Jacqui Merrington on Friday 11 things getting me through lockdown
Read Jacqui’s column every week in the Western Morning News
IT’S a cliché to say it’s not been an easy time for a lot of people. In fact, the last year has been an extraordinary challenge. Three hundred days ago when we were first placed in house arrest, it was new and unfamiliar territory. Now, lockdown just feels like normal life – at least to me. As someone said to me recently, we’re all in the same ocean, but we’re all in different boats. Our individual circumstances and our attitudes to lockdown are so completely different that we’re all dealing with it in our own ways and with our own coping mechanisms. But these are the key things getting me through lockdown that I’d like to share:
Wild swimming It turns out I’m not in a boat through lockdown, but instead splashing about in the freezing cold January water. At the start of Lockdown 2, I took my first winter swim in the River Dart and I’ve barely missed a day since. The camaraderie of wild swimmers, the initial shock of the cold water and that feeling of being out in nature, where nothing else matters except breathing, taking a few leisurely breaststrokes to stay afloat and the surrounding nature are all addictive. And that feeling of euphoria when I’ve done it (and had that blissful post-swim hot shower) lasts all day.
Creative homeschooling I know I’m in a very small minority here, but I love homeschooling. Having my girls around, knowing what they’re learning and finding fun ways to help them through their homework still feels like a privilege even after three weeks. I’m relearning apostrophes and adjectives, subtractions and science experiments and generally indulging my inner teacher.
Family time Going for our daily walk, playing board games, baking cakes and reading to my kids at night are things I never really had time for. But lockdown has given me time with my family. We can’t organise anything, we can’t see anyone, but we’ve got time back to spend with each other...
The little things Now I don’t have a social life, I appreciate the little things more. Spring flowers emerging. A day without rain. A parcel arriving. Bumping into a friend. A quiet night in...
TV Netflix has become my best friend. Tiger King was my highlight of Lockdown 1. Friday nights were Succession night for a long period last year. And then Schitts Creek came along and brightened my evening. I’m still looking for my Lockdown 3 binge series. Any suggestions, please let me know.
Running I’m an occasional runner. I’ve gone a whole decade without ever running for more than a bus. I then ran the London Marathon. Then I gave up again for a few years before hauling myself out of bed for Bideford’s Swift Half. At the end of last year I started running once a week. This year, I’ve run every single day on a mission to run 100km in January for Cancer Research UK. And I’m loving it.
Podcasts I can’t get enough of podcasts at the moment. Happy Place, Joe Wicks, Woman’s Hour, Giles Coren Has No Idea and How To Fail are currently top of my list but again, I’m always open to suggestions.
Wine Wednesdays I try not to have a glass of wine every day but I have to say that Wine Wednesday has become a key marker in a lockdown week. Hats off to the Dry January people. I’m afraid dry January was cancelled for me this year.
Takeaway curries Our Friday nights have become takeaway night, thanks to the brilliant Tamarind Tree in Totnes. Best curry in the South West, to my mind.
WhatsApp I do miss friends and family. And I’m not a massive fan of the group Zoom calls that became so ubiquitous in the first lockdown and almost impossible to avoid – after all, how can you claim to be busy when no one is doing anything? But WhatsApp has become a crucial link with my best friends, family – even work.
The vaccine Every few days, my GP friend texts to let us know how many people she’s vaccinated that day. Every night, I watch the news and see the number of vaccinations rocketing up. This is fuelling my hope that lockdown is just another phase. I’ve even booked a holiday for June – clinging on to the hope that we’ll all have our freedom back by then and normal life will resume.
PS – Thank you to Mike Roper, who wrote to me after reading this column and sent me his daughter Lynne’s book, Wild Woman Swimming, this week. Lynne Roper, a keen wild swimmer, former RAF officer and paramedic, died four years ago of a brain tumour. Her book was published two years later with her share of the profits donated to St Luke’s Hospice. I look forward to reading it.
That feeling of being in nature, where nothing else matters except breathing, is addictive