Living in a Lockdown
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| A very quiet yard on a beautiful sunny day. |
I was watching BBC’s Saturday Kitchen a few weeks ago when Stacey Dooley was the guest. The host Matt Tebbutt asked her how she was feeling during the Covid-19 lockdown and she replied “I am spot on, it is a bit worrying about how OK I am with self-isolating, because I am quite anti-social, so I’m good.” I was a bit shocked, not because she was coping, but because she said she was anti-social. I guess I had the same look on my face, as others have when I say “I’m quite happy during lockdown because I’m pretty anti-social!”
People often don’t believe me when I say I am anti-social,
but I do prefer the company of animals to the company of people and I even find
my own company tolerable. I do feel a
tidal wave of guilt wash over me when I make the mistake of reading Twitter and
seeing how many people are not coping with this situation, but then I have had
a lifetime of practice of sitting in a garden entertaining myself (usually
teddy bear picnics or reading, or dangling over the garden pond watching the
frogs and fishes and whatever wildlife decided to turn up. I’m not lucky enough
to have the large garden of childhood anymore, but my small back garden allows
me to get fresh air and pootle about and sit and watch the abundance of birds
and bees around me. I cannot imagine how it feels to be stuck in a flat,
especially with young children for weeks on end, with no outdoor space to sit
and reflect in.
But lockdown is still infuriating when you want a change of
scene, a quick trip to the ocean, or a wander in the mountains. I have both available
a short drive away…but I can’t do that, it’s the same rota of visiting the
supermarket (once a fortnight) going on a rare walk (and I mean rare) working,
reading, pottering in the greenhouse and vacuously watching TV.
“There is something majorly wrong with
your work laptop…”
The day lockdown started I was sent home with my laptop and
told to work from home. Easier said than done as I.T. couldn’t get my work laptop
to work from my house. Hmmm….maybe I can spend the next few weeks sitting on my
backside doing what I want…try and locate the photography course I bought three
years ago and do it, or maybe learn some Photoshop so I can finish those
designs I have in my head and get them on my Redbubble store which is sadly
very neglected. Or… alternatively the I.T. department could get the software
which wouldn’t work on my work laptop onto my personal laptop and get me up and
running on that instead. Well of course, good ole I.T. got it to work on my
laptop! In hindsight I’m thankful the antiquated piece of rubbish from work was
a no go, as my laptop has a larger screen (and a touchscreen) so not only could
I see more easily, tapping the screen instead of scroll and click was also
quicker. Sadly, unlike MPs, I couldn’t convince my boss to give me an extra
£10K for having to use my own laptop for work (or any other subsidies that MPs
wangle for themselves.) Have I missed going into work? Yes and no. I miss
seeing the friendly faces and the yard cats, especially Bob, but I haven’t missed
the daily histrionics that used to occur.
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| Bob the yard cat. |
At work if I make a brew, I stand around chatting to people
(it is after all a portacabin with limited floor space.) At home, I’ll put the
kettle on and put a load in the washing machine or put the dishwasher on. Next
trip to the kettle I’ll empty the dishwasher and put the washing on the line.
Next-time, maybe give the kitchen floor a quick clean. My house has never been
cleaner and tidier, and the irony is not lost on me that for the first time in
20+ years, my house is always visitor ready…AND I CAN’T ALLOW ANYONE THROUGH THE
FRONT DOOR!!!! So not only could I get more office work done – but I also kept
on top of the daily house chores.
First day back in the office I realised that I had lost my daily
48 min lie-in. I normally leave the house at 7:48 to be in the office for 8. In those 48 mins I shower, dress, have
breakfast, throw lunch in a box and head out the door. For 6 weeks I’d been
getting up at 7:48, ambling downstairs, making breakfast and sitting at my desk
ready for an 8am start. I am not naturally one of God’s morning people and
sitting at a desk in my pyjama’s was lovely…until the boss thought it a good
idea to install Microsoft office instead of just phoning me with queries.
Fortunately, there was the option to switch the camera off so I could see him
and not vice versa! The argument for working at home was a win win for me.
I’ve slipped into some strange time
vortex…
But it wasn’t all plain sailing working from home. I thought
if I was cooped up in the house for several weeks, I would devote some time to
blogging and my various other hobbies. It seems however that I slipped into
some strange time vortex. My days have just been filled with work – especially at
the beginning as I had to devise a whole new way of working. Everything that had
previously been done physically – reams of paper printed off, physical
signatures sought for work and costs to be agreed, all had to change, and
quickly. I’ve had to document everything
and save it in electronic files – which has meant sorting and archiving the unused
mass of files that were on the system. Spreadsheets had to be set up to track
what went where and whether a reply had been received. Emails started to be
filed as an audit trail to prove agreed costs so arguments about budgets couldn’t
rear up in the future. All that time devoted to establishing brand new systems
and disseminating the new system to other users takes time…and so once done the
laptop was put to bed. No blogging. No playing around in Photoshop. No laptop. Instead
the workspace closed and it was time to read a book or sink in front of the TV.
To be honest, it has been nice sitting around catching up on
stuff and not feeling guilty about what I SHOULD be doing. I’m not sure WHO
decides what I SHOULD or SHOULDN’T be doing, but it seems an unnecessary burden
I put on myself, although I’m sure many others must do it to themselves too. I
have caught up on several films and box sets on Netflix and Prime that I’ve had
stored for ages and not got around to watching.
First on the Covid-19 watch list was The Man in the High Castle
(all 4 series over a period of nights and nothing else in between.) I wasn’t
sure whether I’d enjoy it, the only reason I put it on my watchlist was because
it starred Rufus Sewell and he’s up there on the list of people I’m likely to
start watching a programme because of who is in it. Fantastic show – must have
been for me to have binge watched it as I did.
Unbelievable
was an interesting watch – it was the true story of a rape victim who wasn’t
believed, however, I read that the person the story was about had watched the
program and thought it was well produced and reflected accurately the events
which took place. On that basis, I watched it and it was a fascinating story of
how a young woman accused of lying about a rape, gets discovered by two female
detectives who are investigating a spate of eerily similar attacks across
America.
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| 2018 - BBC/Netflix Watership Down |
Watership
Down – the new version the BBC showed over Christmas 2018…yes it
has been sat recorded on my Sky box that long and only just viewed. I was wary
that it would be turned into a saccharine Disneyesque type film but no. I
thoroughly enjoyed it (despite sobbing through half a box of tissues.) It
certainly didn’t leave me traumatically scarred like the original 70’s version
I watched as a child at school. In fact, thinking about it, I’m surprised I
made it through childhood without needing to obtain some form of
therapy…Watership Down, Tarka the Otter, Bambi, Black Beauty…no wonder I grew
up preferring animals to people.
The
New Pope. Disappointed. Really enjoyed The Young Pope – thought
it a fresh and exciting programme. I found this sequel slow going and I kept
getting distracted whilst watching it…although I still persevered to the end!
The
Stranger. Based on Harlan Coben’s novel, a stranger tells
someone who thinks he has the perfect family life a shocking secret. This
secret exposes a dangerous set of lies as the truth starts to be uncovered.
This was another binge watch series where once an episode finished, I just HAD
to watch the next one. Bed just wasn’t an option.
Carnival
Row. Hmm this was a peculiar one! A love story of sorts between
a human detective and a refugee faerie. Following a war in which their
homelands are invaded by man, an increasing number of mythological immigrant
creatures try to co-exist with humans. The creatures however have no rights,
they are forbidden to love or fly, and it is only when a series of gruesome
murders take place that we see some change in the intolerant society. It was
obviously a thought provoking watch as well as an entertainment series, the way
in which immigrants are treated and of course why they are immigrants seeking
refuge in the first place. (It was also nice to see some of the Czech Republic
locations used again where The Musketeers had been filmed. It made me want to
watch the three series again as I haven’t watched them since they finished on
the BBC…but rewatching things are not a priority at the moment, I want to watch
all the new productions I have waiting for me on my laptop first!)
I started to watch Picard however, other-half is a Star Trek
“fan” and was surprised I’d want to view it seeing as I’ve paid no interest to
any of the other incarnations he’s watched. Have had to break the news that
it’s because Santiago Cabrera is in it (met him once at the theatre when I went
to watch The Deep Blue Sea – what a lovely chap he is, we spent the interval
talking about his son) so it’s become one of those shows we watch together and
I can’t whizz through.
So when you add up the time spent on these, other
productions I haven’t mentioned and perennial favourites such as The Great British Sewing Bee
which has made a welcome return…it’s a wonder that I haven’t developed square
eyes.
