So how was this past week for you? Can you even remember?
I planned to write one Covid journal entry per week, but, as everything feels like too much work at the moment, and I barely know what month it is, they will probably get more infrequent.
This week, my (paid) work stepped up, so I was surprisingly busy. I didn’t mind at all, in fact it felt affirming to be needed. I did spend less time focused on homeschooling; but as my kids’ teachers are so good with sending regular work through, that didn’t really matter.
Connor and Bethany still have great attitudes to self-directed learning, but as the isolation weeks drag on, we are all struggling to get up and ready in the morning. Not that it matters.
Highlights include the kids spending hours digging and getting a patch of soil ready for planting (they have planted radishes, and I hope to get some dwarf French beans and spinach to grow too); letting the guinea-pigs have a run and as much fresh grass as they can eat; and painting pebbles rainbow colours, to say thank you to NHS and key workers. Mike shaved all of his hair off, to stop having to cut it so often. It’s already growing back.
In the news, the PM Boris Johnson is still in hospital with the virus; Matt Hancock threatens us with a ban on any outdoor exercise (please, no!); and the Queen delivers a kind and wise speech, thereby uniting the nation while confusing us all as to why it’s so warm and there aren’t any mince pies.
Bethany often sees an old dog on our daily walks: we have done for months (on warm/ dry days), but seeing a regular friendly face outside the home feels special during this current unprecedented national event. The poor old girl always wags her tail and loves our attention (the dog, not Bethany), but most of the time she is too tired to stand and greet us.
It is my 5th cancerversary next week, on the 15th. Usually it is a big date in my calendar but so much has happened in our lives since then, that it doesn’t feel that huge now. Still, it’s important for me to mark the date. My world tilted on its axis when got the diagnosis, and it has never gone back to the way things were beforehand. It’s fabulous that I am here to mark the occasion, but of course there are no guarantees that I will be here for the 10th anniversary.
Many people will find that after this virus has finally gone: they won’t be the same as they were. Something has changed forever for all of us now. Many will feel more resilient, many weaker, some broken. Some will want to forget and move swiftly on, others will never forget.
I think that the best thing we can do is to be kind: to ourselves and others. If you have an elderly or vulnerable friend or family member, please call or write to them regularly so that they don’t feel forgotten. It’s such a simple thing to do.
It’s the Easter holidays now, so there is no whiff of a routine. We will do an Easter egg hunt though. Some things are too important to forget about.
PS: why are people still buying so much flour?