By Arachne

My first day of self-isolating (apart from a brief foray into social distancing in the corner shop) has been pretty much like my life for the past couple of months: writing emails, planning boxes, taking a phone call from the solicitor, phoning the estate agent, pondering how to move large quantities of bricks... 

Then this evening, in anticipation* of a time when I feel like eating but not cooking, I reversed my practice of the last two months of running down the store-cupboard because of the impending move, and prepared a couple of meals for the freezer.

*for fellow word-geeks, I am absurdly happy to be using this word in its original sense, now lost from most online dictionaries, and am delighted to find it nonetheless as the first definition in Merriam-Webster.

(I'm also amused to see that there's another place in that sentence where I could have used the same word in the same sense and am a bit regretful that it would have made the sentence unforgivably clumsy.)

I do realise I'm just talking to myself now but that's fine. I really am a perfect candidate for self-isolating.

Black and white in colour 196

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