With large sections of society preparing to go 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.
There’s a view of a school from my window. Parents and children as usual at gates which will close later today – for who knows how long?
A birthday in solitary confinement isn’t wonderful – no family celebration, of course – but much to be thankful for.
It’s a lot easier to be a pensioner with a reliable income than a worker worried about the rent or the owner of a business with bills to pay and no customers.
I’m heartened too by offers of assistance from younger people still allowed out.
A parcel is due for delivery, which used to be a simple affair, but not any more. The sender has a list of reminders – no contact with the driver, no handling the package, then touching my face.
Eventually, a text tells me the item has arrived. A man in a van gets out, dumps a tall pink box on the gravel, then drives off at once.
On go the gloves. Again.
In the box is a bouquet. A touch tearful now, but the flowers are beautiful, with a fresh, delicate scent of the outside world.
