For the squeamish among you, look away now – and move on to paragraph 2. For those not so squeamish, read on…..
A couple of weeks ago I spent the morning tidying Mum up and, in the absence of a chiropodist, one of the things I did was to sort out her feet. Along with the idea of having Mum to live with us, this was one on the list of ‘things I never want to do’. And today, it was another round of tending her feet. Though it’s a reminder of how humble and kind we need to be during these difficult times, it’s now on the list of things that ‘I wish I didn’t have to do’.
Other than the things we all wish we didn’t have to do, there are things we like doing. So, my thing today was my own pampering, thank you very much, and I feel a bit better now. John’s thing was baking. I am not ‘a pudding person’, as many of you know, so it’s always with reluctance that I cook anything sweet. John is the opposite and has railed against his misfortune of being ‘pudding-less’ for years. However, with the enforced ‘stay at home’, he can now come into his own and bake! So he is, and today he did. He’s like a pig in clover just now as he’s got a stash of paleo desserts: chocolate mousses x 4; a large blueberry muffin cake; a loaf of ‘bread’ and, awaiting the final flourish tomorrow, a rich fruit cake.
Later on, after our meal this evening, we adjourned to the lounge. “Do you want to watch TV, Mum?” “Yes, please.” What would you like to watch?” “Anything.” It was Panorama. With half an ear on the programme and a full eye on my phone and social media, Mum told me, pointedly, that the programme was very interesting. Good, I said. Two minutes later, she asked me if I was watching the programme. I said yes. Two minutes after that, she told me I certainly wasn’t watching the programme and whatever was I doing glued to my phone? Despite being a year or two from the age of 70, I felt like a guilty teenager. Yikes!!
In the end, we didn’t watch TV after all. I suggested that Mum choose some of her poems to read to us while I did the ironing. She was happy, I was happy, and John, snoozing the corner bless him, was happy. And that way, we passed a pleasant evening.
I may not have been watching but I was certainly aware of Panorama and the fears and anxieties voiced by those being interviewed. It’s not just the disabled who are fearful of how this pandemic is going to pan out. With the promise of ‘it’s going to get worse before it gets better’, and NHS staff acknowledging that they are not going to be able to cope as the numbers needing hospitalisation and intensive care beds rise, many are beginning to run on fear and adrenaline now.
Of the people who have been tested, 51,608 are infected, including the Prime Minister who is intensive care this evening; and of those hospitalised, there have been 5,373 deaths – a figure that doesn’t include those people who are dying in the community.
And, with the shock of a break-in at our own village farm shop, Oakes’, overnight, we realise that crime, although it’s less than before the ‘stay-at-home’ order, doesn’t go away even at times like this.
So where does this leave us? Well, there’s always hope isn’t there? And, of course, Mum’s poetry to enjoy when the going gets tough.