Covid 19. It’s not the draconian lock down procedures, it’s not the fact the police are getting decidedly close to wearing knee high, shiny boots. It’s not the queues, it’s not the death, it’s not even my looming financial meltdown. No, it’s the fact everyone’s treating this like some kind of hyper-extended bank holiday weekend and I hate them for it.
Today I had to take some supplies down for my parents who are most definitely locked down. I took Junior with me to get him out of the house for a while for something other than a short walk. After we’d dropped off the food and things and had a chat through the window he asked if we could drive the long way home. I decided to show him the areas where I grew up and talk came around to how I used to play out. I told him how you’d be up, fed, dressed and out and you’d try not to come home until you could hear your dad shouting. You’d roam for miles and there was “Red Rock” (a large sand cliff), the water treatment plant, abandoned WWII buildings and motorcycle scrambling course we’d taken over for BMX. He loved hearing it but I noticed he was thinking and it’s clear what about.
It’s been quite some time since I had a blog of my own, probably four years or so. I figured I’d start another one given we’re in the middle of an apocalypse and everything else seems to be grinding to a halt. There aren’t any plans to do any fancy site design, no plans to grow it, no plans to do much beyond leave my musings on here for those who might be interested. If you are, please check back. I’ll be updating this fairly regularly.