So far this week I have cancelled a visit to the dental hygienist and the chiropractor, but I did go for what could be my last ever haircut!
Since I am an old chap, and my youngest son is still at school (until tonight, I think - he attends a school across the border, in Northumberland, otherwise he would already have been at home for a week), I am required to self-isolate. Interesting - we are not yet under full plague conditions, but it seems only a matter of time until such isolation will be a matter of legislation. Whatever, we decided we should have a go at this - at worst I should develop a few good habits, and see what it involves. I have moved into the attic here at Chateau Foy - there is a decent bedroom, and another room, officially titled the Dressing Room, which will serve me as a working and reading area - I have now installed a proper writing desk up there, for working and soldier-painting. I may have a lot of time on my hands, so I'll shift my activities upstairs as far as possible - let's see how this develops.
The desk is not much of a beauty, but it's solid, has a good working surface and plenty of storage for my paints and knick-knacks. It's carved oak, and I understand it dates from the 1930s.
Last night I watched one of my French DVDs up here - I've seen it before, but it's a goody. L'Homme du Train, starring Jean Rochefort and Johnny Hallyday. The film is supposed to be wryly comedic, I think, but its dominant theme seems to be failure, and the complicated pointlessness of life in general. Recommended for all that. One thing that seemed very odd - and it shows what a deep impression the COVID-19 publicity has made - was all the embracing and hand-shaking that goes on in the film - I kept thinking, "That's not a very good idea...", and then I would give myself a gentle slap (having washed my hands first, of course).
Anyway, I enjoyed it - thought-provoking.
I've received my WSS mounted colonels back from a re-paint after the varnish went horribly wrong last time, and they look very good, so I'll get them finished off and they can join their regiments - that will give me a first painting task for the new station up here in the roof!
A strange time. An exchange of emails with a friend produced some dark thoughts, wondering which of our friends and contemporaries might not make it through what is to come, but I prefer not to dwell on that. Things in the cities must be far worse, of course. Unusually, two apparent suicides near here yesterday - someone walked under a train at Prestonpans, and an Edinburgh restaurateur has gone missing - he may have jumped off the cliffs into the sea here - the Police are looking for him. That does bring it home - a lot of people must be in a desperate situation.
I can only wish everyone all the best, and hope that the situation becomes clearer. One thing I really don't know, for example, is how long it takes for an unknown package to cease being potentially infectious. I read somewhere that the virus in water droplets will only live for 12 hours without a new host, but I have no idea whether that is true. My parcel of WSS officers arrived this morning - I had a feeling I should leave it for a day before I opened it - in the end I opened it and washed my hands thoroughly, binning the packaging.
That's the sort of thing that would be helpful to know. If we don't get official information, the dreaded social media will come up with something more exciting - recent scares about the potentially lethal hazards of ibuprofen were fake news, apparently. There's a good opportunity for people to behave sensibly for a change - that would be useful.
