Tuesday 28 April:

It’s been quite a long time since I added to this ‘reflection’ blog…

During the course of our self-isolation (and also perhaps as a result of receiving three identical letters from the NHS telling me that I’m “at risk of severe illness” and “stay at home at all times and avoid face-to-face contact for up to 12 weeks), I’ve developed a routine of ‘dawn walking’. Not every day, but perhaps three or four times a week. The only downside is that Moira ‘doesn’t do dawn’(!) and so these early morning walks just involve me (Moira and I go for walks at other times of the day – but I’m somewhat hesitant because it involves ‘confronting’ so many more people). Strangely, today was the first wet dawn I can recall in the six weeks since we’ve been self-isolating (we’ve been incredibly blessed with beautiful clear skies and sunshine).

But I ventured out anyway…

Actually, I love walking in the rain – provided that a) I’m suitably dressed and b) I haven’t got a meeting (or whatever) to go to. Today, I undertook one of my regular circuits (via Vauxhall Bridge/harbourside/Gaol Ferry Steps) and really enjoyed the experience… being able to walk in the middle of the road (literally!) to and from the harbourside; listening to the rainfall on the hood of my waterproof; the utter silence (apart from the occasional car driving down Coronation Road); being aware of my thoughts and ‘taking in’ things that I sometimes fail to notice; and being aware that there was ‘just me’ around - actually, in the course of my 50 minute amble, I came across just two joggers, a cyclist and a dog-walker (whose ‘companion’ looked far from impressed by the experience!).

Then back home for breakfast and coffee!     

Photo: Gaol Ferry Bridge at sunrise (from last week, not today!).

PS: Having been struggling somewhat with my spiritual life and when it comes to praying, I’m thinking about the possibility of using the wonderful Iona pilgrimage guide (“Around A Thin Place” by Jane Bentley/Neil Paynter) as a basis for some of my dawn walks – I’ve used the guide on a number of previous occasions, substituting Bristol locations for various Iona ‘reflection places’… I have a feeling that the quiet isolation might be a useful key. But I might be wrong!

Good Friday 10 April:

Watching (or rather re-watching for the nth time) my “Into The Wild” DVD the other day, it acted as a reminder that so many people seem to live such ‘needy’ lives. Relatively speaking, I think Moira and I live quite simple existences - by comparison with so many, we aren’t poor, we do need to live ‘within our means’ and we do have to be careful how we spend our money. We don’t have the ‘luxury’ of being able to help support our daughters’ families financially. We don’t own a car; we don’t go on expensive holidays; we don’t have a second home; we don’t fly (well, at least we haven’t for nearly 4 years); we don’t ‘eat out’ very often; and we don’t live in a huge house with a large garden… But, yes, we do go to the theatre or cinema quite regularly; yes, we do travel by rail when the need arises; yes, we do buy books; yes, we do enjoy our various pastimes (like ceramics and sketching); and yes, I(!) do enjoy my red wine.

Simple living is important for us.

I suspect that, in these difficult times, many of us have been asking ourselves what kind of world we want to see post COVID-19. Many of us seem adamant that we don’t want to witness things going back to the way they were. There seems to be a huge sense that we need to re-prioritise (if that’s a word!) the things that matter. The virus crisis has highlighted so many things… so much kindness shown by others (despite, unfortunately, the minority who have a selfish, ‘me first’ attitude to life); not surprisingly, the pace of life has slowed over the past weeks and people are beginning to acknowledge that, for many of us, that’s been a very positive thing; it’s been interesting to see how pollution levels across the world have dropped dramatically (eg. air quality; the waters of Venice cleaner; distant views of the Himalayas visible etc); why do we need to ‘strive for more’?; why is there so much greed?; why is there so much focus producing even greater profits?; a better appreciation of the importance of family life and relationships… and finding time to enjoy them. Simple pleasures.

In short, we need to come up with a way that promotes the planet and people above profit, whilst still encouraging trade, commerce and free creativity in the way we live work and play.

I’ve noticed that some people have begun to make ‘wish lists’ of things they want to do as soon as the virus crisis comes to an end. It’s been illuminating. I haven’t noticed any of the ‘usual’ bucket list items appearing on people’s agendas (swimming with dolphins and suchlike)… they’re much more focussed on stuff that, in the past, we’ve perhaps taken for granted, such as: hugging family members; meeting up with friends (in a bar/café/restaurant); going to the cinema, theatre etc; visiting a special place you’ve always promised that you’d go to; walking along a beach; walking through a wood or a forest… you get the idea.

