Imagining the end of lockdown

Started by Bill at A Silly Place, and then spreading in a lovely way over the WordPress family of bloggers, I was invited to join the theme of writing a post about what I want the end of lockdown to be. Thank you to over at Smelly Socks and Garden Peas for the invitation. You can find her post on this here.

We are still in Lockdown in Scotland and have diverged a little from England but Im not convinced there is any big difference. People have stuck to the directions pretty well but there have also been people who have bended them a little. Sitting in parks in the sun, going out more than once. So without sticking my nose too much into writing about politics I was slightly amused some of the changes just reflected the natural changes and decisions people were already making. The big difference here is the ‘going back to work’. We will definitely get there I just think it is a slower change so that its clearer what that means for different sectors.

For me though – I have been working throughout. I can’t manage two walks a day and only manage one on my days off. So my imagining will start with some self imposed relaxation!! That may look to some like lockdown :-).

A few weeks in to lockdown lift

It will be harder getting out than it was getting in. Work will be even more tiring. Not because it isn’t brilliant and interesting and fun…its the constant responding to change that brings fatigue. Brain fatigue. Brain fatigue that can only be dealt with by a glass of wine.

So….one thing I may NEVER say again – I might stop drinking wine for a month. I might stop drinking so much wine for a month. I might only drink wine with friends.

This will involve situations such as:

Maybe focus on the wine here….none of us look like that!

But they may just start a little more like this:

We don’t look like this either…but you get the sentiment – right?

Plans

I suppose in general I just want to imagine being back to making plans. Lifestyle, social, silly plans. I miss plans. I miss lunch plans, night out plans, trips away plans. I miss men plans. So I imagine that the hard work outside of work will start with how we all start organising diaries. Probably for Christmas nights out at this rate!!

Ooh to be out and about and able to nip into the shop. I have managed to not have any disasters with a work dress and shoes bought online but that can’t last. I would also like to buy a nice summer dress and feel like I have somewhere to wear it to.

Health

I miss the gym. I miss my actual yoga studio. So I am even imagining being sweaty and red faced in public. Bring it on. I am exercising in the house, doing yoga on Zoom and using HIIT workouts. Yes they work and hopefully I won’t have added to my arse by the time lockdown ends. It is just not the same though as going to the gym for a workout and a relaxing swim.

Neighbours

I won’t miss, sorry, having to only see the same people on my days off. Especially ones that have clearly disparaging thought about my vegetable growing abilities. But I will miss the likelihood of using FaceTime with friends instead of phoning. Hopefully that won’t stop. As everyone starts to be busy again I hope the connections don’t get lost. They won’t…I just hope we keep the creativity in how we connect and why we connect.

Over to you

I am a little hungover today (wine!!) so I nominate anyone who has a read of this post 🙂

Header Photo by Timon Studler on Unsplash

Kick Some Ass

I’m finding it difficult to find the time to write. Or maybe I am just focused on other things just now. Either way I thought I would do a very, very, very short post and leave you with this video. Some of my favourite female actresses kicking some ass! Respect Zoe Bell!

Header Photo by Arisa Chattasa on Unsplash

Coffee Complications

I have a special relationship with coffee. I imagine I would be bereft without it. An espresso is my favourite, a cappuccino just mmmm.

So imagine my absolute socially isolated embarrassment at having bought decaf. By mistake! I don’t believe in decaf…it’s like sucking out the core of coffee to make people feel somehow healthy about their decision. Not. For. Me.

I thought I did well, strength no. 4 (tick), ground to save me pouring in beans and pressing a button (tick), coffee machine cleaned (tick) and packet carefully opened. In went the coffee to the little thingy and I pressed it down with my pressy down thing before pretending to be a barista and attaching it to my coffee machine.

Photo by Mario Ibrahimi on Unsplash

Whilst still pretending to be a barista, by pouring milk and sticking in the steam spout thingy, I looked wistfully over at my packet of coffee. The world slowed down. Noooooooooooooooooooooo (in a slow motion sounding no). It can’t be. It bloody well is. That says decaf. On strength 4 coffee. My head did not compute.

