The Kerryman (South Kerry Edition)
Life in the times of Corona: my boring week’s holidays
DURING ANNUAL LEAVE, TADHG EVANS WAS NOMINATED TO RUN 5K, HIS DOG GOT A HAIRCUT, AND HE HAD AN AWKWARD RUN-IN WHILE BRINGING COWS FOR MILKING.
THE LOCK-DOWN HAS DONE STRANGE THINGS TO ME. BUT BECOMING JEALOUS OF MY 11-YEAROLD KING CHARLES? I WASN’T EXPECTING THAT
Wednesday, April 22
DEAR Diary – I’m three days into my week off, and I must say I’ve spent my free time uselessly.
It’s hard to keep track of the days during lock-down. It’s like a bad version of Christmas, where instead of Quality Street and decorations, there’s anxiety and more anxiety.
I don’t think my mind is functioning, being honest.
When I was bringing the cows down the road for my father today, I met a lady driving against us. I didn’t recognise her, but we said hello to each other anyway; you’ll get that in small communities.
“Grand day,” she says. “Yeah, it’s lovely. At least the weather is good,” says I as I walk past.
It’s then I notice a dog barking in her back seat, and the lady has turned around to calm him down. She hadn’t said “Grand day” at all. She’d said “Brandy” – presumably the dog’s name.
I don’t think she’d noticed I got it wrong. I hope not.
It’s all I’ve thought about since.
Thursday, April 23
DEAR Diary – There’s a trend going around on Instagram these days: people run five kilometres, donate €5 to charity and then nominate five others to do likewise. My sister nominated me today.
I haven’t a notion of running 5k. Why bother? Can I not just donate the €5 without running? And if, yes, the running is indeed an integral part of this challenge – which it definitely isn’t – I’m still not doing it. It’s my week off.
Aside from that nuisance, my day was fine. My other sister cooked burgers, and they were damn tasty.
They were homemade, and whatever way my sister cooked the rashers that went with it, they worked out great.
One family member said “It was just like a Big Mac, without the gherkins”.
My sister is a Home Economics teacher and, like all Home Economics teachers, I’m sure she has longed to be told she’d cooked something of McDonald’s quality.
Friday, April 24
DEAR Diary – The lock-down has done strange things to me, and will continue to do so – but becoming jealous of my overweight 11-year-old King Charles? I wasn’t expecting that.
It’s because Suzy – that’s her name – got a haircut this evening, whereas I haven’t been able to go to a barber in about two months. My mother does a good job sprucing her up, and for a while this heavy-breathing, plodding, blackand-white lump seems to get a new lease of life. Then she falls asleep again, as is her way.
There’s still something very loveable about Suzy, lacking severely in energy though she is, and the same can be said of her ‘little sister’. Millie is red and white, sprightly and – frankly – dim, but their differences make them a great pair all the same.
They’ve provided so much entertainment during this lock-down, which reminds me of just how badly they’ll be missed when they do eventually kick their respective buckets.
Sadly, Suzy sounds like a fastfood-guzzling, chain-smoking pub crawler nowadays, so her day is probably drawing near – and I don’t look forward to it.
The Weekend
DEAR Diary – I usually find that the last few days of annual leave are worse than the first day back from annual leave.
On the Saturday and Sunday before returning to work, I usually spend a lot of time regretting how I wasted my holidays, and questioning how my days off passed so quickly. In other words, instead of trying to salvage something from my last few hours off, I mope.
Not this time.
Yes, yet again I didn’t spend my week off doing anything exciting – but I couldn’t, so why should I feel bad about it? And no, this time the week didn’t fly by too quickly. It dragged.
So, for the first time in my life, I’m quite all right with my holidays coming to an end. I’m one of the lucky ones still working during these weird times, and while working from home isn’t as enjoyable as being in the office, it does give me the slightest taste of the ‘old normal’.
My mother serves profiteroles tonight as well, and they’re lovely – so all things added up, I’m not going to complain. For once.