There was a pink moon last night. It didn’t seem pink to me but it was pretty impressive, nevertheless.
I saw it as I went to check the front door was locked before going to bed. I stepped out into the street with my camera, not a soul about, and stood in the middle of the road gazing up in wonder.
The photos I took weren’t very good but this gives you an idea of the kind of night sky Elliott and ET would have been happy to cycle across.
Today, the Prime Minister is still in intensive care but responding to treatment, amid apparent concerns of a power vacuum.
The Queen has already addressed the nation in a measured and reassuring television broadcast designed to put us at ease and keep calm and carry on. However, this is difficult when the world in which we are currently living seems as if it might has been created by David Lynch. I fully expect to see Bob from Twin Peaks staring back at me in the mirror each morning.
To be fair, if I don’t get a haircut soon, it might just as well be Bob as my own reflection. If only I had not jettisoned that pink hair dye in the cupboard and given it to my daughter for her bric-a-brac stall.
Life for me, though, has not really changed very much. I’m pretty reclusive at the best of times, holed up in my Shed of Dreams, my dogs at my feet as I try to enter a fictional world and bang out a thousand words each day.
Because of coronavirus (I refuse to give it the dignity of a capital letter), my Open University end of module piece of writing has been cancelled. Instead, we’re going to be judged on our last three assignment scores. I think I’m going to be all right, as I only need forty percent to pass and enter the second year of a masters course in October.
But, understandably, some students are very upset, having researched their four-thousand word piece and already begun to write it. But no piece of writing is ever wasted. I once won a holiday for two to Peru by re-nosing an assignment I’d submitted as an undergraduate and turning it into a competition entry.
It’s not a life and death thing. I’m not on the front line being pelted by coronavirus globules. I’m not living in an inner city flat with no income, a brood of hungry children to look after or suffering from a debilitating illness.
All I’m doing to save the world is staying at home.
Now the latest thing is the suggestion that cats should be kept inside for fear of picking up the virus. After a report on the BBC this morning quoting the British Veterinary Association, all hell broke loose on social media.
News reports were contradictory and changed during the course of the day. The BVA’s website crashed and it later ‘clarified’ its position following the story on the BBC .
It said it had given information that related to both general advice and specific advice for those in infected households, but not made the distinction clear.
BVA president Daniella Dos Santos said: “It’s incredibly important that information and advice for the public is clear and we regret that this story will have caused worry and upset amongst cat owners.
“We are not advising that all cats are kept indoors. Only cats from infected households or where their owners are self-isolating, and only if the cat is happy to be kept indoors. Some cats cannot stay indoors due to stress-related medical reasons.
“It is very important that people don’t panic about their pets. There is no evidence that animals can pass the disease to humans.”
That’s about it.
Love Maddie x