Covid-19 – Week three: beginning 23/03/2020
As a new working week dawns, the north east sighs. And well the rest of the country who are not as posh as they make out. For this day McDonalds serve their last UK customer, Primark close their doors and soaps like Coronation street and Emmerdale stop filming. The north east is doomed. No not literally! But junk food, cheap fashion and telly might never be the… But honestly, we have bigger worries. So, we might lose a few pounds, find a new take out restaurant, or discover the kitchen. So what if we can’t keep up with the latest fashion? We can upcycle our wardrobes or just create a new fashion trend. And well with so many channels out there, and a range of streaming tv and movie apps, I think we’ll all have plenty of box sets to get through. Melodramatics over, things aren’t so bad, they are simply different. Now anyone for a Big Mac?
Yet a Big Mac will be the last thing on parents minds this morning as the first week of home-schooling dawns. Poor parents, poor working parents, balancing 9-5 hours hopefully with some flexibility on hours, while they educate and care for their children 24/7. I think I should start by saying I take my hat off to them. As a past educator I can empathise that teaching is an art and not for everyone. Exciting, exhausting, extraordinary, it is such a whirlwind of emotions. But no need for me to go on, for every parent out there will know or very soon know, more than ever it is forever rewarding.
To this day, I treasure the little things: the 14 year old student that surprised himself when he could finally rote count past five; the eight year old student that started to voice her needs instead of using violence; the 16 year old student that struggled with reading but jumped for joy when she passed her English qualification. Now I know these are extremes, so let’s look at the everyday, the part that makes learning really happen. If you haven’t already seen it, it’s engagement, the desire to learn, the craving for knowledge, the inquisitive nature that many of us lost long ago. So, to any parent out there if your child is having fun, it’s a job well done. If they start engaging in activities, asking questions and in teacher talk if ‘nobody dies’ although that phrase seems less appropriate during a pandemic, you are doing a smashing job. Therefore, continue to do what you are doing. Make a fruit salad or pizza from scratch, you’ll be developing skills covering more subjects across the curriculum than you think: social skills, technology, science, geography, english, maths…need I go on. PS. It will soon be Fri-yay!
As Tuesday unfolds, working from home is becoming normal for me, I am adapting to the new normal and Lady (the dog who is now back home with me 24/7) and I are loving getting out before work, at lunch and after work. A new routine is being forged, with big smiles and waggy tails. Until –
I think I should start by saying with the labyrinth we are navigating, it’s a bad time to be prime minister. That’s what I said during the Brexit debate, but these times are just unprecedented. A non-war national emergency, this invisible killer really has brought around extraordinary times, well that got negative quickly. Poor Boris, he started the announcement to the nation looking tired and un-smiley, and I thought Theresa May had it bad. But things are only set to get worse and he is doing his best – isn’t he? Never have I seen policies rushed through in days that would normally take months or years. Policies to help financially support a workforce that cannot work, a health service in need of supplies and in general keep a country in crisis going. The aftermath will inevitably be to manage the Covid-19 recession. Will the economy ever recover?
Back to the announcement – as we sit watching the press briefing, I rather think nothing sounds ridiculous anymore…so when the new policy is announced to ‘stay home stay safe’, I just acknowledge it, at least it isn’t jumping jacks: just the end of proud liberal democracy. In summary avoid all non-essential social contact, leave the house once a day for exercise – lets whisper the last one to Lady, and shop only for essentials. Well there goes my new routine. Looks like tomorrow we start again, with one extra-long walk from me and another by my Fiancé: anyone up for explaining that to Lady? How are dogs meant to get Covid-19 is going to mean a change of lifestyle for them too?
Now I am not bold, mental, or lost enough to say that this is going to be anything like Anne Frank’s diary. Many people are feeling trapped in their homes, resources feel in short supply and the situation is the continue for an unknown length of time.
