UNSTRUCTURED

‘A poor life this if, full of care,
We have no time to stand and stare.’

extract from 'Leisure', by William Henry Davis

As I write this, the sun is breaking through cloud to filter through the blind slats at my window.

Life has changed for all of us, providing an extraordinary break in time, and an opportunity to adjust our lives to a different tempo. When I stopped working as an accountant, I found myself seized with a kind of panic at the lack of structure in my days. For weeks I fretted at the apparent waste of time, watched the clock as it ticked remorselessly through ‘chargeable hours’ and tried to stop myself waiting for five o clock when I could ‘pack up and go home’! It takes a while to break the habits of a lifetime in which each day, by its very name, brings a recognised pattern.

As one twenty-four hour period merges into the next, I often forget which day I'm living in, and check the date with bleary eyes in case I miss a rare online delivery. Sleep has been difficult: heavy with disconcerting dreams and not restful.

It's easy, and probably human nature to swap one routine for another, to throw oneself into a frenzy of what the French call ‘nettoyage’ – cleaning, housework, tidying, or a massive clear-out of garages and lofts, and all those related substitutes for ‘work’. But should we not instead stop, and consider doing things differently? A change should always be regarded as an opportunity, and right now we have the leisure to sit and think, to pause a while and reflect on why our working lives have become so frantic. After this phenomenon there will not be a reset; nothing will be as it was and we need to plan for a slower, simpler life in which we hold better values.

I am guilty of overdoing things in the garden during the last few weeks, determined to sow seeds and become as productive as possible. A flower bed has been set aside for growing vegetables and the greenhouse is packed with seed trays and pots. I’ve trained and netted the fruit bushes, and searched online for French Bean seeds – on which there has, apparently, been a run. The photo shows little courgette plants growing fast.

We are definitely drinking more coffee and tea, but sitting out in the garden has been a joy and I am thankful to be able to do so. I read, and listen to audio books, but I am becoming more inclined to set aside a book which doesn't hold my attention from the beginning.

It's important to avoid anything sad or depressing during times like these, and I made two mistakes when listening to 'Sounds' on the BBC. The first was Evelyn Waugh's 'A Handful of Dust' which I had never read, and the second 'Mrs Palfrey at the Claremont' by Elizabeth Taylor, an author my mother used to admire many years ago. Both were beautifully written - but so very sad, gloomy and depressing. My favourite read this month has been 'Long Range' by the American writer C J Box. This author is a favourite. He writes about murders in Wyoming and a game warden called Joe Pickett. His descriptions of the countryside and wildlife there are quite outstanding, and I recommend giving his books a try.

Look after yourselves, my dear readers and followers. Stay positive and try to turn this quirk of fate into a time you will remember not only for its sadness, but also for its little glimpses of joy.