I wake up knackered and look at my phone. How can I have slept in until almost 8? Ah yes, the clocks have gone forward. My body is on “almost 7” time. I wish the clocks could go forward to 2021 but that’s in the realms of sci-fi and the deep recesses of my wishful head. Here I am, yet two weeks into government-imposed exile and there’s a long way to go.
To be honest it’s not that bad. Yet. We spend a lot of time at home in LaU (Life as usual) and, when looking for fun at the weekends, only normally go out to wide open spaces, e.g. Dartmoor or the coast path. It’s not like we miss shopping, the cinema, or the nightlife. Yet I do miss social interaction. Work would normally provide that most days, the pub every other Wednesday for quiz night, and the twice weekly “taxi service” taking the boys to swimming and Scouts complete the picture. Perhaps the cheery “hello” and “goodbye” in the local shops of a weekend as well.
I wonder. When the boys have left home and I’ve retired, is this what life is going to be like? Is this what I’ve really longed for when work has got on top of me and I want it to all be over? Perhaps time to rethink.
The Tesco order arrives late morning. Only two more pre-booked ones before there are no more. The cheerful delivery man drops it in the drive, maintaining the requisite 2m distance, and we transport it to the house. Anything non-perishable gets put in the quarantine box in the garage for a few days. Anything perishable gets washed before storage. then we both wash our hands for the requisite 20 seconds.
Despite being tired from yesterday, I do a bit more in the garden and son #2 wants his daily bike ride. We head up to the crossroads at the top of the village – further than yesterday, and then head back. This is great father & son time and I’m really happy that he’s enjoying cycling. It’s also an odd positive side effect of the current situation that there is very little traffic on the roads. This is therefore a great time to get him used to road cycling. He wants to do it again tomorrow, which is good but tricky. Tomorrow is a work day. Perhaps at lunchtime.
Dinner is Lancashire hotpot, made from some frozen roast lamb leftovers I found in the freezer yesterday.