When I was a child I had a friend called Marion. It’s her birthday today. It’s decades since we were in touch and I have no idea where she is, but tonight I find myself thinking about the treasure hunts we used to make around our gardens, and the winter afternoon her grandparents taught us to play clock patience and solitaire. So happy birthday Marion and thanks for the memories of our childhood friendship.
I shouldn’t have laughed when I saw this in the Observer today, but really I could no help myself. I sent the link to Octavia with a comment asking the lines of “who would have guessed?”. When I saw Celia this evening she had had a similar reaction when she heard the police on Radio 4. It was a cynical kind of laughter I know, but these are cynical times. The economy is evidently more important to the government than people’s health, so we get the green light to get pissed but track and trace is still ineffective and a vaccine is a distant dream.
In other news, much of today was spent dealing with the new laptop and trying to access photos and files from the hard drive of the ex laptop. By this evening I think it was sorted, but I was beyond wanting to try it. Tomorrow. Maybe Tuesday. I joined Octavia and her neighbours to clap for the NHS. When I saw Celia later she said no one was out in her street. I hope, I believe, that was because the neighbours were unaware. I find it hard to believe they don’t care.
Tonight I watched a programme where Alex Brooker explored his feelings towards his own disability and spoke to others who are also disabled. It was all a bit blokey, but interesting and at times insightful nonetheless. We met his mum and his five brothers, but I did start to wonder where his father was. I have a friend who is an OT, she is very good at reminding me that at times we are all disabled. If we sprain an ankle, break a limb, we have to adapt to a world designed for people without disability. She says we need to think universal access, not disabled access. I believe she’s right.
I am gearing up for a trip to the West End, or at least Holborn, to exchange my empty soda stream canister at a branch of Robert days, and to leave some books at the Oxfam bookshop. Four months ago those would have been quite unremarkable tasks, so it is strange to find what great significance they have now.
But now it is bedtime, so I need to go out and retrieve MasterB from the great outdoors, do the washing up, wash my face and clean my teeth, get into my pyjamas and go to sleep.
Stay safe. Keep well.