The Coronavirus Diaries, 24th July 2020

Celia says I don’t need to keep calling these posts The Coronavirus Diaries. I need to ask her for more detail. But I was hungry and we were on our way to our separate homes after a jolly evening reading poetry outside in a socially distanced circle. I still am hungry. The Thai Green Curry I prepped earlier is still cooking. It’s going to be a late night.

To my mind these posts are still very much Coronavirus Diary entries. Life is still very Covid 19 influenced and directed. The CPD I did this week came about entirely due to the situation the pandemic has put us into; our outdoor poetry reading similarly a result of the virus. It is the new normal, but it is a normal underpinned by Covid 19 and how we respond to it. What we do, how we do it, if we do it, is dictated by our response to the virus.

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The Coronavirus Diaries, 12th July 2020

A very quick, short post as it’s late and I still have things I need to do before I turn in. Today was beautiful, warm sunshine, blue skies, a perfect summer’s day.

I struggled with IT. Tonight I find Photos is still not as it should be. I am going to Das Boot tomorrow but my departure will be delayed while I see Ahmad to get this sorted. At the more t I am deeply regretting changing my computer.

I had supper with Octavia. I cooked. Celeriac risotto and side salad. Delicious. Thank-you to the Guardian for the recipe. I had it had cooked at home, and carried it in one bag, the bowl of salad plus the various extra ingredients in another round to Octavia’s where we left it in the kitchen before joining her neighbours on the street for the first part of their Italian themed evening. I suppose the risotto fitted well, but as I hadn’t known the theme in advance that was pure chance.

The Coronavirus Diaries, 18th June 2020

The rain has cleared the air of the sticky mugginess and although there are some light grey clouds, the sky is again blue. The forecast remains unsettled for the next few days, so I think I shall not return to das Boot before Monday.I have been gathering up some notes, printing articles I have found online for something I want to research. I have also been searching without success for three lost objects in my flat. They are none of them where they should be, so I am guessing that at some point I have thought they would be better somewhere else. That I can’t find them suggests I should have been wise to leave them where they were.

I went up to the Strand, wearing my mask on the near empty bus as is now required. It was raining a little and there was hardly anyone about. The LCE did not want to buy the cameras I had taken with me but sounded interested in the OM-1 which I had left at home.

In Covent Garden loud music played from one of the business premises, but there was little that was open. Preparations were being made for the hoped return of customers. In one bar workers were doing a deep clean. It was a similar story in the Jubilee Market.

Jubilee Market