Apprehension Bites

It was my birthday at the beginning of the week. As ever, I feel neither older nor wiser; I am, however a lot more confused than this time last week..and probably more frightened too.

My birthday started with me singing Happy Birthday under my breath as I washed my hands at the sink, slowly smiling as I realised for once it really was an apt song. Later that morning I was greeted by friends with the same chorus only to be wrong footed later when I heard a complete stranger singing the tune, but it was directed at the hand basin and not me.

Bewilderment continues when, despite another birthday in the bag, I'm still of an age where (as in my last post) the Home Secretary believes that I can be called upon to work. In the meantime as an over-sixty, the Health Secretary classes me as vulnerable but not so much so that I fall into the class of people who are potentially going to be asked to stay at home for 4 months. What it feels like to be a retired health worker when the Government on the one hand describes you as a person of susceptibility and on the other may need you on the frontline, is beyond my comprehension.

It is difficult now to believe that when we flew out to Cyprus just over 3 weeks ago, coronavirus had hardly made itself known in Europe nor that it was only on Monday that it was announced that the whole of Italy would go into lockdown. A matter of days later and the whole continent is in crisis.

It is clearly now only a short time, maybe just hours, before I have to curtail my attendance at the gym. Also and although I have been helping out in a charity shop, I have resolved to do so on one more occasion only. Handling donated goods, mixing with the public (including from bus trips all over the North East) and processing cash coinage really have to be considered an unnecessary exposure to risk. When Apple and Urban Outfitters can close their stores, I really think it is incumbent upon charities who rely on many very elderly volunteers, to do likewise.

As for our EUrevoir trip, that too is well and truly postponed. We were due to fly out to Malta this coming weekend for 3 nights, but on Thursday Malta imposed a 14 day self-quarantine on all arrivals, making the trip impossible. I can't imagine we'll be sailing on our pre-booked ferry to Amsterdam at the beginning of April either, not least when today it was announced that restaurants and bars across the Netherlands are to be closed joining the museums and art galleries. I guess if we haven't all closed our borders by that stage, it won't just be a miracle but also a miserable voyage from one dystopian landscape to another.

For the present, however, I am living in what is considered to be a  low risk area, although recorded cases in North Yorkshire virtually doubled from 4 to 7 overnight. We know, however, that it is the unrecorded cases where the real danger lingers. With a population of 605,000 spread over an area of 3,300 square miles there is a definite comfort in being surrounded by green fields. On the other, as I looked across the countryside this afternoon, it all felt strangely quiet; too quiet as we wait for this enemy to strike.

The Prime Minister made a lamentable statement to the nation on Thursday evening when he told us bluntly we shall lose loved ones early, implied that we are being hung out to dry in an effort to stretch things out so that the NHS might be able to cope with the onslaught that is about to happen, and that meanwhile we should continue to wash our hands. I've paraphrased that speech dreadfully but if his intention was to conjure up the blitz spirit he alluded to, he failed miserably. His words and those of the advisers flanking him have been mulled over by many ever since. Personally, I think they were determined to try to frighten us into taking avoiding action, before it is forced upon us. It certainly worked in the hours that followed with so many planned events, especially of the sporting variety being cancelled or postponed. Whether it was intended to induce the bout of panic buying that has followed, however, I very much doubt. Empty shelves and shops rationing essential and not so essential items are just another aspect of the strangeness of the current situation.

Say what you want but predicting what is going to happen next in retirement is never possible. Unlike all those people who need to continue to go to work, many of them to care for the ill or vulnerable in society, we are privileged in being able to modify our lifestyle at little detriment to ourselves. Whilst and in order to enjoy our travels, I had planned to leave my vegetable plot fallow in 2020, I have now bought seed potatoes to chit in readiness for planting; I have saved volumes of ironing and paperwork to fill my days and might even find the time to complete the decluttering and redecoration of our home. I can't promise the blog posts are going to be interesting but they may well be more regular if not a little repetitive.

Oh and finally at the top of this post is a photograph of a birthday card from Mister E. Appropriately it was produced in China. I told him it looked as though he was giving me a virus. I hope that's not how this works out.