Storm Covid 2020-21
Life pre-2020
In early 2019, I celebrated thirty years as a liver transplantee
and the other things which had developed during that time (ITP and IBD) weren’t
bothering me at all because they were in remission. Just the usual agro women
commonly have to deal with around the 50 year mark. I felt well in myself and
times. Unhappy memories of the lowest points of my life when I was very unwell
were still vivid but becoming increasingly distant. The family were all well,
with parents and parents-in-law all living into their 80s. The convergence of key anniversaries and life
milestones on both sides of the family over three generations set my head
spinning. The diary for 2020-21 included our Silver Wedding Anniversary, three
round number ; and a nephew turning 18, sitting his A’levels and going to
university. I couldn’t believe the year 2000, a big round number far off in my
future as a childhood was now 20 years in the past. 2020 was an interesting round number too,
rolling off the tongue even better than Two-Thousandtoo and a leap year. When
it began, I was apprehensive about the future and always had been wary at the
turning of a decade. I worried the biggies such as the climate crisis and I
didn’t like much of the politics prevailing during the 2010s. As usual at the
beginning of a new year, thoughts turned
to planning holidays trips away around Britain and France, hoping they didn’t
clash with any of the family milestones. With the mortgage just paid off, we
had more money available and wanted to make the most of that before my other
half retired.
Notwithstanding past health-related lows affecting myself and
close family members, I considered myself lucky and knew there was always
someone somewhere having a much rougher time of it, so in many ways I had it
cushy. For the past ten years, I’d lived on the Hampshire coast. I regularly sketched
in the area around the Hamble River, watching lots of yachts and shipping of
various sizes in Southampton Water and the Solent. Views of the IOW and even
the industrial landscape of Fawley Refinery and the disused power station was
interesting to draw. Among my prominent memories of 2019 was the roof being
blown off the latter as demolition began. The chimney was visible for miles
around and served as a prominent navigation mark on the Solent. I liked the
area as well for its relatively good bus and train links which I used regularly
to travel further along the coast to places I’d been long fond of such as the
Arun valley. Occasion trips to London and the Thames where my father had long
drawn inspiration for his painting and printmaking. I enjoyed going to art
galleries and exhibitions, including those my father was involved in.
I’d always loved getting out and about, from childhood holidays
onwards. I don’t think there’d been a year when I hadn’t got away somewhere at
all. I considered the health and freedom to get out and about an important
quality of life. I felt for anyone yearning for it but unable to do so for
various repressive / oppressive reasons. Most of our travelling was around
Britain, including near annual trips almost to the other end of it to northern
Scotland from Honeymoon onwards. There we went walking and my other half had
taken part in various cycling challenges. At the beginning of 2020 he was
signed up once again for the Etape Loch Ness.
Simple pleasures included other than walking and cycling included
reading, browsing bookshops, art shops and coffee stops. My self-confidence in
my artwork ebbed and flowed depending on how well the last exhibition I’d been
involved in had gone and whether I’d sold anything. Potentially there were
about six exhibitions in my area happening in 2020 where I either knew I had
work in or wanted to try for.
I try to expect the unexpected I’d never been good with
disappointments and changes of plan, remembering childhood disappointments and
went through spells of finding it difficult to look forward to things in case
they had to be cancelled.
2020 started off pretty normally with full expectations of that
quiet life continuing, even as science programmes on BBC Radio 4 mentioned some
new virus in China to which no one was immune, no vaccine or other treatment;
very contagious and could be fatal. Later in January, news of tens of millions of people there in
several large cities having their freedoms of movement and gathering severely
restricted (lockdown). By the end of the month, the first confirmed case in the
UK and it was likely on the near Continent by late December 2019. In February
it got bad in Italy and concern mounted in the UK, but for a time the Westminster
government (PM Boris Johnson) didn’t take it seriously. I coined the term
Panic-Demic as a catch-all for the growing nervousness and feeling of a wave of
infection, anxiety and panic gathering pace and strength, getting ever closer
to home.
