Week 4: Lock-down

Anne Frank.

That's who I'm feeling like this week.

OK, her diary was probably a bit more interesting, and yes she was hiding in truly scary circumstances, and I suppose she was limited to a secret room and couldn't pop down to Coughlans* for a baguette, but you know, SIMILAR.

So what does a Cleaning and Caring chap do in a week where normal life is becoming locked down? Cleaning and Caring. And because G (for "Girl") is also now stuck at home, B (for "Boy") can be left for short periods, meaning Cleaning and Caring chap can do Cycling. And Golf practice (in the garden).

I shall have to rename this blog "Mr H Cooks, Cleans, Cares, Cycles & Practices Golf". Catchy.

Still, good news! All of this not sitting at a desk anymore has started to shift The Chunk. Five pounds in two weeks. I'm thinking of starting a YouTube channel called "Chunkercise with Mr H". All you need is a Jurgen Mopp and Bruce The Shark and the weight will pour off you. Anyone any good at creating routines with household appliances?

Not so good news! All of this not sitting at a desk anymore has given me Cleaners Elbow. I'm told it comes from gripping cylindrical things too hard, which is a shame as all my favourite activities in life involve gripping cylindrical things. Apparently the cure involves gripping cylindrical things like they are a live budgie. Which probably explains why our one is no longer with us.

Anyway, I digress. Week 4.

We are all only too aware of the anti-viral properties of large quantities of loo-roll, so it came as a Great Cause for Concern that Nana & Pops's defences were seriously weakened; only one roll left and they hadn't been able to buy any replacements. So in the spirit of COVID-friendly sharing, we arranged to donate nine to them in a carefully orchestrated doorstep swap; loo rolls were lobbed one-by-one into their front hall, and in return a couple of Marguerite daisy cuttings were hurled out into the front garden. A fair trade, and not a virus in sight. For those concerned for the welfare of Nana & Pops, they are surprisingly fleet-of-foot for octogenarians and managed to dodge every loo roll, no matter now hard I threw them.

We are all feeling unsettled by the lock-down; G wants to know how her GCSE grades will be arrived at and has taken to drawing the most beautiful, intricate pictures to distract herself, Gin is partly at school (2 days this week) overseeing a small number of kids that are still attending, and B is carrying on as he has for the best part of 2 years (as he says, "Everyone is now living like me"). His sleep has been disrupted badly (usually a sign that he is worrying about something), which he blamed on the quality of his sleeping facilities.

And so began the great bed switch-over: Big bed to little bed, little pillow to big pillow, thick duvet to thin duvet, no blanket to blanket, and every combo thereof. All spread over the course of 3 days and nights (hands up who has changed a king-sized duvet and pillow-cases at 3.30am this week? Just me then). End result: old King-sized bed is now firewood, his bed is a newer single ("like sleeping on a cloud"), with a king-sized duvet (summer-weight) and a throw of medium thickness. Oh, and he has a new super-soft, super-wide pillow which was purchased from Amazon purely because the first reviewer said it was "so soft it was like motor-boating a goose". That'll do for me.

Its a strange time this. Have you ever had one of those extension leads with a circuit breaker where you have to push re-set every time you want to use it? Well it feels a bit like that. Left work - hit reset! Managing the house - hit reset! B progressing quite quickly - hit reset! Gin goes back to school full time - hit reset!

Still, this extra time on my hands might mean I can figure out for this Blog-site what "site membership" and "subscribe to mailing list" actually do?

Love & elbow-grease,

Mr H

PS Where's Leeky update: still up the tree. Not looking quite his best any longer.

*neither can we now. The buggers have closed it for the foreseeable.