Features and blogging

We are already talking about Lockdown as if it’s something that is in the past. I mean, I’m doing it too, along with everyone else I talk to, and every mention of the subject in the media. We have to – it’s the only tiny bit of sanity left to cling on to, the fact that the gate is in sight and it’s wide open. No need to run, everyone, the sentries have stepped down.
I’m Gemini, though, so of course I’m conflicted. Half of me can’t wait to rush to the pubs, shops, hairdresser, train station, cafes, friends’ gardens etc. But part of me wants to hide behind the sofa with the lights off.
I think this is normal – every single one of us was in imminent danger last year; most of us experienced losses at close hand. All of us felt helpless at one point or another. Is it safe to come out yet?
Well, spring is here and The End is in sight. This last chapter has been all about lessons learned and milestones achieved, black-cornered pages marking the losses and hand-in-prayer emojis signing off vaccines. I’m watching myself with interest to note which changes I keep for good in my brave new world and which ones I’ll discard.
When I was small I felt bad about watching telly in the daytime because my parents spent their childhoods playing outside and wanted the same for us. ‘Go and get some fresh air’ was the mantra, and it didn’t matter if all your north London mates were watching Saturday Swap Shop with the blinds down – the TV was off until after supper.
I think I was about 32 before I finally felt at ease lazing about on the sofa watching a film at 2pm, without using a sick day as an excuse. Thanks to the wonder of Netflix, any last shadow of doubt about daytime telly has vanished. Lockdowns followed such completely different rules: going out was dodgy and we had to prove we were using the fresh air wisely. Look! I’m RUNNING! I’m walking WITH ONE FRIEND, I only sat on the bench for two minutes, honest.
(I’m not being sarcastic here, this was me all over. I had to stop going on the Heath last year because the rule-breakers made me so cross).
So that’s one thing that’s become acceptable for me – staying in on a sunny day.
The other thing that might change is my husband working from home. I always did, but he had an office to go to and now he’s in our front room. Does our new world mean he gets to keep that big space with the nice framed artwork (and, yes, the telly)? I like the idea and I don’t like it all at once. It’s lovely having him around for lunch but if I have to overhear yet another long conference call drifting out into the hallway…
I guess the third change is that I’m a bit more carefree this month: when I do go out I’m all “In The Fresh Air Don’t Care” about it for the first time in a year. Lockdowns 1, 2 and 3 made me feel guilty about sharing the air with the rest of London. But as buds appear on trees and the sun thaws our pavements, the guilt is vanishing. In this blissful, sparkly weather I head out over the Heath every single day to get my fix. If I’m not working I walk for miles. I’ve got my diary out for that first train trip to Cornwall and I want a window seat and a huge table for my big packed lunch.
And even though the threat of another L-word will now be ever-present, I’m going to take a big spring-leap at summer 2021 and dare it, just dare it, to lock us all down again. Vaccines: check. Mask: check. Cat-sitters? Applications by email or FB please.