Day  1, March 26. Surprisingly a lot of traffic, and of course, power tools. 
We've been ready for the official lockdown for a long time. We've cooked dinners to freeze, bought one extra of dry  ingredients, (oh-so-much beans!), stocked up on loo paper and soap and disinfectants a little at a time, although some dinners and special  naughty treats have disappeared before we began. 
I also built a  list of Plague projects, which is completely silly because lockdown is  not changing my regular life. I can't go outside the house, into town,  see friends, and some say only one person is allowed even in the car  to go to the supermarket for one person to shop, 2m away, etc.  Ben being home all day, with lunch, we are eating better, so we'll  definitely need to devise some kind of an exercise regime.
Lockdown officially started at midnight last night. I was almost  elated yesterday because I could finally stop worrying we weren't doing it soon  enough. But today, there was no more preparation required, we have so  much food, and suddenly I was completely exhausted and needed a nap.
Ben's sticking to his regular routine. Good for him.
I  got some leftover cotton fabric so I can try making cloth masks. I might  try making some out of my cotton weaving samples as well; somewhere in  the stash room there are heaps more. Or continue trying to reorganize  the yarn stashes. Or work on a simple woodcut or lino print. Or, you  know, weed or weave.  
I've seen a lot of recommendation  for folks to keep a Plague diary. I'm not sure if/how I'm going to do  this, but for now I'll try to post a pic a day on Facebook just so I have something I  do daily. Which I don't have in my usual life. Interesting times.
Day  2, March 27. We had crazy weather today, blindingly sunny one minute,  roof-caving-in rain shower the next. I wanted to make the masks but the  kitchen, where I set up the sewing machine, was too dark even  with all the lights, so I continued cleaning the closet/stash room. Long  story; even longer process. Towards the evening the temperature dropped Ben wanted the first fire of the winter.  It's still March so it's the earliest in the 23 years in this house;  previous record was April 9, in 2009, which was still quite early.
Still an annoying amount of traffic noise including the airport, but I heard something in the late afternoon I hadn't heard in a long, long time; that overwhelming, thick, heavy, silence. It was almost scary the first time we "heard" it at a B&B somewhere in the country, Napier? all those years ago. Then every time we went into the country. But how long has it been since we last heard it? 
Have you noticed, now that we're all locked down, we are connecting  more with friends, and the connections are more deliberate? It's been  nice, hasn't it, even though I'll probably be more or less a hermit  still. I wish it wasn't a pandemic that unites us, and yet there is  something... ummm... not bad?? "Good"?? in the world fighting the same  thing together. Well, more or less together. If only we could do this  about the environment. And less traumatic world events. 
Day  3, March 28. Today my character was tested and I failed. I woke up  knowing I have reached Covid reading saturation. I was determined  to work on one of my projects. Or clean the house. Every lockdown achievement by friends almost depress me; they are getting so much done, their homes are getting tidier, cleaner, nicer, while the magnitude of my task in that department gets me down. 
But I first  did my usual round of Facebook checking, which takes longer these days,  among other reasons there is a local lockdown-related group where I find information in the comment section. It started because  as hard as the government tries, there are different ways to interpret  the rules; one of the most robust has been how far one can go for the  allowed daily exercise; if we can drive to where we will do the  exercise; how many minutes or km we can drive; and how many can be in  the car to go to such places. Members cite different government  sources, trying to find the latest announcements, but in the end it's up  to each person's interpretation. At times some become quite adamant,  claiming other are, "trying to kill my family," for e.g. Apparently  there have been more than a few older ladies who can be surprisingly  abusive and expletive by reports from young mothers with littlies upon  their return.  
Which lead me to think of how police states and  autocracy and similar come to power; how it's not only those at the top  taking away rights of the masses, but segments enforcing their  beliefs/interpretations on others. They may not be malicious, their  interpretations not incorrect, but it becomes their creed, and when  their adamance is louder, others, however numerous, sometimes cede. If  not already in existence, (and in today's "daily exercise" discussion,  there was,) there may emerge, just as boisterous, those at the opposite  end of the interpretation spectrum, and there we have the 21C  polarization. 
This kind of division won't be sanctioned in New  Zealand for now under Jacinda, but I couldn't help thinking she knows  history, and it wasn't only her predilection that made her repeat, "Be  kind". This situation will probably grow worse in the coming weeks  before we regain sanity. 
Instead of getting up to embark on some meaningful making, I wrote to friends, and watched more Covid how-to videos. How to sort grocery post-shopping vid was thoroughly depressing but friends say they do it, so I guess we must, too. I find myself frustrated/annoyed by countries/friends who are not in lockdown, even though New Zealand is a newbie.   
Meanwhile, Ben successfully installed the new loo tank upstairs, but  had to take some parts off the downstairs one. One loo for the two of us  until further notice. The weather was brilliant.
Day  4, March 29. Neighbour Kathryn left us dehydrated apples with a lovely  note on our outside steps. (The jar was full but Ben and I had some with  cereal in the morning, and I munched on some in the afternoon.) She  emailed me to say she also baked bread today. 
I had hoped to  work on a project later, but first I had to empty the linen closet so  Ben could go up to the roof cavity to leave rat poison.  This is an almost-annual Easter thing at #44. Afterwards, as I put  things back in, I wanted to cull the content, but found only four  Christmas ornaments to give to charity. Hanging Christmas/lockdown  lights might be fun, though. 
That, and a bit of laundry was  pretty much it for the day. I am wasting a good lockdown - the story of  my life. Tomorrow, projects. 
Day  5, March 30. I made three masks; they took forever and I'm "sew" bad at  it, but shall try at least three more to see if I can improve. Also  made coconut-macaroon-ish cookie-like "treat". Edible, delicious in fact, but  wet and wrinkly and ugly. I must stop using the stick blender extension  and use the magnificent whisk with egg whites; the blender can't achieve hard peak. 
I feel anxious about going to the supermarket after reading all the rules and comments sections, though not sure  which one of us will be delegated to go inside.  To delay our  shopping trip, we've been studying what we have on hand more carefully,  rationing fresh ingredients, using and eating slightly less. This is  good for our budget and weight; it's actually a good practice for  retirement if we can keep it up. Or down.
Day  6, March 31. Today I rant. (FB keeps loosing my rant, so this is the  short version.) I made three of these for Ben. I knew he would tell me  he prefers masks with wire for a better fit. I knew this these last  three days I worked on masks. But hey, Plague? Besides, it's Tardis?  Besides, how the Holy Hellebores do you wash a mask with wire in it? 
He hinted, even before we were out the door. You know, softly, with no malice. But he does this. He never wore one of my  first presents, a light, reversible green jacket, because the inside  was red. (He didn't wear girl colors back then.) He didn't wear the  first thing I made him, a navy corduroy shirt with small wooden buttons,  (not plastic pretending to be wood;) you wouldn't believe how hard it  was to find them; he prefers shirts with yokes. 
Don't get me  wrong. Ben and I do "being cooped up together" well; at times we seek  it. This is more to do with my relationship with my parents, where I  knew I was going to be (completely unjustifiably more often than not, or  for something infinitesimally trivial,) in trouble and I spent days and  weeks dreading it. That, and Ben's optimism one day I might step up?  Hasn't he learned I just suck at sewing? 
The poor guy is  exhausted from working longer hours than usual, and having a most  strange trip to the supermarket. He fell asleep on the floor. 
What a day. At once, like any normal day when we do our own things in different parts of the house, and yet... Plague.
Day  7, April 1. I made shrimp and lentil curry. Good thing I got in the  habit of very slow cooking a while back; it adds to the normality of my  life. I had planned for one last go making masks to finish what I've cut  already, but that didn't happen. One hand: we have enough, we don't go  out, and I'm not getting better at sewing one bit; other hand: these  will be nicer, making them keep me off the screen, and even  if the lockdown lasts for months, I won't have to do this again.  Theoretically. Oh, and Third hand: project idea: wearable "art" masks. 
Lockdown is starting to feel normal. It was bound to be, because it's  no different from all the days Ben worked from home; it just goes on  indefinitely. And not a bad thing, his office here gets ventilated, and the  huge work screen heats up the room instantly. For a while I worried we  were going to explode from eating better cooking all the time, but  neither of us are hungry much so two meals a day may become the norm.  Not a bad thing. 


2 comments:
My life has not changed much either, although I do miss my coffee 'dates' with friends. Some of them are having a Zoom meeting this afternoon, but I don't feel like it so I will go back to the loom. My Pandemic Towels I'm calling them, although I would have been making them anyway. Somehow making seems like an act of defiance in the face of an invisible threat...
I agree! For me, it's been cooking. The way I obsess with "having enough food ready" reminds me of animal documentaries where in face of grave danger, mothers grab pups/cubs and bring them back into their dens with great speed, something primal about having at least the food part of our life sorted. Also good not to join online parties if/when you don't feel like it, I say. There is much inside us all to re/discover and reward us. Happy weaving, Laura.
Post a Comment