Wednesday 22nd April
For a brief moment today, while gardening, I forget about lockdown. I note how dry the ground is now, and consequently that there will be no mud on Burbage Common. For a brief moment I plan to visit the Common at the weekend for a walk and bacon butty. Then I remember that walks must be around Croft Hill, and bacon butties must come from our own kitchen. We walk around the fields this evening and meet a neighbour who tells us that her GP practice called to arrange her periodic asthma assessment, and could have undertaken this today. She concluded that the surgery must be quiet. Not surprising if her GP practice is like mine. During the first week or so of lockdown I received several texts which essentially told me not to be ill, and if I do, don’t visit the surgery. An international feel to the Croft Hill this evening. Two traditionally dressed Asian ladies are picnicking on the New Hill, overlooking the quarry. Dogs are promptly put on leads to prevent them from mugging the picnickers. Three African, rather than Afro-Caribbean, young men follow us onto Croft Hill for a stroll, or in one case half-hearted run, to the top. Tonight, Steven and I, this time with Chantal, once again scan the night sky for the string of SpaceX’s Starlink satellites passing overhead. Again, all we see are stars.
Technically we live in Oaktree House, but sadly the tree had to go.
We now have a thriving Oakstump at the front of the house.
