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This week, I’ve been clobbered by some bug that has kept me coughing most of the night and left me feeling lousy. I’ve had to duck out of going to bellringing practices, a lunchtime concert, a Pilates class and my violin lesson. The cabbages on my allotment have probably been eaten by badgers. I managed a bit of shopping at the market yesterday, and that’s it.

Well, sort of. Actually, I’ve done lots of writing and reading, unencumbered by guilty thoughts of where else I ought to be and what else I should be doing. Among other things, I’m halfway though Murakami’s Kafka on the Shore. I’ve fallen in love with his writing.

All the stuff I get to do is great, and I’m really lucky to be able to do it. But sometimes it feels good to hide away from all the usual obligations and expectations. I’m going to do this more often, without the need for unwelcome germs as a prompt.

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