Life and Living, Other Stuff

Lockdown Diary Number 9

Morning Lovely Lockdowners!
Ha, Fooled you! Thought you would be ‘my Noodles’ forever didn’t you? Nothing certain in life, guys. Nothing. Except dying. Sorry to put it so bluntly so early in the morning. But here’s a pic that says it better than I can. snoopy

And a different format for today:
Lockdown reflections: Easter Monday, 13 April 2020.

What I found myself:

Ironing, around midday was a king size duvet cover. Flipping cumbersome thing.  With Heart 104.9 Radio turned up loud and boogying as much as possible while simultaneously keeping the iron in contact with the creased cotton, accompanying the Doobie Brothers to their track, Long Train Running. “Without lo – o – o – o – o – o ve , where would you be now?’’ (Not ironing this bloody sheet I thought. This takes huge love I tell you. And who’s idea was it to make beds so big anyway? They really are not that necessary unless you’re a very big people which I’m not. BTW, think they’re also planning online concert. Check out Twitter. 50th anniversary or something. Mannnnn, that’s a long time. What a superb band, huh? )

Cursing, around the same time, was the feminist movement! For inspiring women to use their brains and fight tooth and nail for equal rights to the extent that women are just not satisfied with doing ordinary housework and cleaning and cooking and caring for young children but want to ‘have it all’ and then wondering how we are supposed to do it and still become world leaders. It takes a special kind of women I tell you. We should have been taught how to iron big sheets rather. And just be happy with our lot.

Wondering at various times of the day, was how are other people are coping. People who are hungry, anxious, lonely, sick, confined, frustrated, abused, separated from family, not able to breathe properly.

Feeling,  was gratitude for my health and so many other things.

Sweeping, a little later, was the driveway for heaven’s sake. No-one even drives up the bloody driveway anyway except maybe once a week. Maybe. To get some food.

Staring at for a few quiet, contented minutes were the clouds. This while lying in the “happy baby position”, feeling quite chuffed with myself that I can manage a little yoga on my own without online instructions.

Remembering, while lying in the ‘tub’ position (as in with knees pulled up at 90 degree angle, toes pointed and hands waving wildly under the water to keep afloat ) in the pool – even though I have NEVER, before Lockdown that is, thought of getting into a freezing cold pool at 6 in the evening, especially with a little cloud cover and an autumn breeze- was that I used to do synchronised swimming at some point in my life. That was a good moment.

Wearing, after the swim was a soft, stripey, comfy, no fuss, blue ONESIE and believing, after a good, few solid hours of ironing, that onesies are the only way to go in lockdown. And after. Any time of day or night actually.  What a marvellous bloody design. (PS ‘stolen’ from my daughter who’d apparently thought it not quite right at the time. )

Photographing, as the last memorable thing worth capturing in these weird times, was one of our bunnies who was brought into the kitchen for an early evening visit. Hoped she was going to join us on the Easter egg hunt on Sunday, but chances were pretty good that the mad boxer would have mistaken her for something edible.
Writing, was nothing else at all.

Short and sweet.

Stay safe, stay home, stay sane, stay connected.
‘Til tomorrow!
Maybe.
xxxx

easterbunny

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