2020 - an undeniably odd year

 Well, 2020 isn't a year I'd want to repeat. I normally do a round up of highlights but when I first thought about it I couldn't think of what to include ... then I had a little think.

First of all, the year didn't start dreadfully. January, February, and the beginning of March were filled with lots of new and exciting things. At Nottingham Playhouse I saw Gecko Theatre and their particular brand of physical theatre,  

Ira Wolf

At the end of January my daughter was back here for a gig  in Nottingham with singer/songwriter Ira Wolf who'd come all the way from Nashville! 

Hopton snowdrops

February was about snowdrop hunting - at Kedleston, Hopton  and Walsingham - 

Salford Quays

on an overnight visit to my daughter in Manchester I visited Salford Quays,  Hall, and Lyme Park., and at the end of the month we all went to Norfolk for a weekend break (staying in a converted chapel). March brought daffodils at Shipley, a surprise trip to Nottingham Playhouse to see Moonlight and Magnolias, a last minute trip to Manchester, and, yes, lockdown.

The mere possibility of doing anything, let alone something new, seemed to go out the window, but even so I found unexpected things to do.

Streamed theatre on tv really impressed me. I never imagined this would replace real theatre but I'd definitely recommend it, and having one day a week with something 'special' happening took some of the tedium out of the first lockdown.

Kedleston 

As summer progressed I headed outdoors again, as safely as possible, mainly to places charging an entrance fee (the free-to-all beauty spots of the Peak District regularly made the news with photos of crowds). Even though I was limited to local places, I still found new areas to explore. At Calke I discovered the wider parkland, at Kedleston found walks beside the lakes, and through the Wilderness , and at Chatsworth gardeners were still working on a new area of planting, opening up an area which was previously just woodland and creating a series of flower-filled glades across the hillside. 

A particular delight was going back time after time (far more than in a 'normal' year) to these places and seeing the seasons change, from summer's heat to autumn's bright foliage, and rounding the year off with a trip to see Chatsworth's outdoor Christmas lights.

Online art at The Good Life
Experience

Over the months, as it become obvious that 'real life' events wouldn't be able to take place, a variety of festivals went digital. Yes, I sat and watched old footage from Glastonbury but I also called in at book festivals at Hay and Edinburgh, pretended I was in Fearnedock forest at Timber Fesitval, and (the big find of this year for me) joined in with art, cookery and inspiring talks at The Good Life Experience. This is a festival I have to go to one day. I don't feel quite comfortable yet about booking tickets for this year, but maybe another.

At home I've pottered round the garden, being more focused on growing vegetables than previous years. Rather oddly, as I haven't really being seeing anyone who might know me, I decided it was time to dump the dull black/navy clothes, pay a little bit more attention to what I wear and brighten my wardrobe. It's proved quite cheering picking out something red or purple to wear instead of sticking to the same old boring clothes. I've joined an online art group, but after being initially enthusiastic I rather let it drop in the run-up to Christmas (I'd better add 'make an effort' to my new year resolutions).

The best bits of this year have undoubtedly been the rare occasions it was possible to meet with family. It was easier to see my elder daughter, who lives relatively nearby, for a walk somewhere outside, but meeting up with the younger in Manchester was harder. In retrospect, I wish we'd been braver and arranged picnics somewhere in the countryside between here and there, but safe is better than sorry. 

It's definitely been an odd year, when time seems to have alternately stood still, and then galloped past. Here's hoping 2021 will  be better and brighter.

Six Months On ...

 Who would have thought back in March that we'd still be more or less under lockdown six months later? And, of course, now we seem to be moving back towards tighter restrictions rather than less.

Certainly there were hints about a second wave that would hit us in autumn but I'm not sure how many of us really paid attention to them. I feel if I'd really understood at the beginning how long this would go on for I would have panicked far more. It has definitely been the weirdest six months I've known - a bizarre mix of carrying on as normal and isolation.

 

 At the beginning of lockdown I thought I'd keep track of what I was doing week to week but as things returned to a sort of normal in June I let it slip. It didn't seem possible to let the six month mark pass without comment, though. Looking back on those early posts, I realise I was approaching things in a different manner then - treating the time a little bit like a holiday, but also obsessing over my storecupboard supplies.

Since then things have settled into a routine that honestly isn't far from how I'd normally spend my time. My garden has been brilliant for easing anxiety - whether sitting enjoying sun and flowers, or getting exercise digging and tending vegetables, there's a degree of mindfulness to gardening in whichever guise. My husband's spent a huge part of every day at the allotment, and the freezer is feeling the benefit with bags of tomatoes, cauliflower and beans. And at the same time, the various produce gluts have rekindled my interest in cooking - searching out or dreaming up ways to use an excess of cauliflower, cucumber or kale. 

I've discovered I like the quiet time this gives me. As I've always been a stay at home mum it's been rather like returning to earlier times when my husband was at work, and my daughters at school. I've pottered about, doing housework and gardening, tackled various sewing projects that had been abandoned, even started some new ones, and mostly used the peace and quiet for reflection and trying to work out what I'd like to do long-term in retirement (when restrictions ever lift).

I thought I'd miss going out more than I have, but online streaming has brought music, festivals, and theatre to my living room. In the first few weeks I watched a lot of musicians' online shows, but after a while the novelty of them died. I loved the wide range of productions streamed by the National Theatre, BBC in quarantine, and Globe TV, and I hope they'll bring this back in some form or other over winter (pay to view would be fine as obviously theatres can't keep going forever with no income). I've also been to a variety of festivals on-line - Front Room Festival from Folk on Foot, Hay and Edinburgh book festivals, Timber Festival, The Good Life Experience, and even caught up with some old highlights from Glastonbury. Being fairly well entertained at home, I certainly haven't been tempted to go out to pubs, restaurants or music venues; I'll leave that to younger, fitter folk who are at less risk.

Turns out though that it's six months since I went into a shop! That's almost unbelievable. Grocery shopping is done through a click and collect service, so a brief 'hello' and 'thank you' is all the contact I have with staff. Clothes (yes, despite my resolution to stop buying, some sale items have found their way here), and various bits and pieces that can't be found in supermarkets are bought online, or through delivery services from local shops. I feel like I could easily slip into becoming a recluse who never leaves the house!

To counter that I've been taking as many opportunities as I can to go out walking. Living near to the Peak District, a lot of places I might have visited have been busy, but local National Trust properties and Chatsworth gardens, maybe because they've had a book-ahead system for tickets, have been quieter, and excellent places to go for an afternoon out. Going back several times to some of these places, it's been lovely to see the season change, summer advance and autumn arrive. 

We've been lucky in that as a couple we're retired, so there's no need to worry about work or income, and as a family we have no older generations to worry about. On the downside, I've only seen eight people (including my husband) during this whole time. There are the supermarket guys, and the people to whom I say hi while out walking (at a safe distance) but they hardly count as people I've held conversations with. 

I wish I'd been able to see both daughters more, and, although video calls and silly online quizzes helped fill the gap, looking back sometimes I think we may have been more cautious than necessary. Luckily we had a big family meet up planned for the day before the 'rule of six' came in; the weather was sunny, we had lunch delivered, and sat in the sun while my grandson ran round and round. Who knows when we'll be able to do that again, but I'd rather be certain we all made it through to the other side of this (there will be an end - all things pass) than took chances now.

Moving forward, another six months of semi-isolation, especially falling over winter, doesn't look appealing. Time to make the most of the sunshine, some quiet mindfulness, and finding something to keep me busy.

Another Staycation Summer

After so many years of not being willing or able to take proper holidays, this year was going to be one of adventures - not round the world cruise style adventures, but a whole week, maybe even a fortnight, away from home, probably in Scotland. I was going to book some AirBnBs, then keep an eye on the weather, and if things looked good sling the tent in the car boot and extend our time away. 

Needless to say, things haven't worked out that way.

The year started well - an overnight trip to Manchester visiting my younger daughter, and a few nights in Norfolk at the end of February. But even then, people were worried about coronavirus, and talking about a lockdown. 

Since then, everything feels like it's been put on hold and I'm back to my standard staycation plans. By this I don't mean going to Cornwall or Scotland; that's a holiday for me. By 'staycation' I mean staying home, pottering round the garden, and just going out for day trips. 

I've done this before but this year is noticeably different. For starters, of course, there were so many weeks through Spring when we just weren't allowed to go anywhere. Then, as restrictions were gradually lifted, I wasn't too sure about going out to places that might be crowded - I live too far from the seaside to nip there for an afternoon, but I've seen many photos of local beauty spots as busy as south coast beaches. So we stuck to local places which we know have wide footpaths, excellent for social distancing. Then, when the first rush for tickets died down, we visited local National Trust properties - Calke, Kedleston, Hardwick and, a little further afield, Belton - and privately-owned Chatsworth. Their gardens and parks have proved invaluable for getting outside and taking exercise, and I'm now trying to work two days out each week into my diary. It's not like I really have that much else happening. 

