Wednesday 15th April 2020

All week I had been trying to remember what anniversary it was on the 15th. I have been married a few times, so was in a wedding anniversary or maybe a birthday for one of the small army of ex-Mrs Jelltex?

No, on a spring day 31 years ago, 96 people went to a football match in Sheffield and did not return.

I have written about this a few times. It is personal to me, as like tens of thousands of Norwich fans were at the other semi-final, but it was at the other game that tragedy would strike.

All fans who attended games in the 80s or before know that it could have been them, the very breath of life squeezed out of them. Without thinking too hard, I can recall three games where we were packed in so tight onto the terraces I could lift my feet of the ground and be held up by the press of other bodies.

Its not that anyone has been held responsible for the events that day, its the fact the whole establishment from the Prime Minister down allowed a cover up to be carried out, where the guilty blamed the victims, and they all nodded along. Someone should answer for that.

But no one has, or probably will If after 31 years nothing has happened, it won't now. But there are 96 graves, bedecked with flowers, families still grieving, but the establishment don't give a fuck, never did, never will.

Wednesday.

Another day in lockdown.

Normally, on Wednesday, I have a day off from phys, but Easter messed up my schedule, so in order to get the number of sessions in, I decided to have another day with a double session.

I was awake before the alarm once again, waiting for the birds to start singing and for the dawn to creep over the land.

Jools gets up, but I stay in bed to let her get ready in her won time, getting up at half five when I guessed it was time for coffee.

Jools is a blur of action as she does a dozen things, makes me a coffee, does a session on the cross-tainer, showers, gets dressed then go out for a walk and combined litter pick.

She is back at quarter past seven, by which time I have done my session on the cross trainer, cooled off and was getting the office ready for work. Three screes: is that enough? Four keyboards, is that enough?

I believe so.

Jools leaves, I make breakfast and second coffee so I can join the watercooler Teams meeting at half seven, where I learn that some Danish schools have gone back, and my boss is now able to work in the office, just has to get the IT sorted.

And then to work.

Stare at the computer screen.

Drink coffee.

Have early lunch.

Drink more coffee.

I decide to go for a walk. Not far, but to stretch my legs and take some time off for lunch, for a change, so I can take a break from my 100mph lifestyle.

My back is complaining before I get to the top of the drive, so I wouldn't be going far. Just over the fields again, to Fleet House, checking everywhere for butterflies and wildflowers.

Nothing spectacular.

It was misty, but the sun strong. Past Fleet House and down past the farm before taking the first left to walk up the lane parallel with Collingwood.

I do see an Orange Tip, but the approaching post van chases it off its roost, as I crept near with my macro lens primed: I see no others.

But my back is complaining big time, so I walk back up the slope, then past the midden where I have heard reports of a rare bird having been seen, a Bluethroat, but with the midden having been emptied a few weeks back, there was no bird action.

So I walk home for a brew and t get back to work.

I had missed nothing to be honest.

At four I go to do another session on the cross trainer, upping the level for the second half of the session, pumping lard to Siouxsie and the Banshees. As you do.

I have a shower, get dressed, and get ready to prepare dinner; stir fry made with marinated chicken and prawns, all in my home-made sauce. It was rather wonderful I have to say, and enough for Jools to have some in her snap for Thursday.

In order to say thanks to our key workers, I bake cakes, Norfolk short cakes no less, for the dustmen and postman on Thursday. It takes about half an hour to mix up the flour, butter, sugger and the rest, then make into handfuls of cakey goodness.

We have one each to quality check them, which is only right.

And somehow, by nine in the evening, we are so tired we take ourselves and the cats away to our beds.