Is this the end?

 Is this the end?

England is officially free. Not of Covid, as yet, but finally of the interminable legal restrictions imposed on our lives due to the pandemic.

Covid still rages unchecked, in more ways than one. Since the withdrawal of the requirement to take a registered PCR test statistics are untrustworthy.  Nowadays folk testing positive via Lateral Flow should , in theory, report this but most , in my colloquial experience,  do not. True numbers are no doubt far higher than recorded.

On the plus side, infections rarely involve hospitalisation or serious illness.  I am loath to say mild symptoms. Recently three of my immediate family have had Covid and found it to be more like flu than a cold and there is a world of difference. Nevertheless it has been manageable with bed rest alone and the worst over within a week. 

Omicron, globally the dominant strain, is currently so prevalent in society that even the Queen, surely the most protected person in the nation, has succumbed. According to Palace sources she has only a mild cold and is continuing with light duties. Get well soon, Your Majesty. 

So the omens are good. Covid is with us but it is no longer a killer to most people. The original timeline to end restrictions was the end of March and it has been brought forward. 

Reason 1.The economy. Ending Covid related benefits and withdrawing free testing in any form saves the Treasury a fortune and ending self isolation aids the recovery of businesses. 

Reason 2. Boris Johnson's political future. Our not so esteemed leader . fighting the fires of the " partygate" scandal , is doing his best to redeem his reputation by rewriting history. Declaring the end of any Covid regulations he proclaims our victory over Covid is a matter of national pride. 

Seriously? We have the highest death rate per capital in the world. Millions, if not billions, of tax payers money wasted on unusable PPE, failed Apps, Nightingale hospitals it was impossible to use due to staff and equipment shortages. 

Yes, we have an effective vaccine rollout and I would give the Gov credit for ordering ahead allowing us first dibs on what turned out to be very effective vaccines. More by luck than judgement but credit where credit is due.

So, is this the end? A month earlier than planned.

Hopefully. Yes. Even with dodgy statistics all the evidence is that Omicron is now on a par with the usual winter flu. A killer to the vulnerable but manageable for the majority. 

No need therefore to legalise isolations, provide free testing or in any way have state interference in our lives, professional or private. From April 1 LFTs will be chargeable but there is no legal reason to test so most people will choose not to anyway.

I have been torn during the last two years between my belief in our autonomy over our own lives, deeply resenting the way the state has dictated my every move, literally banning me from going for a walk, and yet understanding that for the greater good it is best to have national  emergency regulations. 

On a personal level I am grateful that my life is now my own. No more rules or restrictions. Not even compulsory masks. Thank God. 

I am nervous about the future. After two years, the abnormal has become normal. Letting go of the fear is going to take time.

But I m getting there. Cinema at full capacity.  Trains and Tubes at rush hour. Lunch inside busy cafes. Embrace life  and stop worrying. Bring on the crowds. Let there be crowds.

If all goes to plan this will be my last post. No more Coronavirus Diaries. Even when, as is inevitable, I finally get Covid, hopefully it will not merit a mention in despatches. 

My life will be as it was before. A life I love. A life I cherish. A life I missed with a sadness almost unbearable during those lost empty months of lockdowns. Full of family and friends, love and laughter. 

These last two years have been ghastly. These diaries stand for that. Let no one ever say it was anything else. Is this the end? Here's hoping. 

2022

 2022 

So far so good . 

January 2022.  When I began writing Coronavirus diaries in early 2020 I could not imagine what lay ahead. The immediacy of staying alive took priority. Then coming to terms with weeks and months of altered lives, adjusting to the ebb and flow of Covid.

Covid is still with us but signs are good that we are entering the final phase of this ghastly global pandemic.  Omicron is incredibly contagious yet definitely less deadly than previous variants. 

Life in England has less restrictions rather than more. There is no longer a legal requirement to take a PCR test if a LFT is positive if asymptomatic. Isolation can finish after 7 days following 2 days of clear LFTs, 24 hours apart. 

Our main societal issue now is not Covid itself but Covid related absences. Hospitals, schools and essential services are barely functioning. The Government is coming under increasing pressure to end isolation after 5 days rather than 7 to ease pressures due to staff absences.

Boris Johnsons popularity has fallen to an all time low after yet another leak of parties at 10 Downing Street during the long 2020 lockdown months. Todays reveal was an email invite to 100 MPs to gather "to enjoy the good weather". 

