."It's So Funny How We Don't Talk Anymore.."

I am starting to feel like a football manager that's been put on gardening leave.  Potted on over a hundred plants, divided some perennials, planted some garlic, watered the plants and seedlings in the polytunnel,  sat on the plastic chair and put comments on Rachel, Kevs and Yorkshire  Puddings blog, texted an old mate in north Manchester, dug a trench, filled it with homemade compost, planted another row of potatoes with the wifes help,  I heard lawnmowers and strimmers and saw a few cars going down one of the boreens...


Yet I never spoke to a soul, except for the missus.  She had been to Lidl for the messages.  That's  a West Cork term for shopping.  She met a friend from up the road and brought home some Guinness.  Essential medicine for another of rural, I mean social isolation.  She didn't just go for Guinness, honest!

I remember seeing Cliff Richard's twice at a Christian music festival in the late seventies, early eighties.  I remember seeing  U2 there before they became rock gods.  Any road.  One song I remember him singing  was the one in the above video.   I think its appropriate for the times we live in.  It's  like been sent to Coventry but by everyone!