Recently, on Twitter, I was made aware of the May 12th Mass Observation Project, which you can read about if you wish; it is quite lengthy but very interesting. Some of you may have read the book "Nella Last's War" adapted from Nella Last's diaries as Housewife 49 for this project, which began in 1937. Anyhow, I started to take part by writing my record of that day but have since decided to share my thoughts here. No photos on this one, just a day in the life of living in a global pandemic. May 12 happened to coincide with my rare grocery delivery day.
Tuesday, May 12th, 2020
I had been lightly dozing in the early morning daylight for some time when the alarm went off at 7:00 a.m. I turned over, thinking I might sneak an extra half hour. Then I remembered the virus, Covid-19, that is now an all consuming part of daily life across the world. "Tuesday", I said out loud, "It's Tuesday" for since Lockdown began two months ago I have got into the habit of telling myself what day of the week it is immediately upon waking.
I remembered the much needed and hard to get grocery order was being delivered between ten and eleven o'clock. Drat, no crafty lie in today. I struggled out of bed, cursing that I did not get a doctor's appointment for these aches and pains, presumably caused by the worsening of my arthritis, before Lockdown began. Like so many other things, it is on my long list of "I Wish I Hadn't Procrastinated".
Most of my mornings follow the same routine as they have done now for some time. I begin with prayer. I get up, washed, dressed, sit at the computer with a mug of black tea to check my emails and my Twitter account, moderating comments on my Blog, and generally waking up to what is going on in the world. I email my best friend Darlene as I do most mornings, and I fixed my usual breakfast, a bowl of porridge with blueberries and linseeds. My mind wandered off into the mire of the Coronavirus world in which we now live. I seldom think of anything else these days. Does anyone? I wonder how this happened; how it got so out of control; how will we ever get out of it? Will we ever get out of it? As someone with an underlying health condition, I wonder if I will ever live a vestige of the life that was normal just three months ago. The same questions billions of us across the world are asking hourly.
The telephone rang; it was my neighbour who was sharing this hard to get grocery order, asking what time it was coming, and did I happen to have any paper baking cases. I did. They, apparently, are one of the commodities in short supply, along with flour, yeast, sugar, eggs, pasta, rice and toilet paper. Why toilet paper was panic bought and is in short supply is a conundrum that will puzzle us for many years to come. I went to the kitchen to find the cake papers.
Online grocery deliveries are now difficult to book. My once easy weekly delivery is now about every three weeks apart, and takes a lot more planning with lack of availability. Many items are restricted to no more than three and I cannot order more than 80 items per order. As I order for my neighbour too this is not a lot to go around. So, I have to plan ahead, and I have learned to order, for example, a kilo bag of onions instead of four loose ones. A bag is one item, four loose ones is four items. I slice and freeze fresh fruit and veg to use over the coming weeks before my next order. This ensures I minimise waste and have enough to last until my next order. I have learned to write clear notes to the pickers, who are unsung heroes, so I don't get substitutions that I cannot use.
The worst part of all of shopping is having to disinfect it. Today was all about disinfecting. I have set up a disinfecting station in my back porch. The groceries were dropped off at my back door, and then the new routine began. I have learned you must do everything in order, so I put on an apron. I washed my hands. I gelled my hands with sanitising gel. I boiled a kettle and made a solution of hot water and disinfectant. I put on long rubber gloves. I opened the rubbish bin in the back yard by the door. I then looked to the bags and found the frozen and dealt with that one first, followed by the chilled. This involves emptying the bags into a big, shallow plastic pan inside my back door. The bag is immediately binned into the waiting rubbish bin. Working left to right, I take each item and wash with disinfectant then set it aside on a clean towel to dry. I remove my gloves and take the disinfected frozen shopping to the freezer. I wipe the freezer with disinfectant, then I put my gloves back on and work my way through the rest of the shopping.
Half way through, the phone rang. I had to remove my gloves and apron to go answer. I told the caller, British Gas, that it was not convenient as I was disinfecting my groceries. What a bizarre thing to have to say to anyone. I asked them to call later, wiped the phone with a disinfecting wipe, and I washed my hands, returned to my station, once more donning apron and gloves. I leave the phone off the hook.
Anything that comes in a cardboard packet, such as enveloped tea bags or taco shells, is wiped, then opened and contents decanted into a clean polythene box and the card put straight into the recycling bin. Lastly, I wash all the fruit and vegetables and dispose of any outer wrappings. Anything that I can leave sitting in isolation for up to three days is left alone. I then tidy up the area, make sure everything is properly disposed of, wipe surfaces down with disinfectant, and all towels used and my apron go into the wash at 60 degrees. Finally, I wipe down the outside of the washing machine and disinfect my rubber gloves and set them aside.
