No. 1 Whitehall, Stroud

I used to live on the second floor and attic floor of no. 2, which is in the same 'terrace'. The house were built in the higher part of Old Stroud, in a 'healthful location' for members of the emerging merchant classes.

Needless to say, I was not a wealthy merchant, but I adored the flat, though it had many, many quirks. When CleanSteve moved to Stroud, we moved not long after to our present house. Unbelievably, that was almost 17 years ago.

I prefer the view from this house, the more practical layout and increased space, but it's a longer walk to town from here. This morning I trundled in with a suitcase full of puzzles to post. Town appears more busy now, though only essential stores are open.

A flowing-bearded man sitting on a bench outside the Subscription Rooms announced as I crossed the square,

'if you've got mental health problems it doesn't mean you can't cope. It means you' ve got something wrong with your brain'.

Silently, invisibly, I nodded assent.

An afternoon of light deskwork followed. My new portable radio arrived. The DAB signal pickup is worse than on my existing set, but the battery life is better, I am led to believe. In the midst of a interlude of chat about dishonest nuns with my middle sister, I remembered a secondhand website and decided to check it out. Almost immediately, I spotted a couple of jigsaw puzzles I had been coveting, and arranged to buy them at a more-than reasonable price. Listed another for sale. Of course, I had to pay to join the site to get members' privileges. What strikes me is that, as I can't be buying and selling cards in the Shambles indoor market, I have found another way to buy and sell jigsaws puzzles. Once a shopkeeper...

A Zoom conference with my work colleagues proved useful. Things could change, but at present I'll be required to go into nursery for a few hours every fortnight, to deep clean only. I'll still be able to take part in my creative writing class. I'm grateful for small, and bigger, breaks in this time of unknowing.