One of my cats kittens from three years ago, popped up on my Facebook page a few weeks ago. She was rehomed with her sister and they are grown up and happy. We are thinking about taking in another adult stray cat, but he needs checking over at the vets, and my male cat is going to the vets for treatment in the morning. Life is complicated. Then if my cat is OK I need to find out about treatment, tablets, worst case scenario.
17.4.20, after I had drawn for thirty days with Stoke Urban Sketchers, and I guess at that stage I thought we wouldn’t be in lockdown for long. Our government, and in particular our prime minister was giving out optimistic press conferences saying that we should be able to get over it pretty lightly. I think he even said it was like some sort of flu? Of course things didn’t go that well for us, and now over 42 thousand people have died from covid 19 in the UK. Its almost like the government thought we would be immune with our “stiff upper lips” and “gung-ho” mentality. Clearly they were wrong.
So here we are. How many more drawings will I do before it’s safe to go out properly and not just dash to the shops to get essentials. Who knows when that will be?
Six months after this image was taken, and the garden is in full growth. The cherries on the tree are swelling and lichen is growing on the tree.
Life runs in cycles. Soon the height of summer will be with with us. I hope it isn’t too hot. I don’t do heat. Maybe lockdown will end. Hopefully the virus will be bought under control. Only a small percentage of people have died out of earth’s massive population, but that doesn’t make the pandemic any less devastating. Maybe it’s time to think back and remember all those people who have died. Stay safe.
The door stands in the way. But I can hear people outside, running along the pavement, downhill, then up. A couple of car doors slam. An engine starts, quietly. I want to look out, but the door is firmly locked. It’s late. I could look out of the window, but that means parting the curtains, giving the game away.
A little later…. All is calm again, the mad thunder of feet has receded, I heard my bin lid thud down, but I’m not going to look. Possibly an old beer can? It’s happened before.
I don’t really like living with my front door on the pavement. I wish we had a front garden. There is a garden at the side of our house,iit’s ours, full of trees and bushes. Local people dump beer cans and fag packets in our hedge. Life, and people, have been quieter lately. But if I was put on a desert island I would be OK.
I spoke too soon, cars (with people in) crashing down their gears, rushing to get up the hill. Sometimes they seem to race each other.
If, and when the lockdown ends, I will have to get used to people again.
In other parts of the city there have apparently been large congregations of people, playing house music late into the night to celebrate VE day. People are so badly informed and they are clearly not thinking about social distancing and their own and their families safety.
But it’s been all quiet down our street for most of the day and evening.
However the people round the back of our house had an argument earlier on. My hubby could hear them (and he’s very deaf). I was inside so didn’t hear it. I’m wondering if we should have rung the police. It’s worrying what is going on behind closed doors.
I wanted to avoid VE day. There were so many deaths, so much sadness as well as the rejoicing.
I think lockdown needs to continue. We need to take it seriously. And don’t start me on Brexit!
There’s a bright star,
high in the sky.
It’s 3am again,
and I’m driven to wake,
Like an owl I stay awake,
listening to cars,
So few in these days,
often in the past,
there would be footsteps,
Now there is silence,
deep in this city,
only the odd murmur of traffic.
The click and whir of central heating,
the maniacal hum of the fridge,
the oil heater thermostat kicking in.
too early for the dawn chorus.
The rest of the city sleeps, perhaps….
Of corn fields,
beaches and trees,
escape from imprisonment,
at 3am I shall sleep.
Sorry to reminisce again, but this time last year I was in the process of aintingvthis teapot. The pattern eventually covered the pot. It’s based on the burleigh pattern that they use at middleport pottery.
Middleport, by the way, is where they film the Great Pottery Throw down which has just started on TV again. Its very creative and interesting, maybe I can get some ideas for some new paintings from there? I’m thinking based on the various colours of their glazes. There were some really beautiful results in the first episode. Must ty and hat out of this slump.
Memories play tricks, but I’m sure there were moments in my life when I was happier, or fitter, or could remember more facts. Or even remember the name of the hole in the top of a car that let’s sunlight in…. Roof window? Sky light? OK I know, it’s sun roof….
Some years ago I think I was content. Can’t remember the exact date, but we went on holiday a couple of times and I was fit enough to go cycling…. But the world turns, and I keep getting older. The things you get used to change, not necessarily in the way you want.
I don’t suppose anything can stay perfect, or you can stay content forever, it would just be nice for it to stay that way for a bit longer.
If early to bed, early to rise, makes a man healthy, wealthy and wise. What does late to bed, late to rise make? A woman unhealthy, poor and stupid?
Last night it was 3am before I struggled up to bed. I had contemplated sleeping on the settee but was worried I wouldn’t be able to get back up from it as its quite low down.
I got up really late, still hurting. Everything aches today. I’ve had to cancel doing a couple of things, I’m fed up, annoyed with myself. I’m using my mother in laws walking stick to get around. Im like an Igor, hunched over, hobbling a bit. But I honestly think I’m a bit better today, it’s just finding a comfortable way to sit. I want to be able to use the car but I think twisting to get in might be difficult. Luckily my sister did some shopping while she was here yesterday.
Note to self. Don’t let my hubby leave things in the middle of the floor!
Could this ring read my mood? I’d bought it a year ago, but never wore it. I was always worried the stone, small and dark blue, would get damaged. The stone was meant to tell your mood, but I’d always been calm and had never tested its ‘powers’.
That had changed today, a series of mishaps and then an incident had really upset me.
First a flat tyre, so I had to catch the bus. Then a reprimand for being late, despite my explanation. Finally I was mugged on my way home! Two youths had jumped out at me and grabbed my bag while I was waiting for the bus home.
So why the mood ring? I had got home and realised it had been broken into. All my jewellery had gone, except the cheap mood ring, obviously worthless to the muggers. No, not worth the five ounds I’d paid for it… But anyway I put it on. It only fit my little finger.
It felt warm, it started to glow, red then white. How was it doing this? I wrenched at it but my finger had swollen and it would not come loose. As I struggled I heard voices downstairs! The youths who had mugged me. They must have burgled the house. I felt my throat tighten, and a voice, not mine, shouted loudly ‘stay where you are!’
I flew down the stairs, into the living room where the youths were standing frozen. I pointed at them and the voice, my voice. Told them to stay put. The words seemed to still them. Then I called the police.
I don’t know where I got the courage and strength from. I think the mood ring had boosted my mood and confidence. When the police arrived the youths meekly left with them!