
There’s a kind of madness in the deluge submerging home life. Everything is moved around as we try and sort a sleeping space for my dad and that’s stuck on hold as the blimmin Argos bed seems defective and assembly is taking days. We are sleeping on makeshift mattresses on the living room floor. Bags of food and stuff from the outside build up as they decontaminate and I work my way through washing them safely. I wake up everyday to the noisy crackle of dad listening to his old school radio and fiddling around the radio spectrum. Huge chunks of the rest of the day are filled with noisy crash-bang of little one’s cartoons – Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles movie seems to get played at least once a day. However, what was initially a cause of frustration at the beginning of isolation has now become oddly comforting: ants have found a way into our flat and seem to find it comfortable here. The ants have moved in.
… Confinement Day 40 :: the ants have moved in