Holding hands

Well! I'm back in paid work. A month ago I agreed to volunteer, starting today, for the refugee charity I left 2½ years ago in order to help my successor, N, re-adapt the education and employment services from Covid-online to face-to-face. Two short days a week for six weeks didn't seem too onerous, especially since the employment service was my baby and I was quite fond of it.

Then with very little notice a lot of Afghans were moved from quarantine near Brize Norton RAF base into hotels in Oxfordshire and N was asked set up support for them. That's a more than full-time responsibility so this morning I agreed to be paid to work two days a week, with a review after six weeks. 

It was gratifying to see my now-toddler walking independently and some of my innovations so deeply embedded that they are taken for granted. But I still have a lot of catching-up to do.

A friend asked for a different sort of help this evening and by the time I looked up the sunshine had gone. So back to the hoarding this evening.