The Hay Fork

In amongst everything else we are gradually moving our stuff back into the house after the builders. I love this French handmade ash hay fork we bought in the Lot.

More funeral prep sending ideas for poems and music back and forth. I put the Klemperer Bach St Matt’s Passion on. I didn’t know this music until I by chance bought the CD set on a visit to the John Radcliffe hosp when Mum had broken one of her hips. It was clearly sitting on a fund-raising book stall waiting for me to happen along.

Later we had a bbq. It was a beautiful day and just no traffic on the main road. Neighbours passed by and we exchanged a few words and a Happy Easters. These little things matter so much now.

I think it’s safe to say the honeymoon period of the lockdown on Day34 is well passed. A psychologist on Twitter suggested hope is so much more possible when we feel involved and heard and supported, rather than patronised or talked down to, by governments and states. I’m sure that true.

The evenings are still chilly at 500m. The fire is burning oak logs from a tree I cut down over a year ago. The cycle continues.

Thank you once again for all your kind comments.