Date, 20th May 2020.  When the rules dictated we could only meet one other person outside your household for a walk. When not losing a loved one to Covid was to be lucky. To be simply sad due to living bereft of so much human contact was seen as a necessity. 

That first lockdown was one of the bleakest times of my life. Boris Johnsons arrogance and blatant rule breaking has led to more public outrage and led to yet more calls for his resignation. I doubt he will go of his own accord. I hope he will be made to go by others more worthy of holding the office of PM.

2021 was a vast improvement on 2020.  2022 opens on a positive note. Restrictions are limited. I have had family here to celebrate our ruby wedding anniversary. I am rediscovering the joys of indoor socialising. I suspect I will one day get Omicron as it is omnipresent but I am not living my life in fear.

Here's hoping for a normal 2022. A  true normal. Life before Covid normal. Nothing makes me cherish my mundane everyday more than losing it. It is nearly back within my reach, the life I loved pre Covid, and I want to grasp it with all my strength and live it to the full. 

A magical Christmas

A truly magical Christmas

Yes. it really has been a magical family festive season full of love and laughter.  Food, presents, games, and best of all being gathered together. 

This was worth all the ultra caution of the previous weeks. A week of being with those I love. I am so happy, I have made so many magical memories.

Covid has stripped so much from our lives but this once we had our happy times together. 

Many families lost the Covid lottery. The Omicron variant is rampant, we are topping 150,000 plus new cases a day in the UK. Even with the isolation period now down to 7 days invariably many spent their holidays lonely in a room apart. 

 It is now 2022.  This must surely be the year we learn to live with Covid rather than allowing it to dictate our lives. Who knows. There is growing optimism Omicron is mild and hope that this is the final stage of this ghastly global virus. 

Wishing for a happy and healthy new year ahead. 

From Bad to Worse

 From Bad to Worse.

Within a week the UK has experienced a tsunami of the Omicron variant of Covid. Official numbers are around 5,000 although experts say it is probably much higher. Due to become the dominant variant within a matter of days.

Does this matter? The Gov thinks it does. Despite growing evidence from S Africa where this first was identified that it does not cause serious symptoms, in fact the opposite, the UK is now in Plan B.

Plan B involves an order to work from home "when possible" and increased compulsory mask wearing. Um. Boris tells the nation it is perfectly fine to continue with the office party and appears unaware of the discrepancy between an order to stay at home and permission to crowd into bars, nightclubs and restaurants en masse.

The ubiquitous covid symbol

 Hard to resist the sense that Boris is determined to deflect the nation's attention from more leaks about his 2020 antics in defiance of his own lockdown rules. 

However, we are stuck with headlines plunging us into despair. I cannot understand why we have a national emergency when there is little evidence this new variant poses any greater threat.

Boris's strategy is to boost everyone. Booster campaign on steriods, he proclaims. Pity no one told the vaccination clinics. Queues of 4 hours plus today. GPs told to abandon all other work to get this done. 

There is merit in expanding the booster campaign. Evidence has shown it needs a third shot for this particular variant. Esp those who had AZ for their first 2 shots, as that has shown zero efficacy. Whoops. I will be glad when my family is boosted, especially those who had our much lauded British version earlier in the year. 

Much of my December social calendar is now blank again. Meals have been cancelled, book clubs postponed, fun lunches out moved to January. Everyone is counting the days til Christmas and holding their breath that nothing goes wrong. 

Because if Christmas gets cancelled again I cannot bear it. No one can bear it. We do not deserve this. Everyone has been so careful. Everyone has followed the rules even when our civil liberties were restricted. This should not be happening. 

Here we go again

 Here we go again...

It was all going so well. Too well. Life felt almost normal. Old normal. Pre Covid normal.  Cinema visits again.  Cafes, shops, anything indoors felt, simply, indoors once again. Trains, buses, dinner parties, meetings, you name it, I have been doing it. At first cautiously, then almost without a care in the world.

Until this weekend. News of a new variant with scary numbers of mutations showing vaccine escape hit the headlines and global panic ensued. 

I should have been fine. I am now booster vaccinated. I had my third shot of Pfizer weeks ago. Up to 95 percent immunity, say the headlines. To Covid as we knew it. Possibly not to this new version. Deep joy.

Christmas plans are well underway. Family gatherings, Xmas meals.  To be worried or not to be worried is the question.

Boris assures us we will be fine. Cue hollow laughter.  Trust in the Government is even lower than thought possible. 

