Thursday is my one marker day in the week. All the days more or less merge into one - the only slightly different one being Thursday when the taxi collects me at twenty past nine to be at the hairdressers for half past. Today being 'cut' day I didn't get back home until half past ten and by the time I had had a coffee and read The Times it was almost lunch time. I haven't seen the sun at all today - there has been a thick layer of cloud, but now - at seven in the evening, I see the cloud is clearing and there is blue sky. And I did so wish it would drop just one good heavy shower to water the new plants D my gardener put in. But no such luck.
I do find that now I have to use Priscilla to walk, people are really very kind. Today is 'dustbin day' - one week it is the ordinary rubbish bin and the other week it is the garden bin (I have no room for a compost heap and so pay £22 a year for the compost lorry to call) together with plastic box for glass, tins and plastic containers and blue bag for newspapers and magazines. In addition they take cardboard boxes. I think it is an excellent service and because of my age and degree of infirmity they collect everything from the top of my drive rather than the bottom on the roadside. Priscilla and I go out when the men have been and bring in the various boxes and bags and there is always somebody passing who will call out and offer to do the job for me. I always politely refuse any help - we have our little routine and don't wish to appear completely helpless.
When I think of all the things I used to do - going out to lunch frequently, going off to meet friends for coffee and such like - my life has diminished somewhat. In a way Covid and regulations have made it easier for me to get used to it all and now that I can no longer drive a car either I find it is so long since life was 'normal' that I no longer miss it. It is called 'growing old gracefully' I think.