a soul – and only one car, miraculously. We continue to hope, of course, in the purity and standoffishness of Episcopalians, whom we expect to be bug-free because of not mixing with football supporters and their rellies, though in these egalitarian days you can never tell. Choir practice for tonight was cancelled, because we reckoned that if one of our choristers had newly had the flu and others were connected with schools that had been closed because of the bug, it was silly to meet when we didn’t have to.
In fact, it’s all been a bit anti-social. However, if I can get off to London for a visit in the next coupla days, and if we can all go on our Italian holiday in July, it will have been worth it. Then, maybe, a party. With the afflicted and their loved ones. A cough-in, in fact. Cheers!