Week 2: An alternative grand National, the godmother and chocolate nightmares.

Dear diary, I was all prepared to begin this week’s entry by mourning the loss of the “People’s race”.

However, digital technology came roaring to the rescue for the Grand National’s die-hard fans, and the 2020 race was run virtually, with all profits being donated to our NHS heroes.

Though I don’t claim to be a connoisseur, choosing a horse in the national is a time-honoured tradition in my house and aged 33, I still can’t help but get caught up in the excitement of the spectacle.

I do like to think my methods of choosing the winning horse are a little more sophisticated these days though.

No more dragging my finger along a newspaper and saying “when” for me.

Now, there is a method to my madness: wearing my screwed up concentration face, I get down to studying the odds and form, before promptly ignoring them in favour of the names I like the sound of best.

Usually, ones which feature the names of my guide dogs, or that make me laugh-who could forget “Shakalakaboomboom”?

Ok so my record of picking winners was just as woeful as ever, but CGI or not, I still got right into the spirit of the race.

In turns, I clapped, paced, shouted at the telly and even covered my eyes in the seconds before the finish.

It was normality for a precious few minutes and I will be eternally thankful to the organisers for providing this temporary escape.

Just call Me Godmother

Diary, I am henceforth to be known as don Allana Granteone and I demand you show me the respect my status of “Godmother”  affords me.

Failure to do so will result in me making you an offer you cannot refuse!

Though seeing as I have no access to an actual horse’s head, I will have to sing you into submission instead.

You may have guessed already, but week two of lockdown got off to a lovely start as I was asked to be (la Madrina), or godmother, to my best friend’s twins.

Safe to say I was in equal measures delighted and honoured.

They are undoubtedly two of the cutest little people on this planet, they speak to each other in a language that no-one else can understand and they happen to know that, no matter your age, farting is the funniest thing ever!

What’s not to love?

Chocolate nightmares

Diary, have you ever been chased down the street by a giant bar of Dairymilk?-other brands of chocolate are available!

I have; well in my dreams at least.

A little over a week before Easter Sunday and it is fair to say my Lenten vows are being severely tested.

Help!

I am this moment sitting fantasising about dipping salt and vinegar crisps into a vat of melting chocolate.

Yes, I am aware of how revolting this sounds, but in my defence, the good Lord did not have a corona lockdown to contend with.

He did not face the prospect of weeks behind a door with not even a Cream egg for company-yes it has gotten that desperate!

If you could help me out in my hour of need, I’d be obliged

See you next week, when I will be in a happier chocolatier place! Stay safe!