LIFE IN THE TIME OF CORONAVIRUS DAY 397 (+/- depending on locale)

Another day. We have recently been 'free' to travel within Scotland - no daring to cross into England, Wales, or ferry across to Northern Ireland, but we are 'free' to go where we choose in Scotland the now. That may change if this Indian double-mutation variant proves to be more deadly than the previous mutations so Paul and I ventured forth earlier this week to the preferred supermarket down in Dundee to do a Big Shop while we can. 

Considering we were late leaving the house (after 9am rather than the 7am we'd thought to leave by), there was little traffic to/from and the car park at the supermarket was less than half-full. The store was therefore less busy - WOOT! Shopping with an Aspie is never fun but much less so when the stores are busy. Were we in-out as quickly as Paul would have liked, no. But we got everything on the list, a few other things we'd not put on the list, and were back on the road by noon. 

Just that one relatively small outing exhausted us both, we were surprised at that but then again perhaps we shouldn't have been surprised after two years of 'pandemic awareness' - for us it really began when in December 2019 we began hearing whispers of a 'strange new pneumonia' in China. Saying 'we don't get out much' is an understatement, especially to describe us since January 2020. 

 

We dragged the shopping in and forced ourselves to stay upright long enough to put everything away before collapsing onto respective preferred collapsing spots for the rest of the afternoon and evening. And we both were in bed fast asleep quite early. Which meant the next day we were both up early. 

 

We're hoping to have visitors up from England in June (everyone is 'staycationing' this year to avoid the eye-wateringly expensive hotel quarantining and the real risk of the destination country either being rife with Covid or trapped abroad should an outbreak preclude returning home). Paul and I joked they needed to bring their 'vax passports' before we could let them in the door - luckily they have a good sense of humour and knew we were joking. 

It really was a joke but the growing mistrust of the vaccines is no joke. Every day reports trickle out about serious complications - some fatal - happening across age and condition groups, and some of the worst complications are happening to people with MY pre-existing conditions. 

 

We've been offered the jab but didn't make it through screening - I'm in an acute pericarditis flare so the centre 'preferred not to administer' to avoid...serious side effects. Paul then refused his vax and now we're both having to continue being even more careful than we usually are. 

 

Considering I went nearly full-on germaphobe after nearly dying with H1N1, I'm used to the precautions but it saddens me to see Paul now being more hygienically aware as well - he once derided but now is scrupulous about using the 70% isopropyl alcohol I refill our spray bottles with, and the boil-washable cotton carrier bags go straight into the wash after any nip to the shops as do our four layer masks - everything gets a boil-wash these days after one use.  

 

Scandals both political and 'sport and celeb' continue, and pandemic restrictions are now chafing beyond irritating to the point of boiling over into civil unrest. The British Monarchy is under attack from a pair of the most shockingly spoilt brats ever to hit the headlines. Life is so topsy-turvy these days it is increasingly impossible to predict if anything will ever 'get back to normal'. 

 

Meanwhile I'm trying to keep full freezers, store cupboards, personal and medical chest supplies rotated and well stocked. We've taken to dashing out to 'top-up' when lockdowns ease. We 'socialise' via phone and email (no Zooming from this house, I'm no techno-phobe but I haven't been to the hair salon in over a year and my 'Covid-Cut' is not growing out well:) 

 

The general consensus is 'something is coming', we all have a sense of impending something that won't prove terribly pleasant - a feeling 'this isn't going to end well'. We all hope we're wrong but are lifelong believers in the old saying 'Prepare for the worst whilst hoping for the best'.  

And meanwhile we're all trying to maintain a sense of humour whilst finding new hobbies or honing old ones. Our gardens are looking rather good, I've used up most of my yarn and fabric stash (the house is looking great and I've made so many crochet and quilted blankets and hats I could easily supply a small army with 'keep-warms'), Paul has pared down the shed clutter, and we're on our third go with the 20+jigsaws I stocked in over 2020 knowing we'd need something to do as a couple when things go a bit boring.

 

We are all of us trying to get by/through best we can without going full-on mental - it's no longer as annoying, for example, as it once was to have people sharing snaps via email (the way it once was when roped into slide-shows of someone's latest holidays abroad), we trade ideas after seeing what one has done in their front/side/rear garden, we coo and ahh over snaps of grands born during lockdown the grandparents have yet to meet in person, we laugh with the 'cat staff' at snaps of the cats latest antics in the conservatories, and we praise profusely the art quality sunrise-sunset-moon/land/sea scape photos. 

Making do. We'll manage.