‘I SACRIFICED SO MUCH BY STICKING TO THE RULES’
Like most, I’ve been observing lockdown measures to the letter. This has meant working while chronically ill – at times I’ve been without medication and been bedridden with the side effects – and parenting two young children. With very little downtime and unable to see my own friends, relatives or seriously ill mother, at points I wasn’t sure I could go on.
But I did, as we all did – because the Government asked us to stay home, save lives and protect the NHS. So every aspect of the Cummings controversy is a slap in the face to those who sacrificed significant personal liberties to observe the rules.
As we went into lockdown, I had two days of fever, then a week of exhaustion. My husband and I removed our children from school and nursery, went into quarantine and worked from home. We agreed that if we were both ill, we’d just have to parent to the best of our ability. Meanwhile, Cummings went into work despite his wife being ill, then – believing he himself had coronavirus – drove his family 260 miles to his elderly father’s property near Durham.
By early April, when the Government was saying anyone with Covid symptoms should remain at home unless they were told to go to hospital, Cummings said he was so ill he could barely stand, yet drove to pick up his son from hospital (saying he remained in the car). Meanwhile, my mother died of Covid in a care home 100 miles from me. Because of the travel restrictions, I arranged a direct cremation, with no mourners or tributes. By then I was grieving, working and parenting full-time. At around this time, Cummings drove to tourist spot Barnard Castle, 30 miles from his father’s home, on his wife’s birthday, to ‘test his eyesight’, even though it is illegal to drive with defective vision.
Watching Cummings deliver his statement, looking mildly put out, I realised how little I trust the Government guidelines, especially given how disproportionately BAME people are suffering despite not even bending the guidelines Cummings apparently felt so free to break entirely.
Soon I must decide whether to return my children to school and nursery. I don’t know what I’ll do – but I’m going to rely on my own research, rather than Government advice.
I DON’T KNOW about you, but the last time a park was the epicentre of my social life was when I was a teen with nowhere else to go and a thriving interest in awkwardly sitting in a circle with boys, drinking alcopops and furtively smoking cigarettes far, far away from the bloodhound noses of my parents. Needless to say, in the past two decades, life has moved on.
But yet – plot twist! – here I am, back in the park, as probably you are too. Right now it doesn’t matter how good your fake ID is, the pubs (and restaurants, cafés, bars and clubs) remain closed – for the time being. With lockdown rules easing but far from lifted, parks have become a destination once again. And not just for jogging.
Our tentative re-emergence back into the outside world invites an opportunity to get reacquainted with our outside-world wardrobes. Now, of course it doesn’t matter if you want to head to the park in the same tracksuit you’ve been wearing for the past however-many-you-want-to-admit weeks. But if you miss clothes that help transform even the most mundane activity into an event, then now is your golden opportunity.
There’s certainly a renewed interest in picnicking at the moment. Consider this an invite to think bigger than sitting on your jumper scoffing a sandwich. Many of us are hankering after some romance, and you can wholeheartedly embrace it here without the potential heartache of Hinge. Think Emma
Woodhouse at Box Hill! Think Little Women! Think Monet’s Luncheon On The Grass! Crinolines and bonnets might be pushing it a bit, but a swishy dress with frills and florals, a sturdy basket or a sunhat that ties at the neck exudes just the right amount of rose-tinted optimism.
Do think practical as well. Because this is Britain and you never really know what the weather is going to do, a lightweight layer is as much of an essential as a good SPF – try a shirt that you can easily tie around your waist when hot, and shrug on when it’s inevitably not. Invest in a blanket that’s large enough to accommodate socially distanced sit-downs. Choose sandals that you can easily slip on and off (you don’t want to be faffing with complicated straps and ties every time you need to get up). And if I may impart one more piece of advice? An alcopop doesn’t count as an al-fresco quarantini – leave them to the amateurs.