One thing I have missed this year is going to festivals. I'd had tickets booked for a small folk festival, Tangled Roots, and had hoped to be able to visit Timber 'forest' festival and Hay and Edinburgh book festivals. Fortunately most have put a mix of old and new content out online, so it's possible to pretend I've been.

Better safe than sorry has been my motto throughout this whole crisis - going into lockdown earlier than the government insisted, doing all shopping by mail order or click and collect, not eating out but sticking to the occasional takeaway - and so for now, and quite a while to come, I'll stick to the sort of place where I can walk quietly, away from crowds.

I'm still hoping there might be chance of an autumn getaway - to an isolated moorland cottage, or a cabin deep in a forest, somewhere new to walk and take in different views - but if that doesn't happen, I'll survive.

Lockdown - week 10: 26th May - 1st June

Another week staying in, keeping clear of everyone, with days slipping into each other. It's been hot and sunny but I've resisted the temptation to go dashing off to the seaside - to be honest the thought of all the other folks heading there is off-putting.

Instead I've sat in the garden, watched the birds splashing in their bath, planted out the last of the beans and tomatoes, and watched things grow.  

I've made time to finish a skirt project which has been sitting around for years, and took a short walk to pick elderflowers for fizz.

This week I've made an effort to cut back on my jigsaw obsession. The number of pieces in an online jigsaw is limited - 300 pieces - and I know they take a little less than an hour. Trying to cut that time turns a restful pursuit into a race, and stops it having any resemblance to mindfulness.

I've spent a lot of time watching live events from Hay Festival via Crowdcast (so many I've given them a whole post  of their own).

I caught this week's National Theatre Live; This House - the story of the beleaguered Labour Government of the mid70s, shown of the point of view of the Whip's offices. It was funny and interesting but I spent a lot of time trying to remember who was who from the politics of that era. 

The week's ended with the loosening of a lot of the lockdown restrictions - 6 people can now meet up outside so long as they maintain 2m distance. This means we can plan to see one daughter and grandson (before he heads back to nursery) but it's still not feasible to visit the other. Hopefully we'll be able to catch up as a family soon.

A week at Hay Festival Digital

I'd been hoping that this year, after a long break, I could visit Hay Festival again. I've been several times before; generally stopping off for a day on the way to or from a half-term holiday in Pembrokeshire, and had vaguely being thinking about going this year, staying in the tent, taking a bit more time to explore the town and surrounding countryside as well as catch some book events.

All year round this small English/Welsh border town is home to dozens of bookshops, but for a week or two at the end of May it plays host to a huge literary gathering. It's what I call a 'proper' book festival - lots of variously-sized tents/marquees for events, shops, food and drink, all gathered in one area. There's no need to buy a ticket - entry to this tented village is free, so you can wonder in and browse the stalls, grab a deckchair and try to spot the celebrities, but obviously going along to hear your favourite author talk about their latest book is the real draw. There's something for everyone from (almost) the smallest toddler to their great great grandma, from comedy to serious thought provoking discussions on the world's and humankind's problems; there are artists and musicians; and everywhere you'll find books. 

My plans came to nothing though, with Hay and similar events having to be cancelled due to corona virus. Fortunately Hay's organisers decided to try this as an opportunity, rather than a disaster, and made the decision to go digital. It's been nothing like the size and scope the actual event would have been, but every day has been filled with interesting talks and discussions. 

I've listened to Maggie O'Farrell talking about Shakespeare, plague and grief with relation to her latest novel Hamnet; watched Jackie Morris, illustrator of The Lost Words, paint and gild a picture of a hare from her studio in Pembrokeshire; increased my knowledge of Chinese history and culture with Michael Wood; revisited the Tudor world with Hilary Mantel, this time from the perspective of Thomas Cromwell and the politics of Henry VIII's court; discovered The Art of Rest with Claudia Hammond; and taken a trip to a taverna on the Greek island of Hydra for music, poetry and to hear about Polly Samson's novel based round the lives of a writers' colony there in the early 60s.

It's been a busy sort of time. I've definitely seen more than if I'd actually been to Hay, though I didn't get to wander down by the river or up in the surrounding mountains.

Lockdown Week 9 - 19th - 25th May

Well, this was the most up-and-down week so far!