The somewhat scary thing for people of my age is the horrible prospect that you might have already missed your last opportunity to do these things… and, suddenly, the depth of the crisis and all its potential consequences and implications hammer firmly home.

(Image: house banner, Redcliffe Parade).

Thursday 9 April:

Following my spiritual musings from last Sunday, I came across this reflection from Norman Shanks on ‘Church Renewal’ (“This is the Day”, published 2003, Iona Community) which I found quite helpful/hopeful:

“The Church’s vocation in each and every locality is to be a worshipping, healing, learning, serving community, faithfully living by the vales of the kingdom, modelling and embodying a counter-cultural vision, looking and reaching out beyond itself with a wider vision, to discover the light and love of God in engagement with the life of the world, standing up and speaking out against all that diminishes and disempowers humanity. In doing so it will dream and explore; it will be open, flexible and ready to take risks; it will be generous, hospitable and ready to celebrate; it will not be a ghetto but keen to co-operate and engage; it will be a transforming community – influencing others for good, and being transformed itself in the process; it will be resilient and persistent, however hard the way, and it will be marked by joy and an eagerness to celebrate.”

Wednesday 8 April:

Daily exercise? Moira and I have been going for daily walks during our self-imposed self-isolation regime…

According to the BBC website on 15 March: “Every Briton over the age of 70 will be told ‘within the coming weeks’ to stay at home for an extended period to protect themselves from coronavirus. When it happens, they will be asked to stay home for ‘a very long time’, Health Secretary Matt Hancock said. The government is to release social distancing advice for elderly people on Monday - but they will not yet be asked to self-isolate for long periods”.

On 23 March, the government ruled that (all) people should stay at home and only leave the house for these four reasons:

1.    Shopping for necessities

2.    Once a day for exercise

3.    Medical need or providing care

4.    Travelling to or from work (if you can't work from home)

Well, it seems that (at least) some of us over-70s at high risk from coronavirus have now actually been officially told to “stay at home at all times”. Yesterday, I received a letter from NHS North Bristol Trust stating: “The NHS has identified you… as someone at risk of severe illness if you catch coronavirus. This is because you have an underlying disease or health condition that means if you catch the virus, you are more likely to be admitted to hospital than others. The safest course of action is for you to stay at homes at all times and avoid face-to-face contact for at least 12 weeks from today… This will protect you by stopping you from coming into contact with the virus”.

Then, at the end of yesterday afternoon, I received this text from UK.Gov: “NHS Coronavirus Service: Your condition means you are at high risk of severe illness if you catch coronavirus. Please remain at home for 12 weeks unless a healthcare professional tells you to leave. You will get a letter from the NHS to confirm this”.

This was immediately followed by a further text from UK.Gov: “NHS Coronavirus Service: You can open a window but do not go outside your property. Ask others to take rubbish to bins and to walk any pets. If you need a repeat prescription…”.

A strict interpretation of the above would seem to indicate that my daily walks seem to have come to an end? Is that correct?

This morning’s ‘The Independent’ newspaper stated this:

“It emerged thousands of vulnerable Britons at high risk from coronavirus have not yet been told they should be staying indoors for 12 weeks. With the peak of the virus thought to be several days away, officials have admitted there have been ‘mixed messages’ about which people should be ‘shielding’…”.

The BBCwebsite (1 April) provided this explanation of ‘shielding’:

“More than a million people most at risk of needing hospital treatment if they catch coronavirus are being asked to stay at home for at least 12 weeks.

This "shielding" is to protect lives.

Why do it?

Cases of coronavirus are increasing rapidly in the UK, which suggests it is circulating in the community and spreading from person to person.

While everyone is being advised to keep their distance from other people to help stop the spread, some people with underlying health conditions need to take even more precautions to protect themselves.

Who should do it?

Those most at risk, who include:

·         Solid organ transplant recipients

·         Some people with cancer who are undergoing treatments such as chemotherapy and radiotherapy

·         People on immunosuppression drugs

·         Women who are pregnant and have heart disease

·         People with severe respiratory conditions - cystic fibrosis, severe asthma and COPD

·         Some people with rare diseases such as severe combined immunodeficiency

Anyone in this highest risk category who has not received a letter from the NHS by Sunday 29 March 2020 or been contacted by their doctor should get in touch with their GP or hospital doctor by phone or online.

This does not include all elderly people, although they are strongly advised to practice social distancing and only go out if really necessary”.

