Lockdown Diary — Week 2
Monday
A day after returning, empty-handed, from the shuttered high street, I ventured to Tesco for supplies, wearing a surgical mask for the first time. A shabby line was constructed from tape and overturned trolleys, with marks on the floor telling us where to stand. Two-meter indicators here and there and around the world, showing how much has changed.
At home Noel was delighted by a watermelon, devouring half of it before bedtime. We appreciate food more now, and bringing it home feels like an event worth gathering for, rather than a chore.
My first job, directly after finishing school, was at Tesco. I’ve always had a sentimental attachment for the place, which marked the beginning of my adult life. During my first Summer I worked on the customer service desk, selling cigarettes one day to people people muttering about a plane crash. I went home that evening to find my father sitting on the floor in front of the television, watching the footage of airliners smashing into the twin towers, people fleeing from skyscraper dust. We all remember where we were on that day. I wonder how these days will be remembered.
Tuesday
The last trip we made before lockdown covered a few miles on a steam train, a favourite of the boys. We’re in a handy location for it: Kent surely has the highest number of heritage steam lines per capita in the world. We paid an extra £10 to travel in the first class compartment, the better for social distancing. I suppose those carriages were designed with a different kind of social distancing in mind.
I bought a train set for the boys to enjoy another train experience at home. A proper Hornby set, like the one that I had as a boy, probably the best birthday gift I ever received. It felt indulgent, spoiling, to buy such a set without any particular occasion. It cost the equivalent of two days of Noel’s horribly expensive childcare, payment of which is mercifully paused.
We set up a circular track in the kitchen and, after numerous warnings about the fragility of the model train, the boys took on the roles of conductor and point changer. “It is very delicate,” said Noel.
Wednesday
The school theme for the week is butterflies, starting each day with a different poem on the fluttering insects. Fortunately, poems on butterflies are as abundant as Kentish heritage steam lines, so there seems to be ample material. “What do you think about butterflies”, I asked Jesse at the end of his day. “They are a bit girly,” he said, “but they have lots of interesting features.” The little diplomat.
The ironing board standing desk served me well, but doesn’t feel like a permanent work station. I have rescued our old dining table from the garage and dusted the worst of the cobwebs off the wood and onto the carpet. The new desk is more comfortable, but the ironing board was better for my back.
My company has various projects ongoing to help with the Coronavirus response, and I’ve helped out on a few of them. A few different projects were shared today and I came away feeling not only proud of my colleagues, but thankful that our work has meaning amidst the outbreak. It makes the hours worthwhile. Our neighbour came by chance upon an article we published about a potential treatment. I can’t remember a time when everybody was so focussed on a single topic.
Thursday
We have flour left, but no yeast. The WhatsApp Barter Channel continues to deliver: within five minutes of asking a can of yeast was waiting on our doorstep. Rong, not usually a prolific baker, is making a project of New York style bagels. The first attempts were somewhat flat, thanks to our own dead yeast, but the second batch, with the bartered yeast, were as good as any I’ve ever had.
Friday
The cases in the US surge day by day, as some states continue to resist social distancing. The death-tolls projected by Trump seem horribly high, after so much time dismissing the “chinese virus.” It seems clear that the US will be hit hard, while China may be returning to normality. At least, my parents-in-law now worry more about us more than we worry about them. I wonder if this is the event that puts the Chinese economy permanently ahead? What would people make of that, and what conspiracy theories will rattle around if it did?
Work ended on a gentle note today with one of my colleagues streaming his reggae collection during video happy-hour. He has quite a sweet setup with two turntables, and I enjoyed his mellow playlist. Noel came in to see, immediately keen to put a record onto our own player. I bought it at Christmas, to show that not all music comes out of Alexa’s speaker. Unfortunately our record collection is rather limited, so the reggae was joined by Christmas carols.
Saturday
The schools are now broken up for the Easter break, not that it makes much difference. There won’t be any online classes (on butterflies or otherwise) for the next few weeks, so the kids have free rein now. We might continue some of the home schooling into the holidays, in the interest of discipline and morale.
The tooth-fairy is scheduled to visit Jesse, who lost his second tooth last weekend. There wasn’t a single coin in the house. He woke up to a note from the tooth fairy, advising him that due to practicalities around the coronavirus, the cash-for-tooth contract would be fulfilled the following week. He sat up in bed the following morning, reading it over and over with the utmost sincerity. There’s still so much wonder in him.
He does wonder continually about progress on the tree-fort. The fun part of the construction is over, and the rather less enjoyable task of flattening the ground beneath its final resting place remains. I steal myself and get ready for another afternoon of digging.
Sunday
I remember my mother taking me outside one day, back home in Norfolk. She commented on the sky above our front door, which was the deepest shade of blue we’d ever seen. An azure blue, the kind you see through the window at 35,000 feet, contrasting the leaves of the willow trees that surrounded our quiet garden. The sky today felt a bit like that, more intense than the normal, milky blue. I wonder if it’s another symptom of the cleaner air.
I won’t check, it’s nice to assume some things are true.
