Marie and Juan ask us if we've heard the news. The British prime minister is in intensive care. We'd caught the headline the previous evening so we'd got over our initial shock, moved onto indignation and then settled down in despair. Our European friends note that Boris had been visiting a hospital with Covid-19 patients and walked around shaking hands - exactly the kind of thing that you're not supposed to do. Hardly a great example. Meanwhile English friends in the US comment on how well Boris seems to be doing. But they're comparing him to Trump. Everyone looks good next to Trump.
We experience sudden mood swings. Sometimes, sitting with a good book in the yard in the sunshine, a woodpecker tap-tapping in a palm tree the only noise, I feel very happy. And then guilty. Then restless. Then happy again. It's not bad this quarantine business.
Listening to the BBC news is sometimes exasperating. The government press conferences seem patronising to me. Something in the tone of the ministers' speeches. It must be the repetition of the slogans and the reminder that "as always, we are guided by the advice of the scientists". The weasels. After a change in policy they're trying to catch up. Promises are made, but can they be met? Why make promises? Why not just explain what the problems are and how they're being addressed.
On many evenings I experience feelings of melancholy, amusement, anger, depression, anxiety, relief. These usually leave me with an undefinable (but I'll give it a go anyway) empty hollowness. Things improve radically when we stop watching Downton Abbey.
 |
| morale-boosting french crepes for breakfast thanks to Marie |
We experience sudden mood swings. Sometimes, sitting with a good book in the yard in the sunshine, a woodpecker tap-tapping in a palm tree the only noise, I feel very happy. And then guilty. Then restless. Then happy again. It's not bad this quarantine business.
 |
| Gayle is harvesting a huge wild tomato plant at the end of the driveway |
 |
| still thinking about updating the blog |
On many evenings I experience feelings of melancholy, amusement, anger, depression, anxiety, relief. These usually leave me with an undefinable (but I'll give it a go anyway) empty hollowness. Things improve radically when we stop watching Downton Abbey.
