Day 16

It is another cold morning and I dress in layers, then scoff down a banana and almond butter toasty (yep, I’m still working my way through those bananas). Lately, the highlight of the day is when the postman delivers our mail – another human being – hurrah! But today we are left disappointed with our lot…we receive a letter for the previous owner and a Domino’s Pizza leaflet – they don’t even deliver here.

Sigh.

In need of some fresh air, I pop outside for a breather (via the kitchen for a slice of my soggy delicious banana cake). The bench in the courtyard is covered in bags of compost and plastic pots from the recycling bin and Darren explains, with his best David Bellamy impression, that he is in the process of replanting my dying herbs and treasured Peace Lily. My Nan passed away about thirteen years ago and I inherited her houseplant.   I am the least green-fingered person in the world – cacti have withered in my presence – but I have managed to keep the lily alive all this time, with some mild resurrection. Sadly, it has not enjoyed a year on the farm, so I am hopeful that the tiny green shoots will feel nurtured and loved and will blossom this Spring.

By the way, the Bellamy impression is actually rather good.

After a couple more hours of work I decide it must be time for a pre-lunch hot drink. Now, those who know me, know I do not “do” hot drinks, but in this current climate (i.e. bloody cold) I have taken to sipping a warm beverage on a daily basis. The only downfall is, Darren picked up some bargain custard creams and bourbons at Lidl a couple of weeks ago and I cannot resist dipping 2 or 3 into my mug of salted caramel hot choccy.

With a full biscuit-belly, I take my lunchtime walk in the sun, noticing the blue sky is cloudless.   I wonder if nature is repairing itself, without all the everyday vehicles and pollution.

Usually the trailway is packed with horse riders, cyclists, runners and dog-walkers, but these are understandably few-and-far-between at the moment. It is quite refreshing to be honest, as now I can huff, puff, and attempt to jog without an audience! Irritatingly, the people who cycle past me today obviously did not get the social distancing memo, as they pass by two-astride, about 4 feet away from where I walk. I cover my mouth with a scarf and nod a passive-aggressive hello. Next up is a solitary cyclist, rolling down the hill on the walkway part of the trail. When she is about 50 yards away, I realise she is not moving on to the road and so I quickly side-step before we collide. The cyclist perkily says hello and I respond with a wave, secretly berating her for not moving. I pick up the pace, loop round and make my way back to the house. The perky cyclist has returned! This time, I stand my ground and remain on the walkway (basically, I pretend not to see her, which causes her to veer on to the road) and as she passes I look up and smile, feeling slightly smug.

*****

Last week Darren and I were so engrossed in a TV show, we missed the ’Clap For Carers’ at 8pm, only realising the time at 20:17. We showed our gratitude with a cheers and round of applause from our sofa. We truly are thankful for the frontline workers, many of whom are dear friends, and were disappointed not to have joined in.

Fortunately this event happens again tonight.

We eagerly scramble to the front door at 19:59, but sadly there is no one else on their doorstep. Darren and I clap and whoop for a minute or so and then listen out for any cheering from the nearest village, just under a mile away. We are pleased to hear faint voices and so we clap again to join in with the faraway crowd.

Coming back the warmth of our living room, I cuddle into Darren, a little choked with emotion. He doesn’t need to say anything to show he is feeling the same, he just hugs me a little tighter.