ALONE AT CHRISTMAS: Diary Day 8

Newbury resident Caroline ffrench Blake describes spending the festive period on her own for the first time

Wednesday, December 30

The time has come to start thinking of work again. I find it quite difficult to reset my mind back from the separated largely inner world that has developed during the break – but it must be done, as the former outer one presumably does still exist and will be re-asserting itself at some point next year. And of course it may be very different by then.

My current task is to try anticipate some of those differences, from the point of view of a small refugee community organisation that I work with in London, and potential difficulties that will be arising.

The Big Lottery has recently re-opened its Reaching Communities programme, and I’m guessing that practically every small and large charity in the UK will right now be applying to it for funds.

The scale of damage to physical and mental health, also the deepened social rifts and educational needs as a consequence of the pandemic is hard to imagine, and I’m guessing that we may not know it fully for some time. But we have to do the best with what we can anticipate at this stage.

All I could do today was to read through my notes, think for a while, and then buy myself a Euromillions ticket. I can work on it tomorrow, when I return from my trip to the RBH in Reading.

I have decided to get a first class ticket for the train, something I never done before. It seems mad to pay three times the price for the same thing, but I am shielding after all.

Finally, if anyone is considering having a New Year’s Eve party, I recommend reading a short story by Edgar Allen Poe, the Masque of the Red Death. It isn’t exactly festive, but it might be enlightening. And it’s not long.

More tomorrow