The gloves for my arthritic hand(s) arrived today. I’m wearing just one on the worse hand and it does seem to be helping. Might even try knitting again – tomorrow night perhaps. I’d rather wear a funny old glove than take painkillers, not least because you can’t always get the painkillers at the moment. 🤷‍♂️

After the doctor’s surgery phoned us, we seem to be on the list for supermarket deliveries (not Sainsbury’s, however, just Waitrose – maybe they use different databases) which has eased my anxiety somewhat. It’s still difficult to find delivery slots, but at least there are some.

Poor old Boris. Not quite so invincible as he thought, after boasting a few weeks ago that he would continue to shake hands with everybody, even those with coronavirus. I don’t wish him ill, and actually hope he gets better, but honestly.

Twice a week we do a video chat with the five year old grandson in Southampton. It’s always entertaining. Clothes – meh, they’re just a nuisance, according to him. Wearing clothes simply creates washing, apparently. I sing him a couple of songs (the Welly Song by Billy Connolly and Mud, Mud, Glorious Mud by Flanders and Swann) and today I did Forgiven (A A Milne) and Jabberwocky(Lewis Carroll) [If English is not your first language, be warned that Jabberwocky is full of nonsensical, invented words.] He liked them both, having checked that Jabberwocky included death. It does. So that was fine.

Went for a walk round the block – about 8 minutes I’d say, depending on my walking speed. I also bumped into a particularly interesting feline, who hates our cat, in our garden, but loves anybody who is walking along the road. I think it’s a female. Long-haired, slightly pushed-in face, grey and brown colouring, and a very assertive miaow. Yeah. Hubby had to rescue her once from next door’s roof. With a ladder. At 5 am. Mm. Luckily nobody saw him and called the police . . . . .

The postal service seems to be almost normal now. I think that our post office workers, our refuse collectors, our street cleaners, all our public service workers, supermarket workers, and particularly our doctors, nurses and pharmacies, are doing an absolutely wonderful, wonderful job. It’s all so fraught, and everybody is potentially in danger, but they’re just carrying on. Strict rules of course about keeping your distance from others, and some items are rationed in the shops, but fair enough, that’s just fine with me.

I do worry though about people with children of any age stuck in a high-rise flat. How on earth would you manage? I’d go bonkers in very short order, I know that.

weestorybook says that lockdown is mildly conducive to online shopping (I paraphrase). Mildly? Mildly?? here on planet loonyfeminist, it’s my new hobby. Just ordered some new tops, some from Laura Ashley, some from Seasalt, and then received an email from Seasalt telling me that one of the tops (my very favourite of course) wasn’t actually available. It took me all day to realise that I could get it elsewhere. So I did.