During the first week of March the Italian government imposed a
strict national lockdown which involved road blocks, as the death toll and
strain on their health service mounted. I hoped it wouldn’t happen here and
although I had a basic idea of the science (eg exponential spread) I hoped /
couldn’t believe anything like it could happen here, in Britain. Somehow we’d
whether the storm. In the second week of March, the World Health Organisation
declared Covid-19 to a pandemic. It was the third week of March that the Covid
wave hit home. What followed was the biggest crisis in certainly the western
world since WW2 and one of the toughest periods of my life. Certainly when I
while I was fit and well physically and comparable with close bereavements. I
hadn’t lived through anything else that was so pervasive and took over
absolutely everything. As it all kicked off in that third week of March, I
could scarcely believe it was happening and happening here. What’s more the sinking feeling that we were
at the beginning of a long haul that could go on for a year or more. Schools
and universities were told to close, as were cafes, pubs, musuems and
galleries. On the penultimate Sunday in March we went out for a walk from East
Lavant onto the South Downs but the relief we got from that was shattered when
we got back home to news trickling through that swathes of people were
apparently in denial at the seriousness of the situation and the only way to
get the outbreak under control being a lockdown. That was announced the
following day. Everything we’d planned / aspired to for the spring and early
summer was cancelled or postponed indefinitely. The art stuff I didn’t entirely
mind as the diary emptied of all the associated flappery and the rush of things
that needed doing for Warsash Art Group after their March AGM, where I was
Secretary.
Three particularly low / tough points: the first lockdown; August-September when I’d hoped to relax a bit
but lots of hassle; and worried about
what was clearly a second wave building for the autumn and winter. Knowing a
second lockdown was very likely, I couldn’t face going through another round or
worse of what happened during the first. My mood picked up in October and
November despite the renewed lockdown. The news was looking more hopeful then
than it had done for months (vaccines). The third low (ongoing at turn of the year came in mid-December,
when news of a new, more infectious variant of the virus spreading rapidly and
worst of all in SE England. Within a week of Christmas, two government
announcements about renewed, tough restrictions. We saw my parents on Christmas
Day but come Boxing Day we were in back in lockdown, as was much of the rest of
the UK.
The big thing was we and all those close to us stayed safe (drafting
in mid-December I hope I can still say that come end of year), not catching
the virus and doing everything realistically possible not to. The hardest
hitters came with the associated restrictions of freedom of movement / travel
and meeting up. Especially so during the spring lockdown. My hardest hitters particularly
then, but not only then were:
·
Being on an official Watch List / shielding / “Extremely
Vulnerable” – I have banged on about this enough through the year so I won’t
repeat it all here. Overall, it squashed my spirit, upset me in lots of way and
and had a huge impact on my mental health and I how I saw myself. We were both
ultra-cautious as I had every reason to believe they (medics / health advisors)
were right. I was on immunosuppressants and I was under no illusions about
Covid’s immediate danger or lasting effects. Though I hadn’t caught everything
going around there had been bugs that got me badly. Most recently the flu’ like
episode in 2016. What got me was the expectation at the beginning of the first
lockdown not to leave the house under any circumstances twelve weeks; even
socially distance within the house. Also the repeated unsettling / nagging
communications by text, post, phone calles. It wasn’t law but the wording of
the long letter and text that arrived during the last week of March “you are
strongly advised” was enough to have me wrestling with my conscious not just
through to June when, after ten weeks I was officially “allowed out” but beyond
that. Beyond that because of the deeper feelings and fears it provoked. I
thought very hard about it but the house arrest aspect was over-kill for me and
I felt strongly that everyone fit enough to get outside should do. For the
first time since my TP over 30 years ago, I went against medical advice. Though
I stuck to everything else (eg staying out of physical shops through to August
and again in lockdown 2), I still had a guilty conscience. Also, being told
what to do once about something this serious was enough. I didn’t need to keep
on being told and reminded. It set off my near-lifelong dreads of the phone
going and post arriving. Things I thought I’d gotten under control but were
just bubbling under. I felt more constrained by other having other people
around me (older parents and My Cycling Man) worrying and / or changing their
behaviour. I also felt embarrassed at having other people (NHS volunteers)
delivering my repeat prescriptions and for a time during the first lockdown
receiving food boxes. This in full view of the neighbours, when I looked and
felt physically well. I say Watch List as, unfounded and as over-reactive this
may seem, I had a real sense of being under surveillance.
