Tuesday 24th March 2020

Tuesday.

Day 1 of 21 of the lockdown.

I might be the only person, who on a normal working week really doesn't notice that much change.

The village is a bit quieter, no horses have walked by the house for a couple of day. So not sure if trotting is considered a health risk? Who knew?

Anyway, Tuesday, and this Tuesday, the 35th anniversary of when Norwich won their first major trophy, the Milk (League) Cup in 1985. I have written about it in previous posts, but for something so momentous, I have very few memories of it. Which is shocking really, but then I thought that that 35 years before that, it was 1950, and for me at the time was sounded like ancient history.

Which is what 1985 is, really.

But seeing as there is football now, all we have is memories, and the good ones are always the best, even when there are just fragments.

It was another glorious day in St Maggies, the sun up before six, but cold. Cold enough for a frost. But the birds were happy enough, singing their hearts out.

Jools makes coffee, gets ready for work and as soon as she goes, I am off up to the spare room on the cross trainer. I won't lie, its not fun at the moment, I feel tired and worn out, what kept me going was the thought that Wednesday was a rest day! Anyway, I do another 20 minutes to an 80s soundtrack, then make breakfast, set up the office and am ready to join the meeting at half seven, where we replicate a water cooler moment with Skype.

They had heard of the lockdown, and asked why. I explained the bbqs and the crowds on Snowdonia, and they understood. Restrictions in Denmark have been extended until after Easter, right up to the 15th, the week after I should have been going to Denmark for celebrations for my 10th anniversary with the company. Events had been planned, it will still happen, but sometime later in the year.

Anyway, we are all healthy and in good spirits, after half an hour of laffs and japes, we leave to get on with the day's work.

IN an alternative universe, I travelled to Aberdeen by train on Monday, I had tickets booked, to go to do another audit. Tuesday was to be the day of the audit, and I would travel back by train on Wednesday, work but feeling quite like a holiday.

Instead I had an eight hour Skype meeting where we would try to replicate a face to face meeting.

We got it done, but wasn't as good, and not being able to see the site and facilities was difficult. But that took the morning and after lunch it was nearly one, so as work was quiet, I watched the 3rd place play off in Only Connect, start writing my audit report and field calls, which takes the rest of the afternoon.

I do another session on the cross trainer, upping the resistance to 8, meaning I barely got to 19 minutes before my legs ran out of fuel and I was done.

But another day of double phys, and I knew I would have earned the glass of wine for dinner.

Dinner was caprese with potato bread, and for a change I added bacon lardons to the bread, which has been described by our in house critic, Jools, As "a triumph".

And who am I to argue?

And for some reason I am pooped, too tired for Uckers, so I write, listen to music while the evening slips by.

I read a chapter of Broken Greek before turning the light out.

Pooped.