The Lockdown Diaries

[San Bernardhinault]

Laverte's diary is just stunning writing.

[Uncle Ethan]

I am in awe of both Laverte and Balderdasha. When do we reach the point where the latter sends herself newsletters demanding ridiculous dress up days or fundraising, as per the normal schools her children attend?

Despite keeping up with family in the UK via Facebook this thread has brought home just how intense the lockdown is there.

[Sporting]

Not as intense as here, though (he says with some "You don't know you've lived!" pride.

[imp]

I'm finding it unbelievably hard to get anything done, despite now having theoretically unlimited time. The only daily achievement is getting the groceries in and cooking a meal. Last night was cauliflower and Chinese mushroom stir-fry. I don't know if it's the vegan diet or The Times We're Living In, but we're all having intense dreams through the night. I'm sleeping well, but waking up knackered and yawning over breakfast already. Can't get motivated to go out running. Can't get motivated to write, so I spend ages pissing about on Twitter and checking the Washington Post web site five times a day in the genuine hope that something unthinkable has happened to the 45th president. When I try to do my French 'homework', I invariably fall asleep or can't focus.

So I've now unearthed the box marked 'Aunt *****'s Love Letters.' My dad's cousin gave him these in 2016 when we were visiting her in Scotland, thrusting the M&S ice-cream box into his hands just as we were about to drive off. He didn't know what they were or why she gave them to him, and she hadn't previously mentioned them. It turns out they were letters sent to his aunt (his mum's sister) in the 1930s and 1940s. "Four different men," he told me, "and none of them were her husband." He felt uncomfortable reading them, and passed them on to me after only opening up a few. I've now finally started reading them properly and am separating the letters into four different piles, and the four different personalities are starting to emerge. Of course there's no correspondence from my great aunt's side, but it's not hard to build up a picture of what's going on - basically, while the men are off in various parts of Britain and the world serving in the armed forces, she's playing tennis, gadding about town and fielding their often passionate advances by letter. The writers profess their love in different ways, but also their frustration - several times they let her know what a bitch she's acting like (they use the actual word), but they love her anyway. They beg her for a picture of herself, but so far not a single writer has said, "Thanks for the picture!" So she's not delivering on even that paltry request. When they come to town on leave she stands them up or acts all cold, but occasionally seems to reciprocate some emotions, prompting effusive new declarations from the departed lover, now distant and pining with loss and desire. There's one correspondent who senses that he's getting to be a bit much and apologises for going on and on about his love for her. Which he definitely needed to do.

I used to visit this great-aunt in the early to mid-80s in Lanark, a town she stayed in her whole life. She married and had one child - the cousin who gave my dad the letters, and who also still lives in Lanark (married twice, no children - once divorced, recently widowed). As a teenager I found the great-aunt highly entertaining - she was suitably scandalised by everything in the modern world, an armchair philosopher over high tea whom my dad would describe, not completely without affection, as having "spent her whole life sat on her arse". When my sister went to see her, she'd get whisky in the afternoon - my sister was 18 at the time. It would have been nice to have seen the letters at the time - needless to say, I have a stack of questions that will never be answered. Although the destiny of one suitor, a squadron leader and doctor and a lush (in every letter he describes getting wasted, and how much he drank), is clear - among the letters is his death notice, killed in a car crash in Yorkshire in 1950, aged 34. By that time, she would have been married (I never met her husband - he died before I was born, I think). She took to her bed in the late 80s and died from the causes of alcoholism.

Not sure what to do with them aside from preserving them as part of the family archive. Period novels are not really my thing, and I don't have the skills to put myself authentically into the persona of someone like my great-aunt in 1930s Scotland.

Here's a priceless snippet. Bill - a poetic banker in Glasgow, the only one of the four not serving his country - has obviously received a critical missive from his lover, so counters, "If you feel that I represent 'illiteratness' (try illiteracy) then why not practice your first principles of Christianity: help those less fortunate. Construct rather than destruct!"

[elguapo4]

That's brilliant IMP, it's always interesting to look back at the previous generation, and peer behind the curtain. The only thing my mother said about dating my Dad is that he asked her out straight after she ditched someone else. I sometimes thought that the someone else was one of my schoolteachers, who was in the same music and dramatic society as my parents, and, looking back, used to fawn over my mum at parents meetings.

[imp]

Old letters, old diaries, old newspapers, old maps - I'm entranced by them all. Part of me wishes I'd known what an archivist was when I was 18 and I'd have chosen a different path in life.

New development - there may be a fifth lover. It's a short, unsigned note in a handwriting that I can't connect to any of the four others. It sounds as though the writer is backing out of a plan to elope. "The flesh is willing but the spirit is weak. Please destroy enclosed when you have read it or treat it as stuff entre nous. I trust you always." Well, dude, you shouldn't have done that because your secret's out now and it's on the internet.

[Balderdasha]

Day 13. Wednesday 1st April.

So last night, it no longer became possible to ignore the state of our freezer. It has a crappy door seal which means that ice gradually builds up to the point that the door pops open by itself and everything defrosts. Obviously, this is less than ideal in current circumstances so after the kids had gone to bed me and my husband tackled the fun job of defrosting. Switch freezer off, unload all food into freezer bags, scrape as much ice off as possible with bread knife, scoop ice into tupperware pot to dump into sink, put two saucepans of boiling water into freezer to melt remaining ice, scoop out again, mop up any remaining water with a towel, restock freezer, switch back on. Took about two hours. While the ice was melting we watched half an episode of Tiger King, which is the most entertainingly batshit documentary I've ever seen.

All this meant I was quite late to bed, so my husband agreed I could have a lie-in this morning. My daughter has been banned from playing on the Nintendo switch by herself at the moment (fall-out from "smiley face sofa gate") so instead she got up and started on her schoolwork. Now, this is great, except that when my daughter really concentrates she can burn through days' worth of set work in about an hour. She did all of today's work (comprehension about growing sunflowers) and then ploughed through tomorrow's as well (learning about compass directions).

I was fast asleep when my daughter came and woke me up shouting "daddy needs help, my brother's done a poo on the lounge carpet". I was out of bed and halfway down the stairs before I remembered what day it was, but decided not to spoil the surprise and still went to the lounge where they all gleefully yelled "April Fool's"! So, they got me this year, saved me having to think up a prank.

My sister-in-law kindly bought my daughter a year's subscription to national geographic kids magazine as her birthday present last year. We entered all the online competitions from this edition and then read through all the silly quizzes (which animal would you be? What type of princess adventure would you go on? Etc).

I did my daughter's hair, then let the kids do my hair while I sat on a stool and read an abbreviated version of Alice in Wonderland. It has far more of a court case than I remember at the end and we ended up having a discussion about how judges and juries work.

We had a pork joint getting close to expiry date so my husband made another roast lunch. Today my son deigned to eat Quorn roast fillets as well as Yorkshire puddings and we had apple strudel and ice cream for dessert.

After lunch, I folded laundry while the kids watched Team Umizoomi (maths puzzle cartoon that they love) and then I took the kids out on a walk, this time to post letters and on to a local nature reserve. We took the litter picker with us again and picked up a full bagful just on the road to the park. We went past a bit of scrubby woodland that must be used by drunkards as it was packed full of cans, bottles (beer and wine). Much to the kids' fascination we also found a woman's knee-high leather boot (they are so innocent that for them the only connotation is of someone then hopping home. I hope that it's only drunken tomfoolery, not evidence of an assault) and a broken yellow plastic fire hydrant sign.

The nature reserve is lovely. I'll definitely take the kids there again. It's river and marshland. Wide open vistas where I can see far enough that the kids can run quite wild as long as there's no-one walking nearby. That's refreshing after nearly two weeks of making them walk close to me and far from anyone else. We found a tree with a sort of den inside it and ate our fruit snack inside. Read the signs about the different wildlife the area supports. Walked back home along the river, pausing briefly to admire a cat up a tree, which another mum told us had got up there by chasing a rat.

Back home, my daughter had a video call with two of her friends and I did some stickers with my son to stop him bothering her.

Then we played Animal Crossing. Now that it's a new month, there are all sorts of new things. Easter eggs to collect around the island and new seasonal insects and fish to catch (locusts, dragonflies and clownfish for a start).

