The curfew tolls the knell of passing day

I've had a day of culture. First up, I watched the second half of Jane Eyre from the National Theatre, London. I loved the staging. Afterwards, I had lunch and an old friend phoned from far away. It was a treat to hear from her again. She is still working as a socially distanced garden designer.

Next, it was time for a short violin recital by Roger Huckle and his son Emil, on behalf of the Bristol Ensemble. They played a selection of pieces by Leclair and Bartok. After tea, I tried a lecture on Dick Turpin and other highway robbers, in the WEA members' area of the national Website. Forty minutes later, I'd had enough of Dick Turpin, and listened to more AS Byatt, the Frédérica quartet, and an episode of the Coronavirus newscast. I've given up on reading the newspaper online, for the time being.

By this time my neck was stiff from doing a jigsaw while listening, and I hadn't had my daily exercise. I took myself through the lower cemetery and along the Horns Valley, passing through bluebell - filled ancient woodland, past an old dry stone wall. The birdsong at the head of the valley was exquisite. I would have lingered, but CleanSteve was cooking supper, and I was expecting a call, so. I legged it back to the house, took the call, went out to clap for our UK key workers, and had supper. Now I'm eating a part of a Lindt bunny and watching a production of Hamlet from the Globe theatre, London.