Lockdown - Week 3: 7th - 13th April

Well, to be honest, this third week feels like it was almost indistinguishable from the second. Days and weeks are certainly starting to blur into each other, despite my best effort to recreate normal life.


I went 'out' to the theatre twice - first to The Globe to see Hamlet; a very interesting, compelling 'gender blind' production with various male characters played by women (including Michelle Terry as Hamlet himself), and Ophelia played by a man (Shubham Saraf). It's hard to make such a well-known script come over as new and fresh but this production did - and James Garnon almost made me feel sorry for Claudius. I wish I'd been able to see it live.
 A couple of nights later was a National Theatre Live recording of Jane Eyre, a co-production with Bristol Old Vic, starring Madeleine Worrall as the diminutive, feisty heroine, Felix Hayes as brooding Mr Rochester, and directed by Sally Cookson. I'm not generally a fan of books turned into plays, but this worked brilliantly - not trying to cram every bit of dialogue from the original in, but aiming more for mood and character development. Oh, and I loved Pilot the dog - the actor playing him almost stole the show.

In between these two, I went to an Isolate Live gig to see one of my long-live favorite singer/songwriters Sean McGowan performing live from his 'gaff' (well, his mum's front room), and on Easter Monday I went to a festival - not out in a tent in the back garden as I know some people did, but a sensible Front Room Festival organised by Folk On Foot presenter Matthew Bannister, featuring a mix of familiar and new (to me at least) folk singers. As at any festival I dropped in and out of the music tent, and I have to admit I left before the end but really enjoyed watching Beth Porter from the Bookshop Band, Nancy Kerr and James Fagan, Kris Drever, Rachel Newton playing the harp, and Jackie Morris paintings otters.

Apart from these 'evenings out' day to day life doesn't feel like it's changed that much. I finished knitting a scarf made with some fabulous rainbow yarn brought back from a trip to Riga by my youngest daughter.




I went out for a short walk one evening to see the sunset - but this time I encountered cyclists riding too close to the pavement, so there's another worry for when I'm out and about.










The weather has returned to glorious sunshine, and most of my days are spent pottering about the garden doing something or other.


Sowing seeds, watering tiny plants, tucking them up under bubblewrap at night, all with the intent of producing home-grown vegetables, makes me feel I'm clawing back a certain level of control over my life. I feel fresh fruit and veg may be hard to come by as spring progresses, and I'm targeting my sowing at producing crops as soon as possible. I already have rocket and mizuna for salad, and rhubarb for desserts; there'll be more to follow.



Obviously I haven't seen my family but we're keeping in touch with an almost daily video chat, often involving a lot of running around from my grandson, and a quieter pictionary style online game at weekends. There still seems to be as much traffic as ever out on the nearby main through-estate road, so at times it's hard to believe in the virus and that the world has changed.

I never expected three weeks to be the end of lockdown, and I've braced myself to follow the twelve week isolation period recommended to 'shielded' vulnerable people; I've no need to be as restricted as them but 'better safe than sorry' is my motto for now.

Lockdown - week 2

Week 2 started cold, dull and lethargic. Partly the weather's fault, partly the clock going forward last weekend. I've no need to be anywhere at 9 or 10 in the morning so instead of adapting to the new setting I just amble along on the old one, getting up an hour late, going to sleep an hour later.


With the weather returning to 'normal' there was less temptation to be outside pottering round the greenhouse and garden. With cold overnight temperatures forecast, the conveyor belt system whereby seedlings start inside, go to the greenhouse, and eventually to the garden or allotment was stalled waiting for more warmth. Over the last weekend the sun returned, and since then I've been busy outside doing something or other every day - I've planted out some mizuna and cabbages, and the tulips have started to flower. Everything looks better when the sun shines.

After my walk to the wood last week, I've decided to stcik to the garden and not go out. It feels too risky. When the weather's nice I have plenty to occupy and exercise me here, or I can just sit in the sun. I'd rather do that than dodge the rest of the neighbourhood out for a walk.




I have managed to go out virtually though - a couple more Isolate Live shows, S T Manville and Frank Turner one evening, and Thom Worth and Tankus the Henge (the latter direct from beside a canal boat, which must be a quite fun place to be stuck for lockdown) - and for my birthday John Allen (left) livestreaming music from his home in Germany, followed by an evening trip to the (virtual) theatre.






