The numbers are down, the economy is in free-fall and Sally’s portrait refuses to be moved on; I mean there’s nothing new to be learnt. I’ve painted hands, faces, dogs and hair- the tricky parts of a portrait, but still I work my brush over and over the canvas, striving for perfection in my art. This period leads me to think of all that I had promised myself I would do during lockdown. Firstly reversing my diabetes, surely the best thing I can do to protect myself from going downhill fast should I catch the dreaded lurgy. I started well but the longer this period of uncertainty continues the more my malaise sets in. My energetic walks become less- I blame the inconsiderate joggers and cyclists that carve me up when I venture outside. My mind battles non-stop, struggling to make sense of the obvious common sense approach versus the fear and paranoia this government is peddling. Non-conformist by nature, and with a ‘to hell with it’ attitude this current dithering is driving me nuts. I’m eating more snacks and finding fault with every goddam app I downloaded (some at great expense) from the web that would supposedly have me fit and honed for our early summer holiday.

Now there’s a thing, what’s to stop us actually going? The bulk of the borders within Europe have just re-opened but our government says no, or rather you shouldn’t. The ferries are sailing, the current advice being to wear a mask whilst on board. The French are happy to confirm that we are more than welcome should we come, although we should self quarantine once we drive off the ferry. Hmmm, and should we dare to return to England before the ridiculous quarantine is dropped like a hot potato then we will have to self quarantine for two weeks once we get back to Blighty. Never have reciprocal travel edits been more about politics and less about health and safety over Covid.

I no longer drink alcohol, having recently passed five years sober but my intake of non-alcoholic wines is up. Boris’ latest call to arms is ‘watch this space’ and I say to him, “Quite. But just how big is that space, Boris? 2 meters, or one??”

Will we go to France? All I can say is watch this space.

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