It had to happen I suppose. The ‘it’ being me writing a blog about the virus. Typically this would have been computer related but not today and in the past, the very distant past, Corona would have been a fizzy drink. Life has moved on and not entirely for the better. This was not the retirement blog I had ready to go today, but it was prompted by an event in the Summerhouse household.
The event happened first thing this (Thursday) morning. As is usually the case when we’re at home, Mrs Summerhouse brought me my tea at 6.30 (in other houses I make the tea, just to give you a balanced picture). The dogs race up the stairs and wait for their share of the three digestive biscuits we kick off each day with.
Talk about multi-tasking. At the same time as drinking my tea, dunking my bit of biscuit, giving the pups their share, I’m trying to read what’s on my phone. Plenty about you know what and I have to admit I do read some bits of the news just to keep up to date.
This means reading about how many people are now dead. I search for details and read, elderly person with underlying health problems. That’s alright then, until I realise, bloody hell, that’s me, 71 and with diabetes and arthritis. I can’t believe that arthritis is regarded as ‘an underlying health problem’ but that’s what is quoted in the last report. Thank God (or whoever) they don’t include gout because that really is causing me a few problems at the mo.
I pass on and continue reading other topics. By the time Mrs Summerhouse re-enters the bedroom I’m watching a Facebook video about … No, not the virus but a film about a man making, in speeded up action, ‘an ultra-realistic subway diorama’. Which is a fancy way of saying a bit of a model train set.
But that doesn’t do it justice. It’s brilliant and I had intended to take the unusual step, for this blog, of putting in the link. However, as is sometimes the case with me and Facebook, it had mysteriously disappeared so you’ll have to take my word for it. It was brilliant, I repeat.
So Mrs SH says, are you reading about the virus? No, I say, I’m watching a video about a man building an ‘ultra-realistic subway diorama’. It’s brilliant. She responds thoughtfully. You really are a child aren’t you? Still, she says in these difficult times, it’s very reassuring that your priority is model trains. Well, keep calm and carry on, I say.
And generally I find Facebook irritating but every now and again it throws up a gem and it did this morning. Again back to the virus thingy. Somebody had posted the following message – I’d feel safer if the virus called a press-conference and told us how it’s going to save us from Trump. That’s good maybe not quite as good as the ‘ultra-realistic subway diorama’, but definitely up there.
Now I admit that we don’t talk about the virus any more than we have to but we do occasionally discuss what’s happening to friends, whether they’re still coming to her yoga class, cancelling their trip to Malta. Whether we should cancel our Irish holiday in May (they’ve just reported their first death, elderly woman with underlying health problems) or even not go to my folk fiddle group tonight (my daughter texts her mother to tell me to self-isolate). I wouldn’t mind self-isolating but I suppose I’d get bored after the first year or so, especially if all I had to eat was bloody pasta.
Anyway we’re walking the dogs and I’m pondering this blog instead of the one that you’ll get at a later point, all things being well. We’re talking about the virus for quite a few minutes and Mrs SH says, it’s a miracle the world recovers from all this.
Blimey, I think, that’s a bit deep and a lot pessimistic. And I tell her so. She replies, no, I’m talking about all this mud (that we’re walking through), it’s a miracle that is will disappear and the earth will return to normal. This is a marvellous example of a typical non-sequitur from Mrs SH. The kind of thing that I have had to live with for 50 years.
So let that be a reminder to you all when you’re thinking life is difficult at least you don’t have the challenge of talking to Mrs SH when she changes the subject mid-sentence and expects you to follow her ‘train of thought’. Think on, as we say in Yorkshire.
PS. Mrs Summerhouse has just returned from a non panic-buying shopping trip and reports no evidence of panic and plenty of stuff on the shelves.
PPS. I’ve got loads of masks like the one in the picture. I bought them for 50p each when we were moving the asbestos and didn’t use them. Yours for only £50 each. As they say – every cloud …
PPPS. And remember to …
Stay healthy both of you. A bit of self-isolation could be an opportunity for even more creative thinking.
You’ll be pleased to know i’ve already started positive reframing