Frustrating

 

I've been feeling the frustrations of life under Covid-19 restrictions of late. Maybe it's just been the heat, although here in the North we have certainly been spared the worst excesses of the thermometer.

It started  10 days ago now, when, somewhat out of the blue, a friend, whom I had arranged to meet for the first time since lockdown was implemented, was caught by its reintroduction in her area. She lives miles from the virus hotspot,  but because these Northern lockdowns are based on local authority areas was caught by the announcement. Of course, at the time we didn't know how it would affect our plans as ludicrously it appeared that whilst we could work together in an office, wave at each other but not sit together in a pub, we could no longer visit the other's home or garden. It became clearer over the next few days that in fact,  not only could she still go on holiday (had she one arranged) but, with no desire to barbecue burgers together as our plan instead was to meet for a socially distanced walk, we could still meet up.

The problem then, of course, was that it proceeded to rain. They were not intermittent showers either, but instead a full day of unrelenting bucketfuls of water pouring down from above. We postponed our plans to later this week and are now living on a knife edge so far as potential thunderstorms are concerned. Banned from entering cafes and pubs for sustenance and shelter together, it needs to be fair weather to enjoy a picnic in the open air.

Perhaps it all feels so much more frustrating when months of restrictions and guidelines have limited the opportunity for social interaction face to face. Then, when you try so hard to organise something, the plans melt away in a manner beyond your control.

So today I was at least hoping that Mister E and I  might get out on another ancestral trail. The route is planned and I'm hoping my great, great, great, great, great grandmother will be on hand to guide us. This time, however, the heat called a halt to our plans when Mister E sensibly pointed out that we probably couldn't carry the weight of water we would need to see us safely through the day.

Totally frustrated, I've taken it out on my paths. Does anyone swill paths anymore? Well I just have, and steps and a porch too. I've also hidden in the shade of the garage to sweep mountains of dust out of there.

Who would have thought that 21st century  western life would still be subject to the vagaries of the weather? There again, who would have thought that we would ever suffer from the effects of a pestilence?

 

Normally I find solace in my garden but today the impact of the hot start to the season, followed by wet then windy weather and now heat again, demonstrated itself when I went to gather plums. This year's total offering: a meagre 5 greengages with imperfections on their skins and a solitary damson!

 

However, it's impossible to vent your frustration for too long and once my pathways were gleaming I did find pleasure not only in the flower displays around the garden but also the produce that has grown in the vegetable patch this year. We are currently self sufficient in potatoes, onions, courgettes, cucmbers, beans, spinach and chard with tomatoes and peppers beginning to ripen and the other vegetables maturing nicely. We may have no plums but there seems to be a respectable number of apples getting ready for picking and my greenhouse is like a tropical rainforest. I'm just hoping that when the thunderstorms do strike they give paths and crops a wide berth and don't flatten everything.