This week… this too shall pass

I’m in a funny mood this week. In the midst of conflicting emotions, I think it’s melancholy. The news continues to be conflicting. On the one hand, we all want a break from lockdown, to continue our life as we know it, or knew it. On the other hand, the WHO warns that the numbers in the pandemic are rising globally. My heart goes out to those who are back in lockdown, those actually suffering this disease, and to those who have lost loved ones. It’s heartbreaking.

The rest of us continue as best we can, one day at a time. Every day is precious and I do my best to make the most of each one, counting my blessings, which are many.

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This week… adjusting

This week my mind has been decidedly on food. I grew up eating fruit and vegetables my dad grew in the garden, supplemented by produce shared by the community. One person in the neighbourhood might have an abundance of Victoria plums and another a plentiful supply of rhubarb, and as children we were encouraged to fill our baskets. We gathered nuts and berries from hedgerows, collected windfall apples (while watching out for dozy wasps, drunk on fermented apple juice) and went scrumping for cherries (keeping an eye out for the irate farmer). I cannot recall where that last scavenge took place but in the spirit of making amends, I apologise. What can I say, I was only around seven or eight and the luscious, ruby red, low-hanging cherries were too much of a temptation.

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This week… recovery from lockdown

I’ve been battling with admin all week. A necessary but tedious round of paperwork, bills and similar chores has left me feeling caged up. I’m missing travelling. Much as I like my home, all I want to do is escape to somewhere warm, sunny and new. Finally, one morning I woke early and decided to play hooky (where do I get these Americanisms from!). I packed a breakfast picnic and headed for the beach. Walking for miles I made it out to the sandbanks, only revealed when the tide is out. The fresh sea breezes brought me literally back to my senses. A couple of hours later, like a child I returned home with sandy feet, windswept hair and soggy trousers from splashing through the pools of clear, warm water. Bliss.

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This week… under lockdown (fourteen)

Travel highlights this week included taking the car to the garage for a check up after weeks of sitting idly in the car park. A second trip out was to the local Household Recycling Centre. I kept tripping over the old hoover in the hall after it blew up a few weeks ago and it had to go. I’ve also been doing my civic duty (ahem) and went shopping online with a £100 M&S voucher (courtesy of my new broadband supplier, a gift for switching, thank you!).

Small potatoes you might be thinking but actually it’s a start in my coming-out-of-lockdown process, and it felt good to be doing something normal again. Venturing out it’s clear that despite people’s attempts to appear upbeat, we’re all a little jumpy. In the UK the hospitality sector is scheduled to reopen on 4 July but the worldwide news is troubling. Fresh outbreaks of the virus in many destinations has meant reapplying the brakes. Staying at home forever isn’t an option, however, and this week I feel the need to make a bid for freedom, however tentative the initial steps.

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This week… under lockdown (thirteen)

Another interesting week in the new social landscape. I’ve been under lockdown solo since it all began and this week a PPE-clad engineer came to carry out the annual boiler service, the first person to enter my apartment since March. He seemed as nervous as I was. I also spent four days without internet connection, so this visit was quickly followed by another engineer to fix the broadband. I began to wonder how on earth people coped during the Black Death. While they didn’t have to concern themselves with luxuries like running hot water and internet connection in the 14th century, there must be many similarities to today’s pandemic.

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