So, the government has indicated its expectation that we’ll remain locked down for another three weeks at the least. Although we’re getting a bit restive with our confinement, the risk of contracting the plague impresses us enough that we can’t foresee breaking out of lockdown even when the state permits us to. We can wait until the hospitals have cleared the overdemand for beds, especially ICU beds — and even longer, if there’s the prospect of a vaccine.
This morning dawned rainy and chill, so I frittered away forty-five minutes or so (not pure frittering, since it gave occasion for me to remember our friend Jonathon Delacour), at which point the rain seemed to have moved past. I started away on my warm-up exercises in 8° made chillier by the breezes and, in short order, a return of the rain. Apparently the unpleasant weather provided an incentive to keep moving, as I got home in another 9:45. Then after a short interval, back out to the grocers’ to get this morning’s Times and some soy milk. I put the soy milk to work fulfilling Margaret’s request for eggy toast, then spent some time exploring public domain copies of Hooker’s Laws. Reaching a satisfaction on the multiplicity of options available, I turned instead to reading more Newman. This in turn led me to transcribing part of Newman’s Via Media of the Anglicans, which occupied the remainder of afternoon, save for a delightful visit from the Greatest Grandson in the World (and his parents). Pizza for dinner, more Spooks, and time to sleep.