Lockdown Diary Month One

Have shunned all social contact for one month. Every day, thank my lucky stars that I have a garden and that I’m not on my own or worse, stuck with someone I don’t want to be with.

Life much the same as before. Farm work continues as usual and still plenty to do in the farm office after my thirty second commute (which you can watch here). No cakes or biscuits to bake for printmaking classes as they’ve been cancelled. Garden under control with vegetable seeds in ground and some green shoots just discernible. Blossom on fruit trees is glorious.

Paper boat made from old print

Fully intended to use this isolation time for number of creative projects. Had brief obsession making paper boats, which led to reading this article about the elderly but relevant to us all at present and pulling out CD (see below) to listen to this song again. Ongoing exercise to print circle on old book page each day and do something with it. Bit weird and may not last. Other creative projects still a list in head.

Haven’t managed to secure delivery slot for groceries so relying on efficient daughter Beth who had booked several pre-lockdown. Trying to keep order to minimum as she is buying for five households so meals are basic and wholesome. Like they used to be decades ago when spaghetti came in tins and avocado was a rare luxury. Or just a bath colour.

Decided to Kondo the drinks cupboard instead of restocking (see above). Finished small bottle of Benedictine given to us c1983 when people had dinner parties and drank liqueurs from tiny glasses with their coffee. Just enough tequila and Grenadine syrup (only nine years out of date and solid in bottom of bottle) for Friday night Tequila Sunrise in reprise of my Eighties cocktail enthusiasm. Moved on to spark 1990s joy of Roger & Tonic.

Dragged out vinyl music collection for evening entertainment. Noticed several albums borrowed from sisters have not been returned. Some records enthusiastically taken from sleeve but not as good as remembered. Others surprisingly good and made me quite nostalgic for my youth. Briefly. Progressed to CD collection and rediscovered much music. Discussed the aptness of our Isolation Songs* -Bill’s is Louis Armstrong singing What a Wonderful World and mine is Woodstock sung by Matthews’ Southern Comfort.

Feel parts of life have slipped back decades. Suspicions confirmed when broadband disappeared over Easter.

Wonder how much life will change post-lockdown. To quote Joni Mitchell’s Woodstock lyrics “I feel just like a cog in something turning”

* Number One in the singles chart on your 12th birthday.

 


purple sage and parsley

Reasons to Be Cheerful

I’ve always thought that blogs like this can be a little removed from the real world. We witter on about baking bread and taking walks, picking flowers and knitting blankets seemingly without a care in the world, while cataclysmic events rock the world.

I see no reason for that to change too much even though our lives have changed in ways we wouldn’t have considered possible a few weeks ago.

For many of us there are still plenty of reasons to be cheerful; here are a few of mine:

primroses growing in grass

Spring is here and winter is over. The primroses, cowslips and violets are in flower, the fruit trees and blackthorn bushes are frothing with blossom and the birds are singing. The hens are laying, the herbs in the garden are bright and fresh.

My calendar is empty for the next few weeks. No appointments, no obligations, no boring meetings. I can do whatever I like. So long as I don’t leave home.

I have more time to do the things I want to do. All Ruth’s printmaking classes in The Barley Barn have been cancelled, which is not something to be cheerful about, but instead we’re trying out printing projects and other creative things to share on Slamseys Journal. The first post about creative craft distractions if you’re stuck at home is already up and there’ll be more to follow. Also, instead of baking cakes and biscuits for the classes, I can fill my own cake tins.

It’s not raining and the sun is shining. The washing can be hung outside to dry, it’s a joy to get into the garden to sow some seeds and I no longer have to squelch along wet, muddy paths in wellies. Best of all, after a dismal autumn and spring sowing season, it’s finally just about dry out enough for the tractors to get onto the land in a last ditch attempt to drill some spring barley.

I have a knitting project that will last for ages. Last month, I knitted a Gamaldags sweater from Icelandic Knitter, which was incredibly quick to knit and I’ve worn it almost non-stop. I then had a fancy to knit a gansey or guernsey, whichever you like to call it. I have no idea why it seemed a good idea to knit something on tiny 2.25mm needles, which is taking an age to knit. There seems barely any noticeable progress after an hour of knitting each evening and though that seemed a bit of a drawback at first, it now seems a positive thing.

coffee and biscuits on the table

People have started to blog again. We may have to socially distance ourselves in real life, but on the web, we can drop in or open our doors to people all over the world. A virtual seat at the kitchen table with a cup of coffee and a biscuit.

*

Stay safe.