Surviving C19 Lockdown

 I love lists and I always hand write them, everyday, except Sunday. I have written a list of stuff I want to achieve while I have no actual photography work on. Some of it is doable, and some of it is not. But as long as I have a list I feel like I am at least doing something. And the satisfaction of crossing off stuff I have done, right now, is sadly the highlight of my day.... - Ring mum and grandma most days. - Spend as time as possible with Mia without her telling me she “needs her own space”. Even if it means my skin being drawn on in pen on as I sit next to her while we both worth try and work. - Play lots of board games, even if it’s by myself as Mia and Russ both enjoy “their own space”. (Make a list of one player board games) - Write one letter every day to people who I think would like to receive one. (Make a list of names) - Improve my handwriting so it is legible. - Continue writing this blog. - Start and finish the novel I have dreamed of writing for 20 years, get

I woke up this morning and cast my mind back to the events of the day before. Confused images of my mum dressed in party wear and running trainers, jogging down the street having completed a park run in New Earswick flashed in to my mind. A vision of her skipping in to a house party, bottle in hand, and becoming lost in a crowd of revelers. I remembered my panic as I braved the hoards of party goers, frantically trying to find her and remove her from the Corona Virus breeding ground before she inhaled any deadly particles or touched a surface infected with germs. The music was banging, the drunken people were squashed together like hill walkers on Snowden last weekend. It was horrendous, where was my mum and why was she here when she should be self isolating? This wasn't usual behavior for my peaceful, church going, bicycle riding, tea total, lovely and reserved 71 year old mum.... Then I realised it was all a dream. Thank God! At least something interesting is happening in my drea

Is it really Saturday? I wasn't sure when I woke up. Loosing track of days fast and it is only week 1.... I often work weekends, which is fine, as I love (not "loved" - I will be back!) my job, and I am so lucky that what I do doesn't feel like work. But I also love (and really appreciate) a weekend off to spend time with Mia, and go out to lovely places. Usually on these Saturdays I wake up with butterflies in my stomach, excited about the 2 days ahead. But today I awoke with the same sense of dread and worry that I have woken up with for the past few weeks, and more so in recent days. Dread for the situation the world is in, and worry for the UK, who are really only just starting on this journey. However, a Saturday off work is still a Saturday off work, and I am trying to normalise this shit as much as I can, so to mark the occasion I stayed in my pjs until 10am. I also treated myself to wearing make up on this special day, which I haven't done since Tuesday,

I wasn't going to post today as I have done nothing worth speaking of. I was feeling guilty sitting outside in the sun because I felt I should be "doing something". I slept in til 8.30am and then didn't do my exercise routine. I was feeling bad that my phone calls to the bank and various creditors failed to either get through or get any answers so I gave up. My marathon training hasn't yet started, I haven't written a novel and I still haven't lost 3 stone. And my grey hair is taking too long to grow out. But! Sitting outside in the beautiful sunshine I just put my book down, closed my eyes and thought. I can't remember the last time I had time to properly think. I thought about when this is all over (who knows when but one day) and I can go and see my mum and give her the biggest hug and tell her how much I love her and have missed her. And I thought about when I can go and see my grandma and sit with her and put the world to rights with a coffee an

So today I tackled my usually most hated job of the week. Cleaning the guinea pigs out. Normally this fills me with dread, it’s a big hutch with, after a week, lots of shit in it. In past weeks I do the dreaded clean out as soon as Mia is out the door to school, rushing round, trying to get it done before I set off for my days jobs. Today, however, was different. I rocked up to the hutch at an unheard of 9.40am. The sun was shining and I took my time, instead of rushing round like a crazed person to fit it in before work. I even shouted Mia out in to the garden and we held and stroked the guinea pigs for ages before putting them in to their lovely clean run for the day. I smiled as I picked the poo out from under my nails and realised, that actually, it’s not such a horrible job after all.... (ask me again on a busy work day when it’s pissing it down with rain and my opinion may have reverted back). Another good job done today was sweeping up the Autumn leaves up from the garden. Don

Today was the day after the night before.... This thing has been getting more and more scary by the day. But last night (Monday March 23rd 2020, a date which will be referred to many times in history books to come) at 8.30pm, it was official - the UK is in lockdown! Surreal doesn't even come in to it, even though we all knew it was going to happen (thanks people who crowded to the mountains and and coast at the weekend!) So, I officially have no jobs for the foreseeable future. Being self employed means no income. No income means no means of paying the bills or mortgage. And my photography business that I have lovingly built up over 20 years has a very uncertain future. As I know is the case for so many others at this difficult time. And I have a precious 11 year old daughter who needs schooling and entertaining. So today, I woke up (an hour later than usual - OK, it's not a holiday but it's not a work day either!) put on my gym outfit and went in to the studio to do a