Solitary thoughts

Things that are happening to me right now:

I’m totally inside my head and thinking crazy things like :what if I wore a clown outfit all day, how sad it would be to be sitting grinning inanely on the sofa with my big red lips and big long shoes but with no one to laugh.

I’m eating porridge for breakfast with Oat milk and then undermining the concept by adding cream.

I’m imagining what shelf isolation would look like. I see an empty shelf in the middle of a room with all the books two metres away turning their spines on it. I’m wondering how to photograph that.

I have no free standing shelves!

I’m pining for Arrowroot biscuits.

In my kitchen cupboard I have a lot of little chocolate eggs, Twirls, dates, apricots, and there’s ice cream in the freezer and a lemon tart, and I’m wondering how to resist them. I never thought much about food, now I’m thinking about it a lot.

I need some potatoes…baked potatoes are very good and what about all those tins of beans: endame beans, borlotti, haricot, chick peas and so on, I’m thinking soups, stews, bakes.

I much preferred thinking:

‘Ooh which lovely Bristol cafe shall I go to today to drink coffee and read my paper?’

This is taking being  retired to a whole new level.

But worst of all I’m missing my daily Guardian newspaper. I’ve gone digital and digital is not the same, in the way books on a screen aren’t the same. I hate that you have to navigate a website rather than flick through pages which rustle and fold. I like that the real paper is a contained manageable package. I knew where to go to find the journalists I enjoyed. I don’t like the endless options  when reading online.

It feels like entering a labyrinth.

Maybe I’ll grow to like it.


I like doing the crossword too, I like using a pen to jotting down anagrams in the margin and I like putting it down then coming back to it later by just picking it up!

We’re all turning into virtual citizens, eyes glued to screens, neither touching, seeing, tasting, smelling, nor hearing anything real.

I love real things.

I love pens and pencils and rubbers and paper clips and fountain pens and ink and paper.When I was teaching I had a drawer full of lovely fat felt tips and there was always one that became a favourite.

I have a favourite silver biro.It filled in the crossword grid very neatly. It’s sulking now,in my bag.

And meanwhile we are all holding our breath in case we inhale the very real, invisible virus.


An acrostic: