Day seven. Any change? The mood has dropped. Yesterday was totally different; uplifting, even, and I’m not sure what has changed – other than the weather. That is it, though. The sunshine and blue skies heralded spring; encouraged one to look forward but fast forward and, today, I felt as though I had stepped into a page of Wuthering Heights! Venturing out, this afternoon, the greyness was all-consuming; the mist enveloping the fields and skyline, producing a constant drizzle and ensuring a dampness of spirit – but no Heathcliff! The great outdoors is a source of strength and the surrounding countryside, here, good for the soul. Yesterday, we had this but, today, it is proving far more difficult. As far as possible, I avoided the news until this evening and I shall try not to fall victim again. It puzzles me – has done from the beginning. This propensity to scare. Reminds me, a bit, of the good old days when the TV closed down at Midnight. The National Anthem was played and then a frightfully well-spoken voice would say, “Now, remember to unplug your television set and, for those of you living on your own, make sure all your doors and windows are locked.”! On the occasions when I was babysitting and in a strange house on my own, it used to scare the living daylights out of me! That is what it is like now. Constant updates on the latest figures of those who have died, the inability of the NHS to cope in the forthcoming weeks and, basically, how the world is all but crippled. There is no mention of the huge numbers who have contracted this plague and lived to tell the tale, nor any suggestion of an end in sight. Instead, it is a constant bombardment of negativity with no prospect of light at the end of the tunnel. People cannot live like this and be expected maintain the spirit necessary to survive. The media coverage has to change.
That is a long paragraph and, if my old English teacher, Betsy, were still with us, I’m sure she’d have something to say. Probably best she’s not. To be honest, it really is a messed-up world and certainly not one to be wished upon those who have been used to so much better. I fear the future for my children and generations to come – if there are any. There is no rewind button; no opportunity to request, “Beam me up, Scotty!”
You see the doom and gloom is catching! The whole social distancing and self-isolation scenario, too, has major flaws. While there is news footage of the police stopping people from making unnecessary journeys – fine – it becomes a bit ridiculous to see them apprehending those who have driven out into the country, in their own cars, to take their dogs for a walk (or just themselves) far from anybody else! Where is the harm in that? Who wouldn’t want to get as far away as possible in search of fresh air and freedom? What is going on here? I know I’m not alone in continuing to question this whole situation; in my inability to understand. Nothing adds up. There is so much more information to which, I am convinced, we are not privy. Perhaps, unwittingly, we are all players on a world stage; actors in a disaster movie of our own making. The synopsis? Blessed with the most beautiful planet, our greed and arrogance ensure not only our inability to live as one but the inevitable destruction of the environment and all species dependent upon it. Congratulations! A million-selling blockbuster, without question. The Oscar goes to … Well, Donald Trump would have to be in there somewhere!
I digress. Surely not! Back to the flaws … We had, successfully, avoided fellow man for days until today when there was a need to replenish certain supplies. Remember, Manny is here and un oeuf, sadly, does not cut it! Peanut butter requires copious amount of honey, real coffee is a must and my bread-making skills are being pushed to the limits. Alright, that last bit is a lie. I’ve never made a loaf of bread in my life but … one gets the picture. I am being eaten out of house and home! No need to mingle with fellow beings, surely? That would just negate all benefits of social distancing and self-isolation. I mean, if one is not allowed to drive into the country to facilitate a walk in peace, surely one cannot be expected to venture into a bug-infested shop? No, of course not. Hang on while I get my laptop and organise a home delivery – or not! Unless classed vulnerable, there is no such service. So be it. The point is, I had to brave two supermarkets today, dodging numerous potential threats in the aisles and at the till. There was a policeman on the door of one preventing more than one person per household entering. To what purpose? Only the grace of God will ensure I was not, unwittingly, exposed to ‘the deadly virus’ and, regardless, I was taking it home with me! It’s called a no-win situation giving rise to the waiting game. In short, Russian Roulette, the 2020 version.
Gosh, I can hear the deep booming voice, now, heralding our fate … Enough! Think positive. There was light in my day. The postman delivered a handwritten, white envelope, this morning, which immediately lifted my spirits – a card from Ginny! Isn’t life strange? Only the other night, I was writing about this amazing lady and how I treasure every piece of correspondence she has sent me over the years. I have been planning to pick up the phone for too long and, of course, she beat me to it! A mere 88 years-old, she never stops and yet she still has time to think of me! I wish I could have told my 6 year-old self that ‘Joy Adamson’ would, one day, be my friend …
I’m sure there was something else positive which happened to me today but I can’t, for the life of me, remember. Never mind. I can’t believe, either, that I have written a thousand words. I had planned to be brief; perhaps, limit myself to an hour – or a comedy script! Whatever. I have failed to discuss the finishing touches for my ‘Oh, how I wish it were real’ dinner party and I know my reader is on the edge of his/her seat desperate for details of both chef and entertainment. Such delights, however, will have to wait. Something to look forward to in a world unhinged.
‘If you’re lonely when you’re alone, you’re in bad company.’ Jean-Paul Sartre.
This is Trish, signing off.