It must be Saturday by now.

We have been on lockdown for four days so far, and they are initially saying we should all live by these restrictions for three weeks.

I said to B – this staying-in is killing me.

He swore generally, and threw himself about in dismay, as he does – and I vacated the room so as to remain in one piece and able to carry on for another day.

No.  He can’t help it, poor chap, and it was the news that there were probably no more M&S milk shakes we could access that upset him the most.

I was in the back garden today – yesterday as it is now – and swept a corner of the path near to Yorick and Godwin’s fence, and rolled a large pot into that space.

Shall I take out the tulips from it, once they’ve bloomed, and plant tomatoes in there?

I dug a hole in a corner at the opposite fence, deposited a couple of small sprouting potatoes in it – suddenly, growing food again seems important – how thin will I get before those potatoes produce?

The slugs will probably have them, but maybe not – their spot is a square of less than a yard, and there are cement paths on a couple of sides of it, and Noddingdale’s fence on the other side behind it.

We have a buttressed fence that is all our own on the fourth side.

I have a compost bin, in fact, in another corner of the garden, and the slugs congregate in there, and now that I have some frogs again – we have spawn in the pot ponds – they will keep down the snails.  They seem to prefer our snails to our slugs.

Maybe I can grow a pea-runner or two in the pot beside Godwin and Yorick’s fence – I grew runner beans there once – I fully thought they would take the beans from their side – anyone would – but I later found out they hadn’t.  They were too polite and wouldn’t have done unless asked.

I don’t believe that for a minute – I think they weren’t hungry enough at that time, or preferred to live out of the freezer.

My husband apologised to me later, for having lost his temper.

I let it go.

We went out for some exercise the other day, him with his walker, up the road, and down the road.

Someone had a new drive, which he admired.

It’s the little things that please when you look for them.

Prince Charles has the coronavirus, but not badly, and he is working from home in Scotland.

Camilla hasn’t got it.  I presume she has put herself socially distanced in another part of the house.

Boris has it.

He is only mildly affected and is working from home – number 10.

Carrie Symonds is away somewhere – maybe at Chequers.  She is pregnant and self-isolating.  However, the dog is keeping her company.

There is a huge void if I write nothing at all for the blog –

It will seem so, later in the day, and I think I shall be here to see that.

I have no personal sense of impending doom.

I’m quite chipper, then, given the current coronavirus crisis.

I can’t concentrate, but then I think that is a healthy response; there is a need to be astute at a time like this – to not be so wrapped up in normal endeavours when you could do with at least half an ear being open to noises outside.

It was difficult to settle down in here.  Before this lockdown came into effect, I found things to go to the shop for.

Realistically, I have needed those things, but I maybe should have asked those willing to shop for us.

I went down town last a couple of weeks ago – it was weird, and already half-empty.

Going into town – I can walk it if I need to, but, realistically, it requires bus rides, and I decided early on, from that last reconnaissance, I’d be a whole lot safer out of it.

And my husband falls into a group of ‘people with underlying conditions’, and I didn’t want to be bringing illness back to him.

Have I had coronavirus already?

I had a cold, woke up in the night a couple of nights running, unable to breathe, then sitting upright on the side of my bed, breathing okay in that position, but falling over with tiredness, jogging myself awake again, wondering if I could sleep in the chair, going downstairs at last for the proverbial tea and toast, or tea and porridge, sleeping-in the next day over the time when shops were opening specifically for elderly and vulnerable people.

Waking at eleven, once, thinking aggressively – ‘I never was a morning person!  And it’s about time people understood that!’

Waking, one of the days, after midday.

I got a text-message from Gov UK telling me that I should not go outside.

I have taken that message personally.

But it is okay to go into your garden, and I have been out the front, ready to duck away if anyone should pass too close.

The weather is glorious.

I dug a bit.

There is a rose that has been there since we moved in but it is none-too-steady, and is coming out at the roots.

I don’t know whether to attempt to keep that till the bitter end – I may be able to take a cutting from it – or give it up now and have space for something else.

I don’t want to say what I am –

doing, this is the thing.

I don’t want to be held to what I’ve said.  I need a continuation of my own freedom – that means I need to make my own decisions.

I’ve been trying to work that one out for years – what ‘freedom’ meant to me – I so much had to have freedom when I was young – oh, twenty-odd.

But I didn’t know what I meant by it.

It was a feeling but, now, I have a definition.

Id a manner of speaking . . .

He’ll be dead by now.

Or an old man.

I hope he can’t get it up!

And her – making me take a stance that just wasn’t true!

I know I should have (yes!) been stronger –

But I wasn’t strong at the time!

And so, now, I hope something awful happens to her!

 

blast from the past and how I feel about it now.

Things go around in my head.

Already, I must say – something like that.

Things go around and I hardly dare write them.  I have so much to type up – I usually handwrite first.

There is so much I could say if only I let myself go.

And the writing is precious but it also isn’t so – there is plenty more where that came from – if I don’t worry too much about what I write.  I have plenty of fiction, it turns out.  Maybe the part of me that did want to do NaNo was a wiser person than I thought.

I think she was – I separate myself from her – I’ll say that much – if it had been up to me I wouldn’t have done NaNo at all – not my cup of tea.

But I have fiction there now to chew at when I’m in the mood.

Ivy.

I was going to give something of an explanation (!) about how I can plant two sprigs of ivy just like that.

I have ivy growing up a trellis (a heavy one) at the back of my garden in front of Dee and . . .’s fence.

I told them about my trellis when they wanted to get rid of the jasmine that was theirs but that I had agreed to years ago – it would grow over into my garden.

They’d had enough of that and thought they were stealing a march over me when they insisted they would pay for the fence – and make sure they had the straight planks on their side.

Of course, that meant that the gubbins would be on mine.

What they didn’t realise was that I didn’t mind at all to be having the gubbins of the fence – my sister says you want that side of a fence because you can easily fix trellis to it, but I wouldn’t go that far in these small gardens around here – it is bad enough maintaining your own equilibrium without throwing your weight about.

No.  I told them I didn’t mind which way the fence was put up, and that I would let the jasmine go (it was getting too overwhelming) just so long as I had my trellis on the other side (free-standing and separate from the fence by a few feet).

I think they didn’t entirely understand what they were letting themselves in for.  The trellis is not some flimsy affair.

They were surprised that I had what they called a ‘wild garden’ – it couldn’t be seen from their side of the fence when that was up, though I had seen their garden – I’d been up in the tree.

Gosh, you get so far through with explanations and then find you need a whole bunch more.

The trellis – the sturdy one – ivy growing all up it.

Three nests came out from there, and the birds still come for the berries but nest in the huge hedge that is along the road out the front.

What an idyllic spot I live in, you’ll be thinking.

Well, it’s all in the mind.

I got the ivy sprigs from my sturdy trellis to plant against Yorick and Godwin’s fence.