I’m assuming that I’m on the “at risk of severe illness” list due to my possible ‘pulmonary fibrosis history’ (from April 2017). But I’ve been given a clear ‘bill of health’ at my annual checks (and I now feel absolutely fine), so I don’t actually consider myself as having a “severe respiratory condition”. Clearly, in the current circumstances, it’s impracticable for the NHS to be able to clarify every individual’s precise circumstances but, for the time being at least, I’m going to continue to take my daily walks (taking due care and doing so at times to minimise any potential proximity with others). In due course, depending on how things develop, I suspect the government might impose a “stay at home at all times” ruling for ALL over-70s… and, who knows, maybe for the entire population?

Sunday 5 April:

It’s Palm Sunday and I thought I’d reflect on how I’m feeling ‘spiritually’.

The truth is that I’m in a bit of a spiritual wilderness – and this has been the situation for some time now, not just during Lent. There have been moments of encouragement (eg. through Lee’s words at a church service/a recent Resonate or via my wonderful Bloke’s Prayer friends), but these haven’t stopped me feeling almost ‘without faith’ and asking myself why I’m bothering.

I tried, somewhat briefly, re-reading Tom Wright’s “Lent for Everyone: Matthew” (a previous Lent study book)… but found it unhelpful.

Since then, as a daily routine, I’ve been re-reading daily readings and meditations from the Iona Community (“This is the Day”, published 2003)…it covers four months and I’m some three weeks in. I have to say that I find the Iona Community approach/attitudes provide me the best spiritual ‘support’ at present. This week (as I do each Easter Week), I’ll also be re-watching Mel Gibson’s “The Passion of the Christ” DVD (although, as the years have gone by, I find Christ’s whipping by Roman centurions increasingly repellent).

At times, I feel as if the only reason I call myself a Christian is for the ‘peripheral things’ that come with ‘membership’… friends and a sense of ‘belonging’ etc.

I don’t read my Bible (but will endeavour to use this Holy Week as a vehicle for reminding myself of the Easter story) and I rarely pray (apart from our weekly Bloke’s Prayer sessions). In fact, I feel a bit of a fraud. How can there be a God? What’s the point of praying? What’s the point of worship?

I look at some of my Christian friends and frequently find myself wondering how (and why) these intelligent people have been able to develop and sustain their respective spiritual lives.

In some ways, given what’s happening in the world at the present time, you might have thought it would be relatively easy for me, who calls himself a Christian, to find reasons for prayer or time to pray (afterall, there’s plenty of time available!). Sadly, this hasn’t proved the case for me… I find relatively easy to opt out of such obligations or routines.

I don’t believe there’s ‘life after death’… and I don’t think I ever have subscribed to such a notion. Is there a heaven? Well, I actually do feel there is… but my heaven is much more the ‘heaven here on earth’ concept. Something about it being here, right now, and that it’s about our collective need to actually look for heaven… it’s here all the time and, perhaps for most of us, we just don’t ‘see it’ – we don’t appreciate all the beauty, creativity and humanity that surrounds us. Fundamentally, I think heaven is about kindness and helping others.

But what do I know?

There are lots of times when I think John Lennon got it right nearly fifty years ago in his “Imagine” song from 1971)(image: from my time on Iona in 2012):

Imagine there's no heaven

It's easy if you try

No hell below us

Above us only sky

Imagine all the people living for today

Imagine there's no countries

It isn't hard to do

Nothing to kill or die for

And no religion too

Imagine all the people living life in peace...

Thursday 2 April:

I love reading poetry, but I think I've written just one poem in the whole of my adult life (quite recently... last September, about the Referendum result). I'd love to have the ability to express my feelings in these difficult times through words/prose. This afternoon, I attempted to write something... and, although it's pretty poor, it feels important to 'get it down' anyway... (I might change it in due course!).

POEM

And so life goes on and we all need to learn 

To stay at home and to adjust to a new way of living.

‘Comforting’ ourselves with the words from 'on high',

Reassuring us they’re fully prepared, when we clearly know they’re not.

Resources and people being sorely stretched,

Safeguarding and testing very poor at best.

‘Fighting the enemy’ we constantly hear…

But we thank all the workers and give them a cheer.

Take Care. Be Kind.

None of us has quite been here before, so we’re all at sea.

Putting our houses in order - easier said than done.

Finding constant reminders of delights we’ve enjoyed,

Recalling those questions we always meant to ask…

And pausing to remember the special ones we knew.