But the reality and differences are helpful: well to start, we are not being forced to hide in cramped conditions from fear of persecution or execution; nor are we sneaking around and surviving on the good will of others for basic supplies. There is a policy from the government to support everyone to get supplies if they are self-isolating. Although some people are being advised to self-isolate in their homes, they are free to move around, watch tv, connect with loved ones over the internet or phone and supplies can be delivered. Rewind – the internet is a huge development that enables people to stay better connected, and via video, people can feel close to their loved ones during this time.
Another positive, we can all take a deep breath and stop worrying about the state of our homes. Just decide now on the one designated video calling place and the rest can stay cluttered, un-hoovered, dusty, and well hairy – I have a dog lol. How can we? Well no judgemental eyes will know any differently. Ahh a break from house chores that’s what Boris meant. Thank goodness as I had thought he had told me to stay in the house until he decides I am not grounded anymore.
During this world health crisis, things feel uncontrollable and it’s hard to see an end to it. Yet the only thing we can truly control is our actions. SO, WHAT CAN WE DO? Well remain calm is a good start.
I joke to my fiancé that I’d always wanted a garden and my partner in crime played along.
“Well darling, I could buy some topsoil at the supermarket and if we plant you now, we might have a garden by the end of the pandemic.”
Well at least he hasn’t lost his sense of humour and as I chuckle along, I know things are going to be okay.
Yet as I wake, realisation that the way we live our lives is profoundly changing, for the better? The sun is shining, and I get a wash out on the line for the first time this year. There is something peaceful, relaxing, and surreal in the experience of standing watching our bedding blowing in the breeze. What a lovely productive start to the day, the bed doesn’t normally get a wash until the weekend, yet here we are on hump day, maybe the new weekend? That is a dangerous thought. If it was the weekend what would I be getting up to? Treat foods, alcohol, or movies. Where would I go? Who would I see?
If only, but there are lots of things we have all had to change. Lady has had to accept a maximum of two walks a day, as my partner and I try to both take her out under new measures. But this isn’t enough, Lady is literally jumping off the walls. So we make some changes. Step one, I move Lady into the office, purchasing her another bed, bringing her total to three beds excluding ours that she sprawls herself across regularly in the mid-afternoon sun. Step two, start and end our day with play time, including her favourite games: hide and seek a toy, fetch in the backyard and smothering her with attention. Step three, make time for a ‘weekend walk’ every day! Make it fast paced, different and allow for time to fetch the ball over long distances.
Now in theory this all sounds very do-able, however, if the groans, grumps, and gulps of water are anything to go by, this is going to take some tweaking. I feel bad for telling the dog off for hassling me for what, changing let’s face it over five years now, has been her daily routine.
When we do venture out once a day, our outings have proved interesting. I am definitely present in the moment, watching for oncoming pedestrians and canines, crossing the road to avoid contact. Lady is very amenable and has been going along with the new regime. I try not to get frustrated at her when she pulls towards people or dogs we can’t greet anymore. I am trying to get clever, creating a route to walk past several fields to allow Lady a chance to follow the social distancing rule. I used to think a field with only two other dogs on was unheard of on a morning, but all it took was the government to tell people to ‘stay home and stay safe’ to clear the streets and fields.
Today, when we embrace the outdoors, the longer walk idea becomes further and further from my mind as my nose becomes further and further bunged up. Yes, you guessed it, welcome to spring and ‘hay fever season’. I never suffered as a child, but as I have gotten into my 20s it has welcomed me into adulthood with a runny nose, dry itchy eyes and a sneeze, that in the current climate makes people social distance more (if that’s even possible, two meters is a lot you know).
This week, Lady and I have started the Couch to 5K, good for four pawed and two footed mammals alike. As I joke, well try to suggest, to work colleagues that we could all get fitter, the idea is rejected on all counts. I want to share my new lifestyle. But even I have to admit over the last few weeks Lady, and I were getting a tan from the fridge light. It is at this point I realise my positivity to life is going to be put through its paces.
Nonetheless, I am proud of Lady and myself for our motivation. Running, okay it is more like gentle jogging and walking through the cemetery, having only just started this week. But we are doing it with smiles on our faces, as Lady looks up at me with puppy dog eyes and a beautiful grin. It is hard to escape thoughts of it all – hay fever that is. It begins with an itchy face, a tickly throat and then a runny nose. I must sound great, thank goodness for social distancing to keep people from noticing how unfit I feel right now. But it is giving structure to Lady and my outings.