Made spaghetti hoops on toast for the kids for dinner, and I'm now having half an hour in a quiet room while they watch TV.

[ursus arctos]

Man that takes me back

We had a similar freezer before we left for Europe and episodically engaged in the same routine

[Balderdasha]

Never a dull moment here. Since writing that post my mother-in-law rang to say her neighbour's been diagnosed with Covid-19 (ambulance came to the house yesterday but was advised to stay at home for the time being) and that my mother-in-law herself has a sore throat and temperature but "she's fine". After handing phone over to my husband, my son then fell backwards off a chair and bumped his head on the wall. No harm done but I had to scoop him up and carry him out of the room hurriedly before my mother-in-law would panic about him crying.

We then watched the first half of Ponyo with home-made popcorn. Netflix has drastically reduced quality, to the extent that even the children notice it: "why is it so fuzzy?" But I'm still grateful it exists at all.

[Balderdasha]

Day 14. Tuesday 2nd April.

Woke up abruptly with the realisation that I forgot to take the recycling bin out last night (I used to take it out after my now non-existent slimming world session on a Wednesday evening). Threw clothes on, ran downstairs and dragged the bin out to the kerb. Examination of neighbour's bins revealed I was fortunately in time. With garden and food waste bins no longer being collected, I can't afford to miss the recycling or general waste collections.

The kids were having a bit of a lie-in after chattering into the wee small hours last night. I ate half a leftover tin of spaghetti hoops for breakfast and made tea with the longlife soya milk. The local farm rang later in the day to confirm tomorrow's delivery so hopefully that will work and I won't have to go to a shop for milk.

Once the kids were up, we did half an hour of cosmic kids yoga (polar bear themed today) and half an hour of ringfit adventure. The postman delivered my daughter's toucan box (kids monthly craft kit, worth it during lockdown, especially with a half price voucher). We'd been waiting for it for two days since her brother's was delivered. The boxes contain four activities with full instructions and materials and an activity magazine. So for today's table activity we made Easter bunting. A very satisfying craft activity requiring drawing, watercolour painting, cutting, sticking and threading. Occupied the kids for a full hour.

Fish fingers, veggie fingers and chips for lunch. Watched a bit of TV. Daughter did Arabic with daddy while I read "Dear Dinosaur" and "Peace At Laast" to my son. He has much better concentration for books these days which makes reading with him snuggled on the sofa a real joy.

Bit of a struggle getting the kids ready and out of the house in a hurry before my husband had a work call, but we just about made it in time. Did a different route to another park, with litter picker in tow again. Highlights today were an old green dog frisbee and a half disintegrated traffic cone which we spent ten minutes gleefully jumping up and down on to smash it into small enough pieces to fit in my bin bag. A woman walking past stopped to thank us for clearing up litter which was nice. Ate our snack in a community garden with a lovely mosaic and a friendly black cat. Saw a whole family wearing face masks. Realised we'd be walking past a friend's house on the way back so I rang them and they came out to the top of their road and we waved and shouted across the road. Saw a few more rainbows in windows to add to our total.

Back home my daughter had requested hotdogs for tea because that's what she eats at school on a Thursday. No hot dog rolls available, so this morning, my husband put a load of French bread on to bake in the bread maker. Yum.

Kids playing Animal Crossing with their dad now. They just caught a zebra turkeyfish. Is that a real animal?

[Amor de Cosmos]

It snowed this morning when I was out with the dog. Prompting comments on the lines of "what else can happen!" from other early morning ramblers. Still trying to deal with my case of identity theft mentioned in another thread. Trying to notify credit bureaux is numbingly frustrating. Like other organisations they're running reduced hours and reduced staff, which means ages in a telephone tree with options that don't include what I'm calling about. Went shopping for the first time since last Friday. Lots more in the stores, even managed to snag toilet paper! Few people about, a good thing. Many more wearing masks, though we've been told time and again by government medical officials they're of little use. People are scared.

