Jeremy Thompson is a former Sky News presenter in his seventies.

Here he documents how the coronavirus is impacting everyday life with a personal diary on the pandemic.

To catch up, read about what happened during week one, week two, week three, week four, week five and week six.

Monday 27 April

Monday again. Where did the weekend go? "What weekend?" Karen in Spain asks us.

One thing certain was that Sunday should have been the London Marathon.

Last year it raised more than £66m for charity. This year it was cancelled. Instead thousands of people stepped up to try and fill the fundraising vacuum.

Among them six-year-old Dougie Cahill, our friends' grandson. Dougie suffers from Type One Diabetes and he wants to raise money for research to help find a cure.

So he ran his own mini-marathon challenge, completing 26 laps of his grandpa's garden in Lancashire.

So far Dougie has raised more than £2,200 for diabetes research. Just one of many heroes trying to make a difference.

Captain Tom Moore has certainly started something.

On our regular park walk we talk about the vibrancy of the spring colours - fresh green oak leaves, the reds, pinks and blues of azaleas, rhododendrons, magnolia and bluebells.

Maybe it's because we have time to linger and enjoy them or perhaps we're appreciating the little things in life much more.

Either way the colours seem more vivid, the birdsong much clearer.

Passing some local pubs, now barred and bolted, I dream of the day I'll be able to order a hand-pulled pint of best bitter.

Again it's those things we used to take for granted that now mean such a lot.

Tuesday 28 April

There are signs of stirrings on the work front, whether government guided or not.

Our local hairdresser is offering appointments next week, more in readiness than in certainty.

Friends in Spain say their local hairdressers are already opening for business.

My mate Tony in Manchester, who owns a glass and window fitting company, tells me he hopes to get his teams back on commercial sites by 11 May.

I tease him that his fitters will only be allowed to handle glass that's over two metres wide.

Other folk we know are champing at the bit to get going again whilst there's still something left of their businesses.

Some I've talked to who are lucky enough to be working from home seem to be doing longer hours than usual.

Son James and wife Lisa, in event management, have just organised a virtual conference for 800 people, with live streaming from three continents and even a live DJ set.

New technology is already changing the way businesses operate.

For those of us not working, we're starting to feel guilty about those household chores we were hoping to put off for ever.

You know - sorting through that overstuffed cupboard of junk or descaling all the kitchen appliances or rehanging the pictures.

Now there's no hiding place. We're doing 49% more "tidying up" than normal during lockdown, according to a

Sky News survey. We're also doing way more cooking, gardening and reading.

But curiously having sex is only up 7%. Spring clean or coition? You decide. Maybe this pathogen is a bit of a passion killer.

One couple we know claim they have been exercising so hard they have to go back to bed afterwards to recover. That's right, I said recover.

Wednesday 29 April

More on my idea of a one-way walking system round our parks to avoid COVID-19 contact.

The Aussies are way ahead of us. Pam in Sydney tells me they're already doing it in Canberra. They've opted for a clockwise rotation. Very sensible.

Reporting from Melbourne, my old news mate Bob tells me the Aussie authorities have come up with a few anomalies when interpreting new regulations.

On the Murray River, you can fish from the north bank in New South Wales, but not from the south bank, because fishing is banned in Victoria.

While a surfer standing up on his paddle board got his neoprene wet suit collar felt by the cops as it was deemed a recreational boat.

If he'd stuck to lying down on a surfboard he'd have been okay.

Mind you, our friends Bob and Jackie were told off by police for driving a mile or so up to Epsom Downs to take their dog for a walk.

They learned the hard way that using cars for pleasure is a no-no.

We know an awful lot of grandparents missing their little ones.

They keep in touch as best they can. Video chats and sing-songs. Ros has started reading bedtime stories to her

granddaughter. But it's not the same as a good cuddle.

The smaller children simply don't understand what this separation is all about, as they shout "love you granny" into a Zoom lens.

After all, we barely grasp it. This diary seems to have taken on a life of its own. BBC Radio in Belfast calls to talk to

me about how the blog is creating a sense of community.

Sharing stories - sad, serious and silly - makes us realise we're all in this fine mess together, as Laurel and Hardy might have said.

Thursday 30 April

Last week I reported on the perils of homemade haircuts for men.

This week many of our women friends have revealed their greyest worries about roots growing out and untended

hairdos.

Then I hear from my cosmetic surgeon mate that he's getting lots of discreet messages from female clients pleading with him to break out of isolation and refresh their botox.

So some serious isolation issues about greying roots and falling faces. I start to realise these are the first signs of "appearance anxiety".

Our now daily web chats, up close and personal, with family and friends mean we're under greater scrutiny than

ever.

I notice most of our women friends dress up and do hair and make-up before inviting us to Zoom or FaceTime. No room for falling standards however deep the crisis.

The saga of men's hair continues unabated. Woodsie of Whitton has opted for the bone dome look. Paul in Indochina admits his hair is in danger of doing an Elvis impersonation, while Anna's dad on the Garden Route is "sorting a serious Einstein look".

Jamie, a rugby and journalist friend, has written an article offering top tips for how to look your best on video conferences.

Here are the headlines - sit near a window or in good light, make sure your camera is at eye level, check you've got a good background and be careful what you say near a live microphone.

The world may be listening. My old Sky mucker Ross Appleyard hails me from the Scottish Highlands.

