So it turns out that six weeks is how doing it takes (me) to really need to spend some time out of the house. Because if it was just a case of sucking this up for 12 weeks even, that would be fine. But with the current prospect of being in a weird state of lockdown-with-being-able-to-do-a-few-things-with-a-few-people-in-home-only for the foreseeable, which could be all year = or even, god forbid, longer – it seemed the right time to think about what is our definition of 'acceptable risk'.
Because that's what life is going to be about for quite a while to come, unless some fantastic break through happens. And none of us can stay in, on our own, indefinitely.
So we will all have to work out what level of exposure we feel okay with. What is our amount and type of acceptable risk. Not blasé about, because that would be plain madness. But ok with. Or otherwise you have to live every day in a state of fear. And I've already lost way to much sleep over this fucker already. As I know will many other people.
So I've decided that I have to get out of the house. Not once a week or every single day, but maybe 2-4 times. And brilliantly we have now found somewhere that we can both walk without bumping into lots of people and let Scrumpy off the lead. Richmond Park, you beauty. OK, so dogs are 'strongly advised' to be on the lead, but that doesn't;t mean they HAVE to be, and as its foot passengers only coming in there, there is a pile of open green space where she wasn't bother anyone, and where we can breath in the air without fear of being shouted at by some nimby. David Rea, top tip, thank you.
And we know that soon, once this stage of lockdown is over, we will think about having a couple of people into the house at a time. All depending on their own circumstances – sadly, people with kids in school or those travelling on public transport or working in hospitals, may not feel safe enough to us for now. But others in a similar boat might well do. So we will see, and just having that little carrot dangling for a week or two's time feels nice. Although for now, tea and chats on the drive in the afternoon sun remain a right treat – cheers Mikey, Margo & the kids for the cupcakes and 2 tins of baked beans – the culinary delight we were short of to go with this week's naughty dinner of chicken kievs. Not sure Emmy was having her best moment in this pic, but she did manage to stroke Scrumpy nice and gently, so both were happy.
Hawksey is still taking to 'his babies' (the plants) – another good reason for thinking about a change of scenery every now and again! And he was very excited when his latest bit of garden kit arrived this week. Neptune beware..
We also had a driveway visit this week from Ross, dropping off the highly valuable currency of tomato grow bags, and Clare & Andy popping by to collect a couple for themselves. Enough that we had a spare one to give to the very polite teenage girls next door, who then baked us both a huge carrot cake (yep, put mine to absolute shame) and some chocolate chip cookies as a thank you. We are going to have to up the exercise quotient at this rate…
And in the absence of being able to get out for a pub lunch, we decided to recreate one of my top pub faves at home. Tuna sandwich and chips for lunch, bloody marvellous, was just missing the pint of blackcurrant and soda on the side.. And beyond that, it's been pina coladas and honeycomb crunch with tea in the sun trap corner of the garden – the little pleasures of week 6, as we head onwards into lockdown. You've got to keep looking for the small joys each day, and hopefully soon enough some of the bigger ones will come back. And when they do, just how much we will treasure them.
Time to get the Sunday roast chicken on before tonight's Zoom calls, stay safe out there dear friends x