ALONE AT CHRISTMAS: Diary Day 5
Newbury resident Caroline ffrench Blake describes spending the festive period on her own for the first time
Sunday, December 27
In the morning after Storm Bella had blown herself out, I went out in the sun to see if the saplings in Goldwell Park’s Lockdown Wood had survived without damage.
I had lain awake the night before listening to the storm, and wondering what all those storm winds were bringing to Newbury – they had to come from somewhere, and what if they were from America, bringing yet more coronavirus? Perhaps a new American version to add to the others? People are always recommending fresh air to blow away viruses, but who and where do they blow them to?
Although the daylight brought more rationality, my preparations for going out involved wearing three masks at once, and as usual I was elaborately careful to avoid others, especially those without masks. My daughter Clare and I had discussed methods of dealing with the situation – we found that we both hold our breath until having passed groups of laughing talking unmasked people. Apparently a lot of others also do this. I am not able to hold my breath for too long, although Qi Gong breathing exercise do help to expand the lungs.
The saplings in the park seemed to be ok, a few had been a little bent in one direction by the wind, and their canes were easy to straighten.
I had two calls from friends with blighted arts projects. Pippa’s annual music festival in France is cancelled next year, and Vivienne’s new art gallery in London will not be able to open during Tier 4, and how long can it last without opening?
It made me think about the Corn Exchange and The Watermill theatre, our lives here would be immeasurably poorer without them. They have to survive these awful times.
We talked about how careful we really needed to be to avoid the virus, and Vivienne gently suggested that I check with the WHO website for advice. I realised that I must be sounding like my Aunt Christine used to, who had strange beliefs, including one that if an electric plug was not switched off, it would leak electricity and be dreadfully wasteful.
I may be going over the top a bit, but the realisation is dawning on me that we are coming to the end of the easy part of this stage of the loner's lockdown – there has been the generosity and kindness of neighbours, the novelty of Christmas alone with both its trials, and the fun of contacting friends and family across the world. However, this last bit through high rates of infection, and until we get the vaccine, seems to be potentially the hardest time of all.
On the plus side, when on the search for snacks, like a caged animal (what else is there to do?), I have just found an unexpected box of chocolates that I had bought as a present, but not given away. Time for some chocolates now, with a clear conscience, I ran up the stairs eight times today.
