Week 4 of London Lockdown, or Day 25 to be precise. We had a government update yesterday telling us that the lockdown was going to be extended by at least another 3 weeks throughout the whole of the UK – no surprise there. But what then? Perhaps they will let the young people out. But only those who don’t live with their parents. My children are already arguing about where they will put me, or themselves, in order to ensure they will be able to get out of the house. I suspect I will end up getting locked in the attic.
The solidarity we’ve all witnessed and the mass outpouring of love and support for our NHS has been overwhelming. Boris is out of hospital and recovering at Chequers. His thank you to the NHS was raw and emotional “our unconquerable NHS, powered by love.” He thanked many of the nurses, in particular two – one from New Zealand and one from the Philippines. I hope he remembers that the NHS is a global village when all this is over.
Our London streets remain silent, except every Thursday evening at 8pm when the whole city erupts and we burst out of our cages. Clapping, whooping, cheering, banging saucepans, an occasional tambourine, whistles, even fireworks. It’s so incredibly moving and uplifting.
“As we stand still, our heroes stand tall, underfunded and overworked.”
Thank you NHS, we are all rallying behind you.
Whilst it’s been horrendous for them witnessing and working hard in the hospitals, the small glimmer of hope is that the Nightingale hospital is thankfully still almost empty and many hospitals are not at full capacity. Hopefully, we are all making a difference by staying in our homes.
Having said that, I just went out and did this for my daily exercise…I haven’t run for ages, it’s not good for my back, but I was nominated for the 5K challenge to donate £5 to the NHS and if Captain-What-A-Legend-Tom can do it, then so can I. He’s now raised over £15 million. His goal was £1,000. So, so uplifting, so I will give my donation directly to his efforts.
Meanwhile, back at the ranch, we got through our week of quarantine with very few arguments and little fuss. Friday night cocktails for the three of us has become a thing (much to the disappointment of my children I suspect, who are amazingly positive about our 26th meal in a row together) . We normally don’t have the ingredients to make anything fancy, so we tend to either drink wine or beer instead.
7.30am Getting pretty used to the bloody noisy birds waking me up and possibly sleeping a bit better, not really sure. Still waking with slight dread and can’t listen to the radio. Fear levels raised instead by checking my phone for news and then brought down again by the mass of yet more silly videos. We’ve all had a selection of sore throats, blocked ears, upset stomachs….but trying to remain calm – these are not necessarily symptoms and we haven’t been anywhere. Think about suggesting to the children that we make up a song, perform a dance, do something HILARIOUS, because we are failing the world of social media, but this is only a very brief thought, because I know what they will tell me to do if I suggest it.
My favourite joke this week is:-
8.00am Get up, forget to make bed (already slipping in standards I had heard help with morale)
8.30am Trying porridge for breakfast. Good for morale apparently. Sturdy.
9.00am My daughter and I go for a long walk in the park. Really uplifting. Must remember to try and do more long walks and commune with bloody noisy, annoyingly joyful nature whilst we can.
11.00am Spend ages hiding eggs all around the house and in the garden
noon Watch the kids do the easter egg hunt whilst beginning to get lunch sorted out and reading a great new book. Honestly brilliant. Highly recommended. You will be shitting yourself page after page, but given that’s what we’re doing anyway, I don’t think that bit matters. It’s truly gripping – about the Mexican drug dealers and a mother’s desperate escape with her son. Essentially Jeanine Cummins has managed to highlight the true human suffering of migrant’s everywhere and I hope it makes a difference. It certainly got me thinking.
1.00pm Daughter makes hot cross buns which I am super impressed with. I didn’t think they’d work but they were truly splendid. I eat chocolate and hot cross buns whilst cooking.
3.00pm Not very hungry, but we have our celebratory Easter lunch. Lovely. But quiet and we toast all those missing from our day. We were missing my mother, my brothers and their families and my son….this year our celebratory meal was for three. Last year, whilst it looks like my mother was already preparing for social distancing, we had many more peeps:-
We made the most of it though and the weather was warm enough to eat outside:-
Not a very appetising Easter pudding. Cheesecake decorated by daughter. Looks like a nest crashed on the floor and we scraped it up and put it on the cake. It’s still in fridge and is destined for the bin very soon:-
4.30pm Clear up in manner of the new domestic goddess that I have become. With actual Marigolds on. Spray everything.
5pm Another walk. With the fam. My kids are being truly amazing about this. Everyone is. But it’s surprising. They are simply getting on with it.
We watch the ducklings:-
and admire yet more bloody blossom:-
6pm Friend’s surprise birthday Zoom drinks. So many of us, it’s like the opening scene of the Brady Bunch. We all toast her and drink a bit and say stuff all at the same time. Some even change their backdrops so they look like they are at the Northern Lights or Paris, but sadly with misshaped heads. This means that this week I have had two Zoom birthday parties, a quiz, book group and several catch ups. Still haven’t worked out the Pilates by Zoom, but I’m beginning to think that perhaps it’s not my thing. I love seeing everyone, but it feels like we’re all in the classroom and maybe just a call is better. That way, I don’t have to put any make up on, brush my moustache or tidy up whatever is behind me. Also if I finally do the pilates, I have to strap my waist up so it doesn’t dangle down whilst I’m doing the Superman pose and not sure I can be arsed.
7.00pm Thankfully no one hungry so we all contemplate going to bed. I consider doing something else from my increasingly large to-do list; sorting out all my emails, cleaning the bathroom or starting a box set. But CBA. I call my mother instead and drink more wine.
This image of the beautiful pink petals juxtaposed against the grey curb reminds me that it will all be OK in the end. We will get through this. The world is carrying on doing it’s thing and we have just had to step off the rollercoaster for a minute and get on the round-about. It’s a lot slower, but good things will come of it, I’m sure.