·
Extra household admin / stress, mainly to do with grocery
shopping. For much of the year I was either advised against going shopping,
including groceries, and / or didn’t want to. That meant I had to plan ahead
very carefully grocery shopping almost exclusively online so we didn’t have to
top it up / go without. That took lots of time: particularly as everything
kicked off in March, and again in November, December, into January 2021 as it
all cranked up again during the run up to Christmas and the full repercussions
of Brexit. In March the supermarket shelves emptied of some items (loo rolls
most notably) as people stockpiled / were panicked. What totally threw me
because I hadn’t expected it was grocery deliveries rolling over. I’d never
enjoyed pushing a trolley around supermarkets, dodging other people all the
time, so ince our BMC days I had done the bulk of the weekly grocery shop
online and got it delivered. Until now it had worked well and I’d gotten
settled into a routine. I hadn’t known, though that the proportion of people
doing the same was so low (about 7%). No wonder then it all collapsed amid the
panic buying. The supermarkets fixed it by bringing in lots of extra capacity
and, being on the watch list I was able to get priority slots; but this took
several weeks. In that time, I was unsettled and constantly having to think
ahead to the next lot of shopping, uncertain I’d be able to get it delivered.
Part of the fix also came from a government website where people on the watch
list could register for extra support. I said initially no, we couldn’t get
food in. That prompted the food boxes. During that first disrupted month, they
made a big difference. The embarrassment came later in April, by which time I
had no problem getting deliveries, but I couldn’t stop the boxes arriving. As
Dad – also on the watch list – put it, “Sorcerer’s Apprentice”. It took several
attempts to re-register on the government site to say all OK now.
·
At no point this year, could I fully relax or switch off. Isolated
but not blissful isolation from the news. Like it not couldn’t switch off from
the news /media or other people’s worries / difficulties, general uncertainty
in a constantly changing situation / staying at home not an art retreat –
domestic stresses. Especially so when everything kicked off in March and around
the Christmas period. The news was usually grim, unsettling and depressing but
I still had to engage with it like it or not. If I didn’t, I’d only hear it
from My Cycling Man or Mum (usually) or overhear snippets while out. Had to
keep engaged as in a constantly evolving situation, the law and guidelines
about social distancing / what was allowed / inadvisable or not constantly
changed. Even though the gov.uk site where all this was comprehensive, it wasn’t
always clear / not always clear to everyone. A prime example was conflicting advice for a time about meeting up
with family over Christmas.
·
My Cycling Man had his own stresses (see below) but as I I saw it,
the bulk of the domestic stress / chores were falling on me, largely because of
the groceries. From mid-March onwards he began working at home: full time
through to August then usually two or three days a week. DSTL were very
supportive and, unlike lots of other people / businesses, this was secure and
on full pay. A big backlog of classified work requiring time in the office to
connect to the secret network built up through the summer. Otherwise he was
able to work at home with all the computer equipment he needed. Regular
tele-conferences in place of meetings here there and everywhere. Because he
wasn’t going to work or anywhere in the car in the first lockdown, he had to
get someone out to sort it when the battery ran flat. Him being at home 24/7
was something I knew I need to adjust to by the time he fully retired, but he
had no plans to do for over a year. It was brought up with a jolt then, when
that was unexpectedly brought forward. It was mainly little things like taking
over hoovering around him and not having lots of stuff debording all over
upstairs out of the Artroom I full painting or printing swing. Not that there
were many days this year when I was in the mood for that. But we adapted. My
Cycling Man’s biggest stress was the real possibility that he’d have to face
the loss of a parent for the second time in a year. On 4th April,
his Dad had a fall at home, broke his leg and had other complications. That
Saturday night was a long one as he sat up awaiting news. Mike made it through,
but still another scare a few days later. He was not able to do much from here and
because of lockdown, hospital visits weren’t allowed. He kept in touch with
Scott and Julie online and Julie / Bryan were able to organise help at home for
Mike when he came home during the third week of April. His recovery was long,
with blips and dips. He had to wear a rigid collar for a couple of months while
his neck heeled. Was unwell again in September and because he wasn’t very
mobile he really was isolated / stuck at home. We saw him at 39NR on our way
home from Wales in October, just after his 85th birthday.
