Covid-19 Lockdown, A Rural Diary - Day 1
I am turning back the clock to the beginning of Lockdown.
Monday 23rd March, 2020
The afternoon before the Government's lockdown announcement later that same evening, I was in the supermarket, primarily to get and send supplies of a crucial item of a personal nature for my 87 year old mother in law who is housebound hundreds of miles away down south. How things had changed since I was there two days before. At the weekend it seemed like business as usual apart from the inevitable empty shelves where loo paper, tinned tomatoes, flour and pasta used to reign. Ridiculous amounts of all the same bunch of flowers for mother's day. I don't think you'd feel very special with that one!! I noted there were fields of broccoli, too, but no other veg.
Waiting patiently at the fish counter, an employee finally rushed over, apologising: she had been helping unload a huge delivery which had just arrived. While I was there, the whole veg and meat sections became full to overflowing with fresh produce. I had timed my run well - or badly. I had come in for just a few things and suddenly I felt compelled to stock up while there was good, nutritious stuff to be had. I had not known when lockdown would be, but I knew it was coming. We all did. China, South Korea, Iran, Italy, France and Spain had shown us that. I had not stockpiled a thing to date: just gently made sure my cupboards were full of a wide variety of things from tins to drain unblocker (always be prepared is my motto!). So my trolley became a little fuller than expected with a good range of fresh produce, including some chicken which I hadn't seen for weeks. I also picked some greens up for family friends who were already fully self-isolating as two of them had coughs. I felt like putting a post-it note on my head saying: 'they're not all for me, promise!'
So that Monday afternoon, the situation was very different. There was a new sign outside the supermarket saying you may have to queue patiently to be let in and, once inside, to keep the 2m recommended distance from each other. There was one man doing his shopping with a mask on, another lady with her scarf pulled up over her face and mouth. I automatically shifted the position of mine to similar. It made you more nervous. It made you think. There were few of us there, but we all walked round each other in wide circles, changing direction in the narrow isles if someone was coming towards you. Not making eye contact. Suddenly everyone was suspicious. It was good to hear a friendly voice suddenly and unexpectedly call out my name. My friend was there with her son. We stood safely apart and discussed our situations: her father with terminal cancer who lives with them; her son's forced return from Namibia and all his other projects across the globe, as part of his Masters, now cancelled. A year of intense study wasted - or at least very much up in the air now.
Plugs pulled abruptly on university finals, A levels, GCSEs; jobs in the balance; bills not being met; rents not being paid; businesses collapsing; the desperation of the self-employed; a stock market in chaos; pension plans wiped out; an overloaded, underprepared NHS. This, unbelievably, is the new world order as we battle daily with the news of the spreading pandemic and the mounting death toll.
Monday 23rd March, 2020
The afternoon before the Government's lockdown announcement later that same evening, I was in the supermarket, primarily to get and send supplies of a crucial item of a personal nature for my 87 year old mother in law who is housebound hundreds of miles away down south. How things had changed since I was there two days before. At the weekend it seemed like business as usual apart from the inevitable empty shelves where loo paper, tinned tomatoes, flour and pasta used to reign. Ridiculous amounts of all the same bunch of flowers for mother's day. I don't think you'd feel very special with that one!! I noted there were fields of broccoli, too, but no other veg.
Waiting patiently at the fish counter, an employee finally rushed over, apologising: she had been helping unload a huge delivery which had just arrived. While I was there, the whole veg and meat sections became full to overflowing with fresh produce. I had timed my run well - or badly. I had come in for just a few things and suddenly I felt compelled to stock up while there was good, nutritious stuff to be had. I had not known when lockdown would be, but I knew it was coming. We all did. China, South Korea, Iran, Italy, France and Spain had shown us that. I had not stockpiled a thing to date: just gently made sure my cupboards were full of a wide variety of things from tins to drain unblocker (always be prepared is my motto!). So my trolley became a little fuller than expected with a good range of fresh produce, including some chicken which I hadn't seen for weeks. I also picked some greens up for family friends who were already fully self-isolating as two of them had coughs. I felt like putting a post-it note on my head saying: 'they're not all for me, promise!'
So that Monday afternoon, the situation was very different. There was a new sign outside the supermarket saying you may have to queue patiently to be let in and, once inside, to keep the 2m recommended distance from each other. There was one man doing his shopping with a mask on, another lady with her scarf pulled up over her face and mouth. I automatically shifted the position of mine to similar. It made you more nervous. It made you think. There were few of us there, but we all walked round each other in wide circles, changing direction in the narrow isles if someone was coming towards you. Not making eye contact. Suddenly everyone was suspicious. It was good to hear a friendly voice suddenly and unexpectedly call out my name. My friend was there with her son. We stood safely apart and discussed our situations: her father with terminal cancer who lives with them; her son's forced return from Namibia and all his other projects across the globe, as part of his Masters, now cancelled. A year of intense study wasted - or at least very much up in the air now.
Plugs pulled abruptly on university finals, A levels, GCSEs; jobs in the balance; bills not being met; rents not being paid; businesses collapsing; the desperation of the self-employed; a stock market in chaos; pension plans wiped out; an overloaded, underprepared NHS. This, unbelievably, is the new world order as we battle daily with the news of the spreading pandemic and the mounting death toll.
Comments