Fiona’s Corona Diaries (7th April)

Do writers dream in couplets?

My work today has demonstrated the eclectic nature of my freelance life. I made a video of myself walking up and down a single step (three takes because I kept falling over), I filmed a piece to camera (wrong bra but the tripod stood up nicely in the compost) and I have started some technical writing. I didn’t finish the technical writing because I had to make sure I understood it first. This happens to me a lot. Just like it did when I was a teacher. I was once informed by a good teacher friend that all I needed to do was stay one page ahead in the text-book. Great advice except for the fact that, by the time I started teaching, we didn’t have textbooks anymore.

Corona diary updates

  • I decided to take my daily walk to a different beach today
  • This one was even nearer my home
  • I think it still is but I couldn’t check because it was closed
  • On my way home I saw a man sitting on a giant pebble
  • He looked far more comfortable than you might think
  • I saw another man talking into his phone
  • He was holding it out at arm’s length
  • I am no expert but I think that was a tad over-cautious

Conversation of the day

On the phone by text message:

Me: Good morning. I just walked a lovely two.

Walking Friend: Ideal!

I meant the shape of the number two not two kilometres.

My friend and I seem to be doing a good job of making a weird world even weirder.

Word of the day – Covert

It has occurred to me that the words covert and covid look alike. This makes some strange sense because I have recently been displaying some covert behaviour. I suspect this is because I am so unsure about whether or not my daily activities are:

  1. Safe
  2. Essential
  3. Socially acceptable

The result of this uncertainty is that I feel as though I am operating in a permanently covert state. Today I covertly left the house early in the morning, I covertly slipped into the sea for a swim (tricky in a bright yellow swimming hat), I covertly snaffled some lavender tips for cuttings (well the garden centres are closed) and I even caught myself feeling guilty for using two sheets of toilet paper instead of one. Covert (French – courvrir – to cover).

How lovely life will be when we can all be overt again (French – ouvrir – to open). I will flounce out of the house slamming the door behind me, I will leap into the sea throwing handfuls of seaweed and shouting, ‘hallelujah’, I will spend all the money I haven’t spent on cafe coffee in one fell swoop at the garden centre and I will gleefully wipe my bottom with handfuls of padded loo roll.

By the way, has anyone else noticed that we now live in a society in which it is more acceptable to scratch one’s arse than pick one’s nose?



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