The year that wasn’t

 So....someone should write a book...The Year that didn’t happen.....Or..The Ghost year...or something. If I had the time and the inspiration, I might.....of course I guess I have the time....nothing to rush out for ...no appointments to keep really...I just don’t have the story line...bit of a shame in a story, eh?? Maybe I could market it as a ‘write your own year’ sort of book......😂😂😂😂

So here we are August 2020. 

We didn’t have a holiday. Like many others in the world. 

I did resign..the strain of exposure to viral soup while caring for a vulnerable chap made the decision easier than I thought it might. I couldn’t do it. I know I know..doctors , nurses ,all the key workers do....but they are not me and one can only do what one can do...or not. I miss the people I worked alongside. I miss the satisfaction of bringing order to unordered shelves. I miss the chats with people, some of whom have told me so much about their lives that I feel I know them well. I miss the eclectic choices of books some people order and the challenge of finding them...I miss dressing the windows....

J has not had any day service or respite since March. We are a bit weary now.

Before the Great Pandemic of 2020, we were going to have part of our kitchen redone as it had seen better days...however old COVID put a stop to that and now M has decided to do it....there is much sawing and measuring..sanding and other things. Meanwhile, J sits on me and I fight boredom...sometimes boredom wins. I am grateful..truly....just squashed and slightly wild eyed🤪.

I hope the lockdown and subsequent easing hasn’t been too stressful for whoever may read this.

Stay safe

And may the year pass peacefully 

The End