A great big show of hands.

Just like last week, at eight o clock in the evening, the whole street opened their doors and stood at the entrance of their houses and clapped and cheered for the amazing men and women who are doing such an amazing job in the face of this pandemic. In the silence of the early evening, the claps carried from all around the area while someone released their stash of fireworks and a passing moped squeaked a little beep.

To the healthcare workers, the doctors, nurses, surgeons, cleaners, the porters, the ambulance drivers, the armed forces. Thank you.

The shelf- stackers, the checkout people, the workers in the stores keeping us fed. Thank you.

The butchers and green grocers, the factory workers, the postie who sees me in my pj’s every morning (sorry)

The wonderful teachers who must be missing their children, even the naughty ones.

The care home workers, the respite workers I see you working so hard with so little and such long hours. Thank you.

The vets and charities working without end right now.

You have our gratitude, love and admiration.

Sneak me a hug.

A handy and slightly funny guide to surviving lock-down with a lot of children and animals in your house.

Yes my longest title yet but forgive me, it accurately describes the current battle for space in our house. It’s a bit of a squeeze with three kids, cat traffic and random sleeping dog. (who I have tripped over three times today).
Myles is in the back room working from home so he claims that room.

The front room is where the television is and is occupied by Gruff and Evie within minutes of them waking in the morning. There is you -tube played on repeat right now and I hope you can relate to the despair I feel when Britain’s Got Talent bloopers, or You-tube road blocks tutorials are played on back to back loops. Or when the tablet gets pulled out for a game to be played on full volume to appreciate the ambience.
But I appreciate we all have different ways of relaxing.

So yes, I have resorted to headphones and may I say how blooming wonderful they are. My little bit of space created with podcasts, playlists and random heavy metal throughout the day.


Snacks are bought with the weekly shop but are now seen as a challenge to devour as soon as possible so I have smuggled a few nice ones to a higher cupboard which require more of a Mission Impossible way of thinking to get to. I like to think I’m helping their ingenuity as the cupboard gets moved every few days to keep everyone on their toes.

We still eat at the table every evening. New topics of conversation have dried up a bit so we play the “Where have you been today ” game. Riveting and exciting, do you know someone actually went upstairs today? We were spellbound. My trip to the supermarket last week was met with so much excitement.

And if all else fails and you want a bit of “me time?”

Get out the vacuum cleaner. Clears a room in seconds, just don’t forget to leave it running just in case anyone thinks you’ve finished…

Home life under lock-down.

Not going out again, ah well, good old sofa it is then. Move over, don’t spill your tea and get the dog off the sofa please.

Front door art.

New one this week.

Some colour on the grey pavement outside our house.

Not many around either so I managed to do the self isolation and exercise very productively. The pavement isn’t as nice to draw on as the stone slabs outside the house but I’ve managed. My neighbours are looking through their windows. They tell me by the time this is up, they hope the whole area will be covered.

A Eulogy for Sue.

Sue was a person that lit up a room with her lovely, smiley face. She wore her kindness like a large fluffy, feather boa. It wrapped you up with warmth whenever you’d talk to her.

She was a classy, sassy, lovely lady and she was my friend.

Sue wore her long blonde hair up in a high bun and tied it back with a braided hairband.

She wore a lovely shade of bright coral lipstick.

Although Swansea it is in short supply of the sun (which she loved), she provided the sunshine on rainy days.

Sue was a nurse and a carer too. I never heard her moan about her work or her life. She simply took what joy she could and gave it back a hundred fold.
I will never forget your kind heart and your beautiful hugs.

And I think the world needs to hear how kind and lovely you were.

So if you are reading, know this beautiful lady’s name and raise a drink for her.

You will be missed by many.

In Captivity.

The World is in captivity, closed in, shut down, no go.

We will paint Rainbows in our windows.

We will plant seeds in our gardens.

We will thrive on ten cups of tea a day and that forgotten pack of bourbon biscuits at the bottom of the draw in the kitchen.

We will watch the news on repeat, looping around until the information spills back out the other ear.

We will wonder what day it is, even though it isn’t Christmas.

We will stop buying.

We will stop.

Lets not go for a drive.

Came outside and stood on the doorstep with my coffee this morning.

No cars.

No buses.

No people.

Just the wind and an army of jackdaws claiming chimneys for nests.

The clocks have moved forward for springtime, it feels pointless. I hardly know what day it is, a bit like Christmas holidays when you’re all stuck in the house but with less chocolate, more cabin fever and a nasty virus pandemic sweeping the globe.

The death toll has risen again this morning.

I sip my coffee and wonder where I’ve put my hairbrush.

Form an orderly queue.

So currently we are allowed to only leave the house for essential supplies and as infrequently as possible. One person is allowed to go. If you are over seventy years of age, you are told to stay in the house for the next twelve weeks and also if you are in certain medical at risk groups.

We managed to leave it a week so it was time to go to the supermarket, I picked my local one nearest to the house. List in hand I waited behind newly laid strips of stripey sticky tape laid out a two metre intervals in the car park.

I wore some plastic gloves, the woman in front of me wore a face mask. Another woman shouted at her young daughter to stop running up to people.

Somewhere up the line, a man coughed and everyone took a step back at the same time.,

A security guard waited outside and as one person left the shop, one was let in. It was a mixed queue of people, from women with prams and babies to elderly people. I had no judgement of these people, I am sure they all had their reasons to be here today and we all waited for our turn to go into the shop.

The shop was quiet and calm, I moved around with my basket putting in my shopping. Tins were in short supply as was bread but there was plenty of food for me to cook with and I certainly hope the panic buying has passed now as there are now strict guidelines on how many items we can buy.

The roads were quieter than I have ever seen today.

The sun still shone.

The death toll rose again.

I drove home and washed my hands.

Now clap your hands.

Tonight up and down the whole of the United Kingdom, we all came out of our doors and showed our love and appreciation for the people who are caring for us during this awful time.

Up and down our road and in the silence of Swansea right now I heard claps and shouts of well done. It was the most incredible sound.


We all clapped for the people who put their lives at risk on a daily basis, the doctors, nurses and surgeons and people of the NHS.

For the porters, the health care workers, the carers, the nursing home attendants, the ambulance drivers to the admins, the receptionists and the cleaners.

For the supermarket checkout people, the shelf stackers, the lorry drivers, the people we see every day that take no credit at all as it is their job.

We clap for you all and we know your names tonight.

Thank you.

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