Don't want to be all by myself...
It's only been two days. How can it be so difficult already. I often spend days alone, what with living alone and having no local friends, but this feels different. I suppose it's because I can't choose to go to the shops, or just jump in the car and go and see someone.
Today was the first day of the proper running of the school online work. Lots of students emailing and messaging asking questions that were clearly answered on their information sheets but that was reassuringly normal. It was also sweet in some ways - a very different way of communication with students.
I'm off in the car tomorrow, to St Albans delivering some food to my dad. That'll be the 89 year old with asthma who went to the paper shop today. Apparently, the man came out of the shop and gave it to him personally, which is sweet but I bet he wasn't two meters away while he did it! I've given up arguing though. I can only control what I do. I disagree with my dad, and wish he would listen to what everyone is saying on the news - like what is essential about purchasing a daily newspaper - there are apps! You don't need the paper copy, you just want it and the micro social transaction that goes with it. But is it worth dying? Is it worth clogging up an ambulance? Is it worth needing to be in a hospital and that ambulance and bed not being available for a stroke patient, or a heart attack. Is it worth giving it to other people? Is it worth getting ill and being told you aren't a priority for a respirator? Is it worth dying over? Those are all things I could say to him but I don't because it would create a row, and our rows are often long lasting things as well as being bitter and painful. I don't think it's worth it. He's an adult and he gets to make his own choices and I'm an adult and make my own. So, I'll be sitting in his garden tomorrow and not going into his house because whatever happens, I refuse to be the person who gives him this wretched virus.
So, life is squeezing itself down into small spaces. The days seem long and the cat is very naughty. Worse than 30 year 7s being excited and noisy. Hmmnn. Jury's still out on that one. But it's not been a bad day. I'll be glad when tomorrow is done.
In better news I had lovely chats with my bestie, Polly, who lives in Hackney. She's self isolating - or is it shielding in her case - as she has COPD and is a bit older than I am. And I'm ancient. Well, a lot older than I feel most of the time.
Speaking of how I'm feeling, that would be not well. Will this virus turn us all into hypochondriacs? It doesn't help that I've had a lingering virus for a month and still have a scratchy windpipe and lurking sinus things. But today I woke aching and have had to take paracetamol just to keep it down a bit. Really aching all over. A little flushed... did I have a temperature? I don't think so. It think it's just the stress and weirdness coming out. I often get muscle aches when I'm having a difficult time emotionally. It makes sense. I read a great article about how we're having a huge stress reaction as a country: we have macro and micro stress. And another one about grieving which mentioned anticipatory grief - which is of course. a t-shirt already in my wardrobe as a legacy of mother's long and horrific illness. It made such sense though. All that worry about friends and stubborn parents come out in backache. And lower than backache...
I'll finish with my pictures. I'm enjoying finding images to post. Today's are just the recreation field where I enjoyed some quiet moments on a bench, manufacturing some vitamin d. I hope.
The walk was a shorter and more sedate business today - just a stroll around the recreation field behind my little group of houses and flats. But lovely to sit in the sun and manufacture a little vitamin d. Then I found a gnome farm which was a trifle unexpected. It was just a quiet little country allotment - who knew that gnomes were a viable crop - but there they were! Along with some very strange scarecrows.
So here's my quiet park, with some lovely trees, behind which my flat is lurking somewhere. And although they are very nice trees, they are not as satisfyingly lovely as the ones in yesterday's picture. Yes, I'm weird.
And lastly, because it is her blog too, here's one of Delilah enjoying the lockdown. She says she hasn't noticed much difference, except that her portable bed has been available more and the supply of food is slightly more regular. (But the food bit is only because she bullies me into giving her more).