I started the week in a positive mood but Wednesday was gloriously sunny - so much so that I sat outside for lunch, then inside but by the window in the afternoon, and got too much sun. As a result, I spent Thursday feeling 'off' and dizzy, and then that night my sleep was disrupted by rain (very welcome), foxes arguing in the street, and then husband's snoring. Argh. I'd just about got back to my normal self when Dominic Cummings' antics took over the media. Seeing people talking online about how they'd stayed home instead of dashing to the sides of their loved ones who were lonely, ill, even dying, while a government adviser did whatever he liked was heartbreaking. I wasn't ever a government supporter but if they could have dropped further in my opinion they just did. I don't suppose they care much though.

Fortunately there were good things this week too.

On Wednesday, I caught a re-working of Ibsen's A Doll's House, from The Lyric  Theatre, Hammersmith with the setting moved to late 1870s Calcutta. Torvald (now Tom) and Dr Rank being British officials, Nora (Niru) and the other characters being Indians. First performed last year, the film had been made solely for the archives, its production values weren't as good as those of specially recorded plays but maybe it was nearer to the actual experience I'd get in a slightly cheaper seat in a real-life theatre.
And Friday night I saw this week's National Theatre Live's offering A Streetcar Named Desire performed at the Young Vic, and starring Gillian Anderson as Blanche. I thought it was brilliant; my husband complained about the rotating set.

This week also saw the start of HayDigital - a way to bring some of the events scheduled for this year's Hay Festival to us all at home. So far I've dropped in to hear Maggie O'Farrell talk about Shakespeare, plague and grief, the inspirations for her latest novel Hamnet, and I've signed up for more later this week.

Monday brought a good ending to the week (despite political goings-on) with a second Folk on Foot Frontroom Festival. I turned in to see Frank Turner and his wife perform but found a lot of new music to delight me - The Unthanks, Kate Rusby,  Johnny Flynn, Richard Thompson, and Eliza Carthy. An excellent way to spend a Bank Holiday (better than crowding a beach somewhere) and round off the week.

Good Memories of 2015 ....

Last year ended, this year began, on a downbeat with one parent in hospital and the other having to go into respite care, with the days blurring into one long round of visiting first one, then the other, so it seems more important than usual to look back at the highlights and good times of the past year....

Lymington

Of all the times we went away last year, to Machynlleth, Hay-on-Wye, St Davids, North Norfolk, and Edinburgh, the one that stands out was the first - an overnight trip to the New Forest. There's a school of thought that says doing something or going somewhere for the first time has more impact than re-visiting the same old stuff again and again, and I think this applies here - all the other places were ones we've frequently visited whereas I last visited the New Forest over 20 years ago.

 In two days we visited Southampton, Portsmouth, star-gazed near Mudeford under a sky so dark we couldn't see the sea, went back to the sea the next morning near Milford on Sea, walked round the quaint seaside town of Lymington and spotted the famous New Forest ponies. And the glorious sunshine and blue skies weren't in summer, but January! The sea breeze was bracing at times but for a winter weekend the weather could hardly have been better.

Summer brought several reasons to celebrate - my youngest daughter turned 18, achieved the A level grades she needed for her first choice of university, and passed her driving test! On the downside, of course, she left home but although the place isn't quite the same without her, she has been back frequently with her new venture promoting music gigs.

There's been quite a musical thread running through this year - first at Hay Book Festival, at an evening event listening to Tiffany Murray and David Mitchell read from their books while fireworks exploded over the town and Frank Turner's singing drifted over from another tent. The most enchanting, magical feel ever to a book event!

Then, in Edinburgh in late August, by pure chance we walked past Princes Street Gardens while The Waterboys were playing on the outdoor stage. We couldn't really see them but listening to them play, watching the impromptu crowd who like us stopped to listen, or even join in, against a backdrop of the illuminated castle, with fireworks from the Tattoo lighting the sky, was something really special, particularly as totally unexpected.


And in Autumn there was more music! Going along to watch the gigs put on by my daughter turned out to be much more fun than I could ever have imagined. The venue is small, the musicians aren't huge stars and sometimes the noise proved too much for my eardrums, but it's something totally out of my normal rut and I've loved it. The last event of the year was extra special as my daughter decided it was time to perform herself and although I'm heard her play at home, to see her sing in front of a crowd was something special.



In between fall small, sharp memories - of the hot foot-burning beach at Whitesands -

the early morning peace and quiet at our self-catering cottage, looking over Hailes castle and Trapain Law, before heading into the bustle of Edinburgh for the day





and the mix of awe and fear watching my daughter take flight in a hot air balloon


I'm glad to have something good to remember the year by, instead of just the chaos that's broken loose at the end of it.