Author Gill Sims reflects on 2020 so far

The author of Why Mummy Drinks on making, and abandoning, your own sourdough bread, endless board games plus the joy of 24- 7 family time...

Like most people, I greeted the news of the first lockdown in late March with dismay.

Quite apart from the threat of a potentially fatal virus, the thought of homeschooling, of being unable to go out and see friends and family, of no meals outs, or impromptu coffees ( OK, cocktails) was daunting. However, as a child I was a great devotee of Eleanor H. Porter’s book Pollyanna, about a plucky young orphan who seeks the joy in the most adverse of circumstances by playing the ‘ Glad Game’ which involves finding something to be glad about, no matter what. With hindsight, Pollyanna was quite irritating, and had I known her in real life, we almost certainly wouldn’t have been friends. But, Pollyanna- esque, I resolved that since lockdown was happening the only thing to be done was to look on the bright side.

I envisaged myself taking up yoga, and running in this enforced time at home. Getting up each morning and starting the day with a sun salutation, then a brisk five mile jog and home for a kale smoothie, before rousing my precious moppets with a cheery smile and we all embarked on the day’s learning journey together, with frequent pauses for more smoothies and maybe some kind of healthy but delicious cake. I was going to read all those books I had been meaning to for years. I would take up gardening and actually grow our own fruit and vegetables instead of hopelessly surveying the overgrown bramble patch that is our garden.

In the evenings, after a wonderful homecooked meal featuring some of those vegetables, we would play board games. And I would cherish this time with my husband at home, as usually he works away for half the week, so this would also be an opportunity for us to finally spend time together instead of passing like ships in the night, sending terse texts regarding the need for lunchbox supplies.

So, I started lockdown with the best intentions, I really did. I went to bed each night quite convinced that the very next morning would be the day I got up and did yoga/ smoothies/ running. Yet by the time I had cajoled bad tempered children out of bed to ensure they were at least slumped semi upright in time for their online school registration at 9am, somehow the only logical next step was tea and toast. Thankfully, I did not have to homeschool, as my cherubs were old enough for the school to provide the work online, something for which I am and forever will be immensely grateful. I did make ( and eat) a lot of cake though. None of it was healthy. I avoided banana bread, but thoroughly embraced the lockdown sourdough maker stereotype, until something unspeakable happened to the starter, and I actually became quite afraid of it, sitting there, festering sullenly, and I decided it was ludicrous spending two days making a loaf of bread, when the Co- op does very nice sourdough. The books were, obviously, replaced by Tiger King. As for the gardening – I hacked some brambles, then decided they were really too jaggy and reverted to my former use of the garden, which was for drinking wine in.

I did play boardgames with the children. There was a painful game of Trivial Pursuit where one child denied ever having heard of Roald Dahl; a game of Snakes and Ladders so long that we all lost the will to live, and an unfortunate evening when my husband taught my son to play poker to impart to him the perils of gambling, only for my beloved to declare the game over after he had lost £ 10 ( in 10p instalments!) to his little darling.

My plans may have gone awry, but I was still far more fortunate than most. We were all at home together; we were all healthy; my husband and I were both able to work from home and I am one of the lucky ones who has not yet lost anyone I love to Covid- 19.

There were unexpected things and moments of joy that happened too – like accidently starting a ‘ curry club’ for 20 people. What began as making an excessively large pot of dhal, and giving leftovers to friends who were shielding, evolved quickly into spending weekends cooking an enormous meal of curries, rotis, bhajis, and of course, that fine Scottish staple, chicken pakora, and scurrying round on a Saturday evening leaving Tupperware boxes on doorsteps, shouting news from driveways. I learned a huge amount by experimenting but more importantly, at a time when we were

“I hacked back some brambles, then reverted to my former use of the garden, for drinking wine in”

all so distant, and my friends and family who were forced to shield were feeling isolated, it was a way for us all to safely share a meal. Like so many people found, lockdown was a time, like Pollyanna, for finding happiness, joy and love where you least expected and making the most of them. Ellen, the main character in my new book, Why Mummy’s Sloshed, also frequently experiences the same thwarting of her lovingly made plans, usually by her own family, who are generally unaware of how they are supposed to fit into Ellen’s Glorious Vision. Her giant, starving teenagers are more interested in computer games and Instagram, and even her chickens hate her. And with the sudden realisation that it won’t be long till they leave home, she is left wondering who she is.

But like all of us, she often finds that though life never turns out how you are expecting, there is always joy somewhere. Though I don’t think she would have been friends with Pollyanna either.

Why Mummy’s Sloshed by Gill Sims is out now, Harpernonfiction ( £ 12.99)

“Thankfully I did not have to homeschool as my cherubs were old enough for the school to provide the work online – something for which I am and forever will be immensely grateful. I did make ( and eat) a lot of cake, though”