This variant was found in South Africa but even a nigh on immediate flight ban has not stopped cases popping up everywhere. Here, in Europe, in Canada, in the USA.  Hotel quarantines and red lists are back on the agenda but obviously this will only buy time now our world has returned to  pre pandemic global village status. We are all in this together now.

I have now had two sleepless nights listening to medical experts arguing over the merits of what to do, how much to worry, is this "overkill" or is this the start of worse to come. 

Today the UK Government announced an immediate increase in booster availability, now eligible to everyone over 18 and with the gap reduced to 3 months after the second dose rather than 6. 

Critics say this is an abundance of caution, no one with this new variant is as yet very ill. Medics say it is too early to say and vaccines, even with the possibility of vaccine escape, are our best defence. 

My instincts tell me this Government does nothing that has dire consequences for our recovering economy unless it fears a worse outcome if it does not.  Airline share prices plummeted when news broke of flight bans, tourism firms have taken an immediate hit, and consumer confidence is shaken at the very time struggling businesses need an Xmas boost. Restrictions imposed over the last 3 days were not done lightly.

Mask wearing is mandatory. PCR tests for returning travellers mandatory. Isolation for new variant contacts regardless of vaccine status mandatory.

Its beginning to look a lot like Xmas. Last Xmas. Not again. Please God not again! 

Not Good

Not Good. 

Halloween. Day of the Dead. Zombies, ghosts and witches roam the streets grasping candy from friendly neighbours. I have done my bit keeping the tradition alive with all 4 grandchildren and am Halloween-ed out. I never want to see another pumpkin again.

Scratch the surface of this happy picture and all is not good.

1. Welcome back the "super cold", lying myself and millions more low.   Community immunity is wiped out by a year of self isolation, social distancing and mask wearing. Tests show definitely not Covid. Just a plain old horrible bug. 

2. Covid cases hover at 40,000 daily but worse the hospital and death rates continue to rise. Hospitals are showing signs of overheating. Intensive care beds are filling up.

3. Booster program is running slowly. Too slowly. Walk in clinics are often standing empty as social media/online adverts fail to reach those elderly and vulnerable most at need. People waiting patiently for a call from their GP will wait for months, sadly. 

I am due my booster anytime now. Plan is to wait til cold subsides and find a walk in, which will involve travelling to Brighton. Deep joy. GP surgeries are so behind any residual acclaim those services had for delivering the first two jabs has long worn off and those GPs protesting that it is Covid that prevents them seeing patients face to face have no credibility.

4. The complete breakdown of our GP service is symbolic of the breakdown of pre Covid society. Blaming Covid is only part of the picture. The rest is about money. Brexit and a global supply chain crisis from food to energy has collided with a Tory Government prepared to put up NI rates, thus affecting the lower paid, rather than changing the higher tax rates. Protect the wealthy at all costs.

The latest grim scandal is the sight of sewage ruining our beaches. Water companies use legal loopholes to wash untreated sewage out to stop the nations Victorian sewers backing up. The Government has a policy of mass house building. No new sewers. MPs are not prepared to stop the overflow policy. The sea does not bring in money. 

5. The UK hosts COP 26 in Glasgow, cue cynical laughter across the whole world treated to images of raw sewage washing up on the sands. Delegates fly in from the climate change conference in Rome, causing mass disruption to the city and creating their own  minor climate hiatus.  You couldn't make it up.

6. France and the UK engage in yet another squabble over fishing rights. Someone tell the fish to stop swimming, that'll sort it. Seriously, you couldn't make it up.

The clocks have gone back. Winter is officially here. There is a deep seated somber mood of foreboding under those jolly Halloween antics. Covid is still with us. No one is convinced the vaccine will be enough. It is gong to be a long cold winter. 

  

Crisis, what Crisis?

Crisis, what Crisis?

Autumn mists, balmy weather and as yet ( see **) no major resurgence of Covid, life seems on the surface to be back to normal. I have stayed away from home, not just in the relative safety of the cottage, but in London and in Kent. I have travelled by train and tube. Family life is thriving, birthday parties, multi family gatherings, chatter and natter with no talk of Covid. 

And yet underneath this apparent normality,  with shops open, offices open, rush hour commuters surging onto tubes and buses,  there is a surreal sense that this is all an illusion and that any week now we will be plunged back into a winter of dispair.