[White No Sugar]

Day 27.
Finally did home haircut, number four all over. I’d recommend it as it’s a lot of fun first time out. Which will certainly wear off. First shave for four weeks as well. Baked my first bread.....or rather filled the bread maker up with stuff then switched it on under the watchful eye of Mrs WNS. Taxman informed me of size of 18/19 rebate, good timing. Mowed lawn. The cat ate most of a mouse in the garden, he had his back to window so wasn’t sure what he was doing. Most houses round here have sheds, shoffices or summerhouse type outbuildings and he’s been hanging around a few of em lately. We’re presuming we now know why. First of two eBay jigsaw puzzles arrived. Ordered timber for shed repairs and cable for house rewire. Forgot to order paint. Still dont know if my asthmas considered serious enough to not leave home. It’s a full life.

[imp]

I've now read all my great-aunt's love letters, and I'm going to miss her eager correspondents. Except for Alge. Alge's every letter, in both senses, reveals him to be simultaneously a tiresome, lovelorn sap, but also a control freak and - it turns out - a bit of a jealous psycho. There's two letters from a guy called Jon (identified suitor number six - there are also two unsigned letters in different handwriting, so possibly eight men altogether), and in the second one he reveals how Alge (ironically referred to as "our mutual friend") socked him one after they'd walked my aunt home the previous night. He'd had one hand in his pocket and the other was lighting a cigarette when the blow came, so couldn't even defend himself. He was about to go to hospital with a suspected broken jaw. We never hear from him again, so he was presumably scared off, and Alge never refers to the incident. Maybe my great-aunt was impressed.

Alge, though, disappears off the scene after two intense years spanning approx. 1933-35. I hope she dumped his sorry ass. Sadly, there are no wailing break-up letters, which is a shame as I'd loved to have heard him grovel to be taken back. But who knows, maybe he found a new woman down south - his constant proclamations of eternal love are so over-the-top that I find them hard to take sincerely, and I suspect that my great-aunt did too. In one letter he more or less proposes, but that's never mentioned again.

Terry, the lush WW2 suitor, mentions at one point my great-aunt's love of beer, so that's an early indicator of what killed her almost 50 years later.

There's a ton more fascinating content, and I'm wondering what to do with that. Possibly a cycle of short stories based on select passages as starting points. The remarkable thing is how few references there are to geo-political events. Only one referral in the whole pile of 100+ letters - to the Germans bombing Glasgow in autumn 1941, and how the correspondent's uncle had his windows blown out, "bringing it all a bit closer to home". That's it, the rest is all purely personal concerns. Maybe they thought pretty little things like my great-aunt shouldn't need to worry about the main events of the day.

[Eggchaser]

The fucking drain is backed up by the back door. Only four to eight hours until someone turns up and says, "That's not the water company's problem."

[imp]

Lockdown escalation - the other day they started putting scaffolding on the block of flats adjoined directly to us. Turns out they're building two new flats on to the top of the building. Right now they are removing the roof, and it's fucking noisy, sounds like they're about to drill through our wall. It's going to last 18 months, and our insane landlord, who has not helped us out once with any problem over the last five years (she always refers us to the company that manages the building, we end up sorting out/paying for any problems ourselves and then she ignores our invoices until we take it off the rent), did not even have the courtesy to inform us. I am in the middle of a typical WhatsApp exchange with her in which she avoids all responsibility, claims this is hitting her even harder (she has an art gallery on the ground floor, which is only ever open about twice a week) and deflects the blame onto the building management company. Then tries to tell me that in the time of the corona virus we should all be nice to each other. This time, though, we're going to get legal on her ass and apply for a rent reduction. I'm beyond livid - the noise is so bad you can not hear someone speaking above it at normal volume. Frau imp's had to come into my office to work, and even in here with the door closed it's loud.

[Balderdasha]

I am in awe of both Laverte and Balderdasha. When do we reach the point where the latter sends herself newsletters demanding ridiculous dress up days or fundraising, as per the normal schools her children attend?

Despite keeping up with family in the UK via Facebook this thread has brought home just how intense the lockdown is there.

Joe Wicks suggested a fancy dress PE session this morning. We blew raspberries in his general direction.

[imp]

"The fucking bake sale." ('Bad Moms' reference)

[Balderdasha]

Day 15. Friday 3rd April.

