As I wrote in response to a recent comment on my
latest blogpost, “It's hard to believe that just six short weeks ago, we were wandering
round Burton-on-Trent, visiting all those smashing pubs, with total impunity
and hardly a care in the world.” And it’s that infinitesimally small timescale
that really brings home the changes that have been wrought to how we go about
our daily lives, our economic outlook and society in general.
These changes haven’t just affected Britain and Europe,
they’ve spread across the whole world, from the Antipodes, the Pacific Rim, Central
and South-East Asia, Africa and over to the America’s. Freedoms we once took
for granted, like popping out to the local, taking a drive to the coast,
meeting up with friends, attending a gathering such as a rock concert, a
football match or even a beer festival have been taken away from us, along
with the ability to head off on holiday
somewhere nice or unusual.
The global pandemic that is Covid-19, seemingly came out of
nowhere, catching us all unawares, and with a total lack of any form of
immunity within the human population as a whole, individual governments have
responded with measure designed to slow down the spread of this innocuous piece
of RNA to prevent vital health resources from being over whelmed and prevent as
many deaths as possible.
The strategy is clumsy and damaging both socially and
economically, but it is designed to buy time for a vaccine to be developed, or
to allow sufficient natural immunity to develop in populations at large. I
don’t want to get into arguments here about health versus economic benefits, or
how long it will take before we get some semblance of normality back in our
lives, but strict lockdown and isolation measures do seemed to have worked in
some countries and indeed some regions of the world.
What I want to do instead is to highlight how I am coping
with the lockdown, whilst wondering how others are managing in potentially quite
different circumstances.
The first thing that’s obviously of benefit is the lockdown
has occurred during spring and at a time of mainly dry and largely warm
weather. Just imagine if we’d been forced into this during February, that month
of incessant rain. I was thinking this
as I sat out on the patio yesterday morning, enjoying a plate of scrambled eggs
on toast that Mrs PBT’s had knocked up for breakfast.
There was blue sky aplenty and the sun was shining down as
we sat looking out over the garden. “Isn’t it quiet?” remarked my wife. I
agreed, the background roar of traffic on the A21 was absent, there wasn’t the
usual regular whine of jet engines overhead, from planes bound for Gatwick.
Instead there was nothing apart from birdsong and the sound of the odd
fastidious gardener mowing the grass.
Our garden has been our salvation; our quiet oasis at the
back of the house, our sanctuary, respite and escape from the madness occurring
in the outside world. It might need a little tlc – and even that’s being dealt
with at present, but we’re so lucky to have somewhere to enjoy the natural
world, without setting foot outside of the house.
There are moments though when it is appropriate and necessary
to leave the house.
Son Matthew has been
furloughed from his job in retail, so
has been accompanying me on a series of circular walks which take us to the
edge of
suburban Tonbridge. I do find it sad, when it becomes necessary to
cross the road or sidestep, just to avoid getting too close to people walking,
or running in the opposite direction, however necessary to maintain
social
distancing.
For better or worse, us humans are social animals, and
breaking with habits that have evolved over hundreds, if not thousands of years
is extremely difficult. I wrote before about being isolated from the family whilst
running our former off-license, back in the early 2000’s, and if anything, this
mentally prepared me for what we are all going through now.
Mrs PBT's and I are more
fortunate than many affected by this crisis. Our mortgage has been paid off and
I’m still working – although if this crisis goes on for too long that could
change, as demand for dental materials has fallen off a cliff. Still, due to
being prudent, and careful saving, there should be enough to see me through
until next April when I reach official state retirement age, even though these
funds were designed to see me through into eventual retirement
It’s also important to get into a routine and not let
standards slip. For example, it’s very
easy to not bother shaving, and then end up looking like the proverbial “Wild Man of Borneo ” - a creature of legend to whom I was often compared with by my
mother, especially whilst letting my hair grow long, back in the early 70’s.
This self-discipline especially applies if you are working
from home, as otherwise the temptation is to slob around the house all day in a
state of undress and general idleness. You will find yourself glad of this
advice, once the lockdown restrictions eventually start to be lifted.
It helps if you’ve got a project or two to be working on,
whether it’s de-cluttering that room, sorting out the garden shed or, like m,
tidying up a shamefully neglected garden.
Over the weekend I dug our old
vegetable patch over, with the aim of
once again turning it into a wild-flower meadow. It looks very bare in the
photos, but the one below shows last year’s floral effort in all its glory.
One other thing, before finishing, and that is having this
spare time gives you a chance to reflect and perhaps even re-evaluate your
life. Certainly, being away from the nine to five treadmill allows you to
ponder what’s important in your life. Is it the relentless pursuit of money and
material wealth, or are things like health, happiness and general well-being of
far greater value?
Remember, as Louis Armstrong sang, “We Have All the Time in
the World,” or at least we do until lockdown ends and it’s back to picking up
from where we left off six weeks ago.
This historic brewery was previously connected to the still active Molson
Coors site, across Station Street, by an overhead bridge until 2017, when the
last brew took place. The buildings were decommissioned the following year. I’m
suspecting these buildings may once have been part of the Ind Coope brewery, so
it’s ironic, that just seven short weeks ago, I should have had my final
pre-lockdown pint in the Roebuck Inn opposite.
