Rosetinted

I am, along with many other people, entering a new phase in our lockdown experience and with the change of  events brings a different emotional response. I have been wrestling with writing the lockdown journal,  not only because now I have less time afforded to me, but also because whenever I sit down to write; my emotions will not allow me to write anything light or uplifting. You see, now I am expected to ease my way into 'normal' human existence, the only way I can describe what I am feeling at this present time, is sad. It is a heavy and specific sadness but one that feels unreal and muted. A few mornings last week I woke up as if from a tragic dream and on the brink of tears, a glum feeling and not a clue of where it arrived from. Not fed up, or worried or puzzled but deep rooted sadness. Fortunately, once I get to work and I try and fill my mind with the task in front of me that feeling escapes me and I am occupied, busy and none too concerned - on returning back into my

It's Monday, and I have just finished work. I have been out of the house and off to a different place to do something different to what I have become accustomed to. Life is changing, yet again. It is a bit of a shock to the system. I am having to perform tasks I would not necessarily choose to do but are necessary to do. That is the world of work. It has been a challenge to invent my own activities on a daily basis, but a challenge which has, on the whole, been really worthwhile. At long last I have learnt to do the activities which before the lockdown, only formulated in my head. I am grateful that I am returning to a job that is, for the most part, enjoyable and perhaps more importantly worthwhile. This feeling of gratitude has not made my recent walks to work any less sobering, as I consider that after the brief interlude of my lockdown situation,  I return, possibly for the next 20 years or so. I walk to work, in gratitude twinged with slight dread - how do I avoid the exhaus

It is the end of non-working lockdown for me. I am moving back to the land of the working folk. I don't know how I feel about the statistics we are being given and whether or not we are any safer than when I was directed not to work. My place of employment has shown itself to be trustworthy and have put their staff and children first, so in terms of personal risk - I am happy to be returning to usefulness and to be with the aspect of humanity I still quite like, children. Due to a reoccurring ankle injury I have not run for 16 days so I am, in effect,  pegged down to a small vicinity. I have been making efforts to change my small area for the better, the weather has helped - litter picking in your street is always nicer when the sun is on your back. Thanks to a very speedy response from Leeds city council, a fly-tipped couch and various items of rubbish have been removed from the street making it easier and more satisfying to clear the smaller bits of rubbish. We have also had

My life is about to change again, from Monday I am going back to school to help with the childcare that we offer for the keyworkers' children, this coincides with my son's return to school and the rain. It is strange to think that in Britain, we've all got used to a life of sunshine and I, along with many, adapted my life accordingly.  It has all been rather pleasant: beginning the day with sun warming my inflexible bones as I carry on with daily yoga, or the morning coffee club we formed, me, Bruce and middle child moving our garden chairs around chasing the dappled sun and sipping coffee, whilst I flitted between checking my new plants. Or the urban walks where we discovered new paths edged in dog roses and hawthorn. Yes! It has been uplifting to feel the sun warm the skin and bring my freckles to the forefront. Now, at least for a couple of weeks (according to the short term weather reports) we are going to have to readjust to cooler temperatures and cloudy skies. It i