Mr Two Jabs.

Saturday

The day started off bight enough but the brisk east wind was holding temperatures down. By 10 o’clock I had been to the shops for milk, did not need anything other than milk, but picked up a half-round of soda bread as a treat. Showered, changed I then presented myself at the local hospital for my second jab.

It was Saturday so it was not the highly efficient operation we saw the first time around, a skeleton staff. I recognised many in the line up on chairs along the corridor – over the 70s and second jab. The first time round it was in and out in around fifteen minutes, this time the best part of an hour, skeleton staff, and the old chestnut, computer problems. I was asked if I had any after-effects from the first dose, yes but nothing to write home to mummy about. Then a long talk on the possibilities of blood clotting and what to do if I had……. common sense stuff – too much information I would rather not know, ta anyway. I can not understand peoples reluctance to have a vaccination because of side effects, that may or may not cause death, would the alternative be better? I am only here because of a lot of very clever people that produced this vaccine, I will put my faith in their skills.

I arrived home and put the kettle on and popped one of the quarters of soda bread into the toaster. When eaten and the tea drank, I suddenly felt unbelievably tired, I lay down on top of the bed and pulled the duvet over myself, it was two hours later that I awoke, side effects – possibly.

Feeling good, I went off down to the harbour, being a Saturday, normally a day that St Andrews is awash with people, but again only a few locals and young students, walking two by two.

I had picked up a stone in the tread of my walking boots so stopped, removed the offending boot and on closer examination found that, the sole of the boot had worn so thin that a stone had punctured through, what was now just a thin layer of rubber over a honeycomb that made up the soft springy nature of the sole. I make my way back along South Street and into the shoe repair shop.

Can you stick a new sole on my boot for me, please?

“No, we have to send them away to be repaired – it will cost £74.00”

Big Gulp: I’m sure they cost less than that when I bought them – how many years ago now? I think I will pass on that. Looks as if I now have another pairs of old boots for work in the garden, ho-hum.

I sat out in the sheltered patio stretched out on one of the loungers, well I am recovering from a coronavirus jab, after all, that’s my excuse anyway.

Apart from a run over to Cupar on Sunday I have no idea what became of the weekend.

Monday, laundry day.

The skies are over cast but the cloud is high so may not come to rain, although the garden does require it.

The First Sea Lord was on Sky this morning singing the praise of the Royal Navy, well that’s kind of his job really. He is taking the £3 billion, Queen Elizabeth aircraft carrier and her 14 escort ships on a jolly to the Far East – in his words – to show that Britain is once more a powerful force in the world, and of course support our NATO allies, (He means America) Just a thought, does the NA part of NATO not stand for North Atlantic and the Far East was not the North Atlantic when I was at school.

This is nothing to do with defence and everything to do with Big Cocks. (I couldn’t help but notice that the aircraft carrier was flying a flag of St George, from the control tower, so thankfully this is an English exercise and nothing to do with Scotland, although we will get to pay 10% of the bills.

The Americans are laughing all the way to the bank, selling us all those, top of the range, stealth aircraft for our bonnie new boat. What will they cost, well the last estimate I read was 2.2 million each, but Wheesht about that.

Bairns not Bombs.

Stay safe.

2 thoughts on “ Mr Two Jabs.

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