Each day since 20th March which was my beloved's birthday, I have been noting the number of days with my Scrabble fridge magnets and we have now got to One Hundred Days. Who knew that this forced isolation would go on for so long? The point at which I started measuring is entirely personal to me and other folks might have different start dates. Mine stems from the last time the pub was open and I was in it. Other people's start date might of course be more Boris-related.
I am conscious that my lockdown is probably a deal more pleasant than people who have been in city flats and I have ruthlessly made the most of that. Our home is in the middle of a garden and the whole is situated in the middle of nowhere. No neighbours (can't count sheep, cattle and sundry wildlife) so this has been an outdoorsy lockdown. I agree - I am fortunate. And we're all healthy too and I know some folks can't say that. We locked down and stayed safe - for now anyway.
We invited the intrepid granny to spend lockdown with us (five or six weeks, I originally thought - I'm saying no more as she reads this!). So we ate well, particularly when we decided she could go accompanied, masked and gloved to Marks & Spencers Food Hall. She left two weeks ago but we're still enjoying a few M&S treats from the freezer.
So without turning this into 'is this the new normal?', there is some stuff that I think is good - good for me anyway and has given me joy. And then there's the other stuff...
1 Walking - we've walked miles. And because we can do this without seeing anyone else (or hardly anyone, particularly early in the morning) we have really enjoyed this. Watching the seasons change. Loving the warm weather (it's now blowing a gale and raining sideways - don't you love 'flaming June'?) One particular day, when I had a sense of humour failure, Darcy (small dog of dubious parentage) and I walked seven miles waiting for my temper to cool. Nice walk, still angry.
2 Gardening. Cunning plan here. The intrepid granny who has gone from a very big garden to a very small garden in her new home relished getting her grippers on my garden. I gave her a free hand in return for a granny gardening grant. She bought, I planted. Smugly, we look pretty good now!
3 Quiet roads, no litter. Aah... looking back at the halcyon days of early lockdown when I could trundle along the middle of the road without thinking I was going to run down at any moment. Within a couple of weeks, lunatics were on the road, treating our lanes like a race track and chucking their Tesco sandwich boxes out of the window. We even had a couple of cars whizzing down our No Through Road and then deciding to turn their cars on our grass - well, really!
4 No sport. No playing, no watching. Lucky for me that tennis was one of the first sports deemed safe to play even if I had to endure some ritual humiliation at singles before we could play doubles - ritual humiliation there too. Otherwise I might have had to take up golf again to which I am not temperamentally suited - ball too small, stick too long. And no rugby to watch. My wonderful Newcastle Falcons, promoted back to the Premiership, may not play for months and Dean Richards is currently working as a policeman. I love the buzz of live sport, being there, the atmosphere, the crowds. That's a long time away, I fear. And don't even ask me how I feel about Wimbledon.
5 My children. Not being with them, not getting a real sense of how they are, how they're coping, how they feel about stuff - this is my nightmare. Technology is great but it's no substitute for seeing them in person. And a grandson who's growing up so fast. And hugs - missing this more than anything.
6 Crowds. I genuinely don't understand this. I get that I'm privileged to live where I do. We're not grand or palatial but we are isolated. But for everyone in the NHS to have done everything they can to keep us safe, risking their lives in the process, this must be the most monumental slap in the face. And for the police too. No matter where you stand politically - there is no excuse for risking the life of your fellow man by joining in a demonstration or celebration or parking your backside on a beach right next to other folks. I don't get it. So much for clapping for the NHS.
7 Working. Freelance for nearly twenty years, sometimes work feels precarious. I've spent a lot of time over the years worrying about work but I have been so relieved to sit down each day at my computer. No, the rewrite of the novel isn't finished yet (though it does have a new ending) but at least my mind hasn't atrophied and there's still money coming in.
8 Not working. Our great enterprise, as we thought it, to turn the Barn into a B&B was going swimmingly - until this. We have refunded and postponed and honestly bent over backwards to help our would-be guests. And whilst the Barn has been empty, we've deep-cleaned, painted, replaced electricals and much, much more. At last bookings are coming in again and we open at the end of the week. It won't solve the gaping hole of what we might have earned through the spring but at least we're back in the game - unless number 6 above causes another lockdown.
9 Twitching. Yes, we have turned into twitchers. During our regular conversations with our children, we have told them about sitting by the side of the stream in the evening watching the kingfisher adults darting in and out feeding their chicks. And the magnificent red kites that guard their nest, sitting on a branch like totem poles, stretching in the morning light. We have, as far as our children are concerned, truly lost the plot. Away with the birds, if not the fairies.
10. Bladder control. Actually it's more a case of what my nana used to say: "Go when you can, not when you want to." So how much can I drink on my walk, playing tennis or running errands without needing a handy bush? And I am not a handy bush type of person. If anything was to induce me to have a sex change it might just be this!
Long Distance Love by Little Feat - definitely in my Desert Island Discs!
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Q9uJfWJu7wE
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