Corona Diaries

Rowan

“I have an awful dread that we might die but also that we might have to bear losing people close to us…”

Background Information

Female, aged 65-74, Psychotherapist, South East London, White British, Married, Lesbian.

February and March 2020

Let me first tell you about the person whose experiences in the 2020 corona virus pandemic are being

recorded here.

I am a woman of 72 years, born in Yorkshire but living for over 40 years in South East London. My partner

Fern who was born and bred in the East End of London is three years younger, we've been together for

over thirty years and married in the eyes of the state since 2005.

We are both retired state secondary school teachers; I went on to train as a psychotherapist and am still

working two days a week, one as a volunteer for a national mental health charity and one in my own low-

cost private practice in central London.

Both of us are from working class families. We consider ourselves integrated but not assimilated into the

middle classes. We own our own house are financially secure and both hold season tickets for West Ham

football club.

We visit Austria, Fern’s mother's homeland, about four times a year. With no cases reported there despite

the lockdown in some north-east Italian towns, we saw no reason not to leave as planned for a holiday

break in the last week of February especially as Fern was recovering from shingles and the GP had

recommended relaxation and rest.

The diary begins in Austria.

23rd February Villach.

We visited Brigitta at teatime to catch up with her news and as usual to review the state of the world since

we last met. Brexit has been on the agenda for the last three years but today she was most concerned

about the virus and no wonder as the Italian border is only ten miles from Villach and daily comings and

goings between the two countries have always been a big part of the life of the town. She was resigned to

its arrival in Austria and to being able to do nothing but accept that if she gets it, she gets it. We’re

wondering if we’ve done the right thing coming here, even more so when we watched the evening news

and saw police checks at the Tarvis border and heard that Venice had cancelled the last two days of

Carnival.

25th February.

The first two cases of corona virus were reported in Innsbruck today. I feel a bit panicky in case the

Austrians decide to take immediate measures to contain the spread and we can’t get home easily or in my

worst fantasies get home at all. I found myself not wanting to sit next to a table of Italians when we came

into the Brauhaus and giving Italian voices in the street a wide berth, a completely irrational and primitive

paranoia that I recognise from the time of Aids when I visited Alex and worried about the chair, the cups,

the bathroom and I don’t know what else.

As Villach went ahead with its Carnival last weekend and Fern’s immune system is already down, we have

decided not to swim at the spa with all its Italian guests and to avoid crowded places from now on.

26th February.

The television has no news except what we must do if we think we have the virus and endless speculations

about what might happen over the next weeks. We tried to buy masks and hand sanitisers this afternoon,

but all the shops had sold out. Another case today in Bad Kleinkirchheim, the first in Karnten and worryingly

close. Suddenly it's all happening here.

29th February London.

A horrible flight with buffeting wind both on take off and landing . We were nervous about being confined in

a plane with people who may be carrying the virus. And when we were home we wondered if we might

have picked it up during the week away and are bringing it to the UK and to everyone we meet over the

next few days. I waver between thinking I'm being over-dramatic and then feeling I'd be guilty indeed if we

ignore the possibility and infected others Two voices, one don't be silly, get a grip and the other what were

you thinking not taking more care? are fighting it out.

2nd March.

I went to Tesco first thing and bought about £25 worth of tinned food including the essential Heinz tomato

soup, lemsip and paracetamol in case we get ill and have to self-isolate. Fern made some on-line delivery

bookings too just in case. The “get a grip it's very unlikely you’ve caught the virus, don't be dramatic” part of

me took myself into work later and sure enough I got a very hurt and baffled response from Paula on

reception when I said that I was not giving hugs from now on and an elbow bump was what I’d decided to

do for the time being because of the virus.

“Oh you poor thing, you ‘re worried", she said, “it's ok, I ain’t got the virus. You shouldn’t worry so much, it's

not like you.” She then told everyone who came into reception that I was worried about getting the virus and

had got into a state about it and what a shame it was as I was usually so calm. She was disappointed in me

and took what I'd said as a personal rejection, a change in me that was out of all proportion to the threat, a

bit hysterical even.

After a week in Austria I have a different take on what is inevitably on its way to the UK and reluctantly had

to take it on the chin that others didn't see it the same way. I felt rather embarrassed and irritated though.

There was the same slightly baffled response from colleagues too. I noticed there were no hand sanitisers

at the drop- in of about 25 people. “What are we doing about the virus? I asked. “Oh yes the virus, I

suppose we should be thinking about that”…no-one is getting it at the moment.

Carol emailed to say Tristan and family had missed flying back for the Chicago job as his firm stopped all

foreign travel. She’s disappointed that they decided not to come back to Canada under their own steam

and sit out the epidemic with her and Mick.

3rd March.

Up to town on the train rather nervously. They are saying that the virus is especially serious for our age

group and that many of us could die from it. Thinking around our friends, so many have long-term health

problems; I have an awful dread that we might die but also that we might have to bear losing people close

to us. None of the colleagues I spoke to between sessions had given any thought to what they'll do if it

becomes too risky to see clients face to face. I am far more nervous now than I'm letting on to most people

as they seem to think I'm over- reacting. I wish Fern was not going out to the bowls club so often and I can't

see her wanting to stop the golf.

I had a great urge to see Lola, aware that we might not be able to get about freely before too long so went

over after work not enjoying being shut in on the tube with lots of others. She was surprised I think that I

went on a workday when I'm usually all listened out, but pleased to see me. And agreed it might be the last

time for a while.

5th March.

To Pam’s for a coffee and an exchange of views about what we should do now at 70+ when we have

suddenly become the most vulnerable in this situation, both of us agreeing that all chosen family would be

there for one another if we got ill but that whatever precautions and care we take, it's still a bit of a lottery

whether we catch it or not. She thinks we four are all in such good nick for our age that we'd be unlikely to

die. Mm, not so sure. But we agreed if the worst is we’re going to have to do is hunker down at home for a

couple of months to be safe it’s no real problem to do that.

6th March.

Tired from a busy week of people but because I’ve been thinking this is probably going to be the last

ordinary week before things start changing and shutting down I suggested a trip to John Lewis to buy things

that have been on the list for ages. Fern wants the milk frother she asked for at Christmas and which Steve

never bought her because he refused to install What’s App on his phone and consequently never had sight

of her requests list. Also a new kettle, a coffee grinder and teaspoons. Hardly emergency supplies but

morale boosting.

Train to Victoria to the women’s liturgy which we knew would be the last for a long while if not for ever as

we are all over 70 and some over 80 and after Jaqueline’s death last year we’ve been wondering if we

should call it a day. I feel as if I’m dodging about just getting things done but all the time I'm watching for

people coughing or sneezing and moving away from them. It still feels rude somehow to do anything but

carry on as usual and moving away if they catch what you're doing is awkward. On both sides. A couple of

people have said to me in a hurt and angry way that they don’t have the virus; it's as if they are being

accused of something shameful.

And whatever's coming I hope it means we can stay at home without having to deal any more with other

people's posturing that they're just carrying on not letting worry about a little virus get in the way of their

plans; subtext....unlike the precious neurotics who are getting their knickers in a twist about this.

The Standard headline at Victoria station tonight confirmed that it’s now an epidemic.

7th March.

I contacted Martha at last. She commented what a liberation it is to be in Cambridge now that the daily bus

loads of mainly Far Eastern tourists have completely disappeared. It’s just the residents and the students

now, so much less traffic that she and Harry arrived for a book launch this week about 45 minutes earlier

than it would usually take. She says it feels like getting their town back.

Things are surely inching towards a major disruption soon. Fern and I had a row about whether it was

reckless for her to go to the West Ham match and in the end she decided not to take the risk. I’m realising

there’s a problem if you have different assessments of risk because if one of us gets ill the other will too.

Very hard not to get into an overwrought argument and I am by far more anxious that Fern is.

I'm wanting to get into safety ahead of the government measures. My worst fear is to contract the virus,

need hospitalization at the peak of the epidemic in London and find myself in a chaotic hospital with

someone having to decide if I merit a ventilator or not; there are not enough to go round at the moment.

The scenes from Italy really scare me.

Yolanda has taken a picture of her children and made her husband carry it at all times in case he needs to

compete for a ventilator...”I’ve told him, show them the picture, say you've got children". I wouldn't want to

be in the last lifeboat with Yolanda. You'd never sleep.

9th March.

I'm amazed: Cassandra leaves today for three day jaunt round the art galleries in Rotterdam, Janice and

Lois are flying to Spain for a week’s holiday and Paul is going to France for ten days. Are they mad?

Nothing would induce us to travel anywhere now, never mind abroad.

There seem to be two camps: people for whom the virus is still a distant threat or who have closed their

minds completely to it and those who have already begun socially-distancing to limit their risk of catching it.

I’m hating this muddle and lack of clarity. The government says carry on as normal which gives those

wanting to say it's nothing to get too concerned about every justification for putting their heads in the sand.

I'm still finding the advice to not touch your face hard to follow but felt less of a dummy after finding an

article about how touching your face stimulates the parasympathetic nervous system to release comforting

hormones, hence difficult to give up. Yet another thing to make yourself do differently. It's tiring being on the

alert all the time, not getting it right and then worrying.

I spoke to clients and the clinical manager today to give notice that I would be socially distancing soon. She

was very supportive of whatever decision I wanted to make considering my age. This is proving a big

reminder of my age which I don’t usually think much about at work and certainly I hate being defined by it.

There’s still nothing in place to protect service users and staff. Hollie alarmed me further in supervision by

saying the building, cramped at the best of times, was always a petri dish for infections as so many people

come and go over the week. With so many with chaotic lives, poor health and taking debilitating

medications that affect the immune system, I’m on edge there now and decided that I won't go in again

after today.

10th March.

Up to London Bridge again but this will certainly be for the last time. I booked an extra hour in the room in

order to have my lunch which I'd taken from home to save having to go into the communal refectory. It’s

against the rules to eat and drink in the room but I didn't care and was careful to leave no traces.

I spent time reassuring each client that our work would continue even if we had to move to phone or

facetime and as we'd already begun discussions last week, things went fairly smoothly. No-one is pleased

about the disruption, but it helps that Boris has flagged up that social distancing measures that will be

coming in soon. It helps me that the changes are coming in for everyone and that the changes are not just

some personal quirks of mine or worse, a failure of nerve. Oh, vanity as my nerve is only just about holding

up.

I have a big dilemma about Charlie’s play on Friday. It feels reckless to sit with hundreds of others in a

theatre in town never mind travel there at the height of the rush hour. She will be hurt but the play is all

there is in the world for her at the moment and she can’t see that I might have different priorities, especially

with Fern still getting over shingles. Neither factor will be enough for an adequate excuse. I’m thinking

about what that would be. I may have to tell a fib if I can think of one.

Fern and I are working on building up our immune systems with manuka honey and breathing exercises.

Every little might help or so we tell ourselves.

12th March.

Boris made a grim speech about how we will all lose loved ones in the weeks ahead; it really unnerved me

as he seems already to be signalling that the NHS won't be able to cope. Dying is one thing but lying

without any treatment or being triaged and assessed for my chances of survival and rejected because I'm

over 70 and left to die really terrifies me. It seems a long time before the June peak is reached and I

wonder if it would be easier to get the virus now and just get it over with. I still have this great fear of the

peak in London.

Hollie has taken Maiya out of school to general family disapproval and the three of them are now socially

distancing. I feel cross that their first instinct is self when as relatively young people in their forties I would

have liked them to be thinking how they could help those who are going to need practical support. Ok that

includes us but they also don't think community either. I'm making probably unfair comparisons with Krissie

and Terry who have contacted all their neighbours straight away to offer support.

Perhaps I'm being particularly sensitive about this having had to turn down a request yesterday to help at

the food bank. I was hoping they would step up for something like that but now they've made their decision

I don't feel I can mention it. Anyway I suppose they’re free to make their own minds up especially with a five

year old to consider. All we 70+ will have to do is stay at home, stay well and not trouble the NHS by getting

I’ll. I keep telling myself this.

Several texts and emails today cancelling arrangements, Iris’ 70th party has gone because of the risk to

June after her chemo. I'm relieved.

