Lockdown Diary, week 1

Day 1

I have one apple left. Just one. And it’s very small. An organic cox. Not sure what type of cox, the label in the greengrocers didn’t say, and now I just wish I’d asked. How can I know so little about this, my valued treasure, my own fresh fruit companion? Oh, apart from the oranges that are a bit shrivelled up. But how could I so careless of this small gem of hope? And when will I eat it?

I do have a freezer full of plums, apricots, and rhubarb. But it’s apples I want now. Oh, and I have a pomegranate. But still. You get the gist.

Skyped Jen this morning. Not my sister-in-law, the other Jen. She told me about someone who’d done a marathon on his balcony, so I tried it. Not that I thought I’d suddenly be able to run more than 200 metres at a stretch, but thought it worth a go.

DON’T TRY THIS. Turns out that pacing up and down is not so much a sign of anxiety, as a CAUSE of anxiety. Also thoughts of zoo animals.

Rang Deborah. She said same. Dreamt last night about monkey trapped in cage that haunted her childhood 50 years ago.

More reports tomorrow. Stay safe, comrades.

Day 2

Balcony day, having decided to shun Battersea Park for the foreseeable future. It’s become a hell-hole of panting joggers; as the centre of…