Between Lockdowns and New Year
A slightly bizarre start for me yesterday as I had got my Covid-19 information and dates mixed up.
I thought Lockdown 2 was finishing at midnight on 2nd December (or possibly a few second past it?) and therefore that the first day of post-Lockdown … or is it “Tier-Time”(?) … was to be today, not yesterday.
If you see what I mean.
Consequently it was a bit of a shock when yesterday, venturing after lunch out into my local high street, I noticed the “nail shop” across the road, the old-fashioned (striped red pole) barber’s on my side of it, and sundry other emporia all “setting their stalls out” and what I felt was a positive whiff of optimism in the air.
In the early evening I had a phone call from my daughter whose main purpose – I must confess – seemed to be that, not having heard from me for over a week, to remind me that she did exist – as did George, my first grandchild, who will turn two months old at the end of the week.
Inevitably the subject of who is doing what over Christmas came up.
As someone relatively unmoved by the prospect of celebrating birthdays – or for that matter Christmas – I’m nevertheless aware that many others get very excited by such things and, not wishing to gain a greater reputation as a curmudgeonly old killjoy bore than I already have, I tend to go along with whatever anyone else wants to do.
For me personally, the opportunity to pull up the drawbridge, receive no calls, order in a “ready made Christmas meal” plus some mince pies or Christmas Pudding, brandy butter, ice cream and half a dozen bottles of hooch and then sleep through most of the day on the sofa in front of the television would probably be my idea of a perfect Christmas Day.
Instead of which, for the umpteenth successive festive period, on the day itself I will now be driving for two and a half hours into the countryside to consume a no doubt splendidly-cooked Christmas meal with all the trimmings and make small talk with all sorts of relatives etc. that I only ever see once a year and cannot remember the names of, and then drive home again … without even a touch of alcohol passing my lips.
Roll on the predicted Lockdown 3 early in January, I say!
