Spying through the garden fence

I was sitting at the table in our garden yesterday, resting after having lunch in the sunshine, my mind wandering, when I noticed a pair of beady eyes watching me through a gap in the fence. In the split second that our eyes made contact they were gone again.

"Chris," I called, "I just caught Mary spying on me."

"It's not the first time. See those holes?" he pointed to where there had been gaps left by knots in the wood, lower down the fence, "I plugged them last week."

He immediately got to work finding something we could cover the gap with.

Mary is our 87 year old neighbour, we share a drive with her. According to her daughter in law she has Parkinson's and a touch of dementia. Chris says we could have worse neighbours, noisy kids or yobbos, so he puts up with her. 

She has a tendency to be nosy and loves nothing more than gossiping about people to the neighbours. When I recently cut Chris's hair in the garden she'd obviously seen me doing it and asked him if I was a hairdresser. Chris lied and told her I was and now the neighbourhood has been informed that I have my own salon.

Shortly after catching her peeking Mary called over the fence. "Chris, Chris! Lockdown ends on Monday!"   

She seems to have been oblivious to the rules of the lockdown since the beginning, trotting out to the shops two or three times a day with a scarf wrapped around her face, her crimson bobble hat pulled down tight over her head and her wrap-around mirrored sunglasses finishing the look. She's been sent home at least three times from the hospital for turning up unannounced and her family appear to have absolved themselves of all responsibility.

Mary and I don't see eye to eye and I won't take any of her shit but I'm conscious of her age and condition and despite what people think, I am compassionate given her situation. I was the one that turned the hob off and alerted her when I smelled gas billowing out of her back door, and when she fell in the bath and was covered in bruises I offered our services if she needed anything from the shops. We're not mates, and she torments me, but I'm not a monster.

Mary is clearly aware of the lockdown but I think it's safe to say she doesn't completely grasp it. What little she reveals to us is, I suspect, taken from headlines in The Sun. Our warnings to her have been ignored or forgotten and her family are nowhere to be seen. It must be lonely for her in the house on her own but I suppose this is nothing new for her as she's lived alone for years.

I think her sons should be doing more, but maybe they're on the phone to her every day and I shouldn't speculate. It's hypocritical of me to judge them anyway, after all I've not seen my dad since Christmas day and I only speak to him once or twice a fortnight. He too lives alone, though he is less mobile than Mary, and less inclined to tell the neighbours that I'm a hairdresser.

Part of the reason I haven't seen my dad is because he doesn't live down the road and we don't have a car. I planned to go over for his 70th in March but travel restrictions kiboshed that. His life has shrunk noticeably in recent years but the lockdown has affected him in different ways. He's been unable to get Tesco deliveries because of increased demand so now my cousin goes to see him every day and takes him a hot meal. She's been a superstar and arguably the lockdown has worked out better for him because of her efforts.

Chris's parents are royally fucked off with staying at home. They're in their eighties, and very mobile, so not at all happy with being told to stay at home. They did as was advised and expected for a long time but recently they've decided to loosen the self imposed reins a little.

They appear to have the same weird fascination with supermarkets that Chris has, so they've been doing the rounds. Sainsbury's, Aldi, Waitrose, M&S Food and Tesco have all been visited in the last week. God knows why they need to go to the supermarket so often. Maureen recently revealed to me that they currently have 63 toilet rolls at home, tins of beans and salmon coming out of their ears, fridges and freezers filled to bursting with ready meals, bleach like it's going out of fashion and more cereal than can be made from the wheat fields of East Anglia. On top of that they have a milkman delivering fresh dairy a couple of times a week. 

This isn't unusual lockdown hoarding, it's always been like this. They had no concerns when the supermarkets were being stripped bare a few weeks ago, they were sitting on a pile of groceries that could've filled Marks and Spencer twice over. None of it ever wasted and all of it accumulated on a rolling basis over a number of months.

I can appreciate how frustrating it must be for them having to stay at home. I have the benefit of continued work and the Government advises that I can leave the house every day - and I'm bored shitless. They are being told to 'shield' themselves by not going anywhere till June.