·
Missing places (more than people) – the warm dry weather in the
spring and early summer enabled sitting in the garden which made a big
difference, at least while not to much other noise around the neighbourhood. In
defiance of watch-list guidelines, I still walked to Warsash and Hill Head.
Initially I wasn’t too upset as I had plenty of artwork / ideas for to do at
home. I also enjoyed the fun / light-hearted ideas for sketching suggested on
one of the Facebook sketching groups I followed. One day in April, I sat
outside sketching my feet, which took me into a happy reverie about a past trip
north to the Eden valley. Come May, though, I was missing my usual freedoms to
get out and about and wondered if we’d ever get them back. I had to stop doing
artwork based on maps then because that was normally the time of year we went
on holiday and if I’d followed the watch-list guidelines to the letter, I
wouldn’t have been able to leave the house. Even when lockdown restrictions
gradually lifted and travel guidelines were relaxed, I was still dependent on My
Cycling Man to anywhere I couldn’t walk to, because using public transport was
either discouraged / inadvisable. In August and September I took a few short
(no more than 20 minutes each) train journeys between Cosham and Southampton;
two of those to / from QA. All masked up as required by then, but I didn’t feel
going any further or during the second wave. As we found in other areas, not
everyone was as cautious / conscientious / compliant as we were when it came to
masking up or physical distancing. In fact some people, mainly younger people
and mainly mainly men were in outright denial and couldn’t care less.
Particularly through the later spring and summer everywhere it was very busy
everywhere out and about, especially beaches. In the longer daylight of the
spring and summer we got out early in the morning, very early sometimes. That
meant we could park and have some quieter time, but it still got busier earlier
than usual. To stay 2m apart had to
constantly look out for other people. When I was in the mood for it, I treated
it as gaming. When I wasn’t it was wearing and frustrating. As the days drew in
the autumn, we lost that early morning period. Certainly around the shortest
day in December, it was constraining as by then the mud season was well
underway as well and the weather was unsettled.
All that
said, though, we got out as much as we could when we could, in various and new
ways.
August-Septmeber
low
Just as I was
hoping to relax a bit, I found myself having to deal with a lot of medical-related admin / hassle and generally
inconvenient weather. Though there were wasn’t a prolonged constant heatwave in
the summer, the warmth started early, in April / over Easter, followed by some
very hot days in June and July and a particularly straining heatwave in August which
went on for about a week, followed by inconveniently timed rain later in August.
Time and again, I saw other people’s postings via social media with their
holiday snaps and feared we’d miss the boat / have to cancel again. I felt
demoralised disappointed about my art / lost my mojo.
One
particularly low day was the penultimate Sunday in August. I went for a walk in
the Farley Mount area while My Cycling Man went cycling. It didn’t relieve my
mood or depression. I was weary of social distancing; having to constantly stay
alert to other people; and it being so busy everywhere out and about; the
thought of the daylight shortening as we moved into the autumn and curtailing
those early starts we’d made to escape / distance from the worst of the
busyness; and missing getting around further afield independently of My Cycling
Man on the train. In August and September I made a few short journeys (under 20
minutes) on the train between Southampton and Cosham but didn’t feel safe or
confident about going further, eg along the West Sussex coast. Even the local
journeys I didn’t immediately mention them to My Cycling Man as I didn’t
wanting him worrying / putting any doubt in my mind. Nearing the bottom of the
hill into King’s Somborne on that damp Sunday, I went into a little chapel (no
one else in there). It was their display about WW1 that did it, with mention of
several young men killed in action in their early 20s or younger. I sat on the
pews in floods of tears, ashamed of my self-centred angst about trains and
inconvenient weather.
