100 days plus and counting …
We were locked down before the Spring Equinox, and we’re two weeks past the summer one and heading towards Autumn for the over-70s.
I still haven’t bought petrol or been in a shop. Totally home deliveries. We started out with Asda and Tesco, and only managed to get Waitrose about two weeks ago, which at least means a free newspaper. We aimed for Friday (Guardian) or Saturday (Telegraph). We’ve only had two newspapers, one of each, since lockdown. Thank goodness for Asda the only one we could get at the start – Waitrose was “no chance.” Sainsburys informed me I couldn’t ask because I wasn’t over-=70, but if I was, phone this number. Many tries failed. Then they removed the number. I will remember this after lockdown when deciding where to shop.
We did keep trying for Waitrose because there was stuff we couldn’t get. All the delivery drivers have been wonderful and helpful. Asda could do with more attention to picking though – when you have deliveries once every seven days as at the start, milk with “Best before today’s date” and then two lots of fish and one of meat, all “Best before tomorrow” is not much use. We also found that Asda peppers were soft and wrinkled every time. BUT Asda were there when others were not, and guess what you cannot tell the difference between Asda blueberries and Waitrose blueberries apart from Asda’s much lower price. I will also remember that in future.
Our routines are totally different to normal life. We wake up about the same time. First thing is to go and open the gates in my dressing gown in case of deliveries. Urban muntjac deer were devastating the garden, and we had to erect deer fencing in January and we have to shut the gates at night.
Then tea. iPad for Karen for BBC News. iPhone for me, usually Facebook.
I haven’t worn a shirt in 100 days. They require ironing. T-shirts don’t. All my T-shirts are going ragged round the neck. But who do we see? I’ll throw them out if normal life returns and with it cloth-recycling bins in the local car park … they took them away at the start. Karen still puts on a necklace every day. I still shave meticulously for comfort.
Then we do Leslie Sansone’s One Mile Happy Walk video every day on YouTube. That must be over 100 times we’ve done it. She’s on 64 million views. She is a brilliant teacher and I admire the construction more each day. We’ve tried her earlier walk aerobics videos, but you can see how she has perfected the system in this one. Three camera set up too, and I love details in that every class member is in grey / black with a touch of orange / vermilion … a headband there, leggings here, trim round a top there, a top here, shoes there. It shows attention to detail. I’m word perfect on the asides now and know the class by name ; Suzy the attention seeker, Nick who has to shout out, Tammy who is so thrilled by praise (and looks like a professional dancer to us), Marvin with his namaste farewell (and nice to see an older male), Shirelle with the cheerful wave, Avril with the smile, Wendy and Fay.
Then breakfast. We’ve only had to resort to frozen fruit 3 or 4 times. Blueberries, strawberries, banana and one other fruit at least with coconut milk yoghurt. We used to have papaya every day, but have only managed to get it a couple of times. I don’t miss it. I thought it was a super digestive aid and ate it daily for 15 years or more, but I don’t notice the lack at all.
Perfect beach weather at Sandbanks. 1st July
There’s always a walk. If it’s wet, cold or windy, it’s the beach. If it’s hot, it’s one mile around the block. You’ve seen pictures of our beaches on hot days. Because of the cliffs, the beach involves a steep walk down and a steep walk up. Good exercise. But our block has a hill too.
Flaghead Chine: the widest and shallowest route to the beach. The zig zags are way steeper.
Nothing gets done. I was 70 pages into writing a new Dart Travis novel at the start. I haven’t progressed. I’ve only read three novels to the end … two in Robert Harris’ Cicero trilogy.
I did finally get Japanese Affairs and The Play At The Arts Centre published on Kindle Books.
Both had been completed well before lock-down. It was just cover design, a final edit and uploading.
I’ve spent a lot of time on 60s film reviews … it doesn’t require creativity and putting the pictures in is steady and relaxing. I’m doing the most detailed reviews these films have ever had. Ridiculously detailed, but I hope posterity will thank me.
Ah, I’ll tidy up and organize my huge record collection! I haven’t started.
I’ll do a final edit on my book on British and American English. I’ll start tomorrow.
I’ll start a new Record Collecting blog. Well, I’ve done about three hours on that.
We’ll tidy and reorganize our books. Haven’t started.
I must sort out the garage and dispose of stuff like batteries and adaptors that have sat in drawers untouched for twenty -seven years. Yes, some were put there when we moved in. Haven’t started.
