I don’t take vacations away from my friends. I take them with me! If not for coronavirus this would be the final day of my week away at the cottage in Langrigg, Cumbria. I’d be having lunch somewhere, quite possibly the Beehive Inn at Eamont Bridge. Veggie lasagne and chips, and a half-pint of something. Instead, I’m sitting in my garden at home. The cottage booking was cancelled, of course. Hire car too. Instead of a week visiting places up and down the east coast — Holy Island, Bamburgh, Alnwick Garden, Morpeth, Belsay, Blyth — and a week in the Lake District, I’ve spent the fortnight at home in lockdown. No car. No trips out. No visiting friends and family. A weekly walk to the supermarket for groceries. Occasional visits to the local corner shop. My daily walk for exercise. The house. The garden. Before the holiday I’d had three weeks working from home. That wasn’t easy and I’m not looking forward to getting back to it. It was all so new, strange, and scary. The country — in...
Exploring mental health and supportive relationships