Wednesday 18 March 2020

On Becoming a Hermit, Sort of ... Day 1

Day-1
(Tuesday, 17th March 2020)


"The Dukes Road"

Yesterday was our first day of ‘voluntary’ isolation. Following the announcement at a press conference by our PM, his Chief Medical Officer and his Scientific Advisor, on Monday afternoon, this was that everybody was advised to start a period of ‘social distancing’. Visits to pubs, clubs, restaurants and theatres were to be discouraged. The announcement came on the back of the worsening pandemic across Europe of COVID-19, the so-called Corona virus.

We had pretty much known, through the regular press, what was likely going to happen, so it wasn’t a complete shock, but, after a reasonable night’s sleep, albeit too short, I confess that I awoke with an overwhelming feeling that my life was suddenly empty. Empty of the activities in which I have I indulged for several years. Barbara too, although she is happy to catch up on some overdue gardening activity, my rehearsals and performances with the Sheffield Barbershop Harmony Club (Hallmark of Harmony) and chamber choir (Fox Valley Voices) have been curtailed until further notice. So, it will be virtual from now on: there are plans a foot to enable some kind of on line singing projects. We shall see what evolves. In the mean time I shall keep on singing at home, to myself and the dogs ... and Barbara, if she's got nothing better to do!


This morning I decided to take Guide Dog Puppy, Taz, to the Coop to get one or two things we needed - primarily cheese. On the way down the hill I noticed there seemed to be a scarcity of cars that are usually parked on the roadside. Thought it was a working day, but then fell to pondering why so many people were out in their cars and thought that it had to be to do with the Corona virus outbreak. On arrival at the Coop, my suspicions were confirmed. The car park was rammed! The world and his wife were there shopping for their lives. 


There was no apparent panic, but facial expressions were telling. A combination, somewhere between concern and mild panic on the one hand and, on the other, a kind of unwillingness to meet the eye. Was that an expression of knowing guilt, a demonstration of a proud wartime tradition, quintessential Britishness of keeping calm on the surface, whilst panicking underneath it. I don't know. I suspect a whole spectrum of conscious and unconscious thinking and, in some cases, I detect no thinking at all; an instinctive, but in my view, unnecessary reversion into basic survival mode ... all the while filling a public space with people, all of whom were capable of exchanging their invisible droplets of breath, and who knows containing the now infamous virus. I know now, when I arrived in the car park, that I should have turned round and gone back up the hill to the sanctuary of home, but part of me said that Taz would be disappointed not to get out of the car and have an albeit boring walk around the shelves of the supermarket. The other part of me, I confess, probably felt some part of that concern, panic and instinctive need to be as well provisioned as we could reasonably be to face the coming isolation.


Of course there were no toilet rolls or hand sanitiser on the shelves of the Coop and no paracetamol (the recommended pain relief). Across at the dispensing chemist, a sign on the counter said "we have no hand sanitiser and no thermometers. Again not surprising, as current advice says of expected symptoms, that a persistent dry cough and a temperature, were to be expected. Anyway at least they had some paracetamol, which Barbara usually needs more than me for her aches and pains, but who knows?

Looking North from the Duke's Road

Later, shortly after lunch, we had what I termed a 'Street Meet', quite incidental, but two neighbours and we stood in a triangle, ten paces apart, in some very welcome sunshine, and talked about things, including holidays. Barbara and I had earlier, regretfully, made the decision no to cancel our already paid for holiday in a remote farm cottage in North Northumberland next week. We felt that it is up to individuals to take responsibility for reducing the risk of spreading the virus, with the primary objective of avoiding the serious risk of overwhelming the resources of our precious NHS. If we don't take that responsibility seriously, we could end up like Spain and France with the limitation of movement being enforced by the law. I feel we are on the brink of selfish 'disobedience' on a level that could precipitate such action. I hope I am wrong, sincerely. It is time for us to realise it is not about self any more. It is about the effect our actions have on others ... 

The last activity of our day was to take the two dogs, Meggie and Taz, up onto the moors in a stiff breeze for a walk along the Duke's Road. It refreshed the spirit. A bit of escapist TV was followed by an early bed.


Today's Music Choice from Clemency Burton-Hill's "Year of Wonder" is John Field's Nocturne No.5 in B flat major.



[If you have been affected in any way by this journal and feel the need for support, please talk to a friend, a family member, someone who loves you ... or, if you'd like, leave a comment below]

1 comment:

  1. Wonderful bedtime reading, I also could find myself transported back to Stocksbridge, dispite these more dire times.

    ReplyDelete

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