The hall has accumulated boxes of children’s toys from the attic, as they have been able to visit and use the garden on sunny days. They’re piled up.
By the time I look at a clock, it’s 12.30 or 1.00. Now we can get more deliveries, we have toast for lunch … with marmite, or sardines or cheese. Earlier on we discovered that Ryvita crispbread was better than we remembered. It’s made in Poole too.
What is this lockdown inertia? Everyone says the same.
Karen has started baking cakes and biscuits for the grandkids, which we deliver to them. We never used to bake anything. We started making bread after watching Jamie Oliver’s lockdown programme. My daughter had the brilliant idea when flour was impossible for delivery of ordering a full size sack of Shipton Mill flour. We have about an eighth left. Superb quality and way cheaper than 1 Kg bags.
I’ve been trawling through Ottolenghi’s Plenty cookbook. And Persiana by Sabrina Ghaynour … a great cookbook, though some ingredients are hard to source. We eat earlier. By six usually.
We’re drinking more. Thank goodness for Sunday Times Wine Club deliveries. Solid throughout. Never other than wine with food, but our theatre, film and music evenings out plus socializing meant an average of two wine free days a week because I reckon with driving, it’s safest to be on zero alcohol rather than debate it. Now we have to consciously have wine-free days.
We haven’t binged on box sets – well, the three series of Broadchurch.
We have re-watched a lot of 60s films to review. I’ve watched less streamed theatre than I expected. We had seen all the Globe ones live anyway.
I’ve listened to less music than usual – I guess it’s distracting while reviewing films which have music content.
Far too much gazing at Facebook for me, eBay for Karen. She notes that books and collectables prices are rocketing because so many people have been doing the same.
I’ve stopped carrying a wallet or coins. I just have a door key in my pocket. I haven’t used cash in over 100 days. When we do drive to my daughter’s I keep a credit card and a ten-pound note in my phone cover in case of emergencies. I’m told it’s all contactless now. Will cash machines disappear? I’ve parked in pay zones on the cliff just twice and paid by phone app.
I’ve stopped opening post for three days at least if it looks like a bill or bank statement. I only open immediately if it’s a CD or DVD.
Karen’s car is down to 30 miles and the warning light. Mine’s just below a quarter. It’s mainly been used in a mile to the cliff and back, or a couple of miles to my daughter’s.
I will have to buy petrol tomorrow.
Otherwise, I have never before experienced 100 days which are always the same.
For those of us still working (and able to do so from home), the days at least have a structure and a pattern and a lot of changes. We’ve both been at our desks at 07:00 every workday and then stopping by 4pm, and doing other things.
I’m taking a photography course, I’ve learned to bake, I’ve sorted and tidied my sheds ahead of starting building work on a two-storey extension in a week’s time. We take a walk togeher on Sundays, but other days I run or cycle. And on Saturday nights, we set the table nicely, dress up and intersperse dinner with whatever theatrical offering the National Theatre have on this week. Sunday night is opera night, as we’ve been working through Opera North’s fabulous Ring Cycle.
Wednesday is shopping day as we’ve not been eligible for supermarket deliveries, which means I’ve discovered the splendid Wellocks at Home, and the equally splendid Sous Chef for ingredients.
I’ve learned to cook sous vide and I’ve improved my baking skills and Lynne’s been turning bolts of silk we brought back from Macau in 2001 into various items of clothing. We’re very busy!
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It’s a very good article, Peter. We were dependent on family members bringing in food at the beginning, this is after spending a lifetime’s money at Morrison’s (formerly Safeway up here) and Marks and Spencer’s, our default food shops, who don’t deliver in our area. We could get nothing from Tesco, Asda and Sainsbury’s (Sainsbury’s is quite far away), but what saved us in desperation was Iceland, and we both enjoy fish. We also now get our milk, juice and eggs delivered thrice weekly from a dairy, which was not available before – a lucky coincidence. We should have stuck with glass bottles. We have had the added pressure of both daughter and daughter in law working with Covid patients, and are very aware of what a horrible illness and death it can be. You describe the lethargy so well. I’m looking forward to your blog related to the link between folk music and progressive rock, so cast Groundhog Day away and get on with it. There I’ve even mentioned your favourite band! Many thanks, Peter.
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Peter, It reminds me of that song ‘Does Anybody Know What Time It Is?’ (Chicago, 1969). Only now it should be ‘Does Anybody Know What Day It Is?’
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