I cannot believe that the Cheltenham races are being allowed to go on; all those people together from all

over the country! I expect the horsey set have put pressure on their contacts in high places. Some idiot will

be telling us that it brings so much money into the town and so many jobs are dependent on it, all the usual

money first arguments from the Tories. And why have we still got plane loads of people flying in every day

from China and Italy? It seems against all common sense.

I rang Edna who says she'll get even fewer visitors now as many of her friends are too afraid of bringing

the virus into the house of a 92 year old. I’ll try and ring her more often.

13th March.

I pulled out of the theatre visit without causing any offence. Only a work excuse would do so the meeting

about the new procedures for when the building closes got me out of it very neatly though I did bend the

truth a bit about where and when it was going to be.

14th March.

I rang all my clients to move them onto phone contact from next week. I’m feeling scared, tired and wired

after a heavy week just getting everything organised so I can put it all down and stay home.

Called at Pam’s to touch base about how we all are at the end of this last week; after being so careful for so

long I was annoyed that she carelessly coughed right in my face. I will try not to dwell on it for the next two

weeks.

As we were leaving, I moved aside away from a couple of men who were walking up the street.” It’s alright

love, I ain't got the virus”. I shouted back “No but I might have". It doesn't occur to him that he might be at

risk from me. If anyone was going to be giving anyone the virus, that was his prerogative.

Fern still has commitments before we can completely self-isolate. A championship semi-final match which I

can hardly ask her not to play in and a last game of golf. I wish they were over, and we could close the door

and no longer be out there.

15th March.

It's a similar feeling to waiting for medical test results, that there is no open road ahead, and that with this

virus I may die in the next few weeks. And die horribly. I needed the comfort of nature this morning so we

headed off to Greenwich Park as soon as Ritta arrived for the fortnightly clean.

It was calming, trees and flowers in bloom and noticeably fewer people about. As always the walking

grounded me and the sight of the Thames still rolling along and the sense of Dad sitting with his beer and

cigar outside the Trafalgar helped me get back some of my nerve.

But I made a silly mistake when I got home by searching on-line and in yesterday's Guardian for

reassurance that it won’t be as bad as I fear and found there was none to be had. We over- 70s will have

to be in isolation for four months and be dependent on others for everything we need, Europe's gone into

lockdown, and we haven't so the virus is spreading, terrible images and stories from Italy, not enough

ventilators here for everyone who might need one and thousands of UK deaths are predicted. It’s

overwhelming. By the time Fern came back from her bowls match I was in a state.

I want to go into isolation immediately. But...my mind racing...what if she didn't want that or what if she

wouldn't stay in, what if she'll be so unhappy without her sport that we'll not manage this four months

isolation without tensions, what if she doesn't follow the guidelines and puts me at risk? I met her at the

door babbling about what I had read and what we must do to stay safe. A meltdown of fantasies and very

little to do with the Fern I know and love.

She was very patient with me; we'll be doing this together as we always do, she said and I'll be fine about

the sport, no problem. She will however meet the bowlers again tomorrow for the last time and play golf on

Thursday which is not great for me but I was sane enough by then to accept it. I did feel mean that a part of

me was relieved that she'd lost the semi-final and won't have to play in the final at the end of next week.

Pat and Hollie both rang for long conversations about the situation now. Hollie at 40-odd is in a state of

anxiety too. She’s feeling that we 70 +ers might be tempted to bend the sheltering rules and take all sorts

of risks, get infected and die; basically that we won't do as we're told. Not so different from my struggle

about others having the autonomy to make their own decisions in a shared situation where the stakes are

high, life and death even. We're both looking to get some sense of control over something or someone

when there’s none to be had over the virus.

Nicole is very worried about keeping her Mum safe when the bathroom work starts tomorrow but they are

going ahead after deciding her Mum can isolate in the bedroom. She feels it’s now or never to get in a

bathroom that Edna can use easily and that leaving her at 89 with the old one through whatever is coming

is the worst possible option.

Harriet rang to say her daughter and family have the virus. Craig was sent home from work because

someone in the office had symptoms and promptly gave it to his wife and children. Paul’s daughter and

family too all have it including his ex-wife who looks after the children regularly. She's over 70 which is

worrying.

I'm beginning to obsess a bit about how to make sure the virus doesn't get into the house, what needs to be

disinfected etc. but after today’s roller coaster I’ve decided to ration the amount of TV news I watch; it's wall

to wall coverage now and goes over the same old ground endlessly.

March 16th.

After thoroughly cleaning my upstairs room, there are still ornaments and papers to put back or find a new

place for, all of which I've found soothing. Restoring order I think. The threat from the virus seems to be

everywhere, on door handles, plastics, cardboard and stainless steel, particularly anywhere the general

public touches frequently.

I found myself trawling through the internet for information about how long the virus can survive and it was

not reassuring as on some surfaces it can survive for three days. I needed to get some sort of pattern

sorted out which would help me feel in control of my own safety and after reading as much of the available

information as I could manage the essentials came down to distance from others, washing hands and not

letting whatever was on my hands anywhere near my face.

A warm and sunny day for an hour's walk through the village but I had to concentrate hard to stay 6 feet

away from other people.

Penny rang from work to ask how the switch to phone work with clients had gone. Good to feel the support

and a continuing sense of team despite the closed building and all of us scattered and working from our

homes.

March 17th.

The first day of phone work with clients. It took me back to the ChildLine days. A bit of “phoney war" feel

from them as if this is just a temporary disruption, a nuisance if anything, with one client complaining about

the government “making us frightened". None of them seemed to have grasped what the government is

asking everyone to do. I was alarmed as each of them has underlying health conditions serious enough to

be life-threatening if they catch the virus. Protective denial I think which puts them at risk and though I

wanted to shout at them - for the sake of your life take this seriously - I managed to stay at least sounding

calm.

We had been worried about getting the car in for an essential service and then having to use public

transport to get home but the garage offered to collect and deliver it for us because of our age, which is

rapidly becoming a status that triggers special treatment. Mixed feelings about that. Then the men came

with the new oven and took great care to stay at a distance and not touch anything else in the kitchen. They

brought the wrong size and had to put the old one back so they'll have to come back tomorrow. I didn't like

having them in the house and just want the oven replaced and them gone.

Fern and I went for a walk, scarves over our faces. People still look at us as if we're making an

unnecessary fuss. I'm driving Fern mad pulling her away from people sometimes and telling her off when

she carelessly touches anything and then touches her face. We had a row when we got back about

cleaning off the alarm buttons and the key which she thought over the top but after all my research on

Monday I'm much more aware of where the virus can linger.

Glad to forget it all with dinner and a catch-up box set of “Spooks" we've started. Welcome escapism.

March 18th.

I have to take it back, Hollie has offered to shop for us if we need it. Felt rather guilty about my judgement

off them as self-absorbed. Lucas kept repeating that the present situation is “ weird, weird, weird" and like a

sci-fi movie, that he's “shell-shocked". There is for sure a degree of shock in their reaction; that their familiar

world can change so quickly has frightened them more than it's frightened me. My fear is of dying.

What the hell I decided and spent money on the all-in-one turntable that one of the kids had in her room at

Christmas. If I'm going to be locked down for weeks I can play my old vinyl LPs again.

I rang Hayley in Yorkshire just wanting to touch base and feel close to home.

Boris is still asking us not telling us. He seems to think that if you tell people it would be helpful not to go to

the pub that they’ll do it! He seems incapable of giving a straightforward instruction to the country.

I'm finding it hard to focus on specific tasks but eventually did a summary of a client's sessions for her and

sent it off.

March 19th.

All of Terry’s work has been cancelled now that the cruise industry has shut down and they have no

income. The mortgage, school fees and much else to be paid. They’ve always lived up to his income and

beyond with no fears that he wouldn't be able to earn. Not very prudent but it's how it is; we're going to

transfer £1000 a month into their account until this passes.

Good for them though, they’ve set about growing their own veg and salad and organising help for the

neighbours. I'm worried about how long we can do these payments for but at the moment just helping in the

here and now is all that matters.

March 20th.

Paul is home safe from France having had to cut short his rather reckless trip. He was lucky to get a flight

as France is about to close the borders. Apparently he's not feeling well either.

A group of neighbours have organised a support group and are offering any help that the 70+ and people

with health conditions might need. I found it reassuring and heart-warming that our own community had

moved so quickly to support us though I'm still struggling with the idea of being considered a vulnerable

person. I feel I should be helping not helped.

Pam has decided to go to Suffolk to look after Paul despite the risk. I had a sudden sense of abandonment,

that she wouldn't be sharing whatever’s to come in London with us all. We had talked about how chosen

family would all support one another over the next weeks but she's gone. She's in a dilemma at the

moment about where she should be, near family or with her partner.

A call with Lianne who is socially distancing after several colleagues at the hospital tested positive for the

virus. She cheered me by slightly mocking my struggles with the “vulnerable" label....” you don't have to

accept it. You're probably fitter than me in my fifties". But it's hard to assess just how much at risk we are in

our seventies. I don't have any underlying health conditions but have no information about what it is about

my age that is in itself a risk.

Fern mentioned to Krissie that we were planning to go to the post office with the LPA forms for Steve who

is sorting out his will and final wishes but she got very angry that we were taking that risk and made us

promise not to go. We cobbled some stamps together from the drawer and hope it gets there ok.

March 22nd.

I'm finding the constant calls and texts and emails overwhelming. I like the comfort of contact, that people

have thought of us and want to be in touch while at the same time worrying about who hasn't been in touch

but it takes a lot the energy out of the day responding and giving support in return.

We have decided to do some maintenance in the house during our lockdown and began with cleaning the

kitchen cupboards. I went for a walk later, but it was stressful. Lots of people on the heath; I began to feel

like a dodgem car.

Came home to news of hundreds gathering at the seaside and Snowdonia. I can’t even begin to

understand how they're thinking except that they obviously wanted to go and that for them is probably all

there is to it. I despair of this country sometimes.

Georgia and family called on video WhatApp to see how we are. We managed later to put Zoom on the

iPad but failed totally with Skype.

March 23rd.

The pubs and restaurants are now closed following the weekend stupidity. At last a clear directive from

Boris and a sense that the rest of the country has joined us in lockdown. What a relief.

Maisy next door isn't feeling the same at all with both girls beginning home schooling today. Over the fence

she said she had already been teacher, playground supervisor and dinner lady and only half the day had

gone. I wish we could help out.

In between client calls I planted my first lettuce seeds. Georgia's gift at Christmas of a planter to start me off

on my gardening project was the perfect gift and now it's surely one given at the perfect time. There should

be lots of time ahead to learn about growing vegetables. Feels good to start something new and different.

I try not to think too much about the pandemic; one news bulletin a day and a quick look on-line holds my

anxieties in check and then like today I read that the Chinese think that people who are blood group A like

me are more prone to serious illness. I hope not!

March 24th.

Client sessions all day and each person in different ways was far from accepting the restrictions of the

lockdown despite their age and poor health. One who has a serious auto-immune condition asked me if his

was an “underlying condition" that they were talking about on TV even though he has been unfit to work for

several years and suffers constant disabling symptoms. Others are still visiting friends or neighbours. One

who is a carer for her husband with dementia and terminal cancer and struggling to manage from day to

day says she hasn't the energy to even watch the news and can't cope with anything new.

All day I felt that if I didn't pitch what I said exactly right, people were going to lose their lives. I had to keep

my own feelings under control and slowly and quietly go through how they saw their own circumstances

with regard to the virus, what was difficult about it for them, the reasons behind their risky behaviour, what

the risks are at the moment and how they might better protect themselves. I had to remind myself that I can

only do what I can as well as I can and then people make their own choices.

Their vulnerability and the thought that none of them will survive unless they start to protect themselves is

upsetting me. I usually manage better than this but I'm holding my own anxiety too. It's taking a lot of

energy to keep it all together and stay supportive and open to whatever clients are bringing to their

sessions but therapists I speak to who are also working with very vulnerable clients are saying they are

feeling similar things.