I've noticed I'm becoming more lenient with myself over things I'd resolved to do, or not. Now does not seem to be the time to worry about eating too much - and when a neighbour brought chocolates for my birthday I ate them all in hardly any time at all. My birthday cake got eaten in one evening. Another (on another day) got eaten straight away too. It might, if you were being kind, be possible to blame sunshine and all the garden-digging for making me hungry, but I seem to have no willpower when it comes to eating 'treats'. I need to kick this habit before it becomes ingrained, and I put on a ton of weight during lockdown.
I've also broken my 'no new clothes' resolution. I saw some colourful trousers in a sale, and, yep, I bought them (arguing that they were a birthday present). They're bright and flowery, and were very cheap, but ... but ... but ... I feel like I'm acting too much on impulse, and not considering things enough. Is this some weird side-effect of lockdown and isolation?

Lockdown - Week 1 - busy, busy, busy

How did your first week of lockdown go? Mine, to be honest, felt rather like a normal week, but with less shape to it than normal.


We'd been staying home for a while already, but obviously not enough people were, so last Tuesday advice became orders, and everyone apart from essential workers was supposed to stay in. Strange then to wake up the first morning of lockdown and hear normal traffic on the nearby main road through our estate; if anything, throughout the day, it got heavier. And so many people were out walking, taking their allowed hour of exercise.

The first few days were warm, and I've thrown myself back into vegetable gardening (I'd somewhat let it slip at home over the past few years though my husband had kept the allotment going). I've sown quick growing salad leaves, pumpkins and cabbages in the greenhouse, turnips in one of the small garden beds, with more to follow. With the weather being fine and sunny, I also made time to just sit outside, listen to the birds, watch the buzzards high above, see if I could spot the grass growing and flowers opening.








A couple of evenings I went out to catch the sunset, generally it's quiet then

but there were still dog walkers around, and I don't feel confident that if a dog ran over to say Hi that its accompanying child wouldn't. One afternoon I went as far as the wood to find anemones, but although the walk there wasn't bad (beside playing fields so lots of space to pass people), everyone seemed to have the same destination in mind, and once in the wood the footpaths seemed too busy for my comfort. I don't think I'll be doing that again.

There are other ways of 'getting out' though.

I've attended an online book launch for Sarah Jasmon's You Never Told Me (if all had been well, I'd have visited my Manchester daughter and gone along to the actual launch, but that wasn't to be). Over on Facebook, Sarah's now set up a page, Books From the Boat, where she'll be reading a chapter from the book each evening.

And I can even 'go out' to gigs.
A lot of touring musicians have effectively lost their jobs due to music venues closing and tours being cancelled, so they've gone online instead; no tickets required, but drop them a few quid, the money you'd have spent on drinks maybe, by Paypal if you've enjoyed the show. So I've seen Grace Petrie, Fast Car To Florence, and a new single launch from Gecko. I caught part of a Frank Turner 'gig' - each Thursday evening he'll be streaming live through his Facebook page to raise money for a different music venue's employees as obviously they've been affected too. I've listened to various living-room sessions from folk singers on The Covid Musical Collective, and a variety of artists through Isolate Live. (both of these can be found on Facebook, if you're curious)

Oh, and I've seen all those photos of goats taking over Llandudno.





I've done less helpful things too - spent too much time checking social media for updates, and too long counting tins in the food cupboard, or checking what actually IS in the freezer (it's always full but I can never find anything for dinner) - it's like a never-ending stock take. Social media is hard to kick, but I'm trying to limit my time on it. And, to stop me counting tins and packets every day, I've made lists. I love lists, they give me a feeling of control. Now I know how much I have of whatever, and can tick items off as they're used.



Not that many days in, and I found I was losing all track of the days. This seems really odd as the only fixed events in our lives are dustbin day (Thursday), and Friday when we see elder daughter and grandson, and OH goes out running with a club in the evening. I'm beginning to see why some people like to shop the same day every week. To add some 'shape' to the days, I'm making an effort to pick fresh flowers from the garden on Fridays, ready for the weekend, and I've re-introduced Sunday roast which we don't normally bother with.(chicken this week thanks to home delivery groceries, to be followed by the pork and gammon that have been in the freezer since Christmas).


I definitely haven't had time to be bored this first week. In the last few days I've seen several arts organisations putting content online - from virtual tours of museums, to National Theatre and RSC putting shows online, and Hay Book Festival intending to go 'digital'. I could be busier than usual.