Maureen especially needs more human contact than WhatsApp and the telly can offer because she's looking after Brian who suffers from Alzheimer's. He still retains much of his character, he's charming and funny, but the difference over recent years is noticeable.  He's always checking his pockets for his car keys, he's very forgetful and often repeats the same comment or question over and over, a favourite being 'How's life in general?' He has a habit of drifting off.

He wouldn't be able to look after himself any more and so Maureen has taken on many of the things Brian would once have done. For the time being at least he can still drive short distances with Maureen as a passenger but I think this is likely to come to an end sooner rather than later. I've not spoken to them about what happens then; they live on a small housing estate with not much within walking distance and Maureen doesn't drive.

The obvious response would be to give or sell the car to Chris and we can spend more time helping them out but I don't think it's as easy as that. The car is a symbol of a much bigger thing and giving it up, as they will inevitably have to do, will mean giving up their independence. The longer they can keep using the car, even for the little things, the longer they remain self reliant.

I've not had a car for four years and you find work-arounds but I live somewhere well serviced by public transport, with lots of amenities within walking distance, and I'm not 84 years old.

So back to the lockdown - is it worse for the elderly? In many cases yes, just look at what's happened in nursing homes and care homes around the world. I have a friend whose mum is in a home where four people have died from Covid 19 and who is battling it herself right now. I can't begin to imagine what that's like either for mother or daughter.

Under normal circumstances my dad would probably be better in a home but I'm glad he isn't right now. He has his emergency call button if he falls, my cousin sees him every day and he has some social care from the NHS. Right now I'm happy with that and thankful he isn't in a more vulnerable position.

The lockdown is obviously different for everyone. It would be wrong to assume those over a certain age are all in the same boat, yet the Government guidelines have done that to some extent. That being said I think it was inevitable given the timescales and level of knowledge about the coronavirus they had at the time the guidance was issued.

Many people are unhappy about the way the Government have dealt with the situation, and that's understandable. I wonder though how anyone would have done it and if a different Government would have managed it better. One thing's for certain, we'll never know that.

This Government and its response will be judged in the fullness of time, probably in comparison to other countries, and then eventually, many decades from now, it won't matter to anyone who was in charge, it will have become a piece of history about our country, to be learnt from or otherwise.

Right now though, before this pandemic becomes historical fact, and before it goes through the rigmarole of politics, it's about the people that are living it and that's why, when I caught Mary spying on me, I let it slide.

Out Of Stock

Asda are scheduled to deliver our groceries this evening between 7.30 and 8.30. We usually use Tesco but delivery slots, across all supermarkets, are as rare as hen's teeth during the lockdown so, for the second time in three weeks, Asda it is. Earlier this week I spent a gruelling twenty one minutes queuing to access the Morrison's website only to be told, when I finally got through, there were no delivery slots available, and when I tried Sainsbury's they give me short shrift too. Apparently they are only accepting orders from vulnerable people, though quite how they know if I'm vulnerable or not just from my postcode I'll never know.

Perhaps there are no vulnerable folk in Chorlton, all too well fed on hummus and Bolivian organic quinoa to be struggling. The fact of the matter is that I'm not vulnerable but we've been using online grocery services for about three years now, ever since we got rid of the cars, and the thought of traipsing round a supermarket then trying to get a week's worth of shopping home without a vehicle, is depressing.

When we've done it in the past we've called an Uber but I'm slightly concerned at the moment about the prospect of being cooped up in what is essentially a mobile Coronavirus incubator. Still, after this week the likelihood of getting a delivery slot is slim so I think we're going to have to bite the bullet, strap on the face masks and wander down to Morrison's. In the meantime though, we have tonight's delivery which was booked over three weeks ago when the world was slightly less surreal.


I'm not sure who is in charge of making substitutions at Asda when they're out of stock but judging by what happened last time I suspect they don't take their role too seriously. One of the missing items on that drop off was a bottle of 'Premium Collection' Viognier which I was quite looking forward to. Upon discovering it absent from the shelves, however, the clown on picking duty thought it completely acceptable to substitute it with a bottle of that staple of the seventies dinner party, Black Tower. I was distraught, naturally, not that it stopped me from drinking it of course. Waste not want not and all that.

