This Tuesday night was a big one in my family, we finally got the word that some sort of exercise can begin outside of the house. This means a great deal to my husband (an avid cyclist, don’t worry he’s not one of those cyclists which goes around in a gigantic pack, he’s a solo operator most of the time) and my daughter, La Gidg who aside from her school spends the majority of her waking hours on, beside and around horses. So, two very, very hopeful beings woke up on Wednesday morning, but I didn’t. I woke up in a mess. The lockdown has taken an emotional toll on everyone, myself included. I woke up thinking about how awful it must be for the families stuck in apartments without access to fresh air, to the spouses married to abusive partners, or the children of abusers, stuck in there for 45 days now, and still counting. In the UK there is concern about how children who would have normally qualified for free school meals, are they eating enough at home? Is there enough at home? It doesn’t take much of that sort of contemplation to have me in tears and staring out of the window in awe at how much our lives have changed in such a short and brutal way. Then I noticed the date, Wednesday April 29, my husband and I were supposed to be in London going to see a band we both like for his birthday present. We’re obviously not there. We are here. In confinement, waiting, not sure how many of our clients are going to make it financially, not sure of many things, only sure that we are healthy and that we will make it through this crazy time in our lives. Which leads me to the group www.facebook.com/groups/MajorcaMallorca which has kept me occupied and entertained and moved me to tears with its generosity of spirit and kindness over the past six weeks.