Day 24 - Saturday 11th April
Disappointing news this morning - my yoga teacher is feeling unwell so class is cancelled. I send her "get well" wishes and hope it's not the start of CV. At 11am I join Morning Gloryville's online rave, and this time I'm immediately dancing around like nobody's watching (well, they're not!). An ex-colleague is also attending this morning and it's lovely to see her and her family bopping around on Facebook. She even manages to find me among the masses on the zoom call. Towards the end of the event the organisers select me to go full-screen which is not as embarrassing as I thought it would be. I'm beginning to recognise some of the other ravers, which is lovely. I really hope they continue this after the crisis - it's so much fun and great exercise. Manchester superclub The Hacienda is also streaming today, and Camp Bestival is having an online sleepover too.
I grab some leftovers for lunch and sit on the veranda to enjoy it. The weather is a little cooler today and the sunshine is hazy - good gardening weather, I think. I sit in the sun and finish reading Doughnut Economics then do some weeding. Hubby is gardening too. I pop in to get a drink and check my emails; a reminder has popped up telling me that I was supposed to be babysitting my grandson tonight. I ping a message to my daughter with a sad face and she suggests a call after his tea tonight.
The health secretary has attracted a lot of flack today for claiming that there's enough PPE to go round "if health workers use it appropriately". His words follow close behind the news that a doctor who raised the alarm three weeks ago about insufficient supplies of PPE has now died from the virus. On a day that almost 1,000 people died from the virus - a higher daily toll than any European country so far - some papers devoted their front page yesterday to the news that Boris Johnson was out of intensive care. We're all being advised to double-down on self-isolation while Britain basks in beautiful Easter sunshine.
My friend with COVID-19 is barely responding to the messages I send her; I can't tell whether she sees them as unwelcome or is feeling too unwell or depressed to engage. She's told me speaking is too difficult, so I'm forced to use text messages which I know can easily lead to misinterpretation and I'm finding it difficult to gauge the balance between sympathy and encouragement. She's all alone, feeling ill and afraid and even if it seems like she doesn't want me to, I will keep contacting her unless she specifically asks me not to. I hope her many other friends are doing the same.
We have a Skype call with my daughter and her family and it's lovely to see how confidently my grandson is now walking. Nobody has much news, since our lives have shrunk beyond recognition due to the restrictions and it's too easy for every conversation to be about the virus. Remarking on my grandson's activities and trying to engage him in games of peek-a-boo and encourage him to show off his new words are much more rewarding.
Quesadillas for dinner. Mine are filled with pulled pork substitute made from ageing banana skins, a hack I saw on social media. It's actually really good. Today I am grateful for the opportunity to dance. It has made me realise that it's on the of the things I need more of in my life when this is over.
I grab some leftovers for lunch and sit on the veranda to enjoy it. The weather is a little cooler today and the sunshine is hazy - good gardening weather, I think. I sit in the sun and finish reading Doughnut Economics then do some weeding. Hubby is gardening too. I pop in to get a drink and check my emails; a reminder has popped up telling me that I was supposed to be babysitting my grandson tonight. I ping a message to my daughter with a sad face and she suggests a call after his tea tonight.
The health secretary has attracted a lot of flack today for claiming that there's enough PPE to go round "if health workers use it appropriately". His words follow close behind the news that a doctor who raised the alarm three weeks ago about insufficient supplies of PPE has now died from the virus. On a day that almost 1,000 people died from the virus - a higher daily toll than any European country so far - some papers devoted their front page yesterday to the news that Boris Johnson was out of intensive care. We're all being advised to double-down on self-isolation while Britain basks in beautiful Easter sunshine.
My friend with COVID-19 is barely responding to the messages I send her; I can't tell whether she sees them as unwelcome or is feeling too unwell or depressed to engage. She's told me speaking is too difficult, so I'm forced to use text messages which I know can easily lead to misinterpretation and I'm finding it difficult to gauge the balance between sympathy and encouragement. She's all alone, feeling ill and afraid and even if it seems like she doesn't want me to, I will keep contacting her unless she specifically asks me not to. I hope her many other friends are doing the same.
We have a Skype call with my daughter and her family and it's lovely to see how confidently my grandson is now walking. Nobody has much news, since our lives have shrunk beyond recognition due to the restrictions and it's too easy for every conversation to be about the virus. Remarking on my grandson's activities and trying to engage him in games of peek-a-boo and encourage him to show off his new words are much more rewarding.
Quesadillas for dinner. Mine are filled with pulled pork substitute made from ageing banana skins, a hack I saw on social media. It's actually really good. Today I am grateful for the opportunity to dance. It has made me realise that it's on the of the things I need more of in my life when this is over.
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