Week six of greying hairs and long days

I bought some masks this week.

I wanted to buy a plague doctor mask. One of those long-nose-bird-beak ones and perhaps a silver tipped mahogany cane, to go with it, to fend off other shoppers with. In the end though, I settled for a couple of reusable ones from the euro shop and some posh ones from the pharmacy instead. I know the advice on this issue is conflicting, but I thought I would buy a few and see how I got on.

I wore a mask running and as imagined, it was an unmitigated disaster. It kept sliding up over my eyes, so I ran off the curb twice and almost into a dog walker once. In fairness though, this could be because I am losing the ability to differentiate distance in three-dimensional space. The other problem was that I couldn’t breathe. I’m not a fast, elegant or coordinated runner but I was good at breathing. With the mask on I finished my route looking as I do after checking the oven roasted chicken, or after a particularly ambitious sauna. I swore that I would never again wear a face mask, as long as I lived on this beautiful blue planet.

So the next day I wore a mask to the supermarket and there I did notice the benefits. Other mask wearing shoppers gave me proud, approving glances which I could recognise by their subtle eye movements. I crinkled my eyes back at them, which translated as “I see you and I value you” and I went about my day. My very long day.

Week six though, week six, hey!

I found parts of week six quite challenging and I felt particularly non-essential and blue on day 38. It dawned on me that this plan to keep us all inside until we invent a vaccine seems a little bit flakey now, doesn’t it?

“What are you going to do?”

“Yes, we’re going to keep everyone indoors until we invent a vaccine”.

“Anything else, are you going to do anything else?”

“Nope. That’s your lot. Everyone indoors until we invent a vaccine”.

“Do you know how long that will be?”

“Nope. Haven’t a clue”.

“OK, well do let us know how you get on”.

“Will do”.

Day 38 was also the day that I did a virtual tour of the Basílica de la Sagrada Família, which did the opposite of cheer me up. In fact, I would say that it made me quite wistful. The Church (built in 1882), is an extraordinary piece of architectural beauty which I was lucky enough to visit with my girlfriends a couple of years ago. Seeing it virtually made me miss sensory experiences, my friends and casual travelling.

I also found several, new grey hairs congregating on my head on Day 38 and I realised that when I do see my family again, I will look older and so will they. We will all have gotten older and fatter while we were waiting for life to resume, and that’s only if we are the randomly fortuitous ones. Fingers crossed, hey. Yes, so wistful was I on Day 38 that I wrote a poem about it. I called it Day 38.

Day 38

I boiled the eggs.

Soft and easy and

served them

With oceans of bored salt and butter.

Later, I’ll put the birthday card away

It’s been on the shelf since March.

I think a few of us wouldn’t mind knowing how much longer we have to stay in our work-life-units. I heard David Attenborough suggest the other day, that perhaps we should stay like this forever, for the environment. Forever. Margaret Attwood, however, was a little more optimistic. Yes, Madame Dystopia said we should start thinking about our Castles of the Future now, and plan what we would like to see in them.

There wouldn’t be any money in my Castle of the Future. I wouldn’t change the economy or adjust the currency or greenify or diversify, I would simply erase it. Otherwise our billionaires are going to become trillionaires and have you seen how ridiculous a trillion is in numbers?

1, 000, 000, 000, 000

It’s absurd.

Without money we wouldn’t need banking, governments, stockbrokers, accountants, or insurance. All those professionals could help with food production and distribution instead. We’d renovate all those fabulous buildings into luxury homes for the health workers and then the rest of us could work out a system where we either Gave or Received, which would suffice for all other interactions.

Let me give you a tangible example in case I’m getting too technical for you.

My neighbour loves to do DIY. I’d say it’s his favourite lockdown activity of all. Boy oh boy, does he like to hammer and saw and drill. So I could pop into his place and ask him to fix the doors on my wardrobe and shower cabin and in return he could ask me to do something from my special skillset. He might ask me to read a Dylan Thomas poem aloud, for example, or fold his clothes neatly and put them away. He might like me to wash his dishes, which I’m also very good at, or tell him about my favourite films and why they are ranked in that particular order. It would be up to him to choose what he’d like me to do and I would be happy to comply.

Now, I know what you’re thinking.

You’re wondering what on earth we could do with some of those American Republicans who might not have special skillsets? All I say to that is that many of them seem to be hell bent on dying for their leader anyway, so maybe that problem will solve itself. For those American Republicans who do survive, I suggest that they spend time in my lake of healing which is near the garden of forgiveness, opposite the zebra stable. Between the moat and the maze. There they could drink freshly squeezed mango juice which would help them recover from that which made them so angry, lost and sad. My Castle of the Future is the rainbow coloured intersection where anarchism meets Buddhism and where everyone is welcome. Even Republicans, Fianna Fáil and Fine Gael voters and yes, Tories too.

In my Castle of the Future, Tories would be welcome too.

But look it, these four, jam-filled-sugar-topped Berliner donuts are not going to eat themselves, are they? Before I go though, I can’t thank you enough for reading these silly vignettes of mine. None of this was what any of us had in mind when we said we’d like to make some changes on New Year’s Eve last, was it? We just thought we might join a gym or give up dairy. But you are playing the hand you’ve been dealt so very well, and you’re taking care of all of your challenges.

So well done you, well done you, well done you.

Posted by ruthelizabethpowell.