Thursday brings a new national weekly tradition, cheer for the NHS and Carers, a cheer for front-line workers who are putting themselves at risk during the pandemic. So, tonight communities have come together from their doorsteps with cheers, claps and the clattering of pots and pans in thanks. It’s also one way to meet neighbours, some I’ve never met due to our busy lifestyles.
As the working week draws to a close, I avoid turning on the corona news. We cannot turn the television, radio, or follow any social media without seeing it everywhere. But there are positives, people are rallying together, and I am ready to embrace a new type of weekend. Then a bulletin pops up on my phone and I am dragged back into it all. Damn 21st century technology, it makes it impossible to avoid unless you turn everything off and you guessed it, my phone is the culprit.
Oh Boris, what you going to do now? It was inevitable though, run down and surrounded by a range of people. Covid-19 has entered number 10. Now what? Anyone up for the job? Only joking and who would be mad enough? Boris is fighting on and even making a few video calls himself.
As I welcomed the weekend, I couldn’t help feeling like this is a non-weekend. No more restaurants, pubs, clubs, cinemas, gyms, leisure facilities, museums, hair, and beauty salons or… who am I kidding? These are treats a few months off won’t kill us. Determined not to waste the weekend or our upcoming holiday time from work, we decide to prepare to decorate the house. A few strips of paint on the walls later, we were prepared for our DIY holiday.
This weekend also brought our first social distancing cake meeting. My parents are currently self-isolating as my Mam has underlying health conditions and has been experiencing some associated symptoms of Covid-19. But regardless of this fact, it is now the norm to keep your distance from people you are not living with. Dropping supplies off is manageable within these rules. Dad works the mechanical gate with a switch, we place the box on the table in the backyard ready for them to collect. They have a back door that has two halves, so they are able to see half of us. Or rather we can see half of them. I am glad to report them in good spirits and no that isn’t down to the bottles we delivered. However, we did help them restock to get through the next week with essentials of bread, milk, eggs, meat, veg and some flowers to try to raise my Mam’s spirits.
From our two meter separation, we talk about the past, the future and some of the present. We talk about 2021, a new, new year and the possibility of having the immediate family all together, quite a feat even out of current climate: my brother, nephew and my soon to pop sister in-law live in Lancaster, while my sister and husband live in Northern Ireland. But the thought that we could be like this until Christmas is not one I want to entertain right now. Yet as bad as things seem this is no war time experience and we should remember some older people alive today lived through it. Rationing, nothing like the limits some shops have placed on items in short supply: toilet rolls, pasta, or tins. Whereas a typical weekly ration for an adult during World War Two consisted of: 4oz bacon & ham, other meat to the equivalent of 2 chops or the value of 1 shilling and 2 pence, 2oz butter, 2oz cheese, 4oz margarine, 4 oz cooking fat, 3 pints milk, 8 oz sugar, 1lb preserves every 2 months, 2oz tea, 1 fresh egg (plus allowance of dried egg), 12 oz sweets every 4 weeks. I have more eggs than that a day! We have it better than we think, we can still get most products, in quantities we want, even those from around the world. So, what is a little wait in the grand scheme of things?
Anyway, back to the madhouse meeting. Laughter is flowing, memories are floating, and future plans are being forged. It is the best day I have had in weeks. No physical contact needed. This is something else, something truly magical that I will cling onto and cherish all week.
Just seeing, but it is more than that. Being there and experiencing my parents smiling and chatting from the kitchen, while we sit in the backyard. The only one not smiling or having a good time is Lady. She is rather anxious, crying, jumping up and becoming more like a dalmatian by the minute. I don’t mean training wise, as that is offensive to dalmatians. Lady is still following commands, sit, around (going around our legs), and giving high fives for a treat. But rather in dandruff, she is moulting while crying to get into the house. If only I could help her understand, but the thought of ever teaching the dog English would be far-fetched. And she does fetch well.