Fuck me, what a day. I'm going to have to write this in sections.

[Balderdasha]

Morning.

Husband had a 9am-11am webinar again, so I stocked the lounge and got the kids downstairs in time. They were tired so I let them bring down pillows and teddies and tucked them up on the sofas with blankets. We watched Blue Planet II and ate breakfast while we woke up (out of milk and bread so we had rice cakes with cream cheese, apple slices, raisins, orange juice, and dry alphabites cereal). Once fully awake we all got dressed and did half an hour of yoga (futuristic dog theme, of course) and half an hour of ringfit adventure. We've made it as far as world 7 now.

The local farm delivered our order. I think it was pretty good value. £41 for: 3 pints of milk, 6 eggs, a loaf of wholemeal bread, 500g macaroni, 500g penne, 500g conchiglie, 500g basmati rice, a veg box (1 big cauliflower, 1 turnip, 1 cabbage, 1 celeriac, 7 carrots, 3 parsnips, 5 onions, 6 potatoes, 4 beetroot) and a fruit box (9 bananas, 5 oranges, 4 apples). My husband thinks it's too pricey, but frankly at the moment, I'll take any half reasonable price that will deliver to my doorstep.

Cheese and pickle sandwiches and orange slices for lunch. The delivery also had the added bonus of coming in two large cardboard boxes that my kids could then decorate with sharpies and turn into pirate boats / cars.

[Balderdasha]

Afternoon.

The kids were getting restless inside so we went out for garden time. I put in a solid 90 minutes raking up autumn leaves and digging rampantly overgrown weeds out of the lawn. Every time I unearthed a good big root system the kids came and collected the worms from underneath for a worm hotel they'd created out of an old paint pot. They put soil and leaves and water in for the worms and made sure there were air holes for them to breathe. Two were named "Redstripe Pancake" and "Teeny Pushchair". Why? Who knows? The kids played on the seesaw and I taught them the "seesaw, marjorie daw" rhyme. They found the paddling pool pump and spent twenty minutes spraying air in each others' faces and creating an advert for selling air. "This is air TV, bringing you the freshest air, all the way from Mount Everest, mixed with the purest water and vitamins and minerals, it can even cure you from lung cancer." How do they come up with this shit??? They rode their bikes and played a real life version of Animal Crossing.

At 2pm, I headed into town to collect my son's inhaler from the pharmacy. It's a two-hour round trip journey. 40 minute walk. Half an hour queuing. 10 minutes in the pharmacy. 40 minutes back. I spoke on the phone to a friend of mine with two small children who has a chest infection (she claims to be sure it's not Covid-19) and whose husband is driving her mad by still going out to the shop every day. I think he probably needs it to keep him sane. Then I spoke to my dad and ended up exploding at him when he claimed, again, that the government was doing an excellent job and that the outbreak in the UK is unfolding exactly as he predicted. I may have shouted in the street that Boris Johnson is a genocidal murderer. To my dad's credit, he paused and said that we'd have to agree to disagree. We then found common ground by agreeing that the USA is screwed and Jared Kushner is an idiot.

I saw a local single mum that I know on the way back with her little girl in a pushchair. We chatted at a distance. It must be very hard being the only adult in a house with only one child with no playmates. She described it as 'very intense'. I told her about the local farm that does deliveries.

[Balderdasha]

Evening.

Back home with inhaler, scrubbed hands, binned the medical gloves I wore. It was one of my son's friend's birthdays today, so we recorded a happy birthday message for him. Watched my daughter's teacher reading two chapters of Martin's Mice. My husband's webinar from this morning had led to a request for more work so while I was exhausted and hoping he'd take over, he needed to carry on working. Made bunny ears for the kids from their toucanbox boxes. Cut holes out of the bottom of their cardboard pirate ships so they could stick their legs through and walk around with the boats round their waist. Then set them up watching Kung Fu Panda 2 and dragged myself off the sofa.

Cleared the kitchen, put the dishwasher on, stuck a pizza in the oven. Then decided to turn the beetroot from the delivery into a chocolate beetroot cake in the hope that I could sneak a vegetable into my son that way. Got as far as peeling the beetroots and chopping two before disaster struck and I sliced into my little left finger.

