As I put the finishing touches to yet another novel, struggling with difficult literary concepts like how to ‘show’ not ‘tell’, I think about my life. For a year I’ve lived in a virtual world. When writing, I’m internalising a story. Listening to the radio, watching TV, reading the paper or ever-changing social media, my body’s static but the world’s viewed inside my head. Tonight we plan to play Trivial Pursuit with friends but, of course, on Zoom. Even following my favourite team, Aston Villa, on my radio’s sport channel, the ups and downs of winning and losing take place inside my head. How to get out of this virtual world? Is anything ‘real’ happening? Yes. On Tuesday we’re both getting our first covid jab in Bromsgrove, 5 miles away. Couldn’t wait any longer to hear from our GP but discovered I could actually book both 1st and 2nd jabs online. First outing for a year. Hope the car starts ok. Will we get bad side effects? All of that looks ‘real’ at last. Can I soon get back to proper, physical, life please?
24th January 2021
Last night I watched All the President’s Men, starring a very young Robert Redford and Dustin Hoffman. Ah the differences in work culture between then and now. It was largely set in a giant newspaper office at the Washington Post. All the reporters were men, the few women acting as secretaries or telephonists. The senior bosses were all older men who had (correctly!) taken decades to climb the managerial ladder. All the staff were white Caucasian. Each desk held a clunky typewriter and a heavy black phone with a dial. After typing, paper was ripped from the roller (wrong), instead of first pulling down a lever and carefully taking the paper away from the platen (as I was taught.) And if you wanted to make an outside call, you needed to first ask an external (female) operator. People chain smoked, they ran along the streets for an urgent scoop and no-one was fat. Those were the days. Government corruption, I hear you say? Oh, nothing much different there of course...
17th January 2021
Him indoors has a birthday today. Says he feels older than he’s ever been. I tell him he is older than he’s ever been. We had our first outing in weeks the other day to collect a prescription from the chemist alongside our GP surgery, the latter still shuttered and barred. So, shouting through my muffling face mask: “Will we get our vaccine next door?” Reply: “No, you’ll need to go to West Heath surgery, a mile away.” So, if she knew, why hadn’t anyone told us? Older friends tell me that surgeries around here are indeed amalgamating vaccinations, which is more convenient for staff but means that hundreds of the elderly, some in wheelchairs, others with frames, need to queue outside in the snow and rain for 3+ hours. That can’t be right. Yesterday I read that Salisbury cathedral’s been adapted as a covid centre. Let’s hope that Polonium isn’t in the mix! And on the BBC, it’s like Big Brother, clamping down on any awkward questions. Even TalkRadio was pulled down from YouTube because presenters dared to challenge the official line. Happy Birthday L. Life will never be the same again.
10th January 2021
Those who were expecting this new year to bring calm couldn’t have been more wrong. For those, like us, still living in our government-imposed bubble, life seems strangely surreal. For Americans reading this, perhaps still planning vacations: under your new regime, please take note. We’ve been under enforced ‘house arrest’ now for almost a year. We haven’t been shopping for over a year and are only allowed to go outside within walking distance of the house. All our food is delivered by drivers who keep their distance. We had hoped to have braved the covid vaccine by now but only silence from our local GP surgery, where all is shuttered and barred like the mental institution it used to be a century ago. I read that most GPs aren’t actually trained to give vaccinations, so what exactly are they doing? They don’t appear to be seeing non-covid patients, just phone appointments, so it’s not a good idea to get ill with something serious at the moment. Couldn’t the staff at least send registered local patients an informative email? I used to laugh at ‘far-fetched’ Star Trek episodes depicting scenes like this, but as I gaze yet again out of our window, will life ever return to normal anytime soon? Not as we know it, Jim!
3rd January 2021
A new year is like looking down a long hill, wondering what obstacles I’ll face as I hurtle towards the unknown. When I wrote Pensioners in Paradis in 2017, the idea of living in France was wonderful. All that sunshine and bon appetit living couldn’t go wrong. But then that first whiff of Brexit blew over the Channel. I had a mini epiphany. If I did nothing, as many of our fellow British expats recommended, I’d have hit severe future obstacles which I wouldn’t have had the physical energy to overcome. Fast forward. Was I right to make that reverse journey, the worst, most stressful house move I’ve ever made? Yes! I’m so relieved to be back in England. In our old French village, hardly any English residents now remain. Just this week I read that English banks, credit/debit cards are now off limits to EU residents, making it more expensive and difficult for oldies to access British pensions. So, my new year resolution: go with your gut and ignore what other well-meaning friends and family say. Your best advisor is yourself. Happy New Year!
