Wavering is definitely taking hold. In the meantime improvement work continues on the Warwick estate as the new painter in chief gets to work on the front gate and fence.
Painting is a calm, meditative occupation and always brings other rewards aside from how good it looks at the finish and this is indeed a great job, well done Mrs. W!
I guess dealing with The Covid is a bit like climbing up a ladder. On the lower rungs there is little feeling of any danger but the higher up you are there more wobbly it gets until eventually you run out of courage all together but still cling on to get the job done. The leg muscles being over tensed start to ache, the feet begin to hurt and trembling can set in as you tire. The work however is somehow finished, a rest, a little diversion a change of height, whatever it takes, the job gets done.
We reached the trembling stage I think maybe three weeks ago and the wavering has commenced. Half a dozen family members descended on our garden for father’s day and since then there have been incursions through the French doors for Nan’s dinners in the old familiar manner whilst we have sat at the regulation distance away on a small table to ourselves. On at least three occasions our inside loo has been called into service and dinner invitations are increasing.
The subtlest influences undermining any determination to remain safe are on the one hand the behaviour of others regularly in the news and on the other the complete absence of either an adequate policing policy or clear and effective government advice. There is widespread public disregard and a government whose own members flagrantly flout its own rules.
We continue to monitor the level of risk as we see it, we have purchased our masks and I am sure that the day is quite near when we will venture out.
Be careful up there Mrs. W. The ladder is wobbling.