After days of rain and cold weather, today is brilliantly sunny. Yesterday's headache has lingered. I'm tired and a bit under the weather, in spite of the weather. It's a feeling which becomes magnified in these times, even though I know there's nothing wrong. There couldn't be. I've been nowhere, seen no one except at a distance. It's probably that my cheerfulness has run out of steam now that the end's in sight. I'll take it easy and hope to regain my usual optimism. After my morning routine I sit on the doorstep in the sun, reading Grace Paley's quirky and clever short stories. A cheery meter reader comes down the steps and exchanges a few words as he goes round the house to the meter. My mood's improving already.
Another boost comes from my friend who visits after her weekly shop. Luckily it's warm enough to sit in the sun with the outdoor table between us. We share the news and exchange tips about useful online sites, including Sarb Johal's for mental well-being tips and somewhere to buy cosy merino thermals for the winter. It's great to catch up but our time together ends when the sun goes behind the house next door and we get too chilly.
I have a little nap after lunch and go for a walk in the sun. It's too windy for biking and the tide's wrong for swimming so walking is enough for today. On the way home I queue at the fish shop and bring fresh fish home for the first time in weeks.
As I walk back a poem starts to form in my mind, with the rhythm of my gait. My piano teacher's booklet is about how to write a song and she has examples for the children about a family of rabbits. I'm thinking of something more contemporary. At home I write it down and read it aloud - it could work.
A call from my son finishes the afternoon nicely. I can hear the baby on his lap, we talk about future plans, including his team returning to the office and my intention to visit the family as soon as it's feasible. the seven year old asks to speak to me and inquires, 'How's lockdown?' I explain a bit about it and he says encouragingly, 'You have a cat to cuddle.' He reads his story to me. It's about what he saw on his walk. It's a good story, read confidently.
They leave to have their dinner and I cook mine. The fish is delicious and Po appreciates the piece I share with her.