I  have a sore throat and a fuzzy head, and I keep taking my temperature, but I think I am ok, and don’t need to go into lockdown or isolation. I have just been for a brisk walk up the Brae, then down to the beach and along the coastal path.

I breathed deep yoga breaths, making the air go right down to the deepest capillaries, and then sat for a short while on ‘Wee John’s bench’ and viewed the busy sea and sky.

Reminds me of that Chris de Burgh song, ‘Lonely Sea and Sky’ where he describes lords and ladies in stone holding hands through eternity… Anyway my view was of a flotilla of merganser ducks (about 20 in total) bobbing through the waves and a large tanker making its way to Grangemouth. Ahead the horizon was wispy with cloud and around me the gorse was daring to bloom. I don’t think I have THE virus, even though I did venture to Glasgow on Friday and milled around with hundreds of women at the annual Craft Fair bonanza.

We washed our hands religiously or royally, it depends on your method. Margaret recommended I say three “God save the Queens” to fulfil the stipulated time to froth up.

I was blown away by a lady called Sheena J Norquay from Inverness way, a master quilter.

Her design won in a huge show either in Birmingham or London and the piece now  hangs in the Bernina offices in Switzerland. I listened, and felt very enthused as she discussed circles, and all the various things you can do with that simple shape. I nearly curtsied when we left, I felt I was in such a great presence!

We did drive to Stirling to get my William Morris quilt quilted by the long arm quilter. A massive machine that swoops and swirls the threads all over the piece. Very professional. It was a husband/wife team, and we all sat and deliberated whether gold thread was good, or a strawberry motif. John was quite bemused and we can’t wait to see the finished work around the end of April.

My latest passion is wool felting, and sitting beside Jill up at the Arts and Crafts group on a Monday evening, I can pretend that I can do it. She is an expert on wire and beads and anything miniscule… After making my blue tit, and doing very well, I nearly wrung its neck in frustration, trying to do its silly wire legs. Anyway Jill interceded and helped twist the wreckage into some shape and  now I am as proud as Punch. I have such aspiration, maybe a robin next, or a wagtail? And what about a golden oriole? John had better get busy making a large aviary to display these great works.

And the reading! I have converted the household to French Literature. We have been reading ‘Nana’ and ‘The Ladies Paradise’ by Zola, and loved the scoundrel ‘Bel-Ami’ by Maupassant, and now we are absorbed in ‘The Diary of a Chambermaid’. I have a fleeting image of a kitchen described by Zola as having a huge iron grill big enough to roast a martyr! And a description of a lady’s dress swishing out of a  room with the soft whisper of a snake.

After much deliberation, I have decided to stay with this lecturer, Roland, and study ‘The Iliad’ and ‘The Odyssey’ by Homer next term. I am sure they are the basis of Joyce’s ‘Ulysses’ so that might have to go on the reading list too.

In the meantime,  I am having a break and reading the autobiography of Julie Andrews – my reason for living when I was eleven. I even named her as my hero when asked who I revered whilst being interviewed for a teaching job. The head’s lips twitched when I said Julie Andrews, and later she said she could have hugged me, as everyone else said, ‘Their father’, or ‘Ghandi’. She had just been in an amateur dramatic production of the Sound of Music as a very good Reverend Mother.

We went to see the Russian state opera company perform ‘Madam Butterfly’ last Thursday. Again the singer was huge and Wagnerian, and dominated everyone else. Sadly she didn’t look like the gentle geisha, but she did have the sense to cover the child’s ears when she hit the high Cs and Fs, as she sang looking straight into his little eyes. He may have been spared from certain deafness or shattered ear drums.

Apart from that, the music was sublime and we booed Pinkerton as though we were at a pantomime  at the end. He was such a cad.

Gerry came round yesterday with her crew, all dressed in my hand knitted jumpers. I was very gratified and so we all sat and posed like a modern day knitting pattern.

Only Cathal has been neglected in my endeavours. He put on a brave face and offered to be the photographer instead. I look quite mighty sitting up. Next time I shall lurk behind the sofa.

All my little people are growing up, Bonnie clocked 6 and Hazel turns 3  tomorrow. Darcey is now 4 and Dillon is 2. John’s little Jenson is 1, so it is all good.

John is doing well at the gym doing his running, skiing, rowing and whatnot. He has just come back and told me that he has just pushed 200kg on the Leg Press machine (!!). I told him he needs to put a bit more effort into it…

Nick is improving daily, and only uses one crutch to get about. The right foot is still swollen and taking longer to heal. He goes to see the orthopaedic guy tomorrow. We shall see.

And that is that. The days are getting longer, and the daffodils are nodding their pretty heads. The woods were swathed in snow drops and we managed to grow three this year, which promptly died in the wild February rainstorms.

I do hope all these biblical plagues of rain and flooding and viruses clear off, and we can get on with life and living and being happy.

I can’t stop humming this from Madam Butterfly.

‘One fine day you’ll find me

A thread of smoke arising on the sea

In the far horizon

And then the ship appearing

Then the trim white vessel

Glides into the harbour….’

La la la la! I’m off for my home-made soup and home-made bread, and maybe a taste of home-made jam!