Distantly Social

Despite several abortive attempts at achieving some uniformity of text this new Blogger interface refuses to cooperate, no matter what I do. The draft post is uniform but the published post shows different sizes, line breaks and fonts. It's driven me insane!!! I hope it's readable on whatever device you're using! 

 

Throughout this whole pandemic and lockdown I've been trying to walk on a daily basis. It was called essential exercise at the start of tthe restrictions. I don't know what it's called now! My walk became very much a lifeline to deal with the mental load of a lockdown which was for me tantamount to self isolation.

And somehow I wanted to put into words my morning walk and this is what I've come up with. 

 

 Can't follow the yellow brick road right now, it's too early in the morning. I'm following the grey macadam road, the one with the white line running right up the middle. I can't walk along the white line for I have my headphones on and I might not hear the car that manages to mow me down. So I’d never know if it was a Bentley or a Mini that served me my notice. But the end of the grey macadam road is like emerging from a gloomy tunnel into a dome of blue and sunlight.

So this is a sunset painting but this is looking west to the roundelay

I go anticlockwise around the Roundelay up along towards the Dogwalkers' Meeting Zone, greeting the pigeons, the magpies and crows as I pass. I try to ignore the overflowing litter bins resplendent with lockdown takeaway packaging. I take care to, not necessarily avoid, but secure a general social distance from other walkers and most particularly the joggers who do not care about COVID-19 or social distancing. They will jostle you from behind rather than alter their trajectory. And their huffing and puffing will spread any given disease if you get too close….

I come full circle and go clockwise round the Roundelay, looking out to sea and seeing the early morning lights like a pearl necklace along the coastline. Then westwards, sometimes on the path, it depends on the proximity of the people and the joggers, sometimes on the grass, uneven, with the gift of dog poo presenting a messy obstacle if you're not careful. I pace the Road to Nowhere which takes me off the main path briefly. I round the bend past the 39 steps where Richard Hannay climbs if you’ve a strong enough imagination, to the Peacock Tree, resplendent in its very oakiness, Onwards, along to the Grand Staircase for views of unparalleled beauty. Watch out for commuters though, who haven't time for Covid fear, for the train is due. And they will descend the Grand Staircase, step-by-step, to reach their pandemic platforms. On I surge, pathwards, tiptoeing, meandering alongside the Covid Stone Snake to the Bermuda Triangle where all is never quite lost.

For me it’s onwards, eastwards, down along the Grassy Knoll where there are no book depositories so I know its safe, past the Shelter, of salt scorched rotting wood where the homeless sleep and the lovers linger, not necessarily in that order. Up to the Holocaust Tree where I touch my heart and remember all those who did not survive their pandemic of fascist prejudice to witness this pandemic. The Secret Oak where you could hide your clandestine messages in the crevasse in its trunk, extracting love letters which your secret lover might have left, then clockwise round the Triangulay -  so much open space here you can see the comings and goings of land and sea. Sky and clouds gaze down. Slightly downhill now and hurtling towards the Traffic Lights which remind you, in case you dare to forget, that you're not in the countryside, you're in an arrogant seaside town trying so hard to disappear up its own arse and succeeding……. at times.

It's a spider junction so you gotta have your wits about you when you cross the road to avoid being hit by an insomniac vehicle. This is 5.30 in the morning. Then it's the home straight down Blackberry Way which is the magical land that leads to the Enchanted Castle from Norman times. But it stands in silent ruins now  regarding this estuary, or is it actually there to view the annual migration of the Brent Geese.

I allow my gaze to wander across the panorama. Knowing that when I turn my back and start my return journey and make my way back along the same route, almost, the best part of my day in this lockdown lockup will be over. As I make my way back, already, the rest of the world is waking and evident.

Day Umpteen - Umpteenth Blogpost

 Here I am again. Very much changed in mood from the early days of this blog. So I suppose I've succeeded in my intention to see if this thing might have an affect on me!  

