I awoke to flurries of snow, very brief but exciting nonetheless. I also awoke to a private internal rebellion. Yes, some part of me in the deep recesses of my mind is refusing to get on with things. There is prompts and threats taking place. 'You have to go for a walk!' 'Well actually, I don't.' ' You have to stay out of bed.' 'Why should I, it's freezing, did you see the snow? 'Sleet, it was sleet.' 'Oh,and also, I'm not painting today!' ' Why?' 'Just because.' And that inner me stamps it's foot, makes a coffee and goes back to bed to read a trashy romance. Yes, that's what has become of me on Day 14.
I do go for a brief walk but only to the supermarket and that required immense bravery (the fear is real, has the C virus been in today?) and I get out of there and take a deep breath realising I have been shallow breathing the whole time I was searching for flour. Yes, flour. Australians think it's all about toilet paper, we have bigger issues here - empty shelves where once flour thrived. When the French are in panic mode, it's obvious, they bake like most sensible people do; they don't horde toilet paper. They are my tribe.
Towards the end of the day after finishing the romance novel with the usual happy ending, I make that inner part of me help me to do some drawings. It still steadfastly refuses to paint.
On the plus side both Italy and France have had lower death rates. On the negative, France has lengthened the quarantine until 15 April. The daughter called a family meeting and we rushed out to the living room to be told we have another two weeks to go. I don't like to tell her that even that will probably be extended. We put an order in for more #Yankeecandles for our Easter isolation. I think we've eaten most of the Easter eggs (well maybe I have) but the air will be scented with #sweetbunnytreats. For now, both me and my other rebellious self agree that we are going back to bed.
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