Have we already hugged our loved ones for the very last time?  

Such sobering thoughts shake us to our souls.

Life is precious… so let’s make the most of each day.

Take Care. Be Kind.

Wednesday 1 April:

This may sound morbid (and it isn’t an April Fool’s joke!), but I’ve been reflecting on mortality (my own!). I think I’ve started to come to terms with the prospect that Moira+I won’t survive this pandemic.

Government figures, issued yesterday, provide the following details: “As of 9am on 31 March 2020, a total of 143,186 people have been tested, of which 25,150 were confirmed positive. As of 5pm on 30 March 2020, of those hospitalised in the UK, 1,789 have died”.

As things develop, I increasingly feel that the government has been incredibly slow to react (or even prepare) for the pandemic… it wasn’t until 1 March that Johnson held his first COBRA meeting.

A couple of days ago, we learnt that as many as 25% of doctors were off sick or in isolation. There is a huge shortage of ventilators and, if the virus continues to spread at its current rate, not enough nurses available to operate the equipment. Even now, there is a massive lack of protective clothing/equipment for NHS staff, care workers etc. The vulnerability of NHS workers is shameful… and, as the problem gets worse, there will be more staff off sick or in isolation… and therefore even more pressure on the remaining staff (and volunteers).

Testing for the virus has been appalling slow (this from The Guardian, 30 March: The government claimed that their daily 10,000 testing target had been reached.

“However, it turned out only 9,114 tests had been carried out… on Friday – falling to 8,278 tests on 4,908 patients on Saturday. The figures are well below the 10,000 daily tests promised by the government on 11 March and cast doubt on whether it would hit the next target of 25,000 daily tests within a fortnight. It shows the UK is lagging behind other countries such as Germany, which is testing 70,000 people daily, despite the World Health Organisation’s advice for countries to ‘test, test, test’”.

It seems to me that if the number of coronavirus cases gets beyond a certain figure then, given the huge pressure this will have on the resources of the NHS, that there could well come a time when the government has to make some incredibly difficult decisions. It would be impractical to try to treat everyone, so guidelines/rules would have to be drawn up regarding who can and should be treated. It seems only right (to me) that this should exclude the over-70s (in fact, I’ve seen reports suggesting that the ‘age limit’ might be put as low as 65).

This is obviously pretty sobering stuff! Suddenly, I find myself trying to recall the last time I hugged each family member… and realising that perhaps THAT would be the last time I was able to do so… and desperately wishing for a chance to hug them all ONE more time (I know)! In such a scenario, I have this rather beautiful vision of being able to use a magic wand to conjur up just a day in each of their individual company (completely unknown to them that this would the last time we’d meet up)… to do silly things; to laugh and joke; to recall particular memories; to walk along a beach together (maybe us all staying at Upper Saltings in St Ives?); to enjoy a meal together… and to tell them how much I love them.

Tuesday 31 March:

It’s now more than two weeks since I started this blog and, in that time, it seems as if the world has been turned upside down. Moira and I have been ‘fully self-isolating’ for the past 12 days or so – and we feel that this has definitely been the right decision for us. Over the past week, the government has been urging everyone to stay at home/work from home wherever possible. It’s been relatively easy for us, but it must pose huge problems for so many people (people living in cramped conditions; single parents; people living in abusive relationships; homeless/rough sleepers; people working in NHS-related jobs; police; supermarket workers etc etc). The government has today updated the UK coronavirus figures as follows: 19,522 confirmed cases of coronavirus and 1,228 deaths (compared with these figures from just 10 days ago, 18 March: 1,950confirmed cases, 407 new cases and 60 deaths)… a tenfold increase in cases and a 2,000% increase in deaths.

Very sobering.

note: referring back to the Italy graph, published a week or so ago, which was being used to give an indication of the UK projected figures… well, the projected number of UK total deaths, based on the Italian figures, would now be say 1,809 total deaths (ie. the actual UK figures are some 581 less). Slightly more positive news?

I’ve just started to read Jan Morris’s book “In My Mind’s Eye” (A Thought Diary)… it consists of 188 daily meditations.mewsings/rituals of her existence in north Wales. The subject range is wide (from cats to cars, travel to home etc) and it struck me that these reflections of mine perhaps shouldn’t be wholly focussed on the pandemic! So, maybe I’ll try to be a little open-minded about what I write in future…

Moira woke up on Sunday feeling pretty low – having spent some of the night trying to work out what we needed to do/should have already done (in the event of us being struck down by the virus) to ‘put our house in order’ – in terms, for example, of where to locate our wills, our computer passwords, bank and other money details. It might all sound a bit morbid, but also sensible in the circumstances. Will we actually get round to putting something in place, I wonder?

