Friday – lawns mowed, ate hot cross buns in the garden as the sun attempted to break through, reading Excellent Women, (smiling out loud – not quite laughing but more than smiling) my first ever Barbara Pym – I see why she’s a cult. Moved the couch in my study so that I can see the blossom from my window in all its blossomy glory. I’m so impressed with the young women on Insta making scrubs for the NHS – at least I could donate and that felt positive
Saturday –today I can’t bear what’s happening, not just those dying in huge numbers but also those looking after them who are broken and in pieces and whom we are not protecting sufficiently. I range between great sadness and anger that threatens to overwhelm. I think a lot about my father’s death last year. I keep seeing his hands as I sat by his bed, when he was so frail and near death. I think about the care homes left to fend for themselves.
Anger doesn’t help. I feel helpless as I have nothing concrete to offer but to stay at home.
Sunday – Out early for a village walk. It’s cool here in the North and not much prospect of sun. Spend time sorting out our online grocery click and collect for tomorrow, which always seems to have some hitch or another. Trying to fend off the feelings from yesterday. Eating a chocolate Easter Egg. Chocolate, cake or biscuits so rare in this house that it becomes a kind of binge!
In the evening a family Zoom, with Easter Hat competition – Oh how it lifts my spirits to see everyone, to laugh, to have fun play games, to be serious, to be together…(see crazy pic below)
Monday – The wind is cold. The heating is back on. Remaining chocolate (very small piece) binned. I start putting that short story that wanted to be a novel back in its place. Spend all morning writing – it’s one of the few solitary occupations that make me feel positive and uplifted. The story comes good – now to begin tracing the stories that connect to it.
Have neglected my postcards and renga diary so will be catching up on that later and cooking. I’m not madly inspired to cook like some people, all those pictures of food on Twitter and Insta make me feel somewhat inadequate but trying hard not to waste any food and to make good healthy meals. Have some lovely blackcurrants that a neighbour and fellow writer left for us. Now I WILL do something with those. Blackcurrant tart was my grandmother’s speciality – I loved it, crisp sugary pastry, tart fruit, clotted cream (well I did come from the West Country)
Here we are – top left – daughter and husband, top right son and wife, bottom right my brother and partner (in scrub hats – she’s making them for the NHS!) Bottom left me and John in his cycling helmet
