Easter, but not as we know it
WHAT a peculiar Easter! Six of us eating outside, whatever the weather, ensconced under a gazebo pressed into service against the rain, with a brazier blazing beside it. The simplest of menus, but the huge joy of once again eating with others—a powerful reminder of the importance of sitting around a table and being with friends and family.
Stymied a bit because the village butcher had no chicken—there’s a shortage because of the spread of disease—but, then, there seem to be bits of shortage all round. Agromenes remembers older people recounting the days after the Second World War when they would go shopping, basket in hand, and ask for what the shopkeeper had, rather than for what they wanted.
It’s been a bit like that in our village. The hardware store hadn’t had a delivery for a fortnight —evidently a mixture of Covid-19 and Brexit— so there were no seedling trays for the propagator. No luck either in the nursery, which is stretched to the limit trying to deal with the complications of extended paperwork on both sides of the Channel.
It takes 48 hours longer for plants to get here from the Continent. That’s 48 hours in a lorry, which does them a lot of no good, pushes up the costs and sometimes means they arrive in an unsaleable condition. Lockdown has encouraged a significant uptick in gardening enthusiasm, so hardy perennials and roses are in short supply even without the complications at the ports. At home, British growers have been hit by a shortage of skilled labour, which they used to get from Eastern Europe, so they, too, are struggling to meet demand.
It all seems particularly odd because we have grown so used to our shops carrying everything we might need. It’s difficult to accept that supply chains are indeed vulnerable, even without ships getting stuck in the Suez Canal. The sheer efficiency of just-in-time delivery and frictionless borders is something we’ve all taken for granted.
There was, however, some good news that came just in time for the holiday. A number of specialist mail-order food businesses, such as Deli Français and the incomparable La Vialla, seem to have cracked the problems of importing from France and Italy. As it’s about six weeks before we can eat inside a restaurant, these treats have been particularly cheering. Months of lockdown made food shopping and planning a chore, so a few little extravagances are very welcome, especially before we get our home-grown produce.
We have also got to hope that nurseries will be able to produce enough plugs and plants for the explosion in demand that the three million new pandemic gardeners have fuelled. The run on culinary herbs has meant many of the best suppliers are offering delivery dates later and later. Still, it’s a price worth paying if all these new converts stick to it.
What has been most odd about this Easter is not being able to sing Easter hymns in a crowded church. The organ is mute, we sit masked in alternate pews and the whole place is oddly silent without children and babies. We are here out of duty, in by one door and out by another. The Host dispensed after the end of the service on our way out, the priest reaching out towards our socially distanced outstretched hands. No coffee, chat or raffle. Much worse, no thumping rendition of Hail the Day that Sees Him Rise. Mercifully, despite the pandemic, we leave knowing that He is risen indeed. Alleluia!
The organ is mute, we sit masked in alternate pews and it is oddly silent