I often speak before I think (and equally often my words are accompanied by a horrified look from my husband or a whispered ‘inner voice’ and shake of his head) and I did so this morning. On our first day of level 4 isolation, chatting on the phone to my friend Brigitte, I said that I’d vaguely thought about doing an isolation blog. I’m full of vague ideas that rarely see the actual light of day but Brigitte’s one of those people who grabs ideas by the throat and strangles them into the submission of reality, so I’m therefore taking up her challenge of posting a short piece daily, along with a picture. She’d be easy to hate if she wasn’t so damned nice. She’ll be easier to hate if you all leave me because of this.
I’m not the slightest bit funny. Any humour I have is usually borrowed (stolen?) or repeated. I can tell a funny story from life but I can’t make one up. There’s little humour about the situation many people around the world find themselves in today, but we search for whatever there is – my Facebook feed is stuffed with it, for which I’m thankful – and eagerly ingest it. I can’t match that but I’ll try my best not to be boring.
So, Day 1. It feels more like Day 3, the previous two having been slightly less restricted but still a few light years from normal. But it was 11.59pm yesterday when the real hard stuff began. We cannot go outside unless for food, short periods of exercise, or in an emergency. (And, given where I and a few hundred thousand others live, God help us if The Big One – earthquake – strikes Wellington in the next few weeks.) We have to exist in our own bubble and remain at least two metres from anyone else when we make our essential hunting forays outside. Thankfully I can hunt easily, a large supermarket within twenty minutes walk and a great food store less than ten. Both sell wine…
Today’s picture is the view from our apartment. It’s not bad for a city view. The church is St Peter’s, which has been here since 1848, almost as long as Wellington. I’m not a religious person but I appreciate art in many forms and I’ve rarely seen an ugly church. It’s pretty in the dark when there is a service and the lights shine out through the stained glass windows. The buildings on the hill behind are part of Victoria University, all now empty during the lockdown. There is a path almost straight up through the trees, a real lung buster. Along with eleven storeys of stairs I have no excuse for not getting enough exercise.
As far as I’m concerned it’s a no brainer to follow the rules of this isolation period. I don’t want to have to say goodbye to anyone over the next few weeks so please all of you take care, stay safe, and see you tomorrow!