We are already teetering on a winter of discontent. England is suffering food, fuel, and gas shortages. The Government blames Covid. Brexit is a forbidden word. Whilst it is true that this is a global problem driven by a global pandemic causing lack of production across the board and major issues in shipping and transport it is also true that Britain's shortages are worse thanks to our Brexit policy of non immigration. Nothing has showed Brexiteers more how much we rely on the EU and how bereft we are without it. 

Boris Johnson throws out exemptions by the day, come over til Xmas EU lorry drivers, oh, not enough, come til March. Bring in more care workers. Sadly the EU workers once happy to work here went home post Brexit and during Covid and show little inclination to come back. I can't say I blame them. 

**Covid rampages among us, positive cases rise by the day. Hospital cases also rise, and although severe illnesses overwhelming the NHS is so far being held in check only by vaccinations, as winter looms over an exhausted population I feel the pervading unease that bad times lie ahead. 

 Boris Johnson, however, jets off for a five star holiday, riding the crest of a bizarrely successful Tory party conference.  Inside the hall is all cheers and applause, outside is misery and protests.Inflation has risen sharper than predicted. The Tory party has withdrawn the extra £20 top up on universal benefit introduced during covid. Words fail me. Wages are rising but this triumphant Tory catch phrase missing the end of the sentence, i.e not in line with inflation.  Food banks, once rare, are now normal even in an affluent town like Lewes.

 A cartoon in The Independent summed up the stark contrast between them and everyone else  Boris Johnson is depicted lying on a sunbed, champagne glass afloat, sealed in a bubble soaring high above the burning dystopia of post Covid, post Brexit Britain. 

The NHS , whilst not at breaking point just yet, is very close, and  creaking at the seams. A drs appt is the golden grail. Like most people I ve given up waiting for my flu jab from my GP and had it done by the chemist. As for when I get my promised booster, my best guess is about 3 months after it is due , which is 1 st November.

This promised booster is our only defence but this too the Government has failed to deliver. Supplies are short, clinics everywhere are cancelled often on the day. I simply don't think about the worst than can happen any more because otherwise living a normal life in a society and culture returned to normal is impossible.

No coincidence Boris was on holiday when the long awaiting public report on the Governments handling of the Covid crisis was published, and was as damning as expected. 

Cue Tory Ministers focusing on how a successful vaccination programme is all that matters and simply refusing to engage about how many of those 140,000 deaths so far could have been avoided had the Government not made such a b** awful shambles of handling the pandemic. And if a successful vaccination program is the end game, where the hell are the vaccines!

This surreal sense of "What on earth is going on" as everything falls apart at the heart of our culture and society is reflected in the media headlines awash with bad news. The only person oblivious is Boris, pictured telling his party faithful to worship the ground he walks on, before heading to Malaga and avoiding any questions as well as providing any answers. 

I am one of the lucky ones. I am not dependant on my car, so no need to queue for petrol,  I can absorb food price hikes, food shortages. I have no economic concerns. 

With winter looming, the future is unclear.  London has cancelled its New Years Eve fireworks again due to Covid concerns. Lewes is planning to go ahead with the stupendous bonfire night celebrations. This is life in England, we all know Covid is still with us but no one knows what to do about it. I can only live in hope and enjoy life as it is now, savouring the everyday normality that only last year seemed impossible.

We made it!

 We made it!

Six weeks of sun, fun, family and sheer happiness.  A normal summer. Invaluable. Priceless. 

Organisational skills forgotten during the Covid months were back in play. Having inadvertently double booked my own Norfolk cottage by offering it to No 1 son and family when also agreeing to visit No 2 son and family, I simply found Paul and I a most agreeable bed and (excellent) breakfast in Norwich. Excuse for a mini break.

An enmasse gathering of geographically spread out family for Rosie's 2nd birthday that week worked beautifully, unspoilt by unseasonable drizzle.

This summer too I got to spend precious regular days out with my two more local granddaughters , time truly special. Last summer felt more circumspect, contact time more limited as families wrestling with the dilemmas of post Covid lockdown fears were trying to catch up with everyone and everything. Not enough time to go round. And all too soon lockdown struck again leaving me bereft with a scant paucity of memories. Not so this year. My heart is full of hugs, cuddles, kisses. 

My own birthday family gathering was the only time Covid touched the family, missed by my daughter in law who fortunately was not too unwell and passed it on to no one at all. A minor blip in am otherwise glorious, happy and healthy holiday season. 

My birthday also coincided with the Gov declaring that the double vaccinated no longer had to isolate on contact with anyone testing positive. Surreally bizarre. Issue was simply that