May ends with official “release” but is the reality leading to a dead end?

Is the “Lockdown” being staggered or simply staged by a government eager to crank up the wheels of economic necessity?

Warm weather over the weekend sent the crowds flocking to beaches and outdoor areas with, seemingly, little sense of any lurking danger; the government’s “Stay Alert” message being too vague to mean much to all those who know they want fresh air and the company of their friends.

Only more visible illness close to home will shake the new, upgraded Pandemic life frame to settle this, most likely, temporary excitement to bring the dangers of the C-virus back on everyone’s plates. Perhaps that sense of “it can’t happen to me” is the underlying thought process?

The problem for many will be how to continue with social distancing and following their own need to keep safe by avoiding contacts when the official word is that, even those more vulnerable who have been “shielding”, can now head out into the wider world. Whether they choose to or not is being left to the individual for now. How many weeks will it be before Covid-19 patient numbers increase to worrying levels given that they are still significant today?

The political machinations of these last months are complex and tiring; the lack of solid government isn’t helping anyone or any business. Then there’s the black cloud of Brexit to throw into the smouldering mess, with little hope for a miraculous resolution delivering some glorious golden days of full employment via well-paid jobs and happy homes like the cheerful fresh-faces and clean environment, usually bursting with natural flora and fauna, found within the pages of vintage Ladybird Books.

Thus lots to worry about on top of our own home life which isn’t getting any easier. Health concerns hold the top position alongside the economic and financial practicalities of house and garden maintenance. Strange to open these pages and see how many months have slipped away since the last post as a year shut down forever. And, in a matter of weeks, we’ll be facing the first anniversary of that ghastly night when the stroke smashed both our lives forever. When asked about it all, I often reply that there’s nothing much left to say but expletives! And no one is listening anyway!

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