Now Fern and I have got through all the delay and muddle before lockdown I feel well-prepared for three

months at home and will use the time to simplify my life on all sorts of levels, get rid of clutter in the house

and in my head and take advantage of the time to think without the pace of life we usually get caught up in.

There are signs around of a potential world-wide change in consciousness, strange connections between

the virus spread disrupting traffic flow, cleaning the air and stopping travel and what has been happening in

the climate change movement. Now people are having a lived experience of what it might be like to stop

doing what we're all doing and hopefully more people will understand from lived experience what the

climate protestors have been advocating to protect the environment. Maybe it will change attitudes in a way

that arguments and demos never do.

Walking round the block to clear my head and another neighbour I didn't know offered help if we needed

anything. Local support is magnificent.

Hollie is sending a list to add to our Tesco delivery order. They can't get a slot now. Thank goodness Fern

thought ahead and booked a couple.

I have sudden anxieties about being ill in an industrial-scale hospital and there being no ventilators if I need

one but on the whole we feel well prepared for getting through the lockdown, privileged with house and

garden, aware of our privileges and uncomfortable with how difficult this is going to be for so many people.

March 25th.

Supervision this morning was as nourishing and supportive as usual and I felt a weight shift from my

shoulders.

I took an hour’s exercise later but dodging people on the heath was not at all restful. Walks have become

just physical exercise rather than a chance to switch off and relax.

Saiorse and family have the virus but she texted to say they're recovering.

March 26th.

Krissie is having to move all her pilates classes onto Zoom. It occurred to me that this was a chance to join

one of her Bournemouth classes from here. She’s happy with that, in fact wants to practice using Zoom on

us first so she isn't in a pickle with it when she re-starts with paying customers.

March 27th.

Michael rang, worried he hadn't had a quick reply to his text. It's hard to keep up with all the

communications from friends and family at the moment though I'm needing to hear from them. We make a

plan for the day but it frequently gets derailed by phone calls or responding to texts.

He's isolating on his own which after his new knee and all these weeks off work is a bit of a challenge. Half-

joking I asked him about what we're all going to do about our hair and he went on to video and showed

Fern and I how to do a cut looking in the mirror. Expert help just when we need it!

Planted some garlic, the first row in the planter.

March 28th.

We've written to Ritta to say we'll continue to pay her until she's able to come again.

We cut one another's hair very successfully. Showed our cuts around with a WhatsApp photo; Michael was

very complimentary.

March 29th.

At last we've solved the problem of attaching the laptop to the television screen. Terry has told us we need

a special cable and miracle of miracles we had one in the computer drawer. Neither of us knows where on

earth we got it from. Now we can access Zoom and YouTube on the big screen.

Darren arranged Zoom party tonight for his birthday. Or rather he expected us to know what that is and

what we have to do to join in. At first we couldn't get it to work even with Terry’s help. Then when we'd got it

sorted with much eye-rolling in the family at our lack of on-line expertise ....poor old things.....the actual

party was a hellish chaos of noise and confusion. A bit like an acid trip I thought. We smiled and waved

every now and then and left as soon as we decently could wishing them all a happy time. Never again!

March 30th.

I actually wept to hear Boris say that the response to the virus has shown us that there IS such a thing as

society. I hope this marks the final end of Thatcherism when Boris turns his attention to his election

promises.

March 31st.

I've moved downstairs for client calls. Somehow they felt more intrusive in an upstairs bedroom. I've never

wanted to work at home. A clear separation between work and home has always been for me part of

general self-care and keeping a sense of perspective by leaving everything in the work place. This new way

of working is going to take some getting used to.

April 2020

April 1st.

We cut back more of the overgrown sycamore this morning stopping every now and then to take calls from

family and friends just keeping in touch.

Fern had a shock today when she read that Bassett and Gold has gone into receivership. She may well

lose most of the money she invested. No news yet about why this has happened. Because of the virus

lockdown, there's no information available, nobody to contact.

April 2nd.

I woke up anxious this morning. I think it's the fear of the peak approaching in London. I needed a walk to

get rid of some of the adrenalin and this time instead of our usual route we set out to explore St. Stephens.

We're taking much more notice of our own locality on these lockdown walks, identifying trees and flowers

as we go and being surprised by the variety of the buildings and eras of style and design that have been all

around us for years but that we've been too caught up with every day pressures to notice.

Krissie arranged our first ever Pilates class this afternoon and we took to it immediately feeling more

flexible and upright afterwards. A bit of a struggle first to get the Zoom set-up but the magic HM1 cable

meant we could watch her on our TV screen. Beginning Pilates at last is a definite Something New and we

were pleased with ourselves to be using the time to spread our wings a bit. Ironical really.

April 3rd.

Fern woke me at 3am to say she was not feeling well. She quickly collapsed into one of her migraines,

vomiting and the sudden drop in her blood pressure putting her on the floor trying not to lose

consciousness.

I felt the terror of having no back up if we needed help. No-one can come into the house and I'm not even

sure if an ambulance would come if we called one. And if it did hospitals are dangerous places now, full of

virus with nurses and doctors themselves getting ill and dying.

In my large and varied collection of anxieties has always been the one about us getting ill with something

else apart from the virus while the hospitals are under maximum pressure. For a short time I felt what must

be a familiar anxiety for millions of people around the world, the feeling that there's nowhere to go and

nothing to be done if you get ill, you're on your own with no help coming.

Fortunately she recovered fairly quickly and slept late into the morning. I felt churned up by it.

We're watching some comforting nostalgia TV, “ French and Saunders" that the BBC have revived and

“Last Tango in Halifax" which takes me back home to Yorkshire and is a joy. Celia is pure Harrogate. The

BBC have done well to roll out so many of the old series when we need them most.

We're putting together a Tesco delivery with items for Hollie and Janice too. Interesting to see what they put

on the list. There’s something quite intimate and revealing about what people choose when they shop for

food and it's like getting to know another side of them. I never knew how much Marmite Hollie household

gets through or that they will only use a brand of fancy soap that I'd never heard of.

April 4th.

Lucas brought some shopping to the door for us and stayed on the steps for a chat about how we're all

coping. We seemed to be saying similar things, that we're just doing it and seeing our way through each

day as best we can and it's ok. Some of our requests he had added to their shop like Twix and sardines

must seem unexpected choices to them too.

We walked later to Tesco to get cash and I all but ran in and out of the little newsagents to get a Saturday

Guardian. It felt risky and I frightened myself. Lucas admitted he was uncomfortable out of the house which

was quite affirming from a 44 year old. My nervousness embarrasses me.

Lots of calls again and Maisy wanted a chat over the fence about how they’re getting on with home

schooling . There have been some – what she calls – meltdowns by one or other of the two girls and I think

she gets worried that we hear them. Which we do sometimes but as Fern and I have both been teachers in

London schools we're not thinking we’re hearing anything unfamiliar. Hard for Maisy and William though

getting them focussed on schoolwork every day and there will be no respite for them until June.

5th April.

At last a warm enough day to open the hive and have a look at the bees. We checked each frame and re-

organised the boxes. Everything looked healthy.

6th April.

In the evening we watched the Queen deliver a pitch perfect message to the nation and Commonwealth;

more to endure she said but it will get better. That’s how to do it. She reminds us of what good leadership

should be as we have none from Boris who is still ill.

So clever to evoke Vera Lynn’s “we'll meet again.” All through the Brexit years half the country has been

looking back longingly at the England of 1940, the plucky little island standing alone, resilient and getting

through against the odds. I’ve thought a lot of what Mum and Dad used to say about the war years and I

recognise a few parallels now but what strikes me most is that throughout those years no-one had any idea

about when the war would end just as we don't know when we'll be free of the virus and how that must

have coloured everything in their lives.

I've been furious about Boris getting the virus. Typical of him to fail to follow his own advice. Instead he

boasted about continuing to shake hands, didn't even bother to keep to social distancing during his own

television briefings or in Parliament when he was advising the rest of the country to be careful and think of

others. As a result he’s having to self-isolate and recover just as London is coming up to the peak.

It’s typical messy carelessness on Boris's part, the usual arrogance and bravado as if he’s embarrassed to

be seen taking anything too seriously. I’d been saying angrily that it serves him right he's caught the virus,

serves him right he's shown up as the only European leader who's out of action at a critical time, that he's

made himself look the buffoon he is and is letting the country down when it most needs him. No, not a

shred of sympathy for him.

But then late on Krissie rang to tell us he'd gone into intensive care and it was suddenly very different. The

shock of it and the possibility he might die was evident to see on the faces of the Sky news commentators. I

feel it myself, not only that as a fellow human being he might lose his life but what a disaster it would be for

the country to lose the Prime Minister at this worst possible time. It’s surreal, like the script of a disaster

movie.

I went to bed thinking he might die during the night and for all his faults wishing him well.

April 7th.

I opened the BBC website with some trepidation first thing to see if he’d survived and he had though

presumably he's still very ill. But it felt like a positive sign.

Got up early to take in the Tesco delivery, our last one booked before the lockdown so we'll have to think

through how and where we're going to shop next time. Everything has to be wiped before being put away

which takes time and logic.

Clients all day and a lunchtime walk with Fern.

April 9th.

Planted my spring onions. I'm enjoying the garden and the country-like quiet in Lewisham with few cars and

no planes overhead. The air is as sweet as the summer mornings in Harrogate and crystal clear. I did some

client paperwork on the deck before ringing Edna, John and then Nicole just to see how they're managing.

Surprised in the present circumstances to hear that John is still travelling to Leeds for his radiotherapy.

We joined the neighbours for the 8 o'clock clap for the NHS. Good turnout up and down the road. We all

waved greetings afterwards or shouted conversations. Even the people at 71 came out and waved hello

which was a first as they never until now acknowledged anyone in the street.

April 10th

I wrote a complaint to the BBC website about the photo accompanying their lead story on the national clap.

Every nurse was young, could have passed as a fashion model and most importantly was white. And this in

a week when we've learned that BAME patient and staff are proving more vulnerable to the virus. I said it

certainly didn't represent the staff at our local hospital nor those in news reports from the frontline and I

asked them to look again at how that editorial choice was made and why.

Easter weekend.

The death toll is not far off a thousand a day which is so overwhelming I'm limiting the images and news I

see about it to once a day.

So many texts and emails and phone call over the holiday from family and friends, very welcome and

comforting but I get very tired responding to them all. It’s the same with the What's App videos and jokes

and cartoons that arrive every day; thank goodness I'm not on Facebook. I feel strangely over-exposed.

Such mixed feelings at the moment about all the communications as I'd be very unhappy if no- one

bothered to be in touch.

There were so many people out for a walk that it was difficult to relax. The runners are always the worst.

They come up behind us suddenly, coughing, spluttering, sweating and many of them not respecting social

distancing. They’re in a world of their own, focussed only on their run. If you say anything to them, if you

shout even, they don't hear with their earphones firmly in their ears. I get angry not just because I'm scared

of being infected by them but I’m offended by their self- absorption and selfishness.

Lizzie emailed that the infection rates in the USA are bad too. She’s worried about her mother’s care

facility where several residents have tested positive for the virus but her mother at 94 can't be persuaded to

move out to Lizzie’s.

The family Easter eggs have already been sent via the internet and flowers delivered to us from Hollie,

Lucas and Maiya. We were also very touched that the children from number 61 made us an Easter box with

some little chocolates in it, so thoughtful and kind. More calls including one to Brigitta in Austria who is in

lockdown except for essential shopping. More worryingly Janet is struggling on her own with attacks of

panic and Nicole says she has a cold and laryngitis ( I hope that's all it is). Very aware that being on your

own at Easter in these circumstances is pretty grim.

I thought of Daniel caring for his wife with dementia and rang him. He says he's been in lockdown so long

looking after her that his life hasn't changed much at all.

Enjoyed “Jesus Christ Superstar" which Andrew Lloyd Weber allowed to be streamed to TV and “Jane

Eyre" from the National Theatre. Quality productions.

April 14th.

Back to work and immediately into serious concerns about two clients. One who is shielded says he

couldn't bear being imprisoned at home, got drunk, walked to the shop to buy more alcohol and then went

to a neighbour's flat. The other, living alone with no family, has stopped taking essential medication for her

blood pressure and heart, an unconscious kind of Russian roulette that has happened before when her

stress levels get too high.