Ross, who covered the 2003 Gulf War in Iraq with me, now runs a holiday estate at Kirnan in Argyll.

Liz volunteers to speak to the vulnerable during lockdown

The crisis means no guests, so no income. But he tells me the compensation is stunning views and endless fresh air.

He and his wife Di have been using the time to uncover some hidden gems on the estate, while trout fishing and watching red deer and golden eagles.

Ross reports there's a lively barter scene with local fishermen - his venison for their freshly caught prawns.

A day of showers finally gives way to a colourful sunset that reflects off my saucepan as we go outside to join the weekly great ovation for the NHS.

Friday 1 May

Curious how lockdown is shaping our viewing. Among those we chat to it seems clear that collective viewing has come back in favour, with families watching shows together.

Lynn draws comfort from "reassuring" reality shows like Repair Shop, Gogglebox, Bake Off, Sky Art's Portrait Artist of the Year and the Great British Sewing Bee.

She can't wait for Netflix's new flower arranging programme to start. Good, old-fashioned telly, as she calls it.

University Challenge is a constant, as we marvel at ultra-bright 20 year olds who know way more than we've accumulated in three score years and more.

I like to binge on crime/police/thriller dramas like Bosch, Money Heist, Fauda and Ozark.

The slick Aussie political thriller Secret City is good. And if you want a chuckle try another Australian series, Rake, about a splendidly charismatic rogue lawyer.

The lockdown laser also seems to be cutting out a few shows. Lynn has finally stopped watching Grey's Anatomy, now into its 16th series.

"I realise I just don't like any of the characters any more," she says.

It goes in the bin along with the Archers, which Lynn ditched after Nigel Pargetter fell off the roof in Ambridge in 2011. "It just got too silly."

The TV ideas exchange is now a big feature of our web chats, giving us enough viewing ideas for another year of confinement. And we might need them.

It's Friday evening, cocktail o'clock and time for another web chat. Friends now mix quarantinis, with or without an olive. I offer some fresh crisis cocktail options.

How about a "Covid Libre" or a "Solitary Sling"? Or maybe a "Piña Corona" or a "Long Isolation Iced Tea"? If you want to stick with wine then try a "Furlough Merlot". The bar is yours.

Saturday 2 May

The first sweet murmurings of liberation come from friends in Spain. The country's tight restrictions are eased.

I hear stories of startled Spaniards and expats emerging into the light for the first time in seven weeks to walk, jog and cycle.

"Freedom, at long last, allowed outside," cries one emancipated pal. Whisper who dares - there's even talk they may be allowed to play golf from 11 May.

Friends in South Africa send photos of themselves walking outdoors for the first time, as another nation slackens lockdown a little.

Pearlie tells us she "howled with joy" at seeing neighbours out on the street. But in the excitement social distancing soon fell apart.

The talk among all my sports-loving mates is when are we likely to see live action again.

At best it looks as if we'll have to settle for watching games on TV played behind closed doors.

Football, rugby and cricket are all making plans for June or July.

All a bit soulless, but better than nothing. My season tickets at Harlequins rugby and Surrey cricket may go unswiped for many months.

One cricket chum Allan Lamb has been taking us on a trip down memory lane. The cricket legend, who I've known since covering England cricket in the early 80s, has been telling tales from great Ashes series on Instagram. Highly entertaining.

His wife Lindsay tells me it's a welcome distraction from worrying about his sports travel business.

Clearing up after granddaughter Bella is also keeping him out of trouble. I listen to a podcast of Rory Bremner's first appearance on Test Match Special, with brilliant impressions of commentating legends like Brian Johnston, John Arlott and Richie Benaud.

Rory tells me that takes him back a bit. Thirty-five years to be exact, probably further back than he cares to remember. Like me he's seriously missing his cricket. But says he's coping well in his countryside self-containment.

One sporting figure I will miss is Michael Robinson, who died this week after a long battle with cancer. I only got to know "Robin" last year in Spain, a country he'd fallen in love with after his playing days at Liverpool.

He became a TV sports icon, the best known football pundit in Spain. He was a larger-than-life character, a great raconteur and all round good company.

From Barcelona, my journalist mate John Carlin, who knew him well, tells me: "He was almost certainly the most popular Englishman ever in the history of Spain."

Some tribute.

Sunday 3 May

Our golf buddies can't fathom why courses aren't allowed to open up here.

All we're getting is more golf "porn" - sexy photos of beautifully mowed fairways and greens, with not a soul in sight. It's torture.

The Press Golf Society, of which I'm a hacking hack member, has set up a WhatsApp group to provide "counselling" and quizzes for its golf-lorn alumni.

Surely, if you're a player who tends to slice your drive off the tee, all you need to find is a partner who hooks every shot. Then you can safely social distance all the way round.

Some late, breaking news. Paul in Hua Hin, Thailand, calls to confirm he'll be allowed out on the golf course on Tuesday. No clubhouse, no caddies, but mandatory masks.

As Paul adds: "It'll be lovely to be back out there. But it's going to be strange playing golf in a mask at 40C and 80% humidity!"

From the heat of the hob, executive chef Anna, isolated far from her beloved safari lodge kitchen in the South Africa bush, is sending us steamy food videos. Mouth-watering images of new creations she's cooking up in confinement at her hideaway in Plettenberg Bay.

In fact meals have become the highlights of lockdown for most people we know, with a few treats thrown in to assuage the loss of our dining freedom.

So much so, we might have to introduce rationing.