Dear diary ...

It's been a while.

Childhood was far too full-on to write.
Parents busy with work.
Feeding us, clothing us, ensuring we washed occasionally.
Especially hands after pooing.
Smacked us to teach us respect.
Never did me any harm.
Teachers did it too. They had rulers, canes and other weapons.
It was legal then.

When we escaped from lessons we wandered about the neighbourhood, causing mischief and having fun.
Any passing neighbour felt free to chastise us.
We knew what we'd get if they told our parents.
Went home for food, emergency treatment for splinters, cuts and grazes.
Then out again in Sun and rain.
We didn't have much, but we were all in the same boat.
Thought it was normal.

We had a wireless but no T.V.
That came later.
Kids these days don't know they're born.
They seem to walk around with tellies in their pockets!
Still, the ones round here are kind enough.
Wave at the window.
It's better than nothing.

Teenage years were trickier.
In 62 things got very tense.
I remember well where I was then.
Not just because I first wrote to you at that time.
I was worried, we all were.
The Russians had put missiles on Cuba and the Americans didn't like it.
At all.
JFK was President then.
We liked him. Some Americans didn't. Killed him. That was later.
He told Khruschev to back off. Or else.
Khrushchev knew he meant it.
They had already dropped two Bombs on cities at the end of the War against Fascism.
He retreated.
Phew!

There were other things to be worried about through the years, jobs, marriages, health scares.
Personal crises. I wrote out the fears then too. It helped.

In the 60s America invaded Vietnam.
Luckily for us Harold Wilson kept out of it.
Thousands of young Yanks were traumatised. Still are, though no longer young.
Nixon planned to use the Bomb.
Wiser heads kept him away from the button.
Legal action persuaded him to resign.
Phew!
Though we never knew about the Bomb.

Life was mostly peaceful, unless you were in the Defence Forces.
Not sure why they say defence when it was mostly attack of other countries.
Ulster was ours, though that was Civil War.
Plenty of friends of mine were traumatised there. Still are.

The Miners' strike of 84-5 was a crisis round here.
More action meant less worrying in a way.
The consequences of the defeat are still felt.
Though few miners wished their sons to go down the pit.
Dangerous work, and dirty.

In 2008 there was a crisis. My money was threatened by banks failing.
You remember I wrote the fears out then.
Drug fuelled young men making crazy bets in the casino they call Stock Exchange.
Banks lending easy money to folks to buy houses they couldn't afford.
Same in the States.
The money system crashed.

New Labour found themselves holding the ring.
Gordon Brown took firm action.
Printed lots of money and gave it to the Banks, slapped their wrists and told them not to do it again. They did though. Addicted to money.

The voters gave the Tories the job of repairing the public finances by squeezing the poor and not so poor. The rich folks did alright, luckily for them.

NHS not so much, but that revered institution had other problems too. New Labour had had a go at that, and Thatcher and Major before.

Now all parties love it!

Funny old world.

This crisis is unprecedented in my lifetime. Pretty much of the whole world got caught up in it.
Experts say it's very infectious but not as lethal a previous ones.

Like T.B.

They had two isolation hospitals in the Dale then. Proper quarantine.

Anyway dear diary, I have been writing a lot lately, as you know.
It really helps with the fear.
I spent so much time researching and writing these memories that I forgot to listen to the news.
That really helped.
Now a confession. I heard that Stay Indoors, Stay Safe, Do it for the NHS, didn't mean we couldn't go outdoors. Experts said some Sun was good for us. Even old people like me.
The other day was very sunny and I went out, up the Dene through the woods. Trees were leaving, primroses and wild garlic flowering, other flowers too. The fear lifted some more.
Out of the woods along the quarry road and up the Velvet Path was just wonderful. At the top I could really see the wood from the trees. The whole Dale westwards too. Glorious.
I met some locals up there. Stopped for a chat. The fear lifted a little more.
Back home, I had no appetite for the noise from the media, stirring up arguments about who was to blame for whatever. How many people were dying, where in the world, where in the country. I found out from folks who knew who had passed and from what.

Of course I'm cautious, I'm not reckless.
Some have died round here, including young fit folks from viral load.
Many people have good reason for fear, for themselves and loved ones.

Aware of that, mind turns to afterwards, sooner rather than later hopefully. Experts disagree about when, politicians too.
Still it helps to imagine what we want to take away from the crisis and radical change will emerge.
My idea is based on "Think Global, Act Local" ... pay attention where we can be most effective.

And if you gave me one wish to the P.M., maybe this: Sort out the scandalous pay and conditions of the carers, in Care Homes and the ones visiting the lonely and most vulnerable in their own homes. Forget medals, just bloody treat them decently.

Question everything. Be kind.