Here’s a question for you all: is life simpler, or more complicated, in Lockdown?
Don’t worry, I’m not
expecting you to answer (unless you want to, of course) because I am planning to answer my own question. After all, that’s the point of today’s Daily Blog...
I have been contemplating what my answer should be as I prepare to compose today’s Message to the Hopeful. As in, those of you who live in hope that I might stay on track and not digress too many times in the course of the next 750 words. My initial
reflection is that Lockdown Days are a bit of both - simpler but at the same time more complicated - which is another way of proving that if there’s a fence around, I (like the pigeons in our garden) will sit on it and flap about a good bit.
In some ways, being a 24/7 carer for Mr B means Lockdown Life isn’t so very different from the Old Normal. (As opposed to the New Normal which everybody keeps talking
about without ever actually explaining what it will look like.) For poor Mr B, who doesn’t get out much at the best of times and then only when I can find appropriate wheelchair accessible transport, not much has changed. Apart from the fact that I am
here all the time, an annoyingly ever-present presence, rather than snatching an odd hour or two out to go shopping, meet friends, seek out feathered friends with the Birdy Group or sing, tunelessly, in the Singing for Pleasure choir. I can manage the “pleasure”
part, easily, it’s the singing I’m struggling with, my voice not being what it was.
Let’s take shopping for starters. I am fortunate indeed
in having lovely friends who go shopping for me on a regular basis. This simplifies matters in as far as I don’t have to search for long-life carrier bags hiding out of reach in the cupboard under the stairs; decide which shops will provide me with best
value; mooch about the charity shops in search of second hand jigsaw puzzles for the next time the Rascally Trio come to visit; or queue for ages in the chemist for Mr B’s medication. I do, however, have to plan our meals for the following week, trying
to ensure I don’t forget any vital ingredients, and to compile a running shopping list throughout the week, noting down everything I’m getting short of.
To be honest, this is All Good Stuff. When Mr B announces that he knows exactly what he wants for lunch / dinner, I have a valid reason to explain that, unless I have happened to read his mind while composing this week’s shopping list (which,
given the random nature of his meal requests, is extremely unlikely) we will have to make do with whatever is in the freezer / fridge until the next time the Shopping Fairy comes to call. All these weeks into Lockdown and Mr B still doesn’t get it.
Meal planning and keeping a running shopping list do, however, make life simpler. The Youngest of the Darling Daughters has been trying to persuade me of this Fact of Life for years. Plus there is no danger of Sweet Treats jumping into the shopping basket
while my back is turned so hopefully we are avoiding piling on the pounds in Splendid Isolation.
Next, take clothes. It turns out that in Lockdown you simply
don’t need so many of them. I have two pairs of joggers and four different tops which I wear in strict(ish) rotation. There is no need to rifle through the wardrobe for the perfect outfit, the most appropriate accessory to wear for a special event,
a major occasion, a day out, a visit to family. Nor is there any point in getting bored with my wardrobe when the only reason to get dressed up would be to watch the Daily Press Briefing from Downing Street. I’ve even cut down shampooing my hair
because my semi-permanent hair dye only lasts 28 shampoos according to the packet so I am already living on borrowed time, lock-wise.
Lovely Kay who in normal
times helps me keep my house in order, can’t visit during the Lockdown (a source of great disappointment to both of us) so I am now in sole charge of Sweeping, Dusting, Polishing, Changing Bedclothes and Cleaning the Bathroom. What takes Kay two hours
takes me a whole week though my work-rate is considerably lower than hers. I suspect I won’t realise just how much my house and I have missed her until she returns - for the moment I am fooling myself that I am doing fine on the house-keeping front.
It’s simpler that way...