Both situations are potentially life-threatening but the usual back-up support services are simply not there at

the moment so I did what I could on the phone. Today it felt like I was leaning hard against the cracks in

the dam in order to stop a flood which might kill them both.

Depressing news about the government's lack of protection for people in care homes where deaths are

rising. Thank goodness our parents are gone and not caught up in this.

I’m discovering a whole new peace from working in the garden.

April 16th.

I get a sense now that the virus situation is shining a light into everything, friendships and family

relationships, expectations, politics, mental health and resilience.

I'm tired mentally and emotionally and unable to focus on anything much.

I like hearing from people but then get tired from talking with them. And my ears are getting sensitive and

sore from so many hours spent on the phone.

April 17th.

I got a reply from the Swansea study today and it looks like they’re happy for anyone to send them material

about the pandemic. I’ll enjoy writing up my diary.

More client follow-ups and calls. A friend says this lockdown will make or break their marriage; certainly

they will have time together again without the strain of so many hours spend looking after their

grandchildren.

April 18th.

Thanked Georgia for the lovely masks she made and posted to us, one blue and one violet.

The neighbours from number 61 came over with our Saturday Guardian. They are being so supportive.

Anything we need they will get for us. Though they have been in the road for a couple of years we had

never met until they stopped me in the street and asked if they could help in any way.

The one thing we were a bit embarrassed to ask for was a Saturday Guardian and they’ve offered to deliver

it every week now. Hardly an essential but they understood our attachment to it, the one newspaper we

read and which lasts us all week.

At last we’ve seen “Phantom of the Opera", streamed on YouTube this weekend. We’re catching up on

some cultural stuff we've missed along the way and no West End prices.

April 20th.

A new client from the crisis service, the first referral of someone I haven't already met face to face but it

went well enough But a great deal is lost on the way from not being in the room together. It's lost even on

Facetime and Zoom.

Rose emailed that she’s missing her own home and loved ones so much that she's going to risk breaking

the lockdown to drive back to London. Says she can't bear it a moment longer without her own things and

has no warm weather clothes up there. She got caught when the lockdown started and Charlie was ill.

She's willing to take the risk of being stopped by the police.

Not sure how I feel about it; she’s not great at the best of times at accepting what she sees as restrictions

but she really is distressed and I would probably feel bad too if I had got stuck somewhere and couldn’t get

home. She says she's had some criticism for being miserable and for not counting her blessings and just

getting on with it like everyone else is having to.

April 21st.

After talking with my colleague about the sudden load of suicidal material that was presented, I felt lighter

today and it was some satisfaction to find the clients who had worried me most both feeling better than last

week.

Rose rang from home. No problem driving back on the M11. She is very apologetic, expecting more

criticism from everyone. Says she couldn't bear not seeing the faces of her nearest and dearest.

April 22nd.

The monthly supervision session on Facetime and as usual it was supportive, nourishing and a pleasure.

With my manager I never stop learning.

Spent the rest of the morning trying to contact a vulnerable client's GP in order to raise concerns. The

surgery denies having my client on their books. What they don't tell me is that there is another practice with

the same name just down the road. I work it out myself from the internet. There is no email contact address

for the practice on their website. Long, long delays to get through on the phone to ask for the doctor's

contact email.

I had a power walk on the heath to get my head free of work issues; I'm full of energy again after exercise.

In the media and from most people I talk to there is increasing criticism of the government, over the slow

lockdown, the lack of PPE, the shameful neglect of care homes and lack of leadership. The government

seems to be incompetent on so many fronts and there's a feeling of drift and lack of direction. I wish Nicola

Sturgeon was running things here; she oozes competence and good sense.

April 23rd.

Rose came for a doorstep looking distressed and worn. She talked about how difficult she was finding her

dilemma - that she wants to be with Charlie in Suffolk AND here near her family. She's missing us all.

There’s no solution. She’ll go back to Suffolk in a few days with clothes and other personal things to help

her feel more settled up there.

April 24th.

Woke with a weight on my chest, a sore throat and the beginnings of a cold ...and I have no doubt it is a

cold. I stayed in bed with my book and slept on and off.

It's a relief to let go and just leave it all for another day.

As I’ve worked right through the peak and Easter break I decided today to take the week after next off. My

colleague says she is doing the same. Clients are calmer now than in those first weeks of the lockdown.

April 25th.

Olivia and Fred brought our Guardian this morning and I gave them a Beano and a Dandy Annual from the

toy box plus a Church Mouse book as a thank you.

Stuart says they’re trying to teach them about looking out for other people and not just thinking about

themselves. We're grateful to them.

26th April.

An Ocado delivery at 8am. The banging of the boxes in the delivery vans is the sound of the lockdown in

our quiet road. Lucky that we got a slot again and lucky we have the money to buy our food this way. Our

privilege slaps us in the face sometimes and keeps us awake.

Planted some pansies seeds but my throat is still bad and eventually I gave in and went back to bed.

27th April.

The care home deaths are shocking. At last they have been added to the overall death numbers which

gives a clearer picture of the government's handling of the pandemic.

We are certainly not in safe hands. Boris is still absent and no doubt will be for some time. He has missed

his Churchill moment which the crisis of the pandemic handed him on a plate but come the Darkest Hour

he was not leading us through it, brought down by his own carelessness and arrogance.

As my old English teacher used to drum into us, in all Shakespearean tragedies Character is Fate.

April 29th.

Calls and clients all day and the sad news that one of my client’s husband died on Saturday. After all the

struggles and worries about his care and despite care workers coming in daily during the lockdown with no

PPE as protection, he died naturally and peacefully with his family by his bed.

I’m so pleased for my client that in spite of all the setbacks with her own mental health she has been able to

see him through with loving care right to end of his life.

Fern has been willing to try “Morse" at last and likes it. I love it. Soothing to watch in the evening, a real

comfort after a day at work then the daily briefing and the news.

April 30th.

A three-way Zoom call with Pam in Suffolk and Lizzie in Washington DC – all a bit fragmented and

unsatisfactory. I'm still not finding this way of talking to people easy to manage.

May 2020

1st May.

We have found a new routine during lockdown. After breakfast we meet for what we jokingly call our

“briefing meeting". Basically, we both say what we'd like to get done, remind one another of what's pressing

to be done and somehow arrange it all between us so that we work hard in the morning and take it easier in

the afternoon with books and TV or calls and include an hour's walk for exercise somewhere in the day.

On my work days I stay downstairs in the back room and don't come out for lunch or coffee with Fern It

works better like that as going in and out of sessions with clients and getting involved in between with daily

life in the house causes all sorts of discomforts and tensions. I’ve never wanted to work from home though

some therapists prefer it. Leaving what clients talk about in the therapy room and having the transitional

space of a commute between work and home has always worked best for me.

Now I feel that what I hear somehow gets into the walls and soft furnishings of our home; I ritually throw

open the patio doors after each call and let the fresh air blow into the room.

It’s hard for clients too, some of whom struggle to find any quiet or safe space to talk. With children in the

house or difficult partners to manage some have to go out into the street to find a private corner for

themselves. Intermittent mobile signals and passers-by can break the thread and disrupt our own

connection which is harder to maintain anyway given we are both missing the subtle body signals and eye

contact of being in the same room together.

I was disappointed to find that because of a huge demand the cakes I ordered for Fern’s birthday can't be

delivered until a week later. I thought I’d ordered them in good time and feel cross with myself for not taking

in that so many other people would be using the on-line shop. Obvious really.

We fared better with Maiya’s 6th birthday, putting together a homemade card from all the odds and ends of

paper and glitter in the drawer and photographing the teddies and animals she likes for the front.

Took her card and presents over to the house at lunchtime for prosecco and a piece of unicorn birthday

cake on the pavement in front of the house. Dave and Tabitha joined us all. Maiya was happy with the

unicorn ear muffs she’d requested, the Isadora Moon books and a flower pot to paint. She was jumping

about, jolly in a unicorn onesie. Her Mum and Dad were more muted, both gloomy about the prospect of us

ever getting free of the virus and back to normal life. Delicious sweet sticky birthday cake with cream and

icing was a welcome treat.

Home to see Boris dithering about masks which according to him “might be useful". Might! Same old fear of

giving a clear instruction for everyone to follow. It's common sense that masks offer a large measure of

protection even if not an absolute guarantee but clearly the experience of the rest of the world counts for

nothing

Also rather shame-faced about missing the clap yesterday. May had put us on to a website offering opera

productions from all over the world. We got immersed in Jonathan Miller's 2014 production of “Cosi Fan

Tutti” at Covent Garden and forgot the time.

2nd May.

Fern cut my hair very successfully. I like it better than when the hairdresser does it as she never does quite

what I ask her for. The £12 hairdresser's scissors bought on-line make it much easier.

Fern’s has begun a project for restoring the marmoleum floor tiles downstairs and she's enjoying it. We

have invited Janet into the garden on her birthday as she is feeling desperate to go somewhere. And she's

bored. It’s not actually OK for her to travel across London to someone else's garden by the letter of the

restrictions but we've justified it to ourselves because she really is miserable with being isolated at home

and the stress is affecting her heart and breathing.

Fern and I have admitted to one another that we’re enjoying many aspects of this lockdown, not just one

another’s company though that's the heart of it but also the rhythm of our days, the peaceful streets and

clean air, time to give to what interests us and the lack of social pressures to go and do all the time. With all

the suffering that is happening beyond our front door it’s hard to admit it to ourselves and don't want to be

saying it aloud.

4th May.

My very welcome week off.

Out early and warily to the Italian shop for treats for Janet’s birthday. And then to M&S which was better

organised. It was our first outing to central Lewisham and the quiet lines of people outside the shops

reminded me of old photos of rationing queues during the War.

Tidied the garden and apiary ready for our visitors tomorrow. Spent some time checking the hive and put

another honey super on.

5th May.

No good deed goes unpunished as Lucas would say.

Janet’s books arrived in time via Amazon but I found the whole visit a strain because she and Charlie had

very different attitudes to social distancing and constantly pushed the distance boundaries while we

became more and more uncomfortable. When I reminded them...gently I hope....Janet rolled her eyes as if

to say “what a fuss" and I almost lost my temper.

Both of them are frustrated by the lockdown, understandably as they both live alone and spend most of

their free time together at theatres and cinemas or museums and exhibitions, none of which are available to

them for the foreseeable future. They are almost defiant towards the virus and some of the restrictions.

Recently they drove to central London just to see what it was like during lockdown.

We were almost accused of giving too much respect to the virus by keeping to the government guidelines. I

felt they showed little respect to us by not accepting that we had a right to our own decisions about how to

behave and by failing to consider our comfort and safety. We'd made a big effort with cake, candles and

gifts but ended up glad to see them leave.

Add to this the complication of managing the What's App call with Rose who wanted to be included in the

gathering plus one small phone with it’s own technical difficulties and the whole enterprise was to say the

least not a success.... from our point of view anyway. They seemed to enjoy it all regardless.

In the evening I got a text from Andy saying she is recovering from the virus but that it has been a lonely

experience to be so ill on her own in the flat. She had been terrified waiting to see if it was going to get

worse and put her in hospital. We arranged to talk on the phone later in the week.

6th May.

Our visitors made me so nervous that I spent ages on the internet first thing checking out the likelihood of

outdoor transmission of the virus. Not likely apparently.

Then a very apologetic phone call from Janet about what she now thinks was poor behaviour on her part

yesterday and very appreciative of the trouble we'd taken to give them a good time. She said she just

wanted to get close and didn't mean to be difficult. They'd enjoyed themselves and things are smoothed

over though I’m still left feeling that we'll give visitors a miss for the time being after this experience. It's too

stressful.

Janice texted to say there are Tesco delivery slots if we're quick.

Poppy rang from Devon for a catch- up.

7th May.

A lovely sunny day, warm enough for shorts and to cut back the magnolia in the front garden.

At last I found the nerve to take the new Samsung tablet out of the box and start to work out how to use it.

