One Year

A year ago, we had been watching the news very carefully and considering how best to respond, on a personal level, to the incoming threat of a new virus that was killing people on the continent. And a year ago, we took the decision to shield and protect ourselves as best we could. A year ago, on Monday 16 March, we buckled ourselves in for the ride.

I don’t suppose many of us could have imagined or predicted the ride we’ve had and how the runaway train would continue. In fact, one of my friends chuckled down the phone to me at the time, and said, “We’ll laugh about this in a couple of weeks, won’t we?” I think she thought I was mad when I said I thought it might go on for a year, or even eighteen months. Yet here we are, 365 days later, still gorging on chocolate, still downing gallons of wine and tuning into mind-numbing TV in an attempt to stifle the sense of longing to be out and about.

Despite the introduction of the vaccine, there is still no end in sight for us. John continues to be among the vulnerable, even though he’s having treatment to boost his immune system every three weeks. So we battle on, ever hopeful and finding happiness where we can.

John, however, is still in hospital undergoing still more tests with more and more medics scratching their heads. It is possible, of course, that John has had a low-grade infection that has taken him off his feet and snatched his breath away, and as time goes on it may heal itself. I am hoping so anyway. I suppose they will get fed up of trying to find anything soon and just send him home with a ‘see how you go’ note.

For me, it’s been a day of waiting. First thing, I took the car into the garage for its service. Peter very kindly collected me and brought me home, and then we waited. “I’ll phone you when they tell me it’s ready,” I said to Peter, “They said it’ll probably be just after lunch.”

I don’t know what time you finish your lunch, folks, but by almost three o’clock I was beginning to wonder when I’d be getting the phone call. In the end, I phoned the garage. “Oh, it’s ready,” said the receptionist breezily, “I’ve just got to do the paperwork.” Harumph.

I was also waiting for a phone call from Mum’s podiatrist. Last time she was tended to was in October 2020, so it’s getting a bit desperate now. When I phoned for an appointment last week, the administrator said, “We can’t just book an appointment now, you know. Every case has to be triaged first on the telephone.” Ah…. and so today I was waiting…. and the podiatrist phoned about half past two. I got excited thinking it was the garage, of course. Nope, it was the triage call, which consisted of me saying my Mum needed her feet doing and the podiatrist saying, “I believe you. Right, I’ll come tomorrow,”

I nipped up to Homebase this afternoon, once I’d collected the car, to pick up a pot of paint. I thought I might give the new utility room a once over. There were very few staff on duty, and it was looking very sorry for itself. I wonder how long that business is going to last?

Once home, I suddenly went very flat and found it difficult to drag myself around to do anything of note. I did manage to get a little walk in, but I didn’t go far. I managed a wander round the garden, but I felt listless. I cooked something to eat, but wasn’t really looking forward to it. So, this evening I did that thing of plugging myself into the TV and ignoring any jobs that needed doing. The kitchen is still a bit of mess from cooking. Ah, well, maybe tidy up tomorrow?

And on the waiting theme…. it feels like we’ve been waiting for a year. Waiting for lockdown to end; waiting for hugs to be re-instated; waiting for a Sunday lunch with the family; waiting for a birthday party – we’ve had a 70th birthday and a 40th birthday go by without a gathering – and so on.

I realise, naturally, that our lives have changed for ever, and we have to stop waiting. But I can’t help but look over my shoulder at the way we used to live our lives, and want some of the same again. Those spontaneous outings to the pub; the family dropping in for a barbecue; a visit to the cinema or the theatre; our annual trip to Ragdale Hall. Yes, please – I’d like a bit of that again.

It may be possible to enjoy some of those things again, if the incidence of COVID continues to fall. Fingers crossed.

• 5,294 people tested positive for the virus today
• 110 people died in the community with the virus in the last 24 hours
• 36 people died in hospitals with the virus on 14 & 15 March
• It’s Day 357 since the original, official lockdown in March last year.

And, for your delectation and commentary on current affairs, the word of the day (courtesy of Susie Dent) is ‘throttlebottom‘: a bumbling, inept individual in public office. So named after Alexander Throttlebottom, a character in the 20th-century musical comedy ‘Of Thee I Sing’.

Take care everyone. God bless. I leave you with this reminder from Charlie Mackesy. What would we do without his wonderful take on the world, eh?