One year on

Six months ago I wondered if I'd be sitting here in six months time, still talking/typing to myself. Well, here I am.

Monday, March 16th 2020. The last time we went shopping together.

That evening Boris told all over-70s to stay at home for their own safety because of Covid. A week later he locked down the entire country... three weeks of staying at home to "Flatten the curve" and "Protect the NHS", he said. 

He lied. He and his Govt have lied repeatedly ever since.

A year later, I'm still trapped, still moaning on here for want of something better to do, still desperately missing my family and watching my shrunken life slowly pass by. Some days are better than others... but mostly it's just a case of trudging on, one foot in front of the other, to get through it. Today is particularly difficult, knowing how much of our normal life we've missed for an entire year.

We look for high points and moments of enjoyment where we can... walks, a few treats, the garden, bits of cooking... but, my god, it's getting harder. It's said you can get used to anything if you try; well, I've tried, but I'm definitely not getting used to this.

It's insane what they've done to this country and its people, an act of complete madness from which I doubt we'll fully recover - not in my lifetime, anyway.

We're in this state, not because of a virus but because of the mishandling of it by the Govt. The virus isn't the issue - they're drunk on the power of being able to tell people exactly what they can and can't do; it's gone to their heads. There's no longer any rhyme or reason to it... I'm not sure there ever was; it's a power play, seeing how far they can push us. Just a massive experiment.

Not long now and I'll be getting measured for a straitjacket - could I have one in black to match my mood?

In the meantime, the cooker needs a good clean and I must put some washing on. Mr S-V is painting the banisters. Later, cauliflower cheese with glazed carrots and peas for dinner. 

Life in the fast lane...