The Appeal of Mrs Toogood

Last year, when I had my windows redone so they were less rickety old bits of wood and more newfangled bits of plastic, I caused the salesman some consternation by insisting on a bathroom window that opened horizontally so I could look out on the city whilst doing my business. This week, as I sat looking at the snowy roofs of the terraces below me, I noticed a couple that were unusually clear and began to plan a blogpost about how you could guess whether it was poor roof insulation or a loft converted into a cannabis farm that resulted in the visible slates.

It was weak but it was probably an improvement on my other option which was a lengthy investigation into why you never see brown cars any more.

In truth though, both are unmitigated pants. I started this blog to write about my orchard, but it’s morphed into a sort of dreary lockdown travelogue. It’s become unsatisfactory for me as the writer, so I dread to think of the misery it’s prompted in anyone unfortunate enough to read it.

Later that week my dad sent me a photo of my trees covered in a sprinkling of snow and it confirmed my decision.

I’ve decided to can the loosely related stuff. I’m just going to write about the orchard in future, so I think I’ll take a break for the rest of lockdown unless something exciting happens. Apologies to anyone lunatic enough to enjoy this nonsense but it’s better this way, believe me.

I’ll see you all in the hopefully not too distant future.