Number of days since I started this blog: 85

Number of times I’ve tried to think of something funny to say: Many. But sadly without success.

We live in the strangest of times. There are people going to work risking their lives to help others on a daily basis. Obviously I’m thinking about doctors, nurses, health care assistants and all the other health care professionals who are still working during the pandemic. They are the ones at the highest risk and we owe them so, so much. They saved my mum and they tried to save my dad. I was once one of these people but I never had to face anything like this. I can never thank them enough.

But I’m also thinking about the people working in food shops and supermarkets, chemists, on buses and trains, emptying our bins and serving in the increasing number of cafes and pubs that are now doing takeaways. They used to get taken for granted, but recently we have all realised how much they matter. And they are putting themselves in harm’s way on a daily basis so that the rest of us can continue to live our lives relatively untroubled.

And then there are volunteers working in food banks, women’s refuges and on help lines like Samaritans. They are prepared to take a higher level of personal risk than the rest of us because they know the lives of others depend on them doing so. (And I’m not just saying that because of Brian BTW.)

At the other end of the spectrum, there are people who are able to work from home or who are not working at all. I know they are very worried about their futures. And most of them are doing their bit to help others where they can. My children fall into this category.

But it isn’t all peace and harmony by any means. I feel an increasing threat looming, and it is not about the economy. I don’t know about you, but I find it troubling that there are so many people walking around wearing surgical masks and gloves, acting as if everyone they come across outside their house has got smallpox, leaping off pavements and snapping at small children for accidentally walking too close. And writing really horrible things on social media about other people who aren’t quite as meticulous about observing lockdown rules as they are, in their opinion.

I am growing every more worried that this virus, while it is bringing out the best in some people, is bringing out the very worst in others. That it is encouraging us to judge other people and find them wanting. The rules, as we saw with Dominic Cummings, are less than explicit and can be interpreted in many ways. But there are some people who seem to think that their way is the right way and the only way. And that doesn’t feel good to me. Not at all.

I’m only writing this to take my mind off that little black and white photo and the pencilled names on the back that are burning a hole in my consciousness. Tonight Lydia arrives. And tomorrow I guess we will talk to Mum. I’m dreading it. But it has to be done.

More allotment flowers from Brian today. They are the brightest part of a gloomy day. Mum is re-reading Howard’s End. And I’m looking for the little pile of cat sick that I know Mog has left for me somewhere.

Anon.

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