Probably due to the clear lack of caffeine I was about to drink.

You know when you are standing arguing in your head about something that you have clearly done. That was me. There was no getting away from the label. Other than blaming the company for making the words decaf a little too small. My fault though. Agggghhhhhh so very annoying. I am usually quite discerning about my coffee choice. How did this happen? I blame….anyone and anything other than myself….Ok I blame myself.

Is there any point to decaf coffee?

Asking for a very stupid…ahem…friend who now is drinking it (due to her not wasting things issues).

Header Photo by Laureen Missaire on Unsplash

Toes out

It’s a gorgeous day in Edinburgh.

Sun is out. Veg is all planted. Day off!!

Flip flops are the only things I’m going to put on my feet today. I’ve done a yoga class. Side crow as a peak pose in my living room was pretty satisfying. Best thing is that I’m sure my instructor couldn’t see how rubbish it was 😊.

What is everyone up to today?

Me – I’m in the garden. My toes are getting some sun. My 🎧 are on and I am loving today. If you have any great music to recommend send it my way. I’m not moving from here unless it is to dance around the garden with a wine 🍾.

Tomorrow – it never comes so I’ll just be focusing on today, toes, tanning and temptation…(it was the only other t I could thing of!).

Carrots

Yes Carrots. No that is not me swearing about something. Although ‘carrots’ might be a new swear word (curse word) in my life going forward. Hilariously funny, wonderfully petulant, satisfyingly perturbed – carrots now feature in my life as as one of those little stories that is worth hanging onto. Who would have known!

My vegetables didn’t do well at all last year. I did get some spinach and rocket and it was lovely. Most other things…meh. Probably due to me not being Monty Dom. Probably a little due to a weird late spring. Was I bothered? Not at all! It can be more expensive to grow veg, the shops had food in them and I didn’t go without. Was my neighbour, someone I thought was a fellow excited veg grower, bothered? It seems so.

Me when my veg actually grows
Him saying ‘well done’,…,not

I got a text from him. It was nice enough. He wanted to use my raised beds if I wasn’t going to. Of course I am going to. I like gardening. I should caveat that by saying I like some gardening. I am not a gardener but I like growing things. It is quite satisfying and fills me with joy when I skip out into the garden and cut some spinach off for my curry. Or some rocket for my salad. I skip back in and eat it in a more satisfied, I grew that way, than when I have bought a packet of spinach that lasts only one day.

So I politely declined his lovely offer of utilising my raised beds. This was clearly not the correct answer. What happened next is so shocking and so funny that I don’t quite know how to write it on paper. You may be shocked. You may be upset. You may laugh at me. You may laugh at him. Either or, or any of these, ways – here goes.

I got a lecture on using my raised beds to their full. They apparently shouldn’t be wasted in the current climate. Fine…but not really fine. Its two raised beds…not exactly contributing to a war effort here. Tesco’s is not far away. They have food. I can, however, take that one on the chin; roll with the punches. But I got KO’d for my carrots. Apparently I wasted the whole lot last year.

I did chuck them out. But here is the thing. Are carrots actually carrots if they haven’t grown into carrots? My carrots resembled little stumps rather than carrots. Here is another thing. If they are unceremoniously tossed on the compost heap are they wasted? My neighbour and myself seem to disagree on the definition of wasted. Oh well (I wrote that in a very sarcastic sounding voice).

The texts descended into an argument, the argument descended into what might be described as some akin to a feud. Over CARROTS! Yes, you are welcome! Mull it over for a while…come to your own conclusion on this one. All assessments of the situation are valid.

Unfortunately my work colleagues won’t ever let this one go. Having been witness to the whole thing by text and phone they have now taken on the view that I am a SHIT gardener and my CARROTS are rubbish. This has led to lots of laughing at work. Because it is true :-).

I had all my vegetable seeds ready for this year. Before the garden argument happened. I didn’t have carrots in that mix.

I do now.

Those carrots are getting planted today.