Art – all the exhibitions I’d hoped to take part in and everything
planned by art groups cancelled from March onwards, as were our holiday plans.
It wasn’t all bad. I quite liked the feeling of the diary emptying in the
spring, at what’s usually a busy time of year. I didn’t miss the flappery
associated with taking / collecting pictures to / from exhibitions, crowded art
group meetings or dispatching paper copies of newsletters. As WAG’s Secretary,
I liked everything moving online and going completely paperless. When we
weren’t in lockdown, I sketched hard along our local coast, combining it with a
walk or cycle ride. When we were, various ideas suggested on the sketching
groups followed on Facebook were light hearted relief. One Friday in April, I
was sat in the garden sketching my feet.
In the Artroom, though I didn’t feel I got much productive work done. At
the very beginning, the thought of having lots of time at home to knuckle down
to all those ideas from the previous winter and before/ projects put off. By
May, though that wore off and that was when I serious began missing places. As
– yet again – spring was early and warm and sunny, I found it too warm and
bright working in the Artroom. That’s been a perennial problem since we moved
here, but on top of it now I was so anxious and distressed by everything going
on that I found it difficult to focus. A general sense of info’ overload. Some artists relished
in the extra time / homebased art retreat but it didn’t feel like that to me. My
late summer low point deepened when I didn’t get anything accepted for the (now
virtual) Southampton open exhibition even though the theme of journeys and the
sea (marking the 400th Anniversary of the Mayflower) had been one I
thought I could run with.
Changes of mind / realisations better understand:
Some permanent, some temporary, some serious, some trivial.
Lockdowns unavoidable, unfortunately because couldn’t rely of
everyone taking it seriously / sticking to the rules. See notes during the year
about lots of people (mostly the over-50s) being scared, following the rules
and more; but some (young men notably) in denial, thinking it uncool to stick
with the rules, eg not wearing facemasks. This not helped by the Dominic
Cummings Barnard Castle incident in LD1.
Populism, including Brexit, climate change denial – if the truth /
trusted news is not what people want to hear and they hear someone else (eg
Trump) saying it’s not a problem, some people might feel easier and believe
outright lies. On Brexit / British politics, my views still stand but no longer
carde about how people voted. Cared much more about how they were behaving now.
Cars more sensible than public transport – temporary but ongoing
until further notice: a total one-eighty
because public transport didn’t feel safe. No provision for social distancing
and no natural ventilation.
Living in the countryside tempting, especially with the above
advantage that attracted me to live where we do, being put on hold.
Christmas decorations / push in November – decorations began
appearing in people’s gardens by mid-November. Instead of the usual problems, I
enjoyed them. They cheered people up. I invested in some myself, but expecting
to be able to put up our indoor tree in the garden without it
falling over was unrealistic. It fell over twice, including on Xmas when that
distant but still vivid memory of me sending the tree in 19 Woodbourne crashing
down converged with the downer of 2020.
There were upsides / if not
consolations
Saved Money
All agreed 2020 the toughest year in peacetime / since WWII but if
a pandemic had to happen, better now than any earlier: not only medical advances / knowledge but
also fast internet connectivity.
