Weekly roundup and looking ahead

It seems a little insane to attempt a roundup of a week that has consisted of two and a bit days, but I want to do some stuff to make it feel like Friday. Also, this week has lasted *at least* one ice age, so even a fraction of it has a lot of stuff to ponder.

It's also been amazing to see people responding to this blog, reading and writing - we have more contributors lined up, and I hope it'll continue to be a great way of keeping in touch, sharing tips, and creating one more community link while we're all experiencing such turmoil. I thought this would be me and Liz, with maybe one or two more bloggers, plus a little tweetage. But we've had Katie and Kat and Francesca and Robynn and Ruth join already, and there are more people aiming to blog. People have recipe swapped and shared tips already. It is a club.

My main thought this week (aside from the gratitude and amazement at people reading and writing here when there's *so* much distraction available) is how many of us have referenced small shops, and spice stashes, as things that are keeping us going. When the big supermarkets feel like assault courses, it's good to take things smaller. And it doesn't come much smaller than eg a mustardseed. I guess you'd expect people on a cooking blog to have some spices around, but it's been striking how grateful people have been for them. I hope you're well set with star anise and turmeric all round.

My spice rack. And my (bigger) spice heap. This isn't stockpiling, it's an actual problem I have had for, um, a while.

 I've said 'looking ahead' but that seems optimistic - I don't know what ahead looks like. The disease is a lot closer to me than it felt on Wednesday. Cabin fever isn't the only threat we face. But I do know:

A candle. For everyone who needs it tonight. Specifically, my cousin Nick, who gave my parents this candle holder (and its buddies) and who is overseas and I am fretful about.

• It's the first day of Germinal, according to the French Revolutionary calendar, and is dedicated to the primrose, so I've had photos of primroses sent to me on twitter which is never a bad thing. (Four days' time is Chicken Day, which is more of a challenge - feels like taunting given the state of the shops.)
• It was the vernal equinox yesterday, which I missed, so I am instead lighting a candle today to greet the summer half of the year. I had sorta forgotten it was spring now. Light those candles, but carefully. Now is not the time to trouble the emergency services.
• It's the weekend, and I need that drink. 

I've vaguely suggested we could do some themed weeks or club challenges over time, and I am definitely up for as many people as possible sharing their #BoredBaking with us, any week, here or on twitter. But the theme worryingly closest to my heart is that relaxation of knowing the working week is done, feet up, drink in hand. Let's start there.

Again, not stockpiling. I've been doing damson gin for years.

I awkwardly do yoga on Friday evenings (online now, but persevering, and my god it's good to have that fixed point in the week still there), so I'm not declaring #winetime just yet. But tomorrow, let it be #ConfinedKitchenCocktailHour at 19:00GMT. I will be there on twitter. Drink of choice in hand, booze in no way mandatory. But if you'd like to join me, raise a glass/mug/tankard to us metaphorically, on twitter, or with your loved ones. And raise a glass to the people outside, doing the essential jobs - more than ever this week, we've seen who keeps things going.

I shall be having some of my damson gin, brewed thanks to our local veg stall who stock seasonal produce. Their staff are all elderly, and I'm worried for their health, and selfishly also for our veg access if they close the stall. They are a local fixture, when so many recognisable fixtures have crumbled.

PS We've added a donation link to the site header for food banks. We're having some fun and trying to keep sane here, but aware our food struggles are merely aggravating to us. Many people have a much more difficult time, always, but especially now.