Things were very quiet yesterday. Parent and child outside every now and again, a car or two parking up and being unloaded, dogs being walked – that was about it.
I am happy enough at home, if truth be told, and our little terrace is recessed and walled, self-isolated, even. I can sit out there and be at least two metres from our neighbours, and with a wall in between, so I think that we shall be okay.
Dylan is really the only member of the household to be moving freely, but he is a homeboy and delights in our laps, so his sojourns outside are mainly to check that there are no uninvited felines in the area. Once done he is back in for pick ups and carries and cuddles.
I am sure that for Dylan the lock down could last indefinitely if it meant that he would never be left at home alone, but I imagine that the rest of us could get a little stir crazy after a while. For me it represents an even better opportunity to get some kind of routine in place, for all those trips here, there and everywhere are now strictly forbidden and will be for at least three weeks.
After all the kerfuffle of the past few days, the grab-it-while-you-can walks in the fields and the saying goodbye, possibly permanently, to local businesses, it is time to refocus on writing, even if the purpose of it might have changed a little. Even without the performances and with fewer commissions and competitions there is more than enough that can be done to reinforce my technique.