To underline just how difficult things are becoming for the NHS, the head of the Royal College of Physicians yesterday warned that around a quarter of NHS doctors are off work because they are sick or in isolation… and that this was obviously already seriously affecting emergency departments - and London is in a much worse position than elsewhere at the moment, but it will come to other places”.

Image: Lightwell sketchbook drawing.

Thursday 26 March:

For Moira and for me, self-isolation is inconvenient but manageable. No, we can’t go to shops, can’t meet up with family and friends, but we’re very fortunate to have a house of our own and to be retired and not needing to work.

Of course, like everyone else, we can’t go to cafés, bars, cinemas, theatres, galleries and the like (and obviously for the likes of people like me, we can’t sketch outside - beyond the garden)… but you learn to adjust and it’s not all that difficult to cope. There are no meetings to attend; committee responsibilities have been put on hold… suddenly, you realise you don’t have to keep consulting your diary.

And, of course, we have the internet (and so we can keep up with the news; be in touch with people via social media; get access to catch-up tv, films etc); telephone/mobiles; we can get outside for exercise… and, of course, there are always books to read; music to listen to; hobbies and projects to become involved with etc etc.

Part of me is irritated that, all of a sudden, there seem to be lots and lots of people who are now living the life of us retirees!

On reflection, I think there are three things that dominate our collective thoughts: a) the uncertainty, b) the prospect of becoming a coronavirus victim and c) being able to cope financially.

But then, I think of others… and as soon as I start to do so, the list of concerns just gets longer and longer. Here are just a few:

·         My asylum-seeker friend Zabiullah: how is he coping in his shared accommodation and without the daily routine of worshipping in his local Mosque?

·         The homeless and the rough-sleepers: eg. how is my rough-sleeping friend Phil coping (hardly anyone around to give him money etc)?

·         People working in the NHS… and all the other groups of workers (supermarkets/food stores, pharmacists, delivery people, bakers, teachers looking after children of ‘essential workers’, farmers, police etc etc)?

·         People living in abusive relationships?

·         Families living in cramped conditions?

·         Single-parents?

·         Various people on zero-contracts, self-employed, freelancers, minimum wagers etc?

·         People who live alone?

·         The aged? 

After the initial turmoil and countless stories of panic-buyers/food hoarders invading supermarkets, it seems that things have started to ‘calm down’… and supermarkets realising they have adapt their ways (eg. restricting number of customers; ‘distanced’ queuing arrangements) and also, by and large, customers realising that food IS available, if only they had patience. At present, however, online delivery slots have become like gold dust.

Going outside is a somewhat eerie experience. There are obviously far fewer people (and traffic) around and, at times, it feels quite eerie. 

Lots of instances of great kindness being shown by lots of individuals and, certainly, the vast majority of people are being wonderfully generous and considerate. Of course, one also comes across instances of people behaving abominably and ignoring the isolation rules and meeting up in large groups (eg. ‘Brit blokes’ in Spain drinking large quantities of alcohol and ignoring the police; my friend Annabel witnessing students from Exeter and Falmouth Universities in large numbers ignoring the current measures; youths in Bristol setting fire to supermarket home delivery vans and then stoning the police etc etc). I just hope that such instances don’t force the government into inflicting ‘total lockdown’ rules on us all. I have a horrible feeling that, ultimately, this might be the case… which would be pretty awful.

Sunday 22 March:

It seems to me as if the population divides into two distinctly separate camps: a) those who are taking all the warnings and recommendations totally seriously and adjusting their routines and lives accordingly (the government is stressing the need for ‘social distancing’ and to ‘stay at home if at all possible’… and tonight emphasising that the vulnerable should definitely ‘stay at home’)(who ARE the vulnerable?) and b) those who think it’s all ‘over-the-top’ and seem determined to continue much as before. Not having been into town for several days now, it’s difficult to get a clear picture but, certainly, the supermarkets seem to be overrun by queuing customers and panic-buying/hoarding seems widespread. The irony is that the more supermarket staff have to work in such circumstances, the more of them end up having to take time off work as a precaution, due to showing some of the early virus symptoms. The supermarkets themselves are desperately trying to recruit extra staff to ensure shelves are fully stocked (or as well stocked as availability allows)… and so the cycle continues. The incredibly hard-pressed NHS is suffering similar problems. With the schools now having shut, another concern being frequently expressed is the difficulty parents are having in trying to keep their older children (teenagers) at home or at least ‘social distancing’ from their friends. Certainly, even if my limited observations (on my daily non-people walks), I’m very aware of groups of young people messing around together – which is obviously far from ideal.

