What Day Is It?

Whilst many of my friends are struggling to keep track on the days of the week I'm keeping track by the lie ins I get and by my culinary adventures. I can see for some it must be hard. They all merge into one if like so many you have had the structure and purpose taken away. Much as work can cause me stress at times it gives me a reason to get up, sometimes I do some good, I'm being paid and there is a routine of sorts. Without those I suspect I might be coping less well with being shut in than I have done.

An odd Friday Bank Holiday must for some have made it even more odd. I value my days off but miss my ventures to country pubs. My annual leave is quietly sitting there. There seems little point in taking it as I have nothing to do, nowhere to go and nothing to spend my money on. Well apart from stocks of food, wine and beer. Yesterday I threw in some domestic supplies and finally got hold of some hand wash. Not that I was running out but having not seen it in any shop for several weeks it was helpful just to sort it for future reference.

Aware that it is Sunday of course there was a roast lunch. Today it was rare roast beef, Yorkshire pudding and freshly grated horseradish cream. Not forgetting wine, a pleasing Medoc that I found on offer on Thursday. It all came out pretty well. People seem to be enjoying my food porn on social media. Hopefully it is keeping up people's spirits.

Now I'm not sure what to do. A grey sunless day pervades outside along with a strong wind. Not as cold as I expected with northerly air sweeping down nevertheless it is not terribly inviting. True I have my opera, today I listened to Haydn and now it is Mozart, but my mood is a little flat. Not up not down, anyone in the know will know this is dull territory.

Dampening my spirits has in part been brought about by a weekend passing too quickly. Seeing hardly anyone does sometimes add to that. There is the phone and all manner of technological methods of getting outside these four walls but today I crave company. Anyone and no one, they would all be a welcome break.

Loneliness has surprisingly not reared its ugly head too much since being confined. Today I think it has come like an uninvited guest. Oh to cook Sunday lunch for my friends. To visit the pub after. To think of how I should be more restrained than that before work starts again. That sadly is not to be.

So as a parting shot on this mixed Sunday I will offer the thought that one day I will cook for others. Will drink with others. And will laugh with others. When that day comes is to be decided by science, politicians and doctors. And the small matter of the virus. Until then take care.

I Heard a Voice.