Places further afield missed / harder to get to but made up
getting out in new ways closer to home, including cycling. With My Cycling Man’s
help with new tyres etc, got my bicycle out of the garage and rode it for the
first time in 16 years (BMC days). First ride was to Hill Head and
Lee-on-the-Solent early morning Saturday 13th June. I rode it along
our local coast between Gosport and Southampton and across the tidal Test one
day in late July to Eling. Also to some the series of outdoor sketching days
organised for Fareham Art Group by Tina (also now a regular sketching in
Warsash on Monday mornings) in August and September. Cycling was more popular
than ever from the first lockdown onwards when lots of people took to their
bikes on the quieter roads and or (like My Cycling Man) out for exercise. Most
of my rides were to places I’d have previously travelled at least one way by
bus or train. Usually I’d head out early in the morning (well before 9.00am, if
not well before 8.00am on the light summer mornings). It gave me back some of
the travel independence I’d lost and widened the range of places I could get
to. As the days drew in and the traffic ramped up again in the autumn (very
much due to schools reopening after a six month closure) it was harder but
during the last two weekends of November, I tried out My Cycling Man’s 20 year
old mountain bike (fitted by him with tyres to best handle a mix of road and
moderate off-road) to Lee, Stokes Bay and Wickham. Also found a walking route
to Wickham. Wickham, in the lower Meon Valley was one of those places
relatively close by I hadn’t visited until now. During the anxious, dark days
of December, I looked forward to riding again in 2021, once the weather
improves. I think I also walked further than I ever did this year on a regular
basis. Again partly in place of public transport, meaning trips to say Lee,
previously about 7.5 miles and bus back, were now 15 mile circulars. I found
all sorts of new quieter ways through our area by foot and bicycle: mainly
paths through residential areas which were easier for social distancing and
meant I didn’t have to walk along the busier roads so much. Most locally, I
finally got round to using the foot / cycleway which goes under the link road
between M27 J9 and our local A27, after 11 years of living here. Used it as a
way to Titchfield, Titchfield Abbey and north towards Wickham. Also various
ways through Fareham avoiding the town centre. Saw more of the Meon Valley,
including the Meon Valley Railway Trail. My Cycling Man was very keen to get
cycling. Usually putting the bike in the car and riding out from somewhere like
East Meon. I often came with him and did a walk, eg Butser or Old Winchester
Hill from East Meon. He took some annual leave to cycle during the week during
the spring and summer. That enabled me to get out to the South Downs which I
missed during the first LD. We also did some walks together in the South Downs
area or Downs west of Winchester. On our anniversary, 15th June, an
early morning walk on Farley Mount towards the River Test. Early in June he
dropped me off in Winchester on the way to Farley Mount and I enjoyed wandering
around the city centre while it was quiet. We also walked from East Lavant,
Buriton, Petersfield, regularly. A couple of walks in August and September in
the Arundel / Amberley area. On the September one, we came upon My Cycling Man’s
colleague and my former Farnham Art Society colleague Chris Hall on Rackham
Hill, doing a ride along the South Downs Way from Cocking.
Lots going on in space, even if events on Earth not good
Unusual dimming of Betelgeuse later in 2019 continued into 2020.
When I looked up at Orion in early March it was still fainter than Pollux. It’s
variable, but usually somewhere between Aldeberan and Procyon. It returned to
normal brightness later in the spring. Speculation it was about to go
supernova, but put down in the end to huge starspots.
The night and early morning skies were busy with planets. Watched
Venus in the evening sky in the spring. Then, after inferior conjunction in
early June, it reappeared in the morning in the early summer. News of phosphine
(PH3) in the atmosphere which got people wondering if there might be
life in the clouds in what it is the hottest planet in the Solar System,
devastated by a runway greenhouse effect. There was a close opposition of Mars
in October, when it was brighter than Jupiter. The closest opposition since
2003. Jupiter and Saturn meanwhile were lower down in the sky in the SW. Being
low down, I had to go up the hill to the playground area at the top of the hill
to see them. In December, they were in close conjunction. Only the conjunction
of these two planets in my lifetime (the first in 1980 when I was 12, the
second in 2000). This was the closest GC for nearly 400 years (1623), 21st
December. Also the Winter Solstice. That Monday was cloudy and wet, but I saw
them on the Sunday night when they were a third of Moon width apart. Also that
Sunday, watched a live stream from a telescope at Exeter University; both
planets in the same field of view, with all of Jupiter’s four Galilean moons
and Saturn’s Titan also visible. Also interesting developments with Space X,
with a launch to the ISS in May. All a very welcome diversion from the grim
news on Earth.
Family
I saw Mum and Dad during the middle of February, staying overnight
at 37CA and travelling to London on the train from Aldershot for my Kings
appointment (where a Dr. Shanaker said looking at my good results no one would
know I’d ever had a transplant or had ever had liver issues). On the Friday
morning, viewed a vivid sunrise from their lounge window. Typical of Red sky
in the morning…warning, Storm Dennis hit the next weekend and raised the
Severn and Wye.
