I HAVE one view from my window and I am lucky to have a suburban garden.
With the numbers of Covid-19 still high, I am scared, scared enough to stay inside. But, for my sanity, I know it is important to count my blessings.
Number 1, I am cocooning in my home in Douglas with my husband, he is 83 and we have been married for 58 years, we get along nicely.
I was, up to a few weeks ago, slipping out to the shops myself in spite of the phone calls from people asking me “Is there anything you need?” But I gave it up — what’s the fun in shopping where you can’t relax with a cuppa or buy a nice top while you are out?
I have mastered Zoom and am amazed at how simple and straightforward it is.
At the same time, I get very cross when I hear businesses and Government departments telling us to find something online, on Facebook, Instagram or Twitter.
What about our fellow aged neighbours who are allergic to technology or have no wi-fi, nor the energy to fight for it.
Now that brings me to something serious: Vaccination.
When the current row is over and it starts to flow again into the country, where, when, and how are we going to get it? Not that we want it before those who are keeping us all safe on the frontline, or our fellow aged who are in nursing homes.
Thank God for George Lee for asking our question at a recent press briefing. He asked: “When will the 70-year-olds and upwards know how, where and when they will get the vaccine?”
He was told the HSE will do the same as they do with the flu injection, they will notify us through the media and direct us to go to our GP.
There is a quick guide to the provisional vaccine allocation groups on www.gov.ie, which places people 70 and older in the third group out of 15 groups.
The HSE mentioned that when the expected vaccines arrive, they will set up mass vaccination centres and electronic records will be kept.
What do we do every day during lockdown, go for a walk? Maybe you can, maybe you can’t, like me. Arthritis keeps me close to home, but a bit of sunshine took me out in the garden, and there are lots of buds and shoots — the camellia is ready to burst into a blaze of pink.
I spotted a valiant old friend, a cowslip, preening amongst the weeds and neglect. There is truth in the advice ‘Walk around as if you are seeing the place for the first time’.
When the weather settles and the cold snap in the garden is over, I am going to go out there and work at it, even if its only a square foot a day — I refuse to go metric.
We had a bit of excitement with the recent American election, though tempered with our anxiety for our sons and daughters living over in Arizona, who we thought might be vulnerable to rioting mobs.
But aren’t we anxious about sons, daughters, and grandchildren all over the world, curtailed like ourselves, asking “Are they being careful, are they wearing masks?”
That is why Zoom, Skype or Face Time or the like is a godsend, we can look at them, and of course we can read them.
I have cut back on the amount of TV news I see, I just get the numbers every evening and stick to lighting my candle every morning, watch it flickering away safely on the draining board in the kitchen.
I cannot explain it, but the process comforts me. It seems to connect me somehow to those I have lost or cannot reach.
Phone calls help, and what about the little thrill when there is something from a friend in the post-box?
Apologies for the cliches, but it is what it is, live by the rules and take one day at a time.