Day 8 – Curfew – Tuesday 31 March.
It is the last day of March and a beautiful morning greeted me through the slats in my bedroom blind today.
It’s cool at around 10 degrees but there is plenty of bright-blue sky in among the few puffy white clouds and the sun is out.
My first task of the day was to go to our local shop to collect some pre-ordered groceries for some self-isolating older people in our village: there are many neighbourhood schemes all around the U.K. – ours is aptly called ABN (Astwood Bank Neighbours) and I am just one of many volunteers. The job in hand went really easily, the orders were ready and paid for (over the phone) so within 20 minutes I had collected them, delivered them and was home.
From there I took Martha out for what has become our regular walk over the fields. I decided to record a Facebook live session (never having done FB live before I had no idea what to expect) for just a couple of minutes. This turned into about a 8-10 minute session as many friends tuned it to say ‘Hello’.
It was fun; I could reply verbally and personalise my comments as I know those who called in pretty well. The funniest was my friend and ex-work colleague, ‘L’, who commented ‘We could meet in a brothel!’
Many years ago, when I was delivering an informal training session to her and another lady, I arranged to meet them in a hotel lounge. I picked the hotel out of the blue…it wasn’t the most salubrious of places but was in the middle of where we all lived, hence convenient.
After a while we all noticed that many people were coming and going – mainly men and younger women. It dawned on us that they were ‘doing the business’. We howled with laughter and have never forgotten it! Fun times.
Anyway, back to curfew. Today will be spent doing odd jobs, writing and exercising online. According to the news our U.K. police are now exercising their rights to stop and ask those of us that are out and about, our reason for being out.
There have been allegations of some of the police-force being rather ‘heavy handed’ (what’s new – I worked for the police in the late 1970’s and there are good and bad police officers, just as there are in every job). However, they do have a job to do, and, hearing a report of 25 people having a family barbecue, I believe this is a good thing.
I’m sure if they stop me when I am driving to pick up medicines or shopping for people who cannot do so for themselves, or when I am walking Martha, or when I am out solo-running and avoiding people by running in the road or other side or the pavement there won’t be an issue.
Recent events in the U.K. have made me feel super proud of being British. ‘Nightingale Field Hospitals’ are being put together in London, Birmingham and Manchester. They are ex-conference centres which are being erected and equipped to deal with the Covid 19 cases. Nightingale Hospital in London will have 4,000 beds and those who have worked on this project in such a short period of time are to be applauded. It is a magnificent effort.
One of my favourite songs is ‘I vow to thee my country’. Listen to the words folks and maybe you’ll understand why pride in Great Britain is this Girl’s Thing.
PS – just down the road from us is this beautiful dry stone wall, I couldn’t resist taking a photo to share
PPS – the farm (also just down the road) is a delight to walk through, ducks, chicks and geese all live there and enjoy a pretty little pond (it has a public right of way so I am not trespassing!