I've had it for months after buying it as an aid for my writing. I wanted something light and portable that I

can take anywhere but the guidance that the salesman gave in John Lewis was over my head and I've put

off tackling my fear and just making a start.

Today was start day; I made myself put time aside and not duck out. Once I'd worked out it was quite like

the iPad I gained enough confidence to push on. I’m determined not to come out of the lockdown without a

good enough understanding of how to use it.

8th May.

The national commemoration of VE Day 75 years ago.

It means far more to Fern and I than to many of our friends whose parents were not as marked as ours

were by their war experiences.

My father was in Royal Navy motor torpedo boats based in Dover, wounded twice in action but fighting on

right through to the end of the war. Fern’s father, with the British Army in Italy, fought at Monte Cassino. My

mother was a Wren based in Dover servicing torpedoes for the Navy; Fern’s Austrian mother was living as

a young girl within the Third Reich.

We wanted to celebrate their lives and had brought out the old photos of the three in their uniforms. Having

put our hair in a scarf in 1940s style and toasted them at 3pm with a glass of wine on the front step we put

Alexa on the upstairs window sill and played Vera Lynn singing “We'll Meet Again “ to the whole street.

Two neighbours waved and applauded but no-one else was out. We didn't mind as all we wanted to do was

honour the day.

It was a lovely day for us until we watched the evening news. 620 died today and some of them will have

served in the War. What a terrible betrayal of the elderly. It's shameful. What a contrast between what that

generation did and the lethal mediocrity of Boris and his government. I don't know how he can lift his head

up today.

10th May.

Inspected the bees and found closed queen cells. Luckily it was the day for the London Beekeepers

monthly meeting and I could talk over what I thought might be happening. This was a first for me. Hopefully

this way of discussing bee matters will survive the lockdown. I'd become very tired of making the journey

across London and had virtually lost contact with the group.

And my view of Zoom which had got off to a poor start was further improved by a family quiz in the evening

including Alexandra in Ibiza. The kids had put together some questions based on photos they had of us on

their phones.....very cleverly done using technology beyond us and good fun all round.

11th May.

A sudden weather change to cold and windy.

Worked all day.

Caught up in the evening with the changes Boris announced yesterday. It all seems a complicated muddle.

He’s encouraging people to return to workplaces which are ill-prepared to keep their workers safe and

nothing was said about the safety of their travel on public transport in London. The devil is in the detail and

Boris is careless about detail.

We can at least go to places in the car now but I realised neither of us is particularly bothered one way or

another. The strange truth is that we are actually quite comfortable in the lockdown and would rather not

take any unnecessary risks just for the sake of a change of scene. For others it will be vital to get out of

their homes and see something different but there’s no urgency for us.

12th May.

What a day! Clients all morning and then at 1pm Fern called out and I ran outside to see the bees swarm

high into the air in a huge cloud, swirling about looking for somewhere to gather. I prayed it wouldn't be

somewhere inaccessible. I put on a bee suit and went out to reassure the neighbours that it would soon

calm down but no-one was around and within ten minutes or so they had settled into the tree in Miguel and

Rosa’s garden.

I knocked at their door worried they would be annoyed but both of them left their work very excited to have

a close up view of what the bees were doing. It took a lot of planning to decide how to collect the swarm

safely but Miguel insisted we shouldn't think of climbing the tree and that he could easily attach a rope to

the branch and then saw it off. Fern lowered the branch to me in the street while I shook them into a

cardboard box.

Neighbours came out to watch, one made a video even and though everyone had to move carefully round

one another to maintain social distancing, it was quite a community event

13th May.

Our friend visited to deliver Fern’s birthday presents and was wanting to arrange a walk with me tomorrow

for a long talk. She was quite high on having broken the lockdown in order to get home again and very

defensive about choosing her own rules rather than the government’s. And she's 74! Heaven knows what

other safety rules she's broken since we last saw her.

Consequently I don't feel safe going out with her tomorrow. I wonder if she'll keep to social distancing and

after my last experience I don't want any more mockery about my nervousness and wish to stay safe. I tried

to tell her that from a practical point of view walking with one eye on keeping distant from others and trying

to talk at any depth was quite an ask and that we would do better to sit in the garden. “No, no I want to

walk".

14th May.

An early call from our friend to say she had changed her mind after going out for a walk on the Heath

yesterday and that it would be better after all to meet in the garden. She was rather chastened after finding

herself having to dodge other walkers and runners. “ So many people! I never see anyone when I'm walking

in the country.”

We had a good time together in the end.

Pat sent me an article from The Observer about how the UK is now considered “the Sick Man of Europe” in

foreign policy and competent government. It's how it feels.

Hollie and Maiya brought some shopping this afternoon which gave Maisy the chance to come out and

canvas Hollie views about the schools returning on June 1st. Both thought it was far too early and agreed

they would not be sending either Maiya or Janine. The two classmates were pleased to see one another

but a bit tongue-tied after such a long time apart.

A bee attacked Hollie while she was on the pavement and I had to distract it to let her get away......not one

of ours I hope.

15th May.

A day of increasing worry about the bees as next door and Miguel and Rosa have both mentioned being

harassed by individual bees over the last couple of days. We’ve begun to be attacked on the deck from

time to time and today Fern was stung through her t-shirt.

The colony guards around the hive are suddenly aggressive too. The problem is that the guard bees have

not switched off their alarm pheromones after the colony swarmed. It's the first time there has been any

nuisance to the neighbours since I first had them eleven years ago. Very worrying. It would happen just

when everyone is home and in their gardens.

I rang John who offered to move the hive to his quarantine apiary and re-queen. It’s the only remedy and it

will be a great relief not to have them here.

I went into a shop for the first time since lockdown to buy a bottle of prosecco to take to the godchildren for

their 10th wedding anniversary. The M&S garage shop was well-organised with security on the door but I

arrived to queue and saw the security woman talking to a man probably with mental health problems who

was laughing in her face about the queue and the organised social distancing. He was right next to her and

neither of them was wearing a mask.

As I was leaving I said how worried I was for her working in such a vulnerable position but she said she

does 12 hour shifts and can't bear to wear a mask for that long.

The godchildren were gloomy with disappointment that the big party they had arranged for their anniversary

can't take place this weekend. I do understand but it's hard not to be a bit impatient with them given that so

many people are ill or dying.

Pilates in the afternoon. Then Daniel L rang to talk politics, basically about posh boy government not having

a clue about how people live their lives.

Fern is very happy that at last she can book a game of golf.

17th May.

I've decided to move the bees in the winter out of our garden onto a piece of land nearby where John also

has a couple of colonies. That will take away any anxieties now that we have so many small children in the

houses around us.

18th May.

Fern’s birthday, the last of her sixties she said wistfully but a lovely surprise when Georgia drove over from

Essex to deliver their gifts in person. Messages and greetings all day, some from old pupils who had picked

up other birthday wishes on Facebook.

I worked all day and then we had a birthday dinner together in the evening.

John came to collect the hive but hadn't put his suit on and was immediately stung three times. Agrees

nothing can be done in the short-term and we're well rid of them.

19th May.

Worryingly no word from Janet yesterday who in more normal times never misses being in touch on a

birthday.

I decided to ring and sure enough found her depressed about the state of the country and the world,

grieving for her mother and struggling with her health problems. She is finding living on her own during the

lockdown very hard. And sees clearly what the virus means for the arts in the long run fearing that all she

has worked for during her life, community arts and culture particularly, will never recover.

She wonders if her symptoms have anything to do with the virus and has reported them on the King's

Symptom Study app.

Fern had her first golf game. Easy to socially distance she said and good to be out there again. She was

especially careful around B who is ignoring the virus as she says she “doesn't believe in it"! The golfers

have given up trying to argue with her.

21st May

Lots more households came out for the clap this evening. A great feeling of camaraderie in the road. Janice

recruited the neighbour at number 67 onto our early warning system for Tesco delivery slots.

As the lockdown eases I notice I’m becoming more anxious and panicky. It's hard to get rid of the constant

adrenalin. Infections and deaths in London are down but I feel the easement is too much too soon and that

the virus will spike again. The recent changes are the usual last minute plans hastily introduced with

nothing thought through, instructions fudged and unclear.

I feel much less safe almost entirely because I feel the government on its record so far cannot be trusted to

keep us safe.

22nd May.

Attended my client's husband's funeral this morning on Zoom and I was very pleased for her and her family

that it went well.

The start was delayed but the Zoom meeting began at the designated time giving us the cleaner dusting

the chapel and chatting to the maintenance man then a conversation between the vicar and the funeral

director while the vicar put on his vestments. None of them seemed aware that everything they said and did

was being broadcast to family and friends waiting for the service to begin.

Still no sign of a queen or new brood in the second hive so when the new queen arrived in the post I put the

queen cage straight into the hive.

Fern is doing painting repairs in the house. I rang Daniel S to see how he was getting on with shielding.

He's feeling confined but is not even tempted to take risks he says because of his COPD.

Enjoyed another production from the National – Gillian Anderson in “A Streetcar Named Desire.” Absolutely

superb. As was “Normal People" on TV this week.

23rd May.

Janet had been sent for a covid test at the O2 carpark this morning. She and Charlie called in afterwards

for a coffee in the garden. Not a pleasant experience she said, not only the discomfort of taking a swab but

it had been like a military-style operation. They were barked at and ordered about very rudely. No good

morning or would you please, no human touch at all from those organising it.

They were with us when Oscar rang to tell me Jackie had gone back to her flat last weekend after weeks

locked down at their house and was now very ill with the virus. She has no idea how she could have caught

it.

Never reassuring when there’s no explanation for it.

Came off the phone with the usual low spirits after ringing my cousin. All about her. No interest at all about

how we are in these circumstances. We're ok as it happens but it reminded me how the lockdown is

sometimes shining a revealing light on family and friends, on who asks how we're doing, who keeps in

touch and who thinks only of themselves. No surprises with my cousin unfortunately.

24th May.

The great satisfaction today of picking and serving at dinner my first lettuce from the planter...the very first

food I’ve grown myself. A lockdown lettuce!

26th May.

A beautiful summer's day. Woke at 6.15am and took myself for a walk for an hour up through the streets on

to the Heath. What a joy!

I'm going to do more of this. I felt so relaxed for the rest of the working day. But I was aware of the increase

in traffic compared to the early days of lockdown and rather sad that we will probably never again see the

quiet countryside London. It was a visit to another reality in those first weeks, a glimpse of another

existence more in balance with the natural world.

To friends tranquil garden for a late afternoon glass of wine and a catch- up.

Very angry about Dominic Cummings and his jaunt to the north. How satisfying that he's been caught and

held to account but I'm disgusted by his sense of entitlement and hypocrisy. He'll have to go after this.

28th May.

Jackie texted she's on the mend after feeling so ill. Particularly good news as she's in her 70s and is getting

through it ok. Encouraging for the rest of us.

Fern and I gave one another rather good haircuts.

Endless Cummings coverage and widespread outrage in the media alongside government attempts to

squash the issue and move on.

I can hardly believe that Boris has not acted immediately to suspend him. He looks unwell and not quite in

charge, “not Churchill but Billy Bunter" said The Guardian of his recent Liaison Committee appearance.

People are starting to talk about Cummings’s antics and Boris's non-response as a betrayal of the all-in-

this- together cohesion of the lockdown. I bet people will be reluctant to do it again if they feel there’s one

rule for the privileged and one for the rest of us.

Lots of Barnard Castle jokes around.

More easing measures despite the high daily death count. Surely the virus will roar back. I haven't spoken

to one person recently who doesn't fear that the easing is too early to be safe.

It looks like it's the last Thursday clap. I took a pan to beat and Fern took the cowbell. I stayed out to talk to

our neighbour at number 67 who has just lost her father and with four children at home and no flights is

unable to get back home to Tanzania for his funeral.

29th May.

Another early morning walk but oh dear, I could actually smell the car exhaust today.

The tree surgeon came to shore up the lilac tree and cut back some of the branches which were fast

approaching the bedroom window. Another lockdown job done after neglecting it for so long.

31st May.

