With large sections of society going into ‘social-isolation’, one Lichfield resident lifts the lid on her thoughts in the latest of a series of diary posts on the coronavirus outbreak.
The secret, my son tells me, is to get up very early in the morning or in the middle of the night, when the online world is quieter and a home delivery slot’s easier to find.
So another D-day is due and the fridge is still half-full – but I’ve inherited the ‘waste not, want not’ gene and it’s turned on high these days.
It’s not exactly quarantine cuisine, but left-overs like veg or pasta find themselves in a rather basic soup. Healthy enough, but I’m more coffee-dependent than before and too often turn to the ultimate comfort food.
For some it’s chocolate or crumpets, for me it’s mashed potato – and if I’m not to assume the shape of a spud myself, I’ve got to get moving.
So, inspired by Captain Tom, a keep-fit plan is now in place. Which is a brisk trot down to the bottom of the garden and back, 10 times, once or twice a day, unless it’s raining.
The trouble is, when I start noticing weeds on the way or the odd butterfly on a bush, the trot becomes more of an amble.
My relentlessly positive friend, the sunbeam, is sure they’ll let us out soon, ‘for good behaviour’, but it’s five weeks today since I closed the front door on normal life and there’s no end to the lock-down in sight, at least for high-risk groups.
I thought every country on the continent had taken similar steps, but googling the subject took me to Belarus, where the last dictator in Europe has his own solutions to the pandemic problem.
Not social distancing or staying at home, but vodka, saunas, ice-hockey and hard labour on the land.
The answer may lie in the soil in the end – a vaccine derived from nature – but the man clearly needs his bumps felt.
Tessa also writes on www.pensionista.co.uk – an adventurous take on much later life.