Nothing actually sliced off, no tendons or nerves severed as far as I can tell but it's a deep cut and it gushed blood. Now is a very bad time to go to A&E. Fortunately, my husband is very good with medical stuff. I washed it out then pressed the wound together and held it above my head while my husband raided our medical supplies. I have a full-blown medical kit from when I went hiking in the Himalayas. My husband put a rubber band round my finger to stop the blood while he cleaned it out with antiseptic, steri-stripped it, and taped it up with plasters and masking tape. I'm writing this as a self-soothing activity while I hold my left hand above my head and my husband re-dresses my little finger every ten minutes.

Kids have now eaten pizza, played ringfit adventure again and moved onto watching Worst Witch. Occasionally they come through to watch daddy's first aid and I grit my teeth and tell them mummy's finger will be better soon.

[Patrick Thistle]

Ouch. Hope that heals quickly Balderdasha

[scratchmonkey]

Yikes, glad to hear that there doesn't appear to be any major damage and you two have it well in hand. Crossing fingers that it doesn't require a trip out.

Highlights from our last few days in quarantine: my daughter stole a stick of butter from the fridge while my wife was taking a nap and I was getting the mail and then hid it in her room for a bedtime snack. I've done shirtless kettlebell swings in the backyard two days in a row under the theory that it gets me exercise and vitamin D, as well as possibly intimidating/frightening the neighbors. We've all become far too invested in Spike, the bearded dragon for my son's 4th grade classroom whom we are now taking care of seemingly in perpetuity. She has taken two explosively loud shits, once when we got her out to crawl about on the floor and then when we've tried to give her a bath.

[Sporting]

Your daughter eats butter on its own?

[S. aureus]

Boy, what a day.
Up to about 2.45 it progressed like most lately - mix of meals, snacks, teleconferences, doing a little other work, getting the kids to do their schoolwork, Joe Wicks, son doing school teleconferences, then taking the dog for a half mile walk around the hood.
Which is where disaster struck!
My son was on the scooter, and had a fall, scraping his knee and hand and injuring his wrist. When we got back home he was crying from the pain, which was disturbing as he's pretty stoic about such things (unlike my daughter who has a fit at the mildest inconvenience), though insisting that it wasn't broken or sprained. Had him ice it for 20 minutes, at the end of which he was still crying and claimed the pain was between an 8 and 9 (out of 10) - this was after having it laid down and motionless for the whole time. Went into the garage to take out my stress and frustration on an innocent couple of cardboard boxes, then called his doctor.
They told me to go the urgent care, but weren't sure if they'd let me in as I've had a (mild) cough for the last two days.
So, off we all went.
They stopped us outside, asked us about our health (do you have a cough, fever, chest pains, several other symptoms; have you travelled anywhere in the last 2 weeks, or been in contact with anyone who's been diagnosed with covid-19?). On finding out about my cough, sure enough they didn't let us in, but gave us a phone number to call when we got back to our car. The phone number was theirs, and they told us to go to a different urgent care clinic as they weren't accepting anyone with any respiratory symptons at all. Which is fair enough.
So, off we trouped to another place.
Once there we were stopped in the driveway, told to keep our windows up and asked (by sign) the same questions as earlier. We were then directed to the respiratory medicine section, which is currently located in the parking garage.
Here, again, we were not allowed to lower our windows or get out of the car, and told to call them on the phone. After going through my and my son's symptoms, we waited for a little until a spot freed up then I got examined first and told that my symptons were consistent with seasonal allergies, rather than a virus and otherwise everything seemed good. Then my son got examined and sent off to the garage's portable x-ray.
Here they determined that he has a broken wrist, and they put a splint on it, sent us on our way and told us to call tomorrow or Monday to arrange follow-ups.

The only good part of any of this is being told that the cough that I've been mildly worrying about is unlikely to be covid-related.
Otherwise my stress level is considerably higher than it was at 2.30 this afternoon, as now we've had contact with several more people, who have probably been in contact with people who actually do have covid, and we'll be having additional contacts over the coming weeks to deal with the broken wrist.