The next time I saw my parents at 37CA was on the second Saturday
in July. By then, people were allowed to meet family who didn’t live with them.
It was a fine sunny day. Mum did lunch and we looked at art /sketchbooks in the
garden.
After putting off due to the heatwave, we saw them twice in
August. On the 29th, an all-Bryce get-together at 37CA, squeezed in
just before Tom headed off to University and William back to school (and while
these sort of gatherings were still legal). When the Cradley folk and their dog
arrived, I barely recognised the boys. Like My Cycling Man, they’d both let
their hair grow during lockdown and after. William’s was shoulder length and
Tom had a beard big mat of ginger hair with a thick couldn’t see out fringe.
Tom turned 18 on 26th July. With A’levels cancelled, they went on
predicted grades from mock exams the year before. He had to query it amongst
the associated shambles but he got four straight A*s. In September he headed
off to his hall in the Clifton area of Bristol just before taking up his place
on the Bristol University Physics course.
On My Cycling Man’s side we saw Scott and Beth in August as they
made a brief visit during a daytrip to the area. They’d got engaged last year
and had their fingers crossed for an as yet unnamed wedding date in 2021.
Michelle and Andrew Bowdery had a scaled down church wedding in
September.
Mike’s recovery from his April fall / complications was a long
haul with blips but when we called in our way home from Wales in October, he
was much / looking much better.
We got away eventually – a sense in September of people heading
off on holiday while they still could ahead of renewed lockdown to contain the
second wave which was building before schools and universities went back and
accelerated it. I feared we’d miss the boat. A growing number of areas in
England and Wales had local lockdowns and restrictions differed either side of
the Welsh border, the Welsh Assembly generally being stricter than Boris’s lot
at Westminster. By the beginning of October, the whole of south Wales from the
Severn Bridge (M4 / Prince of Wales Bridge) and Llanelli was under stay-at-home
lockdown. Ceredigion where we had our first week wasn’t. We headed off on a
very wet soggy Saturday (Storm Alex, 3rd October), the M4 west of
the Bridge quieter than ever, with bi-lingual Local Covid Rules Apply
illuminated road signs. We wondered how far through the fortnight we’d get
before the net closed in on us. During the first week particularly I couldn’t
relax / switch off to the rest of the world as usual – I left My Cycling Man to
keep up to date with the news / changing restrictions but I still needed to
know. I was thought someone would come round at any time and tell us to go
home. My Cycling Man leaving his phone switched on (for calls and audible beeps
for text etc notifications) while we were out, didn’t help. It beeped by the
Teifi and when it rang by the River Wye the week after, I imagined this river
telling me to get a grip. I felt better during the second week, having
completed the first and got around then. Our cottage then was near Hay-on-Wye,
booked originally for the wedding in May, then postponed. It was very
comfortable. Two days before we due to leave the Welsh Assembly announced
they’d bring in a fortnight’s “circuit breaker” lockdown on the Friday after we
got home. We’d got lucky with the timing.
Strong arguments to do likewise in England, where there was now a
regional tier system of restrictions. Just before we headed off fairly early to
get a walk up to the Trundle in before the rain came in, My Cycling Man let
slip that the Westminster Government were considering national lockdown in
England the following week as total confirmed cases (since the start of the
outbreak) topped a million. That at least announced by PM Boris that evening
and not left to hangover the whole weekend until the Monday. 5th
November and last four weeks. Suspecting something like that coming, we got
another visit to 37CA in the weekend after we returned from Wales.
Lockdown 2 – 5th November – 1st December
When that came it was nearly as bad as the first one, though I
think my parents found it harder because they were older and found the time of
year harder. What made the real difference was this time, it did not come with shielding.
