One of my big dreams is to write an adult detective novel. I have scores of notebooks filled with ideas, plots and character sketches for it. My office walls are festooned with story maps and photos taken on fact-finding sorties to my favourite countries. Am I making use of them? Am I, hell. Sorry for the swear-word but now that uninterrupted writing opportunity has been thrust upon me, I'm finding it incredibly difficult to settle down in my newly decorated office and write.
My daily routine has been shattered. No endless trips to coffee shops on Scarbrough seafront with my macbook and pens. No browsing in charity shops and flea markets while mulling over ideas. I am stuck at home and everywhere I look there are procrastination opportunities that are proving impossible to resist.
This week, after finding out that there are thousands of people in the same situation as me, I've taken the big decision to drop the guilt and embrace my period of self-isolation. So here's what I've been up to on lockdown.
I've been working on my garden. I've sown tomatoes, repaired a roofless pergola and planted climbers. Unable to go to the ironmonger's, I've made planters using bits of wood, nails and wire found in the shed.
I've been expanding my cooking repertoire. I've taught myself to make proper curry, I've experimented with different kinds of bread making and cooked myself a birthday pie.

I've gone for great walks in my neighbourhood, increasing my foot-count every week.
Perhaps best of all, I've been spending time chatting with my family overseas. Here's a picture of my parents in lockdown on Malta. They don't seem too distressed. Let's hope I can visit them again in the flesh.