Day 1 Curfew – Tuesday
Here we are, beginning a 3 week curfew in the U.K: for those who like to socialise and/or keep busy it’s going to be particularly tough. For anyone who lives alone it’s going to be particularly tough. For people living in flats/apartments with no outside space it’s going to be particularly tough.
I feel very lucky to be healthy and fit…and to have a garden; at least I can be outside in the fresh air where the occasional chat with our neighbour ‘S’, over the fence, can still be enjoyed.
Hence, I thought I would diarise my 21 days of curfew, so that when my great-grandchildren are in their history lessons they will have ‘heard it from the horses mouth’, so to speak.
On hearing Boris’s speech on Monday – and seeing his somber expression and body language – my heart sank yet I knew I would heed the advice. We just have to don’t we – being in the Navy I learned that, even when you don’t understand or agree with an order, you just bloody well do it!
I also realised I would need to plan out my days in my head – and s-l-o-w things down. I’m one of those annoying ‘do-it-all’ people and I love speed (not the drug!!) so I tend to fit too much into each day.
Bearing this in mind I still spent today being pretty busy, but as the days go on things will slow down for me. This morning I took part in an online Pilates class – it made me laugh out loud when the instructor’s small son came in and sat by her. He is super-cute and when he gave her a big cuddle and kiss I am sure the whole class would have let out a huge ‘aawww’. Funnier was when her large old dog plodded across in front of her. Ever the professsional, ‘C’ carried on with the excercises, beaming her gorgeous smile. That session filled an hour.
From there I went shopping for a friend who is classed as vulnerable. ‘S’ has asthma, she has recently been on steriods, doesn’t drive and has 4 children – 1 is disabled – so how can she possibly go shopping? Ordering online is O.K. usually, but her last shop had substitutes and her disabled son needs a certain type of yoghurt and certain foods (what some of see as ‘habits’ are – for some disable people – an essential way of life).
I almost lost it when the most uncaring customer-care assistant at our local Asda (Redditch) smirked, ‘You can’t use her voucher card without the letter, as you might have just found the card’. What???
I explained my reason for being in the shop and offered to call ‘S’ so that she could speak to the assistant and give any reference number or information pertaining to the letter/card. I also tried to reason with this horrid woman, adding I wouldn’t be able to return to the shop for a second shopping trip so this family wouldn’t get their food. Eventually she turned her back, made a phone call and grudgingly allowed me to use the card.
I will be writing to Asda and giving them pointers on customer-care – in particular how to position bad news to customers; it’s all about how we say things, not what we say isn’t it?
(Tact is a subject for a blog sometime – there is a funny story I have tucked away.)
After delivering the shopping to ‘S’ and her family, I drove to Henley-in-Arden to deliver some items to my mum and my aunt who are self-isolating together with my aunt’s husband – the very patient and gentlemanly ‘J’. Keeping the 2 metre distance I couldn’t hug any of them and it felt so wrong!
Once home I prepared a salad for a late lunch, flicked through a magazine, had numerous conversations via text and messenger then spent a couple of hours working in the garden with the O.H.
Whilst he then cooked dinner I sat in the quiet of the summerhouse and enjoyed a long phone call with one of my sisters. For once, I didn’t feel the need to rush the call and it felt good.
Note to self: after curfew plan less in your days so that you have time to really listen and to chat to people on the phone.
Finally, after dinner Tom and I watched a couple of episodes of a series on Netflix and I went up to bed around 10pm where I indulgently lounged around listening to the Archers.
Bliss, and definitely this Girl’s Thing.
Hugs
Leigh
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