Tackled at last the pile of house and work papers on my desk but the ironing I’d sorted weeks ago into piles

on the floor is still there. I seem to have been too busy to get any ironing done .... who would believe it? But

it's true. The quiet, meditative and leisurely time that I thought lockdown would be for we over- 70s,

something like being on a retreat maybe, never really happened.... in this house anyway.

I've been wearing the same few clothes all these weeks and pulling out a decent top every now and then

for video calls and Zoom. It’s meant less washing and ironing and freedom from deciding what to wear

every day. Though I still dress up a bit for work or I don't feel quite right. Proper shoes and no slippers for

as start.

June 2020

June 1st.

Hayley checked in as usual at the end of the working day to bring me up to date with the office hub and to

discuss any issues around the service users. We got on to the plans for adapting the building and then our

feelings about the government easing of restrictions. “Scary" she said. “We're not in safe hands", which is

the phrase I've also found myself using often lately. I recognise this feeling from the weeks just before the

lockdown.

The litter that people have left all over the beauty spots and beaches at the weekend is utterly depressing.

And disgusting. I wonder who does this kind of thing and if they recognise themselves in the media

coverage and general outrage. We used to have more pride than this as a nation but it's getting lost in the

narcissism and need for instant gratification of a significant minority of the population.

June 2nd.

A beautiful summer’s morning. I set out at 6.30 for an hour's walk before clients and a Mind staff meeting

on Zoom. The complexity of altering the physical layout of the building is mind-boggling and I’m grateful I

don’t have to sort it out. It’s pretty clear that we won't be able to get back to face-to-face client work for

some time though the staff will be able to use the office space once it's adapted.

My colleague gave a very eloquent tribute to the core staff for everything they've done to keep service

users connected over these last weeks. The community of staff, service users and volunteers has held

together through calls, support counselling sessions, Zoom groups and a new Facebook page. I’ve felt the

solidarity and support myself and been grateful for it.

There had been a long and unusual silence from one of my cousins and I was suddenly anxious that might

be unwell. So I rang. No he was “in the pink" he said, “never better". He and S. had decided to lockdown

together and were “loving every minute". They go here, they go there avoiding other people of course, she

says this, he says that and so it went on.” As far as I'm concerned this lockdown can go on for ever" was

his parting shot.

It's a happy irony that a widowed man in his sixties with a heart condition should find in this pandemic the

very thing he's been looking for these past years, a woman to live with and be with twenty four hours a day.

I know as I put the phone down that we’re unlikely to hear anything from him for a while now unless

something goes wrong and then as has happened before, he'll be back in our lives again. He's happy and

I'm glad for him especially that he has not been alone during the lockdown but I can't help feeling a sense

of loss that his happiness will mean he will drop out of touch with us now. Somehow he can't manage to be

happy and in touch at the same time.

3rd June.

The client who had felt dizzy during our session yesterday contacted me to say she'd collapsed later and

was now in hospital having a pacemaker fitted. She has been caring for a husband with dementia, stressful

enough, but the restrictions of the lockdown have triggered memories of boarding school where she was

sent as a very young child. Isolated from contact with those she loved most she became traumatised and

despairing, feelings which have resurfaced after decades and have clearly pushed her stress levels into a

serious health crisis.

I realise my stress levels are up too. I suspect that the pressures of the lockdown will find the most

vulnerable pressure point in the mental health of each individual and it will be around that issue that the

distress will gather and be acted out. We are all exposed because so many of our usual ways of defending

ourselves against distress are out of reach at the moment, whether it's going to the gym, going out for a

coffee or a drink, going to football or meeting friends and family. We're now all thrown back on ourselves

and our inner world where under pressure the old wounds can surface all too painfully.

Mine gather around the need to feel safely attached. I can easily over-react when one bad experience as

with A today tips me into old feelings of abandonment and I forget suddenly all the people in my life that

continue to be there for me during this pandemic. The past and present get confused; the past pours into

the present and Now feels like Then. If I'm not careful I can start reacting in a way that belongs to the past

and can be way over the top.

We were cheered by the better-late-than –never arrival from Fern’s birthday cakes. Delicious and a

comforting contact with my Yorkshire home.

5th June.

I’ve felt increasingly off- balance as the week has gone on, miserable and somehow untethered in the

world. Despite knowing that this is not the reality I can't shake the feeling off.

I’ve not felt particularly restless to see people during the lockdown but now I’m beginning to fret about the

plans we had made with friends and family for our next visit to Harrogate. There's a definite feeling of

frustration and sometimes of being under house arrest.

I have a stiff neck and earache which are not helping my general mood. I think it's taken this long for it to

sink in that for the foreseeable future we're not going to get back to anything like the life we were living in

February. Unless there's a vaccine. But the message from the scientists seems to be that they may never

find a vaccine; they have not found one yet for the common cold or for Aids. I wonder if we'll ever feel safe

again in the company of other people.

And I have no confidence that the government has a clear roadmap, no confidence that we’re moving

forward to better times. In fact I'm expecting the virus to get a hold again because everything has opened

up too much too soon.

8th June.

For the first time no covid deaths were reported in London today. That shows how effective the lockdown

has been, but numbers will start to rise again soon I've no doubt.

At last the tinned sardines were delivered – the only food I’ve missed over the last weeks. For some reason

they’ve been hard to get.

9th June.

The garden guys who are clearing the ground next door pulled down an old shed and discovered a bumble

bee nest underneath. Maisy came round to ask if we could come over and perhaps relocate it. We both

went over in our bee suits only to find this huge and complex structure which was far beyond us to move

safely.

We stayed there ages fascinated by the bees coming and going then went home to look on-line for a local

humane removal and location firm, otherwise the team will have to destroy the nest in order to rebuild a

vital wall. That really would be a crime.

11th June.

Poppy let us know she'd given an interview for local television news about the involvement of the South

West in the slave trade. People in Bristol have pulled down a statue in Bristol as part of a Black Lives

Matter protests. It looks like this is the next seismic shake to the system; reaction to George Floyd's killing

in the USA is worldwide.

We watched her interview via the internet. I'm glad to see the challenge to the whitewashing of our history

and even more to the white entitlement thinking which these protests are calling out.

12th June.

We were both excited at the prospect of our first trip out of SE13 since lockdown. Never has the bleak,

industrial A13 looked so fascinating. At one point I found myself saying “oh look, Dagenham!” definite proof

we've been needing a change of scene.

The family welcomed us into their Essex Garden with coffee, croissants and strawberries ....so good to see

them all and enjoy simply being with them again.

13th June.

To a friend’s garden for coffee.

She’s picked up how much the 6 year old is missing being with other children; I've been worrying about it

too but neither of us has managed to get it across to her parents who still haven't done anything about

arranging a garden meet with one of her school friends.

I have a sense that they're finding the combination of working from home and home schooling is the outer

limit of what they can cope with and even when we offer what little practical support we can they have

simply no energy or attention left over for setting up anything extra.

In the afternoon I joined the training course on “Trauma and Somatic Memory”. Their generous free

membership during lockdown offered a good opportunity to catch up with the new neuroscience around

trauma and its implications for how trauma is treated. We know that talking cures on their own are not

effective and risk re-traumatising the client. I’m already thinking about how to use what I've been learning.

New ground and I'm grateful for the time and space to learn more.

There will be a lot more PTSD around as a consequence of the pandemic and when people begin to get

more in touch with what their experience has been. It's a bit early now while generally we are still focussing

on getting through each day as best we can.

15th June.

The shops open today though we wouldn't dream of taking the risk of going out into crowded places. I have

to wrestle with my reaction to the people who are rushing out “just" to go shopping and remind myself that

individuals are different and need different comforts and pleasures once they are able to leave their homes.

I tell myself the reward is worth the risk to them but not to us, a simple difference and theirs is not a crime

against the community.

We have received a water bill for over £500. We don't know whether it's a scam or not but getting through

to anyone at Thames Water has been unsuccessful so far.

Work and a phone supervision. Hayley told me she has been trying for eight weeks to get a doctor to

examine her elderly mother who has been in pain and behaving erratically but the GP won't come out to

her. She collapsed eventually and in A&E tests showed that she had had a heart attack recently. This plays

into the anxieties that there will be no help out there if and when we need it.

17th June.

Football is back which I AM glad about!

A group of pranic healers is offering remote healing to the therapists at Mind as a gift which is very

generous of them. Hayley has asked me and a few others to try it out and see what we make of it. I’m

game.

Very heavy rain and then an emergency call from a client who has water pouring through her roof and

doesn't know what to do or who can help her.

18th June.

An ominous silence from my client when I rang again this morning and the rain is still pouring down. She is

impulsive and frequently suicidal under stress but there is nothing more I can do if she doesn't answer the

phone.

We set off for Watford and cousin Edna’s 90th birthday. The journey was a pleasure in itself just to see

something different. When we arrived in the car park I had one more try at getting through to my client and

this time she did answer and I was relieved that she'd been able to follow through on our call and organise

some roofers to make an emergency repair.

A very enjoyable birthday gathering with Edna sitting on her chair just inside her patio doors and we in the

garden under umbrellas though actually wet through. Cake, fizz and chat. Kevin rang from his naval base

and Felix from Taiwan - we passed the phone between us for catch-up chats.

One issue in our planning to go over there was what to do about going to the loo. Edna is shielded so we

assumed her loo was out of bounds but fortunately the communal one was available in the entrance hall.

We were very mindful that this was a residential block for the elderly.

Lack of available toilets is a national issue at the moment there being no guarantee that if you go shopping

you can depend on the usual facilities being open. When the Hare and Billet on the heath started selling

drinks from their back door they didn't open their toilets so come the weekend there were so many

complaints from local residents about people using their gardens that the police closed them down.

We watched our first TV football match since the restart but lost interest. No savour or taste to it without the

crowds.

And our lovely day out ended with the sad news that Vera Lynn had died aged 103. We both felt that with

her passing we’ve lost a bit of our family history, the end of a connection to the Second World War that

was such an important part of our childhoods.

20th June.

To our friend’s garden for brunch and a go at their lawn tennis game, all socially distanced. Like us they

take little notice of the government’s reassurances and set their own standard for safety.

The economy is now the government's priority rather than the more vulnerable. Altering the two metre rule

and fudging what the recommended safe distance should be is entirely about “getting the economy going"

– I can see Boris's clenched fist punching out in emphasis as I write.

We certainly notice ourselves returning to the levels of anxiety we had when we wanted the government to

lockdown and their message was to carry on as normal.

My friend told us that her neighbour who works at Lewisham Hospital had seen a government directive that

if at the peak in London there was a shortage of ventilators, they should not be given to the over 70s.

I’m not at all sure how reliable that piece of information is. Though if true it may well have been an attempt

to protect doctors from having to make personal assessments of an individual's chances of survival. I read

somewhere about the traumatic dilemmas some doctors in Italy faced. In March and April I was certainly

afraid of this kind of scenario, of being left to die, put out on the iceberg for the good of the tribe.

21st June.

John Crace writing in The Guardian about the government easing measures said that he felt “suddenly my

life is of less worth and I will continue to stick to my lockdown safety routine". Exactly.

I was willing to take every measure necessary at the beginning of March to help keep myself and others

safe. It felt patriotic, a different kind of war that we would fight together as a nation. Now I notice my

increasing resentment that the current mess and muddle has more to do with the mistakes and

incompetence of the government than the virus itself, that we would be in a far better situation by now if

we'd had more competent leadership.

Austria acted so quickly; they had prepared, they had a clear strategy and shut down their borders straight

away at a time when the UK was still allowing flights from China and Italy and doing no testing at airports.

Even in February when we were there, people had learnt from the Italian experience and had already

bought masks and hand sanitiser. Austria is now able to return to a large measure of normality. What must

Europe be making of the death rate here?

Then there's Cummings and Barnard Castle. That was the end of “we're all in this together". Boris has

squandered large measures of goodwill and trust in standing by him. I hear a lot of comment that he's made

us look like fools keeping to the rules and that there's one rule for us and one for his cronies. Others remark

that Cummings must have something on Boris and consequently he daren’t sack him.

What is certain is that people will be less willing in future to do what the government ask. It's a blow to

social cohesion and feeds into cynicism about politics and politicians.

23rd June.

