A better world?

Easter Saturday

I'm finding it difficult to blog at the moment as in some ways and for some people so much is happening and in/for others nothing. I know that so many people are fighting to survive or working long hours to keep the country afloat, and I'm scared of hitting the wrong note, of saying something crass.

Frog’s amazing niece K for instance, who lives in Manchester, lost all her income when the country locked down, and lived off piecemeal work for several weeks (stacking supermarket shelves, sorting online orders, guarding empty hotels at night), has just landed a job supervising hostels for the homeless set up by the city council in all the empty hotels. This is dangerous and difficult work and she reminds me of those women who enlisted as nurses during the First World War.

    ‘You must record what’s going on,’ I said to her on the phone yesterday. ‘These are historic times. You’re in the front line. Keep a diary. Take photographs.’

    ‘Mmm,’ she said sounding interested. ‘I could start a blog.’

    ‘I can’t wait to read it,’ I said.

For Frog and me, on the other hand, not much has changed. We work on the house and garden. I sew and walk the dog and try to write. We speak to neighbours over garden gates and when we meet on roads and paths. We have enough money to live on and we have each other.

    Except that everything’s changed.

    Because there's no knowing how long the lockdown will last, I’ve lost all sense of urgency. Time and the days of the week no longer matter. Without aeroplanes and road traffic, absolute silence prevails (apart from the birds and their glorious spring songs). I have that rest, that pause, I’ve longed for for so long.

    And somehow, I have the sense that when this is over (if it ever is), we will all wake up to a completely different world.

    A better one, I hope.