A Little Night Musing

Once again I find myself sleepless and with nothing much on my mind of any interest to anyone, so of course I felt bound to share it with the rest of the world.

The photograph above of the view from St Mary's south door down to the gate is, I think , a particularly atmospheric one.

It has an almost Dickensian feel and I loved it so much that I stole it from our newsletter.  I don't know who took it but they obviously have a sense of drama almost as well developed as mine.

A more compelling reason for using it is to remind me that it is nearly six months since I last set foot in St M's.

Although I greatly value the zoomed service on Sunday, it is a very poor substitute for actually being there, ensconced with the rest of the choir in the chancel and able to sing and take part whole-heartedly.

They have started to hold services again, but with only a very few (30) in the congregation and of course with no 'live' choir, and I can't help wondering if and when that will be replaced with the real thing.

Some people who can get to the church on foot cannot understand why I and many others are not even contemplating getting there by public transport (if any), or by taxi, but so far I haven't dared to risk  any such means.

The virus, I fear, will be with us for a very long time and I'm trying very hard not to feel cheated of my one real pleasure.

Real life these days for me and many thousands like me is a poor imitation of our previous one.

At present I go shopping with a neighbour and that is it.  Once a week and no other jaunts.  Sometimes it feels like a bad dream, but this is apparently the way life has to be lived for the forseeable future.

I apologise if this is a miserable epistle but sadly that's how I feel at present.  My sense of humour appears to have packed its bags and departed.  Can't say I blame it.

Forty Years On

 Sorry about the lay-out Google has changed access to everything.

Yesterday was my eldest brother's funeral some of which I was able to access by zoom.  Not in any way perfect but better than nothing.   

Yesterday was also the 11th anniversary of my husband's funeral, so it was yet another August coincidence. 

Today is the 40th anniversary of the day we moved here into this house, our first and only 'owned' home.

The 28th August was not only my parent's wedding anniversary but also the day John and I met for the first time, having previously only had telephone contact.

The next day, 29th August was John's birthday.

Just to add piquancy to the list John died on the 11th August (and so by an even more bizarre  chance so did his son) two weeks ago.

My mother's birthday was on the 12th August, a fact on which my father always commented "the beginning of grouse shooting".

So one way and another this 4oth Anniversary is over-full of things to remember. Good and bad.

I'm sure the next 40 years will also be packed with odd facts and councidences but not mine of course. 

Joy in Small Things

This morning after the on-line service a friend from the choir came round to see me, and for the first time since 16th March I let her in.

She came to bring me a card from her and the family and her personal condolences on the loss of my brother 9 days ago.

I wrote in my previous blog how I felt about loss during this pandemic but didn't mention the extra burden of not being able to talk about grief to anyone.

Just having a friend face to face (suitably distanced) made such a huge difference that by the time she left - cup of tea and one and a half hour's chat later - I felt as though someone had rolled the clouds back and let the sun shine again.

Being a stoic and not making a big fuss over things are seriously over rated behaviours, particularly when emotions are acute and the need for even tiny grains of comfort are supremely important.

It feels like a huge change, allowing someone over the doorstep, but oh how worth it it was.

Thanks be to God for good friends.

Loss in a pandemic

Since Lockdown began I have counted 8 deaths of people I knew, starting with a 14 year old girl, a member of our church, and culminating last Friday with the loss of my eldest brother.

None of these deaths were officially due to Covid 19, but i cannot help but wonder whether one of the hidden affects of the virus is loss of energy, vitality and optimism, and  whether these can actually cause a death.

The fact that none of these people no matter how greatly they were loved will receive the sort of send-off they deserved, and which we would love to give them makes the loss much more keenly felt,

Many of us are still not venturing out or taking public transport anywhere, never mind the considerable distances involved for many who have lost friends or relatives.

What kind of long-term affect this  may have on us is not yet known, but I can't help but feel that the grieving process will take a very different form than it would have done pre Covid.

Prayer and lighting candles in our own homes (in my case alone), will only go so far to easing the sadness we feel, with no chance to share the family or friends group of fellow mourners we would normally use as a crutch.

Let's hope and pray that an end to this awful period of our history will come soon.

Scared - Who Me?

Today I ventured out (thanks to my neighbour who gave me a lift), for the first time since 18th March,

To say I was scared stiff is the understatement to beat all understatements, I was terrified!

The mask I was wearing was slowly roasting me and my hands were sweating in the gloves but that was nothing to  my heart rate which was super fast.

Once in the supermarket I was just so intent on the actual shopping that I forgot to be nervous and luckily as it was 4.30pm there were very few people in there, which made it much easier.

It was becoming apparent that if I didn't make the effort to go out I was soon going to be unable to do so, and I'm so glad I did.

If anyone had told me what a terrifying prospect going food shopping would be  back in February I 'd have laughed at the idea.

The huge  change of mind this pandemic has brought about in so many people is astonishing.

One small step for woman.......

Nature Abhors a vacuum (and so do I)

Some people have 'found themselves' during this period of isolation, discovering new  found skills, doing all the jobs they have been putting off for months or years etc.

I have found just one - that is the art of doing absolutely nothing at all and honing it to unbelievable heights.

I did begin with the intention of cleaning my house from top to bottom as it has never been cleaned before, the more so because my cleaner has not been here since the 2nd March.

My unfamiliarity with my vacuum cleaner (in fact I'd say we were almost total strangers to each other, ) resulted in aching arms, hot sweaty face and a feeling of exhaustion like nothing previously experienced in my very long life.

Every day since 18th March when my prison sentence began has been filled with long periods of drifting followed by short (very short) periods of activity.

Not a total slob, I have showered, washed and cut my hair, washed clothes, changed bed linen etc, but together with the occasional foray into the garden to dead-head or do five minutes light pruning or weeding has been just about my limit.

Twice friends from church have brought their own garden chairs (I have none), and have sat in my front garden while I sat on a footstool in the doorway.  I made them tea and we had a lovely long chat and spirit-lifting hour or so, and I have of course kept in touch with my nearest and dearest by phone, but I have forgotton what most other people look like and only hope we will recognise each other when all this is over.

My next-door neighbours who are still doing all my shopping are now more familiar to me than any other person (and of course greatly valued by me).

Whether I will ever discover hidden reserves of energy or enthusiasm for cleaning my house is a bit of an unknown, but, they do say it's the thought that counts.

And I've thought about it a lot

FREEDOM ???

This picture just about sums up the position we all ought to be occupying if we are still obeying one set of rules.

We are apparently allowed out now, that is, those of us who have been shut in our homes since mid-March.

While one part of me is dying to get back into something like normal, the other, more cautious part is saying "hold on, it really isn't safe out there yet".

I am one of the very lucky ones who have really good, kind caring neighbours who have done all my shopping for nearly eleven weeks.

This has made me eternally grateful, but also very lazy, and changing the pattern is going to be difficult.

As  I don't drive and the town is 2 aand a half miles away, there is no way I could walk there and back, let alone carry heavy shopping, so the only solution is to risk travelling by bus and getting a taxi home.

Frankly, I'm scared stiff at the mere thought of being that close to so many people and I am quite worried about doing so until there is more certainty about the progress we are making in this fight with a deadly invisible enemy.

Courage is one thing, stupid careless behaviour something else entirely.

Help!  What is the right thing to do?