"Going Viral" drabbles by Neville Hunt
Eating with my bird
Going Viral #11
Tonight it’s pheasant casserole... for me! Mrs H will have her own meagre lamb chop... she’s not having my pheasant casserole!
Please don’t think I’m being mean. I’m not. I would be delighted to share my huge pan of tucker. But she’s argued herself into a corner.
The casserole is packed with pheasant leftovers from the whole pheasant we had a week ago. It was lovely... we both agreed. The leftovers hung around in the fridge for several days. “Too many” said Mrs H!
“Mmmm! That does smell good,” she agreed.
If I survive the night, she wants it tomorrow!
They don’t know
Going Viral #10
I woke up early this morning; it’s getting lighter earlier. The birds were singing and flitting in and out of the beech hedge. They seemed happy as Larry. They made me happy too.
They don’t know.
Venturing downstairs, I flung open the curtains to reveal the magnificent deep pinky red of the flowering currant and pale yellow clumps galore of fresh-as-a-daisy primroses. I felt daisy-fresh too as I took in the scene.
They don’t know either.
Life it seems goes on, and so must we. So once in a while, maybe I’ll forget that I know.
Changes
Going Viral #9
In our relationship, I’m the dreamer... disorganised, airy-fairy, optimistic. Mrs H is my opposite, organised, concerned, a confirmed pessimist. We meet in the middle, working well.
But things have changed. No, no, no... I’m still an optimist, still a dreamer, but I need a change... and that change comes in my suitcase... a change of clothing ready for the off.
Mrs H’s case has been packed for weeks. It’s sitting there, waiting. Hopefully not for the inevitable, but certainly not for a holiday either.
Jimmies, socks, kecks, shirts, jeans. What more do I need?
Beer, wine, bottle-opener. Sorted!👍
Enter the (not so) Gladheinterviewedthem
Going Viral #8
The BBC interviewer held the microphone on its boom as he interviewed the couple in Trafalgar Square. He was using it to record them... but he was also using it as a weapon, much as a lion-tamer might use a chair to protect himself from his mighty, magnificent foe.
But this couple weren’t magnificent; they were insane! They’d come to London, to one of its most visited locations, merely “To see how empty it was.” And then they would go home.
In Roman times, the microphone would have been a sword... and after the interview... thumbs down from Caesar.
Glow
Going Viral #7
Today’s the day! At last, Mrs H admitted that it’s great being married to a bloke like me! Not because of my incredible good looks, my intellect, my compassion... or my modesty. It’s because of those earlier overbuying habits that had always irritated her... habits which I have stopped completely, firstly from a sense of social responsibility and also from being housebound.
As we munch our way through four freezers full to the gunwales, I bask in the glow that is like the naughty schoolboy who’s playing truant, and, seeing a driverless runaway car, saves a child in its path.
Scowl
Going Viral #6
Ever since the onset of the Coronavirus pandemic, I have noticed that manners have deteriorated. Where I smile at passers by, I now get a scowl.
”Why am I smiling? I thought it might slightly lighten your mood” I might say. But I don’t.
And when driving, I tend to be courteous to oncoming drivers, particularly in the narrow roads from my village, stopping and letting them go first. Once they used to wave thanks. Now... nothing.
So I give them a wave. V for virus? V for victory? Or perhaps it’s something else.
Ah! Maybe that’s why they’re scowling.
Be careful what you wait for
Going Viral #5
A parcel arrived. I was bothered. Reg the postman was bothered too.
I’d been waiting for two months. Twelve stainless hooks for new kitchen. I needed only one but they came in 12s. The wrapper confirmed my fears. They came on a slow boat from China!
I’d touched the wrapping (so had Reg). What to do?
1. Avoid Reg.
2. Hooks into saucepan.
3. Cover with bleach.
4. Boil -10 minutes.
5. Meanwhile, bin wrapper IMMEDIATELY in outside rubbish bin
6. Deep wash hands (none of this 20 seconds... I took a full five minutes)
7. Pick nose.
8. Sorted!
Over (...but not out)
Going Viral #4
It’s over. After all the planning, it’s over. After all the effort designing and printing off the cards... it’s not on the cards after all.
It had been perfect. Her birthday actually falls on a Saturday - a perfect day for a birthday bash. But her plans have been well and truly bashed.
The UK Government’s decision to step up the crisis level made it easy to decide to step down the party... stopping our friends stepping out and stepping in... to our house.
Ever the pessimist, Mrs H wrote to cancel... but I decided postponement would be much, much better.
Stocking up
Going Viral #3
My friend is a kind of Bear Grylls. He lives on his skills and animal instincts. I’m amazed at the ways he finds to cope in the wild, what he will eat, drink and do to survive.
We meet occasionally for a pint, into which he stirs shavings of what he calls forest roots, for their flavour and... so he says, pointing at his lap, and with a wink... ‘potency’.
But with the Coronavirus situation, I asked him what he was stocking up with.
“Ammunition,” he replied.
“Ammunition?”... I gulped... “Why?”
“Cos that means I can get anything I want!”
Rhinosterous
Going Viral #2
He was really worried about Coronavirus. Accordingly, he took steps to protect himself. The moment he returned from work his regime started. He washed his hands very, very thoroughly. First he ran the water... must be piping hot. Almost scalding his hands, he rolled the soap around in them under the tap until he’d worked up a huge lather.
Then the deep cleaning began. His fingers and thumbs intertwined over and over for 5 minutes until I swear every single trace of natural oils was gone. Only then was he ready to pick his nose.
Nobody was giving him Coronavirus!
Invitation of the Season
Going Viral #1
It would be the party of the season. My wife would be celebrated at her ‘Who does she think she is?’ party. This diminutive mongrel, with only surnames to her name, has played Sherlock Holmes with her ancestry. She’s really good at it.
We created a very stylish invitation and acceptances are coming fast... like an infection. 2, 4, 6, 8, 10; only 35 more to go.
By my reckoning her party is timed for the epicentre of Coronavirus, which, given her name, might be very apt. So there might be plenty of food and drink left over. Wanna come?
