As a couple of oldies we have now been surviving under Covid-19 house arrest for the past three weeks. Slightly ahead of the government edict as Mary had a cold and runny nose and wanted to be sure. Thus we had a weeks practice run before the big shutdown.
Life plods on; we try to keep out of each others way to an extent, so I hide in the office installed in the attic, and the newly installed workshop in a small cellar; its an old house! Actually to tell the truth the workshop only became operational earlier this year after a major review of its prior illicit position in the utility room.
The utility room had gone through a few manifestations since we moved in. All a bit make do and mend I will admit. After years of “misuse” as a workshop stuffed with tools and essential male fix-it paraphernalia don’t you know, suddenly Mary adopted a sod this approach as we collided yet again; she with a full washing basket and me caught cleaning a few brushes in the sink – as you do!
This involved an ultimatum, a significant ‘do one’ moment. I was summarily evicted. The utility room was renovated big time and re-named the ‘laundry room’ to give it increased emphasis of its ongoing function. I managed to salvage all the old cupboards and useful, nay essential stuff and to my great delight and sense of achievement managed somehow to manoeuvre the lot down the narrow stairs to the cellar. This included considerable help from a neighbour, who it was clear, bitterly regretted his offer, muttering ‘What was I thinking’ constantly under his breath. But we managed, part due to the predicament that to reverse up the stairs was nigh on impossible, and as he was at the front end of the cabinet he was otherwise set to be entombed.
The job done I can now spend time drilling and sawing stuff without criticism. I have fixed all manner of essential stuff, some I like to think even proficiently.
Mary is keeping fit through online pilates classes and power walking around the garden. I have mowed the lawn with alarming regularity, trimmed the edges and now researching how to reinstate lawns areas that feature a sheep track around its circumference. I have been keeping fit by using a damn cross trainer I inherited some years ago. It has reminded why I gave up the gym membership. The staggeringly boring process of walking on treadmills, cross trainers and swimming past the WI has resurfaced. I currently console myself with the thought it should be doing me some good during the incarceration.
Over the years I have collected all manner of coffee shop loyalty cards. I have seven at the last count. All within one visit to gain a free coffee. And all from now defunct coffee shops, the last failing as a result of the latest big C, (not to be confused with the previous big C.)
And so we plod on. Groceries have slowly started to remain on the shelves past 07:00am. We are in for a good spell yet before the crisis is over but we are strong and stuffed full of Dunkirk spirit – and like the rest of the UK – beer and wine. We also await the election of the new labour party leader, something everyone has forgotten is still outstanding possibly by the labour party themselves; ‘wasn’t there something we still needed to do?”