With large sections of society going into ‘social-isolation’, one Lichfield resident lifts the lid on her thoughts in the latest of a series of diary posts on the coronavirus outbreak.
Day 17 of total seclusion. I should be practising some T’ai Chi sequences but I’m missing the communal rhythm of the class.
One fellow prisoner is doing her pilates online, while another runs regular laps around his lawn – but I haven’t found my exercise discipline yet, unless you count going up and down the stairs or the garden path.
My plan for the day includes digging out a sketch book and a tin of pencils and drawing something yet to be decided.
I’ll also be reading a few chapters of a book Amazon sent me – a biography of Samuel Pepys, the diarist who survived the Great Plague of London in 1665 – for a bit of historical perspective.
The calendar on the kitchen wall is largely blank, but one date is circled in red and says ‘D-Day’ – something solid to look forward to. Ocado is coming, fresh supplies soon on their way. D is for delivery!
So it was good last night to put on all the lights in the house, open the front door and join in the clapping around the country.
For the NHS, naturally, but also for all the key workers keeping things going. Like the postal and supermarket staff, pharmacists, bin and delivery men – and so many more.
I didn’t fancy banging pan lids together though, so rang a brass bell instead.