 These last few weeks have been a struggle. My throat flared again. I phoned the surgery thinking that I might actually get a face-to-face appointment and somebody would look at the damn throat. Nope.  Talked to the nurse again. She put me on a course of antibiotics. I finished them a week ago. There is an improvement but my throat doesn't feel right and hasn't since the 8th of August when it first hit me. Then on Sunday I started peeing blood! I found that extremely frightening. My understanding is that it's a serious thing and needs investigation because it could be bladder cancer. I knew I had to phone the doctor and I really believe that I would be examined. No. The nurse again. She's decided it's a UTI and prescribed yet another course of antibiotics. I think she's probably right but it's not the point. I think something like that needs checking. Insistence on no face-to-face consultations is quite alarming. And my friend says the surgery is like Fort Knox to try and get into. I know that's not the case everywhere from listening to people who don't live in this area. Anyway I prepared some urine samples and my friend's partner is kindly taking them down to the surgery for me. It's too far for me to walk at the moment. I'm drinking copiously. And peeing a lot. I hope they test them thoroughly. And I hope there's nothing amiss in the results. But it feels like I'm doing something. In spite of the fact that I wasn't feeling great yesterday I had to go to the chemist to pick up the antibiotic prescription. It was the usual gauntlet of people who haven't a clue about social distancing And who regard me rather critically when I make sure I am maintaining the 2 m distance from them. So I was facemasked up and following the instructions inside the chemist which I'm quite used to now. But although the nurse had said she'd pinged the prescription through, the pharmacist was faffing about it as he couldn't find it. My heart was sinking and when he did find it he didn't have enough of the capsules for the course I've been prescribed! I was horrified at the thought of having to come back again the next day but he has said he will deliver them this afternoon. I'm curious to see if that will actually happen. And the nurse told me to read the instructions in the packet very thoroughly. There were no instructions. I found some online.

But I guess my troubles are nothing compared to President of the United States who has been hospitalised with Covid. Oh, and discharged now I believe.

In this country the infection rate is rising. Hospitalisations and deaths are increasing. So we are at a stage that I've anticipated for some time. We are no nearer returning to any normal life than we were back in March. And this ideal to find a vaccine and the faith people are placing in the creation of a vaccine upsets me. Vaccines to take years to develop. Effective vaccines that is. Vaccines that have been truly tested for the side-effects and the long-term effects etc.

And I feel like I'm living on a building site. The new people who sound like Phil Mitchell and Sharon Watts are having a massive room in the roof built. The sensation of living in a goldfish bowl is acute. And I was thinking it was only me but talking to my neighbour next door she feels exactly the same. So much so that she actually said she wanted to move. I hope they don't because I dread who might move in. As is the norm nowadays the builders have to have a radio on all day at full volume that everyone for streets around has to hear. I suppose we need to be grateful that it isn't the height of summer when everybody wants to be outside because it's just so intrusive.  Have you noticed that people who play music nreasonably loudly on building sites and in cars never play music that you want to listen to? You never think, oh great ,I love this track. It's always crap. I find that I have to do most things at the front of the house Unless I'm doing something and I can put my own music on loud enough to drown it out.And now I see that my neighbours the other side are having some massive structure built at the end of the garden. They had a new shed a couple of years ago that's been dismantled, still in perfectly good condition. I do hope it will be reused somehow. The rose trellis they so lovingly painted all through the summer and the roses they beautifully nurtured  - all gone. The block paving they had put down about three years ago all ripped up. The money and the waste. It's beyond me. They barely have a garden now. But it's building sounds in stereo at the back of my house.

My friend ,who had cancer surgery on her kidney is progressing well. But she's had a dreadful setback to contend with this week. Her niece, who is actually only a few years younger than she, the daughter of a much older sister, suffered a disrupted aorta on Sunday. She was in emergency surgery for seven hours in the early hours of Sunday morning. They are continuing to sedate her. When they tried to bring her round she had two seizures. It's really not looking good. The whole family are in shreds. So my problems are minimal and I shouldn't be whingeing.

Is there anything good? Well I had a nice little surprise this morning. Since the 70s I've been a fan of Gary Numan. 2 or 3 years ago when he played a concert in my hometown I got to meet him! He is such a nice man. Towards the end of the month his autobiography is being published. As I'm a book blogger I very cheekily emailed the publisher to ask if I could have an advance proof to read and review for my book blog. That was several weeks ago and I heard nothing. But today I had a lovely email from the publicist who apologised that they weren't producing any proofs but has sent me............ an electronic copy of the book! I'm thrilled. I don't like e-books but for Gary I'll make an exception. I have pre-ordered a copy of the actual book but it's giving me a kick to start reading it now.