annanotbob2's Diaryland Diary


Day 66

How many days of this can we do?

I went to my sister's field where she keeps her horses today and walked with her around the lanes and although we didn't touch each other we didn't really keep the 2m distance properly - it seemed kind of mental out in the countryside with just trees and fields and horses and she's my sister and her husband has COPD so she's generally been careful, or says she has, because of him, but I feel really worried that we'll slide into not being careful enough. 1A41FFD9-031B-4EFC-9839-F4C024DAE0BA

I woke up this morning and found an email giving me the link to a writers' workshop I'd forgotten I'd signed up for, part of the Stay At Home Lit Fringe Festival - every festival has to have a fringe, it seems. About joy. In half an hour's time. Meh. I was tired and grumpy and had planned on being lazy, but couldn't quite live with being grumpy and not going to a thing about joy when it was on offer, so I went and it did cheer me up. I usually copy out what I write at these things but it's upstairs and I can't be arsed to go and fetch it. I missed a bit of the point but I wrote about things that made me happy on and off for an hour, and that does the trick. It was based on the five senses - we need a moratorium on the fucking five senses, Jesus - what does happiness smell like, that kind of thing.

So I did that in my nightie with a cardigan on top, then got dressed and went to singing, which was OK but not great. One of the blokes, an old bloke who thinks he's entitled to be listened to whatever he has to say, for however long - a common affliction among old blokes - had worked out how to put up a backdrop for himself on zoom. He told us it was of the River Ouse. One of the old women said, "I don't know where the River Ouse is," which led to a free for all, as everyone tried to either tell her or say that they didn't know either. which went on for ages until the leader of the group finally pulled the plug and we did our warm-up breathing exercises, during which she unmuted us. A latecomer arrived, said, "Oh, Pablo, where are you?" "That's the River Ouse!" "Really! I don't know where the River Ouse is!" - exactly the same words and I wanted to Kill Them All.

This evening I had an email from my cousin, offering live stream to the crematorium on Monday for his mother's funeral. My aunt. My favourite aunt. She died weeks ago - there's such a backlog. Only ten people are allowed, which will be her immediate family and their spouses. One of my ex-pupils, a young man I've kept in touch with, brought up by his grandparents, who both developed dementia (his parents died in a car crash when he was 8), has been organising his grandmother's funeral, with a much shorter delay. So hard. His grandfather is at home with him, in his 90s, not knowing what's going on, needing physical and emotional care, and no help available. It's a lot for a person to have to take on when they're grieving themselves, with no support for that either. He's worried about how Grandad will be on the day, everyone in masks, no hugging, only ten people.

OK, bed now. I've booked in to do 5 Rhythms tomorrow morning as my body is all seized up - I need to shake all that shit out, preferably to loud dance music at ten in the morning, in the back room. Fuck the neighbours.

I am grateful for: my health; my family; living near the open countryside; an afternoon with Sis where we didn't fall out; chocolate

12:37 a.m. - 17.05.20


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