Madness takes it toll…
But then, in another dimension, there are the days when time
stands still in lockdown. It refuses to budge. Melancholia sets in as the
reality of not being allowed to jump in the car and drive to the beach or the
RSPB reserve hits home. In England, recommendations were given about
exercising. In Wales, a number of those recommendations were put into law. At
the start of lockdown, I went for a walk. I did the same route down the old
abandoned railway line I’ve done countless times before.
Over the past few years,
I have hardly ever met anyone out whilst walking – but for some reason, this
knowledge didn’t put my mind at rest. I was sure I’d end up bumping into loads
of people and getting arrested. An irrational fear, undoubtedly, but the Heddlu
(police) were out in force – in cars, on foot, in the police chopper. Far less
stressful to stay sat at home, which is why I have spent too much time watching
TV or reading or working. I just don’t have the inclination to go out as much anymore
in case I meet people on “my” routes; as routes which used to be quiet, are
where people now congregate.
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| Tidy, tidy shelves!! |
One day, I felt I should do something productive with my
time and for some hairbrained reason, it took the form of sorting one of my
messy bookcases. THREE HOURS it took me to put the books in some semblance of
order and then get them all to fit back in the cupboard. (Other half
“helpfully” suggested a binbag. Other half has been told to keep his
suggestions to himself.) I was going to tackle the other one under the stairs,
but at twice the size, I’ve decided a better plan is to just keep opening the
door to shove books in without looking until the door will no longer shut. When
that happens, I will concede defeat and tidy it up.
I have gone through a spate of cleaning, even the tea
cupboard has been tidied out. I’ve found some unopened teas I’d forgotten
about, but alas also noticed how many of the tins are now empty. This is very
depressing – I need to go visit some tea shops when all this is over and
re-stock big time.
Fortunately the drinks cabinet has fared a little better
(although I did cheat and buy several bottles of gin in March) this was a good
thing because most nights after work the wind down became a G&T rather than
the drive home singing (screeching) out of tune to the radio. I suppose going
back to the office is good news for my liver. Silver linings and all that!
In this rush to return to normal life, we
should use this time to reflect what normal parts of life are worth rushing
back to.
One thing I have been very blessed to do over these last few
weeks is to spend an afternoon sitting on my drive with a brew, chatting to my
neighbour who sits on her drive and does the same. No contact, just the
opportunity to sit and have a natter. Before lockdown we started going to
camera club each week; as well as a chance to learn about photography, it was
an excuse for the pair of us to catch up with one another. With club activities
on lockdown, it was nice to create a new sense of normal, and once we all go
back to work, it’s something I’ll miss doing.
This weekly catch up has brought about a newfound enjoyment
in baking. When I worked in a large office we would have “Bake Off competitions”
for charity. Whilst I loved watching the programme, it never really inspired me
to bake, it was just something I did when I needed to do it. My mum taught me
to bake at a young age. I think we often reminisce with rose tinted spectacles
and I had this grand vision my mother was a wonderful cook. It was only
recently that my brother, who is several years older than me, told me she was a
dreadful cook. She was good at baking, but dire at cooking.
I was reminded of her gastronomic repertoire…Sunday roast,
Monday leftovers, Tuesday more leftovers and a fight over the bone, Weds/Thurs
something from the freezer with homemade chips, Friday, yellow fish with mash,
Saturday – sausage, egg and chips. Sunday the repertoire would begin again! I
remember her stew and dumplings being very, very chewy, I had no recall ever of
meat being tender enough to fall apart in the mouth. Wonder if that had
something to do with me becoming a pescatarian?!
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| Garlic and Rosemary Foccacia |
She was, however, a good baker and I do remember standing on
a stool next to her, pummelling bread dough and making mini cottage loaves. She
would come into my infant school and teach us all how to make and ice fairy
cakes, or make scones and shortbread. By the age of twelve, when she departed
this earth, I had the ability to bake bread, cakes, even pies…however, despite
a plethora of cookbooks in the house, baking has never become a regular
activity. During lockdown however, I set myself the challenge that if I had
done the fortnightly shop and I’d run out of bread…I would have to bake some
until my next scheduled trip to the shop. If I fancied a pie, I would have to
get off my backside and make some pastry…if I wanted to “meet” my neighbour for
tea and cake…I’d have to get that mixing bowl out, and it has been an
unexpected delight. The offerings, which may need a bit more practice, have
been on the whole far tastier than the factory made stuff I buy and I hope that
this baking malarkey remains a “normal” in my post lockdown life.
