This time last week, I was feeling a little anxious at the dwindling contents of my fridge and larder. And then, I managed to secure a delivery slot from Asda, which made me feel much better. I managed to get most things I needed in my cart, but was advised to check in before midnight on the day before the delivery was due, to make any changes. The next day, I received an email to advise me that many of the items I had ordered were out of stock, so I signed back in and ordered replacements. Around two thirds of my order was unavailable. I tried to sign in before midnight to do a final check, but there were thousands of customers ahead of me in the online queue, so I gave up, as there was nothing else I could do. We were by this time very low on fresh food, and the fridge was empty of meat, fruit, vegetables and dairy, so the next day, Mr C braved Aldi to stock up, list in hand. He managed to get most things, he told me on his return, but nobody in Aldi had been able to find one of the items on the list. Rice noodles. I had made the schoolgirl error of failing to use punctuation in my shopping list. In the future, every shopping list I ever write will be overflowing with semi colons, hyphens and apostrophes. And most definitely commas. Commas are essential it seems. Needless to say, he bought neither rice nor noodles. Which is a shame because we really needed them, and Asda had sold out.
At 7.30pm the Asda delivery arrived, and I thought it looked much bigger than expected. The delivery guy loaded my shopping into bags and left them all at my door. When I unpacked, I found that many of the items which had gone out of stock must then have come back into stock, so I had an excess. And my fridge, freezer and cupboards were all then full to bursting. I went from being worried about running out, to feeling guilty about having too much. However, I had not factored in the homecoming of my son, who has the appetite of a bear, and can eat a whole loaf's worth of toast and still have room for weetabix. And that is just for breakfast.
The difficulties I am now encountering are trivial, compared to those of people who are ill, and those who are separated from their families. But they are difficulties which are also being experienced by many of my friends. Adult children returning home (two in my case), being used to eating what they want and when they want. I am trying to be strict, and to ration the biscuits, the crisps, the cheese and the bread. They should know better than to raid the fridge or the larder for food which I am probably going to use as part of a meal. They are adults, and I shouldn't need to police the kitchen. I am thinking of asking Derbyshire Police to lend me some of their drones! The struggle is real.
And I am thinking that perhaps I should stop buying crisps and biscuits because it causes too many problems. If I just buy very basic food with no treats, then there will be nothing to argue about, and no need for me to stand guard. Although then we will have the battle with them thinking that they can combine their daily exercise with a trip to the local shop to top up on snacks for themselves. I am trying hard to keep them safe, and to make sure everyone has enough food, but after one week, I am close to screaming,
'Eat it all, go to the shops. Mix with other spoilt brats who cannot live without Pringles and Buenos, and bring home the virus that I have tried so hard to keep away from our family.'
And don't get me started on the arguments. It is like living with Lannisters if they houseshared with Beavis and Butthead. I feel like The Penguin in The Blues Brothers, and am thinking I might pick up a big stick when I go for my walk to the woods later this afternoon. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ujxDA9VsQG4 Failing that, maybe a shovel would do. Like Jake and Elwood, my kids and husband also have 'filthy mouths and bad attitudes.'
I am considering the need to move from the current two sitting mealtimes, to four (to separate the warring factions). Planned family games nights, movie nights, and playing cards and roulette in the Moulton Casino have now been shelved, as bad ideas. I am however considering introducing The Hunger Games.
And on top of these petty problems, I have lost my writing den, as everyone else needs a desk and a quiet place to work. And then there is the internet, the bane of my life, and another problem for which I am held entirely responsible by everyone in the house. And they all have a reason why they need to use it more than anyone else in the world;
'I have to follow my usual school timetable'
'I have a group meeting and it's worth 40 points and will go towards my final grade',
'My lecturers are only online between 9 and 4pm.'
I hope I am making you feel that you are not alone with your struggles, which (if they are like mine) are inconsequential in light of the serious business of The Virus, but which are still causing me considerable pain. I can't even go out for a drive or to the cinema to escape it all, which is what I usually do when it all gets too much.
I am continuing to run every other day, and I am actually starting to appreciate it, maybe because it provides an escape to the aforementioned family sagas (I so want to live in a happy household where I can enjoy them all being home), but also because I have at the back of my mind the niggle that there may soon come a time when we are not able to go outside for exercise either. Note that I am only appreciating it; enjoying the run is still some way off.
I have made a few new friends whilst out pounding the streets, and I am finding that in the past week, most people I encounter are more (distantly) sociable. I always see a man in his seventies with a walking frame, and at the weekend, I passed him as I was on my warm down walk home. We had a little chat and he said I was doing well with my running efforts. He told me that he had come 5th in the 1964 Tokyo Olympics in the 1500 metre race. I was very impressed, and said,
'So you were the 5th fastest in the world,' and he commented that I am faster than him, (although not by much) which made me smile. He said in his day, he had run 4 sub 4 minute miles, and I told him about my dad, who was very close to being the first, but was beaten to it by Roger Bannister. He asked me Dad's name, and said it rang a bell, which was lovely. Little things like this make my day.
Yesterday my highlight was a FaceTime call from my niece and her two children, where the little ones showed me how to do a cartwheel. It is a pity that my immediate family are less thoughtful, and that it falls to strangers and little children to brighten my day. I am feeling sad and frustrated and this is only the beginning of Week 2. And the problems could be so easily sorted by my kids being more considerate and gentler with each other. In Italy and Spain, so many families are losing people they love and care about, and I wish everyone (in my house at least) could be nicer and more appreciative of each other, and be thankful for what we have. And while I am waiting for that to happen, in the meantime, I am still managing to find joy in the love of my dogs, and from being out in the fresh air.
And finally, some good news to share; I might actually have completed editing my book by Friday's deadline, as long as I am able to use my MacBook. Currently sharing it with L, who does not have a machine of her own. Keeping my fingers crossed that I will get it finished, and then can work on my synopsis and query letter, and perhaps even start the process of submitting to agents within the next few weeks. Hope springs eternal.
Keep safe my lovelies....
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