I still got a letter and emails from the national (NHS) one and local authority
but they weren’t as heavy as the first lot. Just advised, like everyone else to
stay home as much as possible and generally take extra care. Shopping not
advised but I had absolutely no intention of going into any physical shop for
at least that four weeks. On the same day lockdown started, I had an overdue
telephone consultation with Kings. Overdue as it should have been in August but
nobody called (among the medical admin hassles). It was Karen, one of the
current Transplant Co-ordinators who called. A specialist nurse working closely
with Dr. Agarwal, one of the consultants, congratulating me when he saw me in
2018 for coming up to nearly 30y post-TP. This was one of the most thorough
consultations. She asked me lots of questions but in an easy chatty way
conducive to opening up. She asked me how I’d been during the Covid outbreak,
including the shielding. Me getting out walking and cycling despite that and
how important getting out and about was to my quality of life came up later,
when she asked about my mental health. This was the first time anyone at Kings
had asked about my mental health. She was very supportive of everything I said
and didn’t say anything to put any doubt in my mind about going out as per
restrictions during this lockdown and after.
Because of lockdown we kept our time out to exercise only and
stayed local. My Cycling Man went into the office to do essential classified
work for 3 or 4 days during November and took the car out a couple of times to
cycle from Farley Mount. I walked and cycled for home, usually for half days
and back for lunch. I tried out My Cycling Man’s mountain bike (replaced with a
girl’s saddle) during the latter two weekends in November and found it suited
me.
The four weeks went by very quickly, as this time of year during
the run up to Christmas always does. Though people were told by PM Boris and
others Christmas would be different this year, the overall outlook looked more
hopeful than it had done until now. Vaccine development / progress was well
underway. One reason why if there had to be a pandemic, 2020 was a better time
to have it than any earlier. The redeeming feature of 2020 was Donald Trump
losing the US Presidential Election to Joe Biden. Only just and not without
throwing his toys out of the pram.
Music / Keep Looking Up
I commented in the 2010s about music evoking a stronger emotional
response than it did with me as a child / as a young adult. At least I was more
aware of it and seemed to be more easily moved to tears. Usually soppy the
soppy pop songs but also uplift. I now listen to most of my music streamed
online. We now have a joint Spotify subscription meaning we can call up
virtually anything. Rock and pop from the 1970s and 1980s was a relief as it
came from easier times. Otherwise, music which particularly struck a chord this
year included:
Feel tearful even recounting the Leo Sayer track which cut me up
in Artroom the weekend before the first lockdown; Orchard Road. It was a
guy who’d divorced or separated but now it chimed with me being unable to visit
my parents / people generally not being allowed to see their families.
David’s lockdown concert – homebased at Cradley, with him playing
the piano, a bit of Tom playing the Clarinet, playing the guitar and singing.
Shared with the family / friends online as audio and video files. I’d heard and
knew the sad story of Schubert’s life cut short / Last Sonata at David’s
Kidderminster Town Hall concert in 2018, but now it was him inviting us to
picture getting through this (lockdown) and walking on the Malverns. Because I
was so missing places, that was the one that got me. The uplift came with David
enhancing Don’t Stop Me Now by Queen on the piano: video with a portal
with a rocket painted by William. Riding through Lee-on-the-Solent on a fine
Sunday afternoon in September, Bicycle Race – I want to ride my bicycle. I
want to ride it where I like played in my mind in defiance of my angst
about the second wave.
Lockdown 3 - The Worst Sequel Yet
The Great Conjunction - on the 21st December, Jupiter and Saturn reached their closest alignment for about 400 years. Though it was cloudy that Monday night, I saw them low in the southwestern sky in the late afternoon twilight on the Sunday. They were less than a the width of the moon apart. These planets only align every 20 years: previously, I'd seen them aligned in 1980 and 2000. In any other year of my life until now, I would have been able to enjoy that and look forward to Christmas and switch off from the news for a bit. But not this year: it was now clear Covid cases were ramping up rapidly, threatening to over-run the NHS / hospitals yet again. What's more, cases were now ramping up in SE England which had got off much more lightly than the north and midlands during the autumn. This is not quite what I heard in the press briefing (BBC News 19th December) from PM Boris and Chris Witty, but essentially:
For everyone living in, among other areas, London, Kent, all of Surrey except Waverley, Havant, Portsmouth, Gosport, Christmas is essentially cancelled. Everyone in Sussex, Southampton, Farnham, Fareham, Lockdown starts Boxing Day.