I've just had an email to tell me what's changed on today's order and while some of it is absolutely acceptable - Rigatoni instead of Penne, flat leaf parsley instead of curly leaf - I was agog when I read that the fancy vanilla ice cream I spent ages choosing last night is being swapped for strawberry, and (horror of horrors) the two bars of Galaxy chocolate are being replaced by Twirls! Somebody is having a laugh at my expense.

In addition to that the Maldon salt, which I threw in the basket at the last minute but didn't really need yet, is being replaced by rock salt, the sort you need a grinder for, a grinder which we don't have. I'll save it for winter and use it on the drive I think.

In addition we will not be getting either Chris's hair dye, a lockdown whim which he knew he could experiment with safe in the knowledge that nobody would see the results, or the broccoli quiche. Now I understand that substituting Light Ash for Frosted Beige is a dangerous game to play, particularly as they're not accepting returns at the moment, but broccoli quiche? Surely a nice cheese and onion, or a fresh summer vegetables could have been dug up from somewhere, Christ, I'd even accept a flan if push came to shove!

Ahead of tonights grocery drop off, Chris has popped out for some essentials we forgot to order, latex gloves and antibacterial gel to hand, and while he's there he's going to keep an eye out for the latest summer shade.

In other delivery news, we ordered a tin of masonry paint nearly two weeks ago which still hasn't been delivered. The other items in the order arrived, a few days late but at least we have them. When Chris queried the missing item Homebase told him that it has to come from the manufacturer, Crown Paints who I know are only some twenty five miles away in East Lancashire, to their shop in Altrincham to then be dispatched from there to us. I absolutely appreciate that the world is on its arse at the moment but I'm struggling to see how logistics have broken down to the extent that a tin of Alpine Blue takes nearly three weeks to travel across the North West. Maybe Homebase are helping prepare the new Nightingale hospital in the city centre, in which case I will absolutely forgive them, or perhaps their drivers are poorly, or the staff at Crown. Who knows? I tell you what though, when it arrives it's going to transform our terrace!

POST SCRIPTUM:
Chris has just arrived back from his shopping trip with all manner of goodies, like an April Father Christmas! He now has his hair dye and by this evening will be a bombshell of forties movie proportions, he also brought back a large bar of Galaxy chocolate which has made my day, and another addition for the Gnome Zone at the back of the garden!

Toilet Paper

Closures continue all over the place, restaurants and bars by far the biggest hit at the moment. Public transport in London and Birmingham are reducing, or have reduced, their services partly in response to the continued rise in cases of COVID-19 and partly simply because fewer people are using them.

I went to the post office yesterday to send my dad's birthday present which I'm hoping will be with him tomorrow though I have definitely decided that I'm not going to go over. Robert is going for a night which makes me feel a bit better. He and Nat are due to move house next week which is going to be interesting.

After the post office we went to Morrisons, the shelves are still empty of pasta, loo paper, painkillers and flour but most things are still available and the place was busier than I expected.

Chris rode to his parents to see them while I was working, took them round Waitrose, and a few hours later brought them back here to see the garden and meet the cats that keep coming round. They brought with them a bunch of goodies: pies, soup, cleaning stuff that we don't really need, and a nine pack of toilet paper.

This obsession with loo roll is weird. It even affects us because with the shelves being empty, and being on your last four pack, you find yourself scanning shops on the off chance you can get some more before you're left without.

I have to say Maureen seemed quite blasé about the whole thing. She's 80 and Brian about 83 or 84, and she'd marched around the shops with Chris and came here without, it appeared a care in the world. They really ought to be locking themselves away for a few weeks already given Government advice. I'm a bit concerned that Chris has a cough, has been out and about, and is still spending time with them, especially as they're quite susceptible to colds and the like, and usually have a couple of bad ones each winter.

I cancelled today's meeting at Levenshulme Old Library because I'm being quite cautious and it would've meant a trip on a bus and being in what is essentially a community centre just after a social session. I was due to meet Scott, the director of my play in December, to check the place out as a venue but I've switched that to an online Zoom meeting to go through the planning and finances with him. There's plenty of time and lots of stuff that can be done at home.

Tesco are delivering this afternoon, though what I'll get is anybody's guess. I logged on yesterday to check something and nearly a quarter of what I'd ordered wasn't available so I had to change it all. Andrex is back in stock it seems - but you can only have two packets. It appears I've become an unwitting hoarder!