Project 365 day 82: Pussy Willow in bloom

The pussy willow in the garden is now moving into its next phase, as its soft grey fur erupts with a mass of yellow stamens. As I hung the washing outside late this morning, thin sun broke through the cloud cover for a few minutes, just long enough to grab the camera and try tiny shots of this, the vividly pink flowering currant and the yellow flowers on the straggly forsythia. I was tempted by the flowering currant, which is a lovely vibrant colour against a dark background, but I like the texture of these blobby yellow stamens, and having shared a photo of the furry buds a while ago, I'd like to follow them through their development.

Today the media and politicians have marked the anniversary of the UK moving into its first period of lockdown. Our personal anniversaries passed earlier this month: three weeks ago J remembered her last day at her care centre, and two weeks ago we reflected on our last, reluctant trip to London, where she needed to attend a training day for a filmmaking scheme for which she had just been selected, and we listened with growing horror in the car to the prime minister's now notorious press conference alluding to herd immunity. Our family lockdown began that evening, and a week later we reluctantly decided it was time to pause home visits from J's team of PAs and carers: six or more people a week coming in and out of the house, most of whom would also be working in other homes and settings, was far too high a risk to someone designated extremely clinically vulnerable to respiratory infections. I hoped I would cope with three or four months providing all her support. I'm glad I didn't know we would still be here a year later. It was only after a further week of exponential growth in infections that the government took any serious action. 

Staying at home has not been a great hardship: we have a large garden, live in a beautiful, peaceful location with easy access to quiet walks, and have some lovely, helpful neighbours who have collected prescriptions, helped with bits of shopping and left boxes of freshly laid eggs at the door. After the first few difficult weeks, supermarket deliveries have been reliable and P has cooked wholesome, fresh meals every day.  We all have plenty to interest us and keep us busy - J had an animation to make, her care centre provided lots of online interaction and activities, and we have a house full of books and craft projects and a garden in great need of more time and work. We have grown used to family chats, birthday celebrations, meetings and activities on Zoom or Facebook. Unfortunately the demands of twenty four hour care have not left me much time to enjoy reading, gardening or online culture. We are eager to receive our second vaccinations, after which we will start to bring back J's support team and, if circumstances allow, start to re-emerge into the strange new world of face masks and lines on floors which we have not yet really experienced. 

Until then, I have about ten more weeks at home documenting spring's changing colours in the garden and hedgerows and trying to capture the shifting light on the Downs landscape. It has been a truly terrible year nationally and globally, and there is a lot I'm upset and angry about, but although my year of hands-on care has been anxious and exhausting, I know that personally we have a lot to be thankful for.