Believe it or not, there's a swine flu alert at the Sandison household and I have been ordered to stay well away from the office. Not one to shirk the idea of a few days working from home I have got mixed emotions about this one though. It's a strange thing being considered as an outcast. We had a delivery arrive yesterday, a lorry driver from Crewe who had rung my office number to get final directions to the house and been told I was in quarantine. Thanks May! Very perturbed look on his face as he handed over boxes of plates, cutlery and 3,000 paper napkins for an Argentinian assado party we are holding in a couple of weeks time. The irony of the situation we find ourselves in is that our daughter Jimmy was very quick, when swine flu was first being discussed, to recognise the possibilities that the outbreak presented for skiving off school and has spent the last couple of months tracking down people who have recently returned from Mexico and canvassing to go on holiday there, but to no avail. Surprise surprise it is Hen who has managed to find yet another way to be sent home from school. Her housemistress must have thought Sophie a very cold and heartless parent indeed, when she rang us to deliver the news that Hen was in the sanatorium with suspected swine flu and had to be collected by us and brought home that very evening, given the palpable sense of relief she would have picked up. Phone calls from Mrs Naylor are normally to relay much more serious developments!
Truth be told I am at a low ebb as I write this. I discovered Turnip, the original miracle chick, dead in the run this morning. And yesterday two other chicks died. Forget swine flu. Bird flu is back with a vengeance. So depressing. Plus, there are wheat lice crawling all over my lap top and a fox-hound that a shepherd uses to round up his sheep barking manically and repeatedly in a nearby field. Hate them all. I'm out of here.
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