OYSTERHOOD is reclusiveness or solitude, or an overwhelming desire to stay at home.
It was a calm start to the week. Refuse bin out, cats fed, coffee made, a few quiet moments in bed. I had a plan for the day, but then chaos erupted and Plan A became B, and then C, and eventually I was just happy that I did not end up with Omicron. The most important part of the day was the evening with my love: we watched TV and had a lovely dinner together and the world seemed a much better place. Although, driving home, I could not help thinking about the petrol price rise on Wednesday and what that will do to other prices and life in general. It is hard not to despair.
I also found it very difficult to leave the latest Renée Ballard novel at my love’s house. He has a copy and I was feeling greedy (I am reading two really good books at the moment, so it’s not like I need more), wanting to escape – or rather disappear completely – into a story. There are so few safe spaces left in the world.
The Book Lounge is running a #MyBookLounge campaign – check it out on social media and post something if you can.
I am editing again. A real page-turner and great fun.
Yet, the thing that I am looking forward to most in the next while is that time around Christmas when my part of the city becomes a ghost town and everything is slow and quiet. I don’t think that I want to make any plans for the festive season. I just want to do what feels right in the moment. And I need to rest.
Be kind. Wear a mask. Support local. Get vaccinated, please.
“Physical distancing remains one of the key strategies to curb this pandemic.”