I Don't Like Change

There's a Chinese proverb that says, 'When the winds of change blow, some people build walls and others build windmills.' I am most definitely a bricklayer - a builder of proverbial walls. I don't like change. I need routine and sameness in my life.

Take driving. I'm only comfortable when I'm driving along a route that I know really well whereas many people love exploring and driving unfamiliar roads BUT right now I'm hardly doing any driving at all.

Shopping is another example. I struggle in unfamiliar supermarkets. I need to know where everything is BUT I haven't been to a supermarket for over ten weeks and don't get me started on internet shopping! Relying on a once-a-week delivery is creating a famine and feast situation here.

Then there's the gym. I love swimming. I'd go at least once a week, often more than once BUT lockdown has sadly put paid to that activity and I miss it very much.

For someone who hates change this is a bewildering time but another quote comes to mind. Benjamin Disraeli said, 'Change is inevitable. Change is constant.' And so I have to accept that the winds of change are blowing and the only thing I can do about it is to build that proverbial windmill.

What changes are you struggling with during this pandemic?

For those people who love windmills the above photograph is of the windmill at Cley, Norfolk, where we stayed on two occasions - two lovely holidays. They're still in business and their website promises that they will reopen as soon as they're allowed to but I wonder if we'll ever get back there.

My Lockdown Garden

I'm not a gardener. It's far too physical for my liking. Fortunately Mr A has a passion for gardening and so here is a collage of my lockdown garden:

And here is a photo of my favoured gardening contribution... relaxing on my swing seat:

Empty

I had thought of handing this blog post over to Mabel the Cat to write but she'd only moan about how the Humans are getting under her paws. She'd reminisce about the days when she could choose her spot for a morning nap without interruption and her afternoon siesta would be spent in blissful silence. Now she has to listen to strangers shouting out from tiny squares on a computer screen, strange sounds from that 'darned piano' and endless discussions about meals. 'Just open a sachet of Whiskas and stop whinging,' would be her advice.

So for all the above reasons I am resigned to writing it myself. I've not a lot to say. I've not stepped out of the front door for over seven weeks. I wake up in the night wondering what the outside world looks like these days. Empty, I suppose. Empty also describes my diary and possibly my life - but is empty bad?

For the first time ever I have had the time to smell the roses - ok, maybe not roses, not yet, but lilac. I've been smelling the lilac every time I walk round the garden - walking and thinking and reassessing. A number of people I know have done just that and have decided that this is not the way they want to live. We all have free will but maybe it takes a major pandemic to make us stop, examine our motives, and decide to move in a different direction. I'm still pondering mine but one thing I know for sure. I never want to return to the manic life I was leading a few months ago.

And now I shall return to my piano practice, never mind what Mabel the Cat says. I'm rather enjoying working my way through my Easy Listening collection and you just can't beat a bit of Phil Collins...

"...You're the only one who really knew me at all. So take a look at me now. There's just an empty space..."