Pandemic diary 62: The rhubarb run

Today I delivered food to four local households. I say food. It was rhubarb. Enjoy your sour and stringy crumbles, friends. Smother it with custard then kill it with fire.

Thanks

It was nice to say doorstop hellos to various rhubarb-lovers.

It was also quite special to meet up with my brother for the first time since February today. We visited a park I'd never been to before: Malvern and Brueton Park in Solihull, which is half way between our two houses and has a lake and a river.

Wikipedia tells me it is 130 acres of U-shaped parkland joining two parcels of land in 1963. It was very busy and the car park was full but the crowds pretty much stayed in the park area so we had the woodland, wildlife area – the most interesting bit –mostly to ourselves.

Of course, at the first bit of desire line path that disappeared into a hole in the hedge, we veered off and ended up completely outside the designated park on some kind of open ground near a road called Lovelace Avenue! You can't get too lost in a city though and so we did a perimeter walk and ended up (eventually) back in the park.

Lots of catching up on family news and only a small political clash on whether Dominic Cummings should resign or not for breaching lockdown. Obviously I'm right and he should go but he won't as he's the PM's right arm and there is a different set of easier lockdown rules for those in power.

I didn't take a single photo today so here's one left over from Friday when I took a nap in the garden. There have been a lot of naps during lockdown – possibly from all the walking and sunshine, possibly from the brain-frying nature of trying to process what is happening, possibly from the antihistamines for hay fever season. That isn't a blanket by the way – it's a ginormous scarf.

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Commission/hire me: fiona [at] fionacullinan.com

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