If we were having coffee right now, it would again be a nice cool iced latte – probably frozen espresso ice cubes slowly thawing in milk, and we’d be sitting again in my backyard. We would undoubtedly be accompanied by a small Mackeral Tabby whose greatest joy in the world is that her humans are still always on
hand paw, for pats in the sunshine filled garden.
The soundtrack floating over the grass would be Alannah Myles (listening to Black Velvet and letting her music play on, we’ve just discovered her rocking, bluesy back tracks) and we’d probably be telling you all about the house DIY that we’re finally getting on with.
There have been good days, there have been really hard days.
We’ve ordered cotton masks to slip filters into and wear when we’re out and about (they’re meant to be washed every time you wear them – and it still feels strange to be typing these words. Wearing masks has become more normal – because we are still in the midst of a global pandemic that has claimed hundreds of thousands of lives.
There is protesting and rioting across the US due to the racism still sadly alive – George Flloyd, a Black man who died because his neck was knelt on by a Police officer in Minneapolis – and awareness has been drawn to what shouldn’t be a 21st Century problem. We should have addressed this systemic inequality generations ago.
We’re just staying grateful for what we’ve got – moments of small happiness that we’re lucky to have – the birdsong accompanying barefoot happy hour in our garden bar (it’s less bar, more lawn), video calls catching with family and friends, the amazing NHS who looked after family with a broken hip recently,
That’s all I can think of to write because normal life has been suspended. Absoloutely for the right reasons.