I’ve not touched my house keys for exactly two months, so it was a milestone moment to open the front door, lock it behind me and go for a real walk around Stowe Pool.
I’ve got used to doing not a lot extremely well. Like scribbling on bits of paper, deleting emails, shifting stuff about, pulling up the odd weed – but a heroic task lies ahead.
The city must still be out there with its medieval ladder lay-out of streets and market square, but it’s been so long since I’ve seen it that it could be a ghost town by now, like the ones in western or nuclear disaster movies.
On Thursday, I was forced out of the house because the brown wheelie bin disappeared. It should have been on the kerb opposite the house, next to the blue one, but our new local heroes, the bin men, had left it much further down the road.
Some people I know are getting wonderfully organised and setting up video links with names I’ve never heard of before, like Zoom – and running groups, pubs and clubs that way.
