Life at Camp Corona

Well another week or two has passed. We’re losing track of the days and dates and please forgive us if we stand with heads bowed on our driveway commemorating ANZAC day on the wrong day. We went into isolation about 4 weeks ago when we returned from our somewhat failed Empty Esky trip. I’m thankful now that the last non-medical person I came into contact with, was my hairdresser. Woody on the other hand, is resigned to growing his hair long for the last time. As he reckons there’ll be little left when next it is cut.

And speaking of hair, you’ll be pleased to hear that our old mate Toothless has taken to the world of ‘cut and colour’ with a vengeance and is now gloved up and giving his missus a spruce up.

We’re cooking and walking, yesterday Woody turned out a magnificent Fish Pie, today I’m knocking up Covid Minestrone which is bound to be a treat and tomorrow is biscuit baking day. Please don’t tell the authorities, but the walking is not for fitness but to walk off the calories.Covid Soup

14 thoughts on “Life at Camp Corona

  1. I have been cutting The Driver’s hair for years. He is into the shearing with a 3/8th comb, or thereabouts, regardless of how it looks. Vanity is not one of his issues! Think I will just go shaggy for the duration – but if I get desperate……..


  2. All these guys growing their hair crazy long could be quite scary, especially for their children and grandchildren! Jo’s been hacking mine back and seems to want another go at it this morning.


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