Since Monday 16th March, here in France we've had our freedom severely limited; much like most of the rest of the world.
In all those months I've hardly been more than about 20 Kms from home, and even then only once a week; or even every two weeks. I should add that we live way out in the country, and those 20 Kms are the distance to our nearest decent shops.
With a second wave of Covid now knocking at our doors, I'm getting pretty pissed off. We are all now confronted with new restrictions, to which we will naturally adhere. The weather has turned foul too, making matters seem worse.
I won't be stocking-up with bog paper, or baked beans, or pasta. Luckily we have most of what we need, and we also have plenty of dry wood in stock. We'll simply have to hunker down and hope that my local Leclerc supermarket will have a decent supply of quality Turkeys, Sprouts, and Potatoes around Dec 23nd. Christmas Day is on a Friday this year, so no weekend panic buying. I can see no further than that.
Also, bloody Brexit has raised its nasty head again, and the uncertainly surrounding 2021 is ever present. In fact I shall do nothing, and simply hope that they don't notice that I'm still here.
So, I'm in a sort of limbo. Stuck at home, and possibly about to be booted out of France and have my simple eremitic life-style taken from me. It's crazy; I voted to 'remain', and in many ways I'm the ideal foreign resident. I import all my funds, I've never been a drain on the French social services, and I'm a law abiding citizen; which is not something one can say about all ex-pats.
I'm not happy; in fact I'm becoming bloody annoyed (internally).