There’s a sense of government panic about the economy, of plans being made on the back of a fag packet,

not thought through or part of a general integrated strategy. And now the famous app that was going to be

a world-beater according to Boris is being withdrawn as not fit for purpose.

I generally limit my TV news coverage just to one bulletin in the evening but today I wanted to hear what

Boris had to say at the daily briefing about the easing.

Well, he's “relying on the good sense of the British people" again! Has he learned nothing from the crowds

at beauty spots and the litter left everywhere the first time round? Good luck with that Boris!

The scientist with him was a picture of discomfort. He squirmed and bumbled through his answers to

questions about the safety of the easing measures, so much so that he managed to say nothing to

contradict the PM and nothing to reassure me or the public.

So much of our national life feels uncontained, barely under control now and a risk to life and health.

A very hot day. I read Hilary Mantel's “The Mirror and the Light" all afternoon. I'm enjoying the excellent

writing though it's a bit of a grim read. No escapism there.

25th June.

There is so much British good sense about that the beaches were packed yesterday. And on Bournemouth

beach tons of litter were left for Someone Else to clear up. Shameful.

It was too hot to work outside so I took the opportunity to do the ironing that has sat there accusingly since

the beginning of lockdown. Eve went to golf and regretted it.

The tighter masks I ordered arrived and look good.

Carol emailed after seeing the scenes of Bournemouth beach on Canadian TV. She commented that surely

this kind of behaviour will lead to more restrictions here and for longer. I'm afraid she's right.

I think there may be trouble on the streets again at the weekend if this heat continues.

28th June.

The weather has broken into warm rain.

Now that we are buying our own Saturday Guardian we wanted to buy the kids from 61 a thank you present

for all their kindness in delivering our paper over the last weeks. They are both keen on crafts so we settled

on a posh set of acrylic paints for each of them.

There was no word from a friend to let us know the money had arrived so I texted. We’re shocked and sad

to hear that her husband died very suddenly two days ago.

We’ve been concerned since lockdown about whether the family has had enough money to live on and we

wonder now how she will cover the funeral costs. The secure nursery job we once thought she had turned

out to be a zero hours contract and not eligible for the furlough scheme. And there's no sign yet of the

nursery re-opening.

She’s more upset at the moment that she won't be able to have many people at the funeral and most of all

that there can't be the usual prayers in church for him. With no family in the UK, the local church community

is her family she said and they are taking care of her.

29th June.

Working all day.

We would have been starting our two week holiday in Austria tomorrow. Though it would be very nice to be

heading off to mountains forests and lakes, it doesn't feel like the end of the world. We don't want to risk

flying at the moment and as UK citizens we would have to isolate for fourteen days on arrival.

July 2020

July 1st-7th

July already and though so much of public life is opening up, our daily life is not greatly different from the

early weeks of the lockdown. We can travel further of course and see friends and family in person albeit

outdoors and these changes are certainly the differences that make the difference in feeling more

connected, less confined.

Our days have settled into an easy domestic routine, so much so that I’m finding it hard to stay mentally

sharp. Despite this I notice in myself a chronic tension that nothing cuts through, it's hard to completely

relax even after a drink and attempts at multi-tasking usually end in mistakes and muddle. I was late for a

client appointment this week when I was out attending to the bees and forgot the time. A bad sign but a

timely cartoon in the Guardian about lockdown “brain fog" made me laugh and was some reassurance that

I’m not heading for dementia ...well not yet anyway.

I notice I'm not exercising as regularly as I did at the beginning of the lockdown perhaps because it's easier

sometimes to stay a bit foggy and comfortable in the chair. I've lost a couple of pounds by not snacking

between meals. So many temptations like Gregg’s sausage rolls or Costa cakes have been out of reach

and I haven't missed them at all. I need to get back to regular exercise which I was so scrupulous about at

the beginning of the lockdown.

With regard to managing the risk of infection we stay firmly within the guidelines, socially distancing and

wearing a mask when others are around and are still not prepared to go anywhere where the risk might be

even slightly increased. Neither of us trusts anything that Boris and his government say. If he says

something's safe enough, I start thinking about how it might serve his own interests. I wish we had a leader

who brought some confidence and containment in these frightening circumstances but what comes to mind

is the old slogan - don't buy a used car from this man.

I notice that clients too seem to have found their own routines and though restrictions might be limiting,

most have adjusted and made the best of it in their own ways. The fear and even panic of some in the first

weeks of the pandemic have settled into something more routine and dogged, into waiting for life to get

back to something like normal, but in the meantime their concerns are much the same as before the

lockdown.

We walked over to our friend who’s just lost her husband, flat on Monday to take flowers and a card, feeling

awkward in the circumstances to be at the door in masks. It was hard to see her so shattered and grieving,

hard not to be able to give her a hug or sit indoors and hold her hand.

Lots of calls with friends and family this week and a meeting of my women's spirituality group on Zoom

which went surprisingly well despite the deafness of several members and the slightly awkward delay on

Zoom conversations.

From time to time something happens to remind me how differently people react to the pandemic. We

waited in one afternoon for an engineer to arrive to service the boiler and I was curious as to why he was

not wearing a mask. As he was leaving I asked him why he didn't wear one for his own protection. He said

he had one in the van but “it frightens people" so he never wears it. I asked if he wasn't anxious at all about

going into the houses of strangers all day, that for all he knew we might be carrying the virus and could put

him at risk but he said he never gives it a thought. (No thought either that he might be carrying infection

from house to house.)

Boris ramped up expectations of the weekend by jumping on the coat tails of the USA and choosing the 4th

of July as the day to reopen the pubs. For the headline writers I suppose. Independence Day; this is what

we've all been waiting for apparently. The comic book end of the press were calling the day before

“Pissmas Eve.”

Hair dressing salons will also be given the go-ahead.

I did expect disorder and drunkenness but poor weather and the re-organisation inside pubs to keep

customers at a distance made it a bit of a damp squib in the end though young people continued to drink in

large street groups all over the country.

And people seemed just as enthusiastic about being able to get a haircut at last; the pubs were rather

upstaged if anything. Certainly haircuts, the competition to get appointments and the feelings before and

after are still prime topics of conversation across the age groups.

It will certainly be good for our own morale to lose the Bad Hair In Lockdown look.

The harvest from my planter has been very satisfying...the first courgettes and beetroot, lettuce and spring

onions for our daily salad. I would like a raised bed next year where I can grow an even greater variety of

vegetables.

July 8th-14th.

The cricket is back and what a moving sight to see both the England and West Indies Test teams take a

knee at the beginning of the morning's proceedings. The shift to public displays of support for Black Lives

Matter is an extraordinary development in a few short weeks and gets me teary every time I see it.

Things are opening up on all fronts. Pam and Paul have decided to drive to South West France for a month

and Pat and Cece to Cornwall but we have no plans to go far until we see what effect the opening of pubs,

shops and hairdressers has on infection rates. It feels as if everything is opening too far and too fast.

I still don’t have any sense of the country coming through a crisis into safety and better times. The jobs

situation is dire with even John Lewis announcing some store closures. There is certainly a sense of panic

in the government about the state of the economy. They are pushing on regardless, taking risks with the

virus in order to get the economy moving. The elderly and frail will have to shift for themselves now.

That the cruise ship industry has no immediate plans to start up again was bad news this week for Terry

and Krissie. They may have to sell the house if the present situation drags on. Terry, ever resourceful, has

been busking on the seafront to raise some cash and Krissie is successfully growing the bulk of their

vegetables and fruit this summer. These are desperately worrying times for their family.

Hollie rang for advice about a suicidal friend. I was relieved to hear later that they've postponed their Greek

holiday until next year and are heading to the Devon seaside instead. Even for them the risk of flying or

being locked down abroad or even worse of getting ill abroad with a child to care for was too much.

We have checked out our hairdresser's to see what the new arrangements are in the salon and it all looks

quite safe so at last, at last! we have made hair appointments.

I spoke to Edna who is still shielding and now feeling rather lonely and fed up with staying at home. I can

understand that she’s actually got a degree of sensory deprivation and for the good of her mental health

needs to go out and see something different and stimulating if she's going to stay resilient. She's done so

well at 90 to cope on her own throughout the lockdown but a drive out in the car would be a tonic for her

now.

A reassuringly familiar return to the highs and lows of being a West Ham supporter. Triumph last week and

the hope that we might avoid relegation but bad news this Saturday as our immediate rivals gain points.

Boris has said in an interview that wearing masks might...MIGHT! ....be a good idea when we go into

shops. He can't commit and say that they actually would make a difference to public safety as evidenced by

the majority of European countries. Diffidence, hesitation, lack of clarity and commitment and the cowardice

of hiding behind suggestion instead of leading from the front is his trademark messy style and it serves this

country very badly in the present crisis.

I felt like the cartoon little old woman yesterday as I tried to buy a newspaper in a socially distanced and

safe way. I fled from the airless fog and crush in one tiny newsagent’s and in the next was jostled by one

man reaching across me into the fridge and another cutting in front of me at the till, banging his money

down and running out into a waiting van. Invisible and of no consequence to both No masks either. Where

are you now Michael Gove with your confidence that people will wear masks out of good manners?

We laughed at his naivety but the chilling thought is that he's part of a government we're relying on to get

us safely through this pandemic.

15th July.

Fern braved a first visit to the dentist's though with some relief too as she was half way through implant

treatment when the lockdown came. She was impressed by the stringent safety measures they had in

place. The practice is not open for routine check- ups yet, a pity as I can feel that my vulnerable teeth that

blow up from time to time could do with some attention.

And then the hairdresser's.

I found it difficult after all this time to trust my safely to other people but was encouraged to see that the

family had put so much thought into re-structuring the layout inside the shop and that they will have a

maximum of two clients at a time by appointment only even though they'll lose money by it.

First we waited outside until they were ready to take our temperature. Aaban washed my hair which was

the closest anyone except Fern had been to me since March. I did feel wary and a bit tense. Megan had a

mask and a shield but they were not always quite where they should have been across her face. Twice the

mask was under her nose and once the shield was half up. I told myself that I surely wasn’t going to risk

infection out of embarrassment or fear of causing offence so I spoke up each time as gently as I could

manage and she took it well with repeated “sorry”s.

And it was all worth it; great to see them again and be back with the chat and the sense that even under

these conditions they are a hub of local community. I loved my cut and felt back to looking like my pre-

lockdown self. Fern felt the difference too though ideally would have liked her blonde streaks put back in.

But she wasn’t quite ready to risk another hour or two there. Maybe next time.

16th July.

The Black Lives Matter movement has such momentum now and I'm grateful for the discussions I'm having

with a black colleague who has been an activist for many of his 50plus years. We're both interested in the

legacy of colonialism and the pervasive sense of white entitlement running through current politics and

social life.

He recommended a film made by black psychoanalysts in New York in which they reflect on the impact of

race on their work. My colleague is particularly interested in the process of assessment and diagnosis of

black people in the psychiatric services here and in the relationship between client and therapist in private

psychotherapy practice.

Michael Holding has made an extraordinarily moving speech during an interval in the Test Match about his

experience of racism; he followed it up with an interview on Sky News which will have brought what he was

saying to a wider audience. He gave examples from his own life to show how racism operates in everyday

situations, a simple exposition for those who doubt what black people say about what they constantly face

in daily life.

Restricted movement and contact has, certainly not shut down some significant changes in consciousness

across public life but I’m aware that a great many people will have all their energy and attention taken up at

the moment with just getting through the day and surviving the pressures of the pandemic on their jobs,

income and relationships. The issue of privilege is either consciously or unconsciously present everywhere

right now and I wonder what will come out of such a strange mix of events.

17th July.

I think we need to bear in mind the approach of autumn then winter and the likelihood of a second wave

and being locked down again. Some travel now while the weather is warm would charge up our batteries; it

doesn't have to be far but maybe initially to the sea and to visit the family in Dorset while we can still meet

outdoors.

I notice my bank account is very healthy as apart from an M&S tee shirt on-line and some books I've spent

very little on myself since March. Thinking ahead I've also invested in an on-line course on Carl Jung and

Active Imagination which will be interesting to do this winter.