The order was a good one. I got almost everything, only two substitutions and only one item not available. So grateful to have my disinfectant, Dettol spray, and Dettol wipes at long last.
I wash and gel my hands again before phoning my neighbour who comes to collect her groceries. I carry the bags to the bottom of my drive, she comes and picks them up. We stay at least six feet apart and exchange pleasantries, although we speak every day on the phone. We comment on how long our hair is getting. We worry about our weight and our fitness. We go home and wash and disinfect our hands yet again. Later that day she will transfer the money she owes me directly into my bank account so we do not have to handle change, which could be contaminated with virus. I know!
The post has been delivered during all of the morning's activities. I go to my front porch where a small grey tray sits with a note requesting my post is put in the tray. There is a letter. Without touching it I spray it with Dettol spray and leave it to dry. I wash my hands again.
It all sounds excessive, but do I want to take a chance? No, I don't. Besides, if this virus is with us for the long haul, as I believe it is, we need to establish our good practice and habits to make them routine.
All of that took up the entire morning, and it was time for lunch. I put the phone back on the hook. I wash my hands.
As I knew I would be busy, I had ordered a pre made oven pizza. I was looking forward to it, but it was very disappointing. It was dry and the texture of cardboard and sawdust, with a scant, supposedly oven roasted, vegetable topping. Most unappetising but I ate it as these days wasting food is more scandalous than it has ever been.
My letter is now dry, so turn it out onto the step without touching it, spray the other side, and leave it to dry. I wash my hands.
I decide to watch the one o'clock news. To say it is worrying, depressing, and repetitive are understatements. I begin to wish I hadn't turned it on. I freshen my third mug of tea and settle down to watch my daily indulgence of "Neighbours". Since this virus began, we've been down to two episodes a week, but this week we are back to a daily showing.
As soon as the show begins, the phone rings! Darn it. British Gas again. They are suddenly taking my complaint over my new heating system seriously. I can't put them off, I can watch Neighbours on catch up later. It's not as if I am going anywhere. Thirty minutes later I come off the phone. My tea is cold, I drink it anyway.
I go to do my lunch dishes, the phone rings again. This time it's my cousin phoning to see how I am doing. We chat for an hour, exchanging our moans and groans about how life has changed. They are keeping well, and their son does their shopping for them, dropping it on the door and saying "hello" from his car on their drive. They have been left mid project with a small cloakroom conversion, so have holes in walls and other work related chaos.
I go back to my cold tea and top it up with hot water. This is getting ridiculous! I get a biscuit as it's now mid afternoon.
I have to phone my Godmother to pass on some news from my cousins, but before I can, another neighbour phones, a local man has died from Covid-19. It tears at my gut. My thoughts go immediately to his family and what they must now be going through. It is unthinkable.
My hot tea is cold again. I sit down anyway, and the phone rings yet again! British Gas, someone else, who now has questions. I get the feeling they are trying to wriggle out of selling me an inferior system. I fight back, I am in no mood for his patronising statements as he blames me not British Gas for the inadequacies.
By the time I hang up another hour has gone and my Godmother's phone call will have to wait until tomorrow now, for I am mentally drained.
I am in time to catch "Richard Osman's House of Games" to which I believe I am addicted. It's a daily dose of fun, mental gymnastics. I turn the oven on to heat up, I take the phone off the hook. I make a fresh mug of tea and cut a slice of the orange caraway seed cake I made two days ago. I sit down and enjoy the show, for thirty minutes I manage to forget the troubles of the world.
After the show, I put a vegetarian lasagne in to hot through. I made a small salad of tomatoes, cucumbers, onions and beetroot to have with it. I poured a glass of wine. I have not been drinking hardly at all since Lockdown began, but treated myself to a bottle of Shiraz today.
While my meal cooked, I went and watered my pots of salad crops and flowers outside. The seeds have germinated but this sudden cold snap has probably pushed them back.
I enjoyed my meal around 7:30 the cleared away the dishes and tidied the kitchen for the night. I sat for the rest of the evening trying to read and do a little cross stitch, but to no avail as I could not concentrate. I decided to watch the film "Hidden Figures". It's a super film about the role of vital importance played by women of colour in the NASA space programme, and I recommend it to anyone. It didn't finish until gone 11:30, by which time I was more than ready for bed. While the film was showing, I slathered my hands in rich, soothing L'Occitane shea butter hand cream, with a few drops of lavender essential oil added for extra soothing. Like so many, my hands are in ribbons from the constant washing and alcohol gel. I was yawing my head off as I prepared my hot water bottle, and dragged myself through my night time pre bed preparations, brushing teeth, asthma medications, prayers, and eventually snuggling down and drifting off to sleep.
So, my friends, a snapshot of a day during Lockdown. I hope you enjoy it. And don't forget to wash your hands!
Until next time,
Deborah xo