Our theatres, especially our smaller
venues, are going to need people more than ever before…
I know a lot of people, including some of my friends, are
suffering out there and finding this confinement hard to deal with. Sometimes
it’s hard to connect, because however hard you try, a video chat with someone
is never going to be the same as the real thing. On a video link you feel
compelled to talk – but if you’re not going out or doing anything exciting,
what do you talk about? TV? Life in lockdown? What is a comfortable silence
when you’re at a friend’s house, suddenly becomes amplified and a bit unnatural.
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| Frankenstein performed @ Theatr Clwyd |
One Thursday, a friend suggested that we went to the theatre
together like we used to do. We were both supposed to be visiting Manchester to
see a play in a few weeks. Instead we both sat down with a drink and watched NT
at Home on YouTube - Frankenstein with Benedict Cumberbatch as the monster. We
WA each other as the play progressed sharing our thoughts on it. We also had an
interval at 8pm to clap essential workers, grab a choc ice and a comfort break
and take our seats for the second act! I suspect the fact that we were on WA
during the performance suggests that neither of us were grabbed by the
production.
For me, I don’t think it had anything to do with the fact I was
watching a play with me feet up, my slippers on and a cup of tea in my hand,
but more to do with the fact that I’d finally just finished writing up my blog
notes for the production of Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein which I had seen at
Theatr Clwyd in January. In that play I was captivated from the very beginning;
in this one I got fed up of watching the monster writhing about the stage for
20 minutes. There’s slow burn…and then there’s slow burn. I perhaps need to
watch the second version where the role of the monster is played by Jonny Lee
Miller before sharing any further thoughts, especially as I know so many people loved the
production.
It was enjoyable to have the opportunity to be “back at the
theatre” and to discuss, albeit briefly, what I was watching with a fellow
friend and theatre lover. OK – so it wasn’t the same as leaving the theatre and
heading to the bar (or the chippy) to unravel our thoughts, but it was better
than nothing. Normally I only watch parts of a play on the laptop if I’ve been
to see it and I need reminding of something I can’t remember fully before doing
a write up. I don’t tend to watch the productions I have because I’m not
getting that full theatre experience and so I’ve been wary of lying prostrate
on the sofa, crisps and drink in hand as though I’m at the cinema. On
reflection, this is a stupid reaction, I couldn’t travel to London every two
minutes before Covid-19, so would visit the cinema to see a NT Live production…surely
watching it on the small screen is the same as the big screen? Not exactly…in a
cinema you still get an audience reaction from those sat around you, which is
why it’s often nicer watching a film at the cinema than at home…if you don’t have
an annoying chatterbox sat next to you!
TV theatre will never feel the same as being IN a theatre,
watching a live show and seeing THAT production unfurl before your eyes –
because with theatre, every performance is unique, the recorded version will
always be the same however many times you watch it. It seems strange that it
has become the norm for people to sit on the sofa watching a play (or opera or
ballet) on the TV. It is heartening to see how many people are watching the
various streams which have become available and the joy it is bringing to
people who are finding times in lockdown hard. It is interesting how much the
various art shows have brought the best out of people, I just hope that if this
initiative has brought new audiences to the fore, that they will continue to
support the arts long after lockdown. Our theatres, especially our smaller
venues, are going to need people more than ever before, as can already be seen
by the unfortunate announcement that Nuffield Southampton Theatres has gone
into administration.
When lockdown was announced, I still had tickets for four
shows at Theatr Clwyd…as each one was cancelled, I received an email offering
me a refund, leaving it as a deposit towards future shows, or to give as a donation.
The cost of all the tickets was donated. I wanted to help futureproof “my”
theatre. I do hope those that were able, donated their ticket costs too,
holding onto the same view of keeping the theatre alive. Theatre is not just
about a bunch of actors entertaining you for a couple of hours; it is the heart
of a community, it brings people together, it teaches them things through
storytelling, it opens minds, it makes people question what goes on around them.
If you love your theatre, you’ll look after it whatever way you can and I hope
its use in helping people get through lockdown will be remembered and appreciated
in the times to come.
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