Interesting comparisons have been posted on social media contrasting the numbers of coronavirus sufferers in Italy and the UK (the numbers show a very similar week-on-week increase – and, bearing in mind that Italy is perhaps three months ‘ahead’ of the UK, the number of weekly deaths there currently amounts to something like 450 – although I’ve also seen reports today of the current weekly numbers being 651 and, in the UK, 281)(see the image for an outdated illustration).

What seems absolutely certain is that, when we emerge from this awful business (I refuse say ‘if’!), things will be very different. Hopefully, people will have changed… they will have a new respect for the simple joys of life, for others, for nature, for kindness, for civility, for generosity of spirit, a more equal society and the like… and that greed, ruthlessness, dishonesty, profit et al… will be things of the past.

A pipedream perhaps… but I live in hope.

Thursday 19 March:

Our first full day of self-isolation and it’s strange – almost unreal – to reflect that it was only this time last week that we were setting off to Oxford to celebrate Moira’s birthday.

So much seems to have changed in the past 7 days.

We feel relatively lucky. We’ll cope… but we’re also very aware of all those who are struggling and, for whom, things might only get worse over the coming weeks and months. I think the uncertainty about how long this virus will continue to affect our lives (and deaths?) only adds to the sense of unreality. If we knew ‘this’ was for, say, a month, then we could come to terms and adjust relatively easily… but what if this goes on until the Autumn… or this time next year... or even beyond that?

It feels somewhat ironic that, in these difficult times (and, remember, it’s Lent too), I feel very much as if I’m in a wilderness spiritually. I’ve been feeling like this for some months now… and I’m still searching for something that might provide support, focus and meaning. Trying to find suitable material (or inspiration) that might help me will be one of my ‘projects’.

We have a supermarket delivery due at the end of this week (just a routine order – no hoarding!) and we’ll endeavour to continue receiving these over the coming weeks… but, given the panic-buying/apparent hoarding mentality some people have demonstrated over recent days, one wonders if out ‘home delivery’ service will be able to cope.

Everyone seems, at long last, to have now realised the massive importance of doctors, nurses, NHS staff, food stores (including shelf-stackers!), people helping to maintain public utilities etc etc…

The important things in life.

We’re both aware of the need for us to establish routines that will help us cope over the coming weeks/months… walking; art (and other) projects; housework(!); morning coffee times; watching films; organising our reading (in my case, ensuring that I build in some ‘comfort reading’ that I know will lift my spirits); gardening (and actually sitting in the garden as the weather improves); sorting out our bookshelves (identifying books for re-cycling and perhaps coming across some we’d forgotten about); cooking; music (and composing new ‘playlists’); building in Skype/facetime sessions with family and friends (something I need to learn how to do!)… the list goes on (and that’s very healthy!).

Take care. Be kind.
Photo: 'Help Yourself Books' (around the corner from us in Greville Road).

Wednesday 18 March:

I’m fine in my own company, but am also very aware how important meeting up with family and friends on a regular basis. I somewhat glibly say that I’ll be able to cope without too much difficulty, but the reality might prove very different. Despite my deteriorating left hip, Moira and I are determined to get out and walk every day (until the government decides otherwise?). Similarly, I want to try to sketch in the open air on a very regular basis (no doubt also sketching from within the house or gazing out of windows)(no Old Vics, Watersheds etc for the foreseeable future!). The pattern of our days will probably be established very early on: chatting over coffee and lunch… as well as walking together and, for me, sketching (no classes, groups or committees!). I suppose we could also book a car club slot and drink to the coast for a walk? There’ll be reading, of course, and perhaps opportunities to read some ‘faith’ books in an effort to get myself out of my current spiritual wilderness? Drawing projects? Preparing mounts for the next Arts Trail (whenever that will be)? Catch up/re-watch on our various DVDs (and maybe even consider a Netfix subscription?)? Box sets (I started watching ‘MadMen’ ages ago… perhaps now’s to time to try again?)? Compile lots of music playlists? More cooking perhaps? Going through all our books and having a bit of a cull?

The list goes on… and on.