Thirty degrees


journal uk covid-19

It’s thirty degrees outside and we’re all, including the cat, feeling languid. The internet is down for much of South London, which adds to the general sense of stolid malaise.

The past few days have been much more active. I’ve been buzzing around the house trying to make it a home bit by bit. It’s a tightrope doing the practicalities while basking in the glow of our fresh, new space. Try to sit in the airy new lounge without a care like you never could before, but also get that shoe rack and cutlery drawer insert ordered. When is the sofa arriving?

Outside of our new bubble the country is opening inch by inch. Next week a new raft of things is opening including, most crucially, pubs. Once that happens I’ll be finding the nearest and largest pub garden and bedding in. We’d also like to fill this place with friends for the first time.