A delightful garden visit with Maiya to give her parents a break. Very enjoyable just playing together all

afternoon.

18th-23rd July.

I have been feeling a bit off-colour with a painful mouth ulcer and a scratchy throat and my mood has been

low too, worrying about how to do the visit to Dorset safely as neither of us feels we should be staying in

their house where there are so many comings and goings including teenage friends of the kids. The

Travelodge is a possibility but neither of us is enthusiastic.

We put far more confidence now in the data from the King's Covid 19 Symptom App than we do in the

government. We send in our health data every day and watching the development of the research they

have been able to do from having over four million participants has been an informative and far more

objective view of the progress of the pandemic than anything in the media.

For a couple of days I'd hit the “feeling normal" option as on balance I was more ok than not. But as my

sore throat got worse I eventually admitted to it though I had no other symptoms at all on the very

exhaustive list that came up.

The next day I was invited to take a test for the purposes of research; the email implied that I was not

expected to test positive. And I didn't expect to either. Fern had to be tested as we live in the same

household so we booked a time and drove to the Lorry Car Park to be handed our tests by a helpful young

soldier and be told how the procedure worked.

The instructions were very detailed and took a while to sort out. Most surprising was having to administer

the tests ourselves. It wasn't pleasant especially the throat swab which made us both gag but it was no big

deal.

Both results came the next day and were as expected negative. Having a test did however cause a bit of a

stir in the family as the word got round that we were being tested for covid – which was both true and not

true – and there were some anxious phone calls.

27th July.

Warnings of a second European wave and furious criticism of a sudden change of direction by the

government which is now saying that people returning from Spain must self-isolate for fourteen days.

Georgia and family went straight from Spain to visit the family just missing the new regulations so we will

give it a week or two before going down there ourselves.

The new obesity strategy is to get people cycling. As Boris has been a keen cyclist for years but remained

obese I'm not convinced this will be successful. Have the government consulted the therapists who work

every day with eating disorder issues and will have something helpful to say about why people lose control

of their weight? I don't see any sign of that.

29th July.

We were still debating where to go for the change of scene we both feel in need of now when completely

out of the blue our friends offered us a stay at their cottage. We were having a prosecco with them in their

garden when the offer came and instantly I felt what a gift it was and at just the right time. It’s exactly what

we need.

No-one has been there since March. And it neatly solves the problem of where to stay when we go to

Krissie’s as it's only an hour away. We're so grateful ....and they are happy for us. We can at least check

out the house for them and make sure it's stayed in good condition. They are very generous to offer this to

us when they themselves are not free to go. We know how difficult it has been for them to provide 24 hour

care for their family member with no respite cover to give them even a few hours' break. Their courage and

resilience and now this kindness to us touches us deeply.

30th July.

Exchanges with Lizzie in Washington as we watched John Lewis's funeral, both sad to see his passing

from the world. He is one of my all-time heroes. Obama reminded us in his eulogy what leadership sounds

like and what leadership does. I took some pleasure from hearing that John Lewis had been well enough in

his last weeks to connect with the Black Lives Matter movement and to pass on a personal blessing to the

younger generations that are taking the struggle forward.

Despite the virus, I still feel fundamentally optimistic, that life and change go on regardless often deep

under the surface of events and that the moral universe does bend towards justice even if it bends slowly.

What the immediate future will be like in the months up to Christmas no-one knows and it's not a

comfortable prospect thinking about cold weather, dark nights, ‘flu, economic recession and Brexit. But the

sun is still shining and there are summer days to make the very best of so on we go.

August 2020

August 17th.

Up until now I’ve been focussing on daily life during the pandemic and we’ve found a weekly routine that

works well for us, using our common sense to stay safe but still managing to meet friends and family

outdoors. And the seemingly endless warm weather has helped even if very occasionally a social plan has

had to be postponed because of rain.

So it seemed more fitting this month to find a different form for the diary and record instead what has been

new or unusual this month.

Though daily life has been calm and pleasurable on the surface, I have begun to feel confined. I'm looking

forward to going to away but the frustration has been more inner, more to do with not being able to do

things spontaneously as the mood takes me, not being able to pick up the phone and arrange something

with other people that just seizes the moment.

We decided one day that a walk in the Park would be a nice change but then discovered that we had to

book on-line, choose a time to go and then be in and out in two hours; apart from all that we were deflated

when we saw that all the slots were already taken for the day.

That does sound petty as given what other people are having to endure at the moment, our life is

comfortable and without practical worries. But as long as we don't get infected, which IS a big worry as we

are both at risk of a more serious reaction to the virus, we have nothing to complain about, in fact we’re

very grateful for all we have. But if I'm being honest, sometimes I moan. And then I hear myself!

I do think that working from home has affected me more than I realised. I get more tired and find it harder to

rest at home than when I was commuting, maybe because work and leisure are less clearly marked and I

have to generate my own boundaries about where work ends and home begins.

The cottage stay was a huge success despite rumbling anxieties about driving long distances again, about

busy motorway service stations, finding a loo, coping with crowds, navigating strange places and other

people’s unpredictable behaviour, all of which took some getting used to after so many months at home.

Just being away from our own house felt like a big step.

Having a holiday break swept away the lockdown cobwebs though. The pleasures of walking in unspoilt

countryside or down by the sea always quite naturally pull everything back into perspective. As we had

expected the popular beaches were very busy. We had the local lowdown on quieter places and even

found one beach with no-one else there where we took off our clothes and went skinny dipping. Total

delight.

At the beaches there were crowds but little social distancing in the streets and virtually no masks to be

seen except in shops and not even then. It could have been any August day at the seaside in any other

year.

We arranged a visit to old friends for a long overdue catch-up and a garden lunch with the Bournemouth

family, all of whom went to a great deal of trouble to make sure we felt secure and comfortable. But there is

always an edge of anxiety in me about putting my safety in the hands of others.

I wish I were more trusting. It isn't that I suspect others of having bad intentions, more that my work has

made me aware of how complex human motivation and behaviour can be. I automatically factor in the

unpredictability of others and that adds an edge of anxiety to my social life which the threat from the virus

has made all too apparent.

It was so good to see them all and hard to come away not knowing if and when we will feel as free to visit

again. These August weeks feel like a national respite time while the infection figures are stable and before

the virus takes hold again as it surely will after the schools go back and the colleges open.

Trying to understand the behaviour of the people who are not taking any notice of the measures in place to

reduce the risk of infection continues to interest me. My hairdresser's opinion is that these are selfish

people who think only about themselves, who have had poor parenting, have never been taught how to

control what they want or to think about other people as well as themselves.

The most common reason - or excuse, depending on how you see it - that I hear from friends and

acquaintances is that the need to care for their own mental health sometimes means that they ignore the

rules. There will no doubt be individuals in every community who for whatever reasons put their own

interests first but I think there are wider forces in play too. There has been plenty written in recent years

about the narcissism of twenty first century social and cultural life, of a pervasive sense of personal

entitlement and self-absorption. But I wonder if taking little notice of authority is also the consequence of a

decade of austerity and the widening inequalities and systemic unfairness which has chipped away at

respect for the rules and for those who make and enforce them.

The behaviour of Dominic Cummings when he broke the lockdown and was not held to account by the

Prime Minister will have confirmed for many people already cynical of politicians and the political system

that the dice is loaded against them. Why should we take any notice of what the government tells us to do

when it's plain to see that there is one rule for Us and another for Them? was a widespread reaction across

the country especially after the comic and almost insulting press conference that Cummings was allowed to

make from the garden of 10 Downing Street. The response from many may have been to look to

themselves and their families first after all the trials of lockdown even if that means a crowded beach for a

day of pleasure and relaxation.

I think the trust between the government and the people, a precious asset but so delicate, was damaged

after Cummings fled to Barnard Castle and I suspect Johnson will never again be able to rely on the degree

of consent and cooperation he had from the people of this country when we first went into lockdown.

What has also worried me even from the beginning of this crisis is the lack of effective enforcement on so

many fronts of our national life. The issue of masks is a prime example. Masks must be worn in shops by

law; but the police have refused to enforce it and the shops are afraid of aggression, even violence,

towards staff attempting to enforce it so the law is broken, there are no consequences and respect for the

law undermined.

All we're left with is Michael Gove's reliance on universal good manners and consideration for others. This

would be laughable if it wasn’t so frightening. There is an underlying sense of instability at the moment, of

weak and ineffectual authority at the top which is afraid to enforce sanctions or take firm control over public

behaviour so we're left with individuals doing what suits them personally while the interests of the

community as a whole are not defended.

This absence of firm leadership has generated tension between those who do keep to the rules and those

who don't. In the town the shops anyone challenging a person without a mask risks tapping into a latent

aggression that seems to be just under the surface of social life just now. One friend commented to me that

she thought some of the people in shops without masks were looking for an argument or fight, that they

were full of tension and anger and the issue of masks is just a way in to acting out different opinions about

freedom and responsibility. I have noticed myself that there is sometimes a swagger and a stare that

challenges you to comment at your own risk and it can come from both women and men, most commonly

people in their 20s, 30s and 40s.

Right at the beginning of the introduction of masks in shops I did challenge a whole line of young men

behind me in the garage M&S queue. As I walked back down the line I said simply as a statement, “no

masks and you know, you could be the death of someone like me.” They stood like stones. Did it do any

good? I doubt it but it may have made some of them think. But I felt better stating the truth of it and that I'd

raised a protest on behalf of the more vulnerable. I have to be mindful of my own anger in the face of

behaviour that threatens me personally and makes me more afraid than I want to be to venture into public

spaces. When I do see someone wearing a mask it feels friendly and considerate as well as protective,

almost like a warm greeting.

I notice too how the choices people are making now about masks, foreign holidays and social get-togethers

are straining some personal relationships. There has been a cooling between two of my old friends about

the decision one of them made to fly to Italy for a week. A colleague told me how she’d been surprised by

the behaviour of some of her friends in deliberately ignoring lockdown rules and added rather sadly that

she’d realised people you think you know well are not always who you think they are.

18th August.

Johnson and Williamson are on the front of the Daily Mail depicted as Laurel and Hardy - a fine mess over

the A level results etc. Quite a jolt that the Daily Mail, usually a reliable cheerleader for a Conservative

government, should be so mocking. But the incompetence is breathtaking.

These young people will never forget the emotional upheaval of the days before their exam results. And for

many the repercussions go on.

I have booked my x-ray and scan with the Dr just a month or two early in case there is a second wave. The

peak here in London when general medical services were suspended including treatments for many people

with life-threatening conditions has turned my usual anxiety about medical tests on its head. Now I'm more

worried about NOT being able to see a doctor.

August 30th.

Lizzie emailed this morning from Washington asking if she was going crazy - could it really be true that

thousands of people in London, Washington and Berlin have been on the streets demonstrating “against

the virus"?

Just in the few months since March we have had the so-called culture wars of the Black Lives Matter and

Extinction Rebellion movements, a growing conflict between the economic and social threat from the virus

and the threat of serious illness and death for the older and medically fragile and now it seems we have a

reality war about whether the virus is real and part of a conspiracy to control us. There have been

allegations on Facebook recently that the government has an island where it keeps children for the rich and

powerful to sexually abuse. It all has a psychotic edge to it.

The day after tomorrow the local schools go back which feels like a whole new phase of the pandemic. I

welcome it for the children's sake though the risk of infection spreading more easily is worrying. Also the

weather is set to get cooler which will mean a re-jig of when and how we can meet friends and family.

Social life indoors will feel much more threatening.

I have no doubt that infections will begin to rise again and that we don't have national leadership competent

enough to contain any significant spread. The test and trace system still does not work and I think attitudes

have changed since March and people will not be as willing as they once were to accept government

restrictions.

But who knows? None of us know what will happen over the next weeks and months, in fact the not

knowing is a significant part of what ails us all. There may be a vaccine next year which even if not 100%

protective may lower the risk of serious illness and death for our age group so it seems unnecessarily

reckless to take risks now out of impatience for a return to the old life. For the foreseeable future at least

Fern and I will just stay as safe as we can and make the best of every day whatever its limitations and

possibilities.