Lockdown diary: Clocks spring forward but it feels as if time is standing still
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DAY six of full lockdown measures in the UK and we should be looking forward to brighter nights after the clocks went forward in the early hours of Sunday morning.
My lockdown Sunday has been a relatively lazy one, and I make no apologies for that. I am normally a very early riser, whether at work or at home, but today I stayed in bed until 12.30pm (new time, so technically I didn't waste the whole morning in a state of slumber).
I sent some funny stuff on WhatsApp and Messenger to friends and family, as much to make myself feel better and it helps to know that other people can maybe get a laugh from stuff you move along the social media conveyor belt.
The daily news catch up makes for sombre reading, which is the default setting right now; 177 countries worldwide now affected; 30,800 deaths at the time of writing; almost 700,000 confirmed cases worldwide.
Health chiefs are now saying stringent lockdown measures could last for up to 13 weeks and it could be six months before some measure of 'normality' returns.
The new kind of normal is gonna look a bit different when the world wakes up from this nightmare.
Video call to oldest daughter and her other half cheers me up; they are heading out for a cycle and run together. Both my daughters are among a great swathe of workers now classed as 'furloughed' by the Government and getting 80% of their wages for the foreseeable future.
Many people face an uncertain future financially and the country has a real challenge ahead to recover economically.
The gratitude that is sweeping the nation for health staff and other key workers is a real silver lining from the current situation and long may that continue well beyond the end of this pandemic.
My daily exercise so far has revolved aroud going up and down the stairs to take clothes to the washing machine; I may venture out later to touch base with the outside world.
Mental health is a big talking point across a range of platforms and something everyone is going to put front and centre of their thoughts.
'Reasons to Stay Alive' is a Sunday Times bestseller by Matt Haig, which describes how the author came through crisis and triumphed over mental illness.
Reading a book, in normal circumstances, is a great escape from the worries of everyday life, so in Covid-19 lockdown, picking up a good book and getting lost in the pages is one of the self-preservation tools at our disposal. Music, films, exercise, conversation - some of the others.
I had reason to read Matt Haig's excellent book during an earlier period in my life when nothing was 'normal'; I have picked up his witty and emotional 279-page lifesaver again and if you get the chance, give it a read. Everybody has mental health, good , bad or indifferent depending on where you are in life, and in the current climate it is so important that we realise it is and will be OK not to be okay at times; the key is to be kind to yourself and others.
If I had a pound for every time I have heard the expression, 'We are all in the same boat', I would be a rich man by now but it is so true.
Right enough of the psycho-babble stuff as I have no professional or even amateur qualifications which would allow me to dispense sound advice in that department.
The daffodils are poking their heads through the ground and a dash of yellow in the gardens is just what we need to feel at one with nature and optimistic about the next few weeks ahead.
I was going to cut my grass today but, quite simply, I couldn't be bothered, so will leave that for a future lockdown day, but I did take a few minutes to stare at the daffodils in my garden. It has to be said that I cannot take the credit for the existence of the daffies at my gaff, as they were planted by the previous tenant, so wherever you are Mr and Mrs Evans, thank you and I hope you are staying safe.
I have a bird clock in my living room which belts out a classic garden bird song on the hour. We are rapidly approaching Barn Owl O'Clock, or in layman's terms 6pm. It belonged to my late father and was a present to him on Father's Day a number of years ago. Towards the end of his life he hated the bloody clock because it would strike up when he was least expecting it, so after he died I agreed to give it a new home in Lossiemouth.
Who knows, I may even hate that clock by the end of lockdown....watch this space.
Stay safe people, until next time.....
