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.

Wow, ok haven’t written for 19 days. The truth is that many days I thought about writing, but also thought it would be too boring as everyday looks very similar. And inevitably a long chunk of the blog would start the same – oh god so much washing up, cleaning, childcare…. can I even remember what my practice is, my work, what I actually would like to do with my time, my writing if I have 5 minutes? And dear reader, I wouldn’t want to bore you so you never came back again? 🙂

Cuddling child with one arm. Working on laptop with the other hand. Nuff said.

No time to write… for more see yesterday…

Today our oven got fixed. Now heating not coming on. Am able to do about 30% of normal hours of (paid) work. Completely exhausted. How is this supposed to work? Somehow we make it work…