Cabin Fever...

 ...is something I don't suffer from, on the whole. I've stayed at home, now, for nearly nine months. There are times when I've had no choice but to travel but they have been very few and far between. I sometimes pop round to my mother's bungalow on errands but I only go in if it's absolutely necessary. I deliver prescription requests to the local surgery. I've used as much petrol in these last nine months as I usually use in three weeks.

The funny thing is, I seem to manage quite well without doing all the things I used to do. We're suckers for coffee shops and probably will be again. There's one in particular (Sip Coffee in Richmond) that we used to visit once or twice a week (well, three times, maybe). Some of the regulars had become quite well acquainted with each other and we'd started having monthly poetry and music evenings there. Obviously they're not happening at the moment - this is not the time to be cramming twenty people into a small room.

I do get out for local walks in the fields and hills round here. I'm well aware of how privileged I am and that my life is, in many ways, probably many city dwellers' idea of a holiday (in other ways it's not and the grimness of these days can be all too apparent). What I find interesting is that, not being able to go further afield, I've got to know the area immediately round about us more intimately. 

Some of the time I used to spend driving to work, etc., I've spent making short films set in this local area, just using the camera in my tablet and a sound recorder. This is the first one I made. It has the aura of lockdown around it, I think. Apologies to anyone who knows me from elsewhere and may have seen it already: