Freedom is in the air. People are busy making plans. They’re reserving tables in restaurants, arranging museum visits, reserving hotel rooms and even booking flights. At any other time there would be nothing remarkable about this, but now we live in a different time and there is. I don’t seem to have the will to join in. I want to, but I think I’ve lost the knack. I don’t know if I’ve entered a state of suspended animation (some might call it laziness) or if I just can’t cope with the potential disappointment if everything falls through.
For so long there’s been nothing in my diary that wasn’t entirely functional, I can’t quite switch into the fun gear. These are the entries in my diary for the next month: give the cat his flea treatment next Monday; go to the hygienist the following Tuesday; drop books and clothes off at the charity store on April 1 (this is actually quite exciting – those appointments are harder to get than an invitation to the Queen’s Garden Party); and then it’s another lockdown Easter. All these are worthy and useful things that aren’t likely to be cancelled, but fun they aren’t.
Whoever it was who said life is what happens when you’re busy making plans hadn’t lived through a pandemic. I suspect that making plans is what life is all about. So with a great effort of will I’m going to imagine what an enjoyable year would look like and try to make it happen. It should involve some travel, even if it’s only as far as Kew Gardens, where we can marvel at the glasshouses and enjoy the treetop walkway. But it’s hard to socially distance on a treetop walkway. Drinking coffee inside a café would be wonderful; lunch or dinner in a restaurant even better. However, newspaper headlines are warning “Pubs and restaurants booked up for months”, so I’d better get going before it’s too late. Which it might be already.
Of course I could invite people for dinner, but what if they’re infectious? I’m not entirely sure about having people in the house again, but as long as they show us their vaccine passports, it should be okay. I’ll place an anti-viral mat at the front door and provide hand sanitiser throughout the house. Masks will, of course, be obligatory when not eating or drinking. Or I might relax the rules slightly and allow a face shield instead. I can’t remember how to cook anything other than carrot soup and tuna bake – will that do? As for wearing proper smart clothes, I think I might have given them all to charity. Dinner in our house will truly be the most sought-after invitation of the year.
The best plan might be to start small and organise a walk in the countryside with a pub lunch. I won’t have to worry about buying that anti-viral mat, I can wear scruffy clothes and my rusty cooking skills won’t be required. It’s modest, but it’s a plan.
‘making plans is what life is all about’. An insightful comment – certainly for western society.
Thank you – it’s a relief to know that there’s something insightful in among the general silliness.
No, we’ve not made plans either. Definitely got out of the habit. You could have a bowl of disinfectant at the door for us to dunk our shoe-shod feet in before coming in – like at swimming pools without the shoes, of course. Do they still do that? Soon we should be able to meet up in each other’s gardens – now that’s a plan. 👍🤞
You haven’t seen the state of our garden!
You echo my sentiments, Sheridan. I’m aware I’m lacking motivation to ‘get going again.’
If only, we could return to the ‘old normal’ where we took everything…….socialising, travelling, shopping……. for granted. I’m guessing that in the back of my mind, there’ll always be the thought, ‘ am I safe?’ Ah well! Think positive & embrace the ‘new normal!’
I’m not that worried about the safety aspect, I just can’t cope with the disappointment if we’re all put under house arrest again.