Day 1
This is Day 1 of my diary, and not, as someone will surely, remind to me, Day 1 of the drama that is going on around the world.
I don’t get out much. You may big ah if you like – okay then.
My joints have long outlived my brain function and decided eons ago that they’ve had enough of my overly active lifestyle. Over the years my knees and shoulders took the brunt of falls from horses, out of trees, exuberant children and energetic folk dancing on a Saturday night. They now complain painfully when I try to walk more than a few feet, so it’s taken a little while for me to realise the effect of this social isolation the younger folk find themselves in. Mostly, it’s been just like a normal week for me apart from more than usual phone calls. Thank you, everyone I do appreciate our chats.
That said, I normally attend my local church on a Sunday morning, so today is the day the effects of social isolation kicked in. Instead of going out I watched a virtual service with two dogs at my feet and a cat snoring in front of the screen. And, if it’s not too much information, I was not struck down by a bolt of lightning for being in my nightie, so I shall do that again.
I have a plan. It’s no different from last year. I shall be growing my own veg in my adapted garden in order to have enough to eat when the apocalypse does arrive. I intend to intersperse the gardening with writing in order to give my joints a rest when they complain, hopefully, ensuring a productive day and a relaxed attitude to what the virus intends for my age group.
Live long and prosper, folks
Have you ever wondered about the origins of Halloween?
My daughter has two dogs both of which moult like there’s a serious attack of global warming. She has also borrowed my car quite a bit lately and so the back seat was covered in what I was about to say was loose hair.
the seat, and the blanket that’s supposed to catch it. The dogs tend to runckle that up and get underneath it. It sticks to the carpet and anyone who cares to give them attention. 
She went to sleep in her own bed and just didn’t wake up. She was a little sweetheart and very loving.
One of my New Year’s Resolutions was to decorate as much of my home as possible this year. The provisos to this being;
I also had a dog. Not my dog, who would most likely have been used to me, but my son’s. He was on holiday with his family and the dog was being spoilt at my house.
Walking backwards across the bathroom while gazing at the ceiling as you paint is not the best thing you can do if you, a) don’t want to fall over said dog, b) spill paint everywhere, including on the dog who then runs off daubing other parts of the house with her paint covered coat, c) miss bits of the ceiling in order not to do a) or b).
I’d try again but I have my daughter’s dog at the moment and I’ve already fallen trying to avoid her as I came down the step into the living room.
Before you all reach for your phones and report me it was not a sweet little fur-ball with whiskers, sharp claws and a meow.
She’s a sweetie and I would not microwave her even though I want access to my own computer. In fact, there are times when she’s helped by editing my writing and passed comment. My daughter says she must love it because she’s left so many kisses.
You would think that living alone in an old house would cause me a few uneasy moments. My home has been around since Cromwell’s Commonwealth and has the obligatory ghost who prowls the old path to the side of the house and disappears when he reaches the spot where the original door used to be.
It was the Festival of Books at Delapre Abbey and as I was born at the hospital nearby I took the opportunity to join Corona Books on their stall. It also meant I was able to visit with relatives while I was there. All for the price of one journey.
SueJEaton 