Travelling

Restless legs, I have.
Whether it's hopping on trains or driving around the UK to play gigs, wandering around London town, or travelling abroad to conferences, it's rare to send so much time at home.
Barnet is full of secret walks that have opened up in the past two months. Some of the pathways have been mowed by the council to make sure people remain distanced from each other. Others are more hidden; my house guest has searched them out and we have walked through woods, fields and grasslands that I never even knew existed, hemmed as they are by forbidden and forbidding golf courses.
A different isolated world; we are all living in different isolated worlds. How frustrating to think that this is all going to be prolonged by the actions of an irresponsible government advisor who hasn't got the integrity to resign.
At the beginning of this all, the mother of one of my daughter's friends died from Covid 19, before we were even locked down. We were already being careful; a trip to Edinburgh felt risky and we all but emptied a tube of hand sanitiser on the way back on the train.
Too little, too late: later that month, another bereavement happened which underlined just how out of touch the government were (and are).
Impatient and nagged at by their business funders, they are now pretending everything is all right.
It so isn't.
It is unbearable not to have seen my daughters for months, not to have been able to hug them and sit around a table and laugh with them. A screen is not real life.
I feel so much for the  people, who have lost loved ones, and we are all living with the fear that we are going to be next.