The C-19 Diaries. Birthday in Lockdown.

Day 2

First thing this morning, Disco Dave sent me a video birthday message on WhatsApp. Disco, being the father of 3 young girls, has an encyclopaedic knowledge of videos that YouTube would never consider adding to my “Up Next” list. This one involves a silly song (they always involve a silly song) about a cat licking my birthday cake.

He goes on to assert that Baileys (of which he has been known to partake) is widely-known to improve video-editing skills by 13%.

I myself am fairly sure that one’s video-editing skills improve by a percentage roughly equal to the ABV of the drink you’re currently having. So I went straight to the limoncello this morning.

Shortly afterwards I remembered that I wasn’t going to be doing any video-editing today. 

Managed to leave the house today. I made a trip to the supermarket (two supermarkets, a local grocery store and a corner shop, actually) and got some shopping for mum. Which therefore entitled me to legitimate house-leaving on two distinct grounds: “shopping for essentials” and “providing care to the elderly” (no offence mum).

Technically I got some exercise too, since my car was parked at the top of the hill.

So, the only cakes I got today were cake-emojis. Although in a furtive doorstep-shopping-bag-exchange with my mum I got a couple of birthday cards and a beef roast. She got a couple of cans of condensed milk and some small-headed broccoli. I am still unsure as to what recipe requires this combination. 

I’m only joking about the limoncello, dear reader. I didn’t start on it until after dinner.

Stay healthy everyone!

The C-19 Diaries. Lockdown.

Day 1

Approximately two hours after I write a blog post entitled “Not in Lockdown yet…” the PM – wilfully ignoring my blog activity – broadcasts to the nation that we’re now Locked Down. 

Of course he doesn’t use that phrase. But we’re not allowed to leave the house, mostly. There is no definite time given as to when the new restrictions come into force, apart from a vague “from tonight”, so I drive through eerily-deserted streets to make an emergency visit to the office, where I forage for some equipment that will make video-production from home more achievable. 

Along with some decent headphones, I find coffee beans, pasta, and PINE NUTS. Glory be, as my granny would have said under similar circumstances. I also rescue a half-full packet of Tunnocks Caramel Wafers. All of the above are known ways to improve video production.

Then, as an afterthought, I retrieve my Nerf Gun from my desk. You just don’t know when you’re going to need a personal firearm at times like these. Disco Dave has been self-isolating for days, and we are fearing a rampage sometime soon.

Today, I spend the morning reorganising my “office” space, aka the living room, which I will now be sharing with my flatmate. I spend so much time on the reorganising and tidying that I don’t get any actual work done before it’s time to stop for lunch. It’s a nostalgic throwback to the days when I would find any manner of domestic tasks to do rather than sit down and revise for exams.

Myself and the ops team work on a new plan for how to produce an online church service, without access to our church building, and working remotely from home. The main problem we foresee is that some of our content-providers – who will record themselves on video – reside in the Sticks, where the broadband is so slow it would make you crave the good ol’ days of dial-up.

We speculate on ways that we could more efficiently receive the video files from them. Suggestions include training up a carrier pigeon. Or taking the SD card containing the video recording, strapping it to a nearby sheep and hope that it wanders into one of our gardens sometime soon.

We’re a resourceful team.

Yesterday I ordered a few things from Amazon. This morning I get a text message:

Your driver will deliver your parcel today between 17:18-18:18, you do have options if you’re not going to be in.

Oh, it’s ok. I think I’ll be in.

I have another delivery earlier in the day. On opening the front door, the driver jumps back, sort of like a startled rabbit, so as to maintain the 2m distancing. I think she overdid it and it was more like 3m. I am trying not to take that personally. 

My delivery included a birthday present from my sister. I had originally requested a new pair of ski poles, having snapped one in an unfortunate chair-lift incident during this year’s ski trip.

However, on account of the PM’s announcement last night, and the sudden-dawning realisation that my hairdresser would now be closing, I felt that hair clippers would make a more pragmatic gift. So I am now quite excited to try these out. I am also nervous about the results.

No photos will be posted here, don’t even ask. But anyone with a Zoom meeting lined up with me anytime soon (there are a few) is in for a real treat.

Avoiding non-essential social contact

The pre-Coronavirus Diaries, continued

Sunday

Life continued as normal today. Was at church morning and evening, where we sang songs about God’s goodness and love. Nobody sounded fearful, but it felt like there was an air of resignation that this would be our last ‘normal’ Sunday for a while.

My fellow tech team member tonight was George, whose self-isolation game is strong all year round. I hope he starts blogging with self-isolation tips for the masses.

Phoned mum in the evening. She stayed away from church tonight, on social-distancing grounds. On the upside, her forthcoming 80th birthday will see her receive an additional 25p per week in her pension. She is understandably over the moon about this and unsure of how to invest her new-found affluence.

Tomorrow I am theoretically up for jury service. But a phone-call this evening confirmed that I am not required to attend tomorrow. 24hrs stay of execution, at least.

Monday

In the whirl of coronavirus-related uncertainty I put on a clean pair of trousers this morning, but forgot to add a belt. However, it’s ok – it turns out that my trousers are self-tightening. Should be ok so long as I don’t stash too many tins of tuna in the pockets.

My trousers’ new-found self-tightening status may or may not be a result of me powering through the 90kg weight barrier recently. Smashed it, I did. Left it choking on my dust. I look forward to renewing acquaintances with 90kg on the way back down sometime in the future.

Just after I’d sent an email to my work teams saying largely “business as usual this Sunday” the PM, without checking with me first, holds a press conference and instructs us to avoid “non-essential” social gatherings.

So we’re into the next phase.

My Sister gets in touch on WhatsApp: 

“Y’all ok? Enough turmeric?”

Then she sends me a link to where I can buy a 25kg bag of it online. I am grateful.

Not required for jury duty tomorrow either. On reading the “Coronavirus Update” page on the Scottish Courts website, I am fairly sure that they consider the judicial system to be “essential” social contact. So I don’t think Coronavirus is going to help me here.

Tuesday

On reading my previous post (I originally wrote “last post”, but a slow trumpet sounded in my head and I realised that has other connotations), some pointed out to me that I visit the supermarket a LOT.

I confess I hadn’t thought about this. But, perhaps because I live very close to Morrison’s, and not that far from Sainsbury’s either, perhaps because I have very little freezer capacity, and perhaps also because I don’t plan very far ahead, I am probably in a supermarket at least every other day. So my regular supermarket visits are not a result of coronavirus-related panic, but rather just the outcome of a permanent state of semi-disorganised food planning.

Is this a single-person thing? Or just me? It may be just me.

Today is my usual day off. I am accustomed to spending Tuesdays without much in the way of social contact, and some Tuesdays I don’t really leave the house anyway(!) so today probably won’t feel all that different.

The pre-Coronavirus Diaries

Tuesday, 10 March

I catch the bus into town, to meet a friend for lunch. Suddenly I am aware of every surface I’m touching – the handrails up the stairs, the button you press to ask the bus to stop, everything.

Looking out the window; no-one is wearing face masks. I wonder how long it will be before they appear.

I’m down for jury service next week. What happens if I contract COVID-19 before then? Will they accept my call-off over the phone? It’s not like I can produce a doctor’s note – I can’t visit my GP to get one, and I can’t leave the house to deliver it.

Which makes me think that the chances of people calling in and crying off (legitimately or not) jury duty might be quite high… I suspect the courts may grind to a halt soon, for this reason, if not just because everything seems to be being cancelled at the moment.

I have slowed down on my Easter egg consumption a little. With all the panic buying at supermarkets I didn’t want to rush through my supplies of essentials.

Wednesday, 11 March

I pay a visit to Morrison’s. They’re playing INXS on the in-supermarket radio. They have a better class of playlist at Morrison’s than your average supermarket. I applaud this, although all in all I would prefer if they had my favourite marmalade brands in stock, as I can get good tunes from elsewhere. But they don’t. I consider writing to the management. 

I speak to my Sister on the phone, in the process reintroducing myself to voice calls, which are a long-forgotten friend, and limbering up for when I might be needing them on a daily basis.

“Have you got enough turmeric?” she asks, with a concerned note in her voice.

I hadn’t even thought about that.

But it’s all a little academic, as I need milk for my turmeric milk, and milk won’t last 14 days. Unless I was in America.

We discuss more prosaic matters, like toilet roll stockpiling. I discover that her household runs through two toilet rolls per day. TWO PER DAY. I am beyond flabbergasted. 

Here at OHFTC Towers, we are a much more toilet-toll efficient household. Perhaps we are not as regular.

My Sister reckons she keeps the cellar (which I like to think of as the Baileys Bunker) stocked up with enough of everything to keep the family going for at least four months, under normal circumstances. 

When I grow up, I want to be like my Sister.

Thursday, 12 March

I notice that the pile of pine nuts is getting a little low. And coffee. It might be time for another visit to Morrison’s. I don’t think there’s been a run on pine nuts just yet.

Friday, 13 March

I bump into a friend at Sainsbury’s. She is gazing at the handwash shelves, which are so depleted that her choice is restricted to Posh or Super Posh. I move on in search of more tins of tuna.

In the supermarket, and driving home, I see 5 people wearing face masks. All of them are Chinese/Oriental.

Here at OHFTC Towers we now have plenty of pine nuts and marmalade, easing concerns somewhat. We also have enough tinned tuna to sink a ship, and the usual amount of pasta, which should be enough.

Saturday, 14 March

My regular coffee shipment arrives. Hurrah. I pop back to Morrison’s, and stock up on cereal, which I rarely eat. But you never know. I avoid All-Bran, as I feel it might deplete the Toilet Roll Stockpile somewhat.

It all feels a little surreal. I think it’s because I don’t actually know anyone that has contracted the virus. If and when that happens, I suspect it will become a little more real.

I am avoiding making any meals with tuna, which rules out about 40% of my usual weekly menu, on the basis that if I have to self-isolate I don’t want to be bored of it before I even begin.

I discover, via the BBC website, that the Italians are dealing with their enforced captivity quite beautifully. I suggest to Nicola that, after a couple of gins, she could do the same thing in Polwarth. She is working on a playlist as we speak.

Stay tuned, and stay healthy!

Easter Eggs and the Coronavirus

Well, dear reader, Easter is upon us, and so it must be time for another blog update, and maybe another change of bed linen. 

Just the other day I was speaking to a regular blog reader (not you, the other one) who was complaining that it was difficult to maintain their status as a regular reader, given there wasn’t much in the way of regular reading on my blog, and how much more enriched their life would be if I was to post an update more frequently. I’m paraphrasing there slightly. 

I do apologise to both of you.

But back to Easter. I’m not sure exactly how close it is, but it can’t be far off, as I’m now on my third Easter egg. I began with a Rolo one, followed it up with a Kit Kat, and now I’m onto the Creme Egg. I’m aiming to keep up my current consumption rate of one full-size Easter egg per week, which is arguably a less traditional way to celebrate Lent, but I have a feeling it could catch on.

Although it’s fair to say it’s not normal for me to either set, or follow, trends. Usually I am swimming against the tide of popular culture. If you picture a poor-to-average swimmer doing a doggy paddle in a tsunami, you’ll pretty much have the idea. Except, perhaps, on those days when I decide to pay a visit to Ikea – on these days I seem to be fully aligned with the thinking of everyone else in Edinburgh. 

On my last visit there I was seduced by one of those oversized spherical light bulbs, with the glowing yellow filament. I brought it home and fitted it to the main light in my bedroom. On switching it on, I discovered it gives off about the same amount of light as one of those energy-saving lightbulbs before they’ve warmed up. Not terribly practical, really, and I can’t see a whole lot in there now, which means I have to rely a bit more on muscle memory for tasks like changing the bed linen, but I do feel pretty hipster.

The onward march of Coronavirus was all the talk in the office today. Having survived a ski trip to Northern Italy in January, I caught a cold on my return to the UK. Googling “symptoms of Coronavirus” momentarily brought cause for alarm, as I realised I was suffering from almost every single symptom listed , but on closer inspection I realised I had landed on the Daily Mail’s website, and I de-escalated the alarm accordingly.

I aim to stave off the virus with a health-conscious diet of plenty of turmeric milk and regular Easter eggs. I think that should just about do it.

Stay healthy, Britons, and don’t forget to wash your hands thoroughly while singing “Happy Birthday” twice through. That should do the trick, apparently…