Ringing in the Changes
When it comes to blogging, I’ve been remiss of late. I could put it down to many things: work – which has been busy; settling in on the boat; hubby’s cataract operation wait – which did indeed put us into a hiatus for a year. But these are just excuses.
For awhile I will admit, I went off writing. It became a chore, I did not want to face. It was no longer fun. And someone once said that if that happens, it’s best to walk away.
But in the last few weeks, I’ve started to enjoy the thought of putting finger to keyboard.
Perhaps because I’m teaching from home. A truly bizarre concept if ever there was one. I’m not commuting. I log out at 3.30 and I’m home. No marking because I give feedback as the work comes in. If it comes in after that time, I look at it first thing in the morning.
As I say, truly bizarre and yet so rewarding. There has been some outstanding progress brought on, I have no doubt by the unprecedented one to one.
Perhaps I have returned to my blog because in these strange circumstances, I want something to look back on: a kind of virtual diary, if you will. Perhaps because there are things which need chronicling.
The mother of one of my godson’s is a senior sister, working on the front line to deal with this appalling disease. Her car caught on fire last week. The response and compassion of those who came to her aid, shows perhaps humanity is not a lost cause.
My hubby’s little part time job in sainsburys, has suddenly elevated him from unskilled to essential worker. Though his tales of whole families still trying to shop, some clearly infected, and refusing to leave until the police arrive, makes me spiral into despair.
My parents and outlaws, are both in a 12 week lockdown. We communicate daily; have even managed to get my dad to use video calling … though that has meant buying a new camera for the computer. Of course I worry. But their respective councils have been in touch, doing more than I can from here in lockdown on a boat going nowhere. The outlaws have had a food parcel; my parents assured their rubbish will be collected and Dad’s controlled cancer drug delivered. What more can I do? They have people nearer than me, delivering food. The village shop, the big supermarkets, because they are vulnerable.
Will I keep the blog going now I have returned? Yes, I think so. Mainly because writing this post has been cathartic, but probably because the renewal has just gone out of the bank, and I’m too tight to pay for something I’m not using.
Stay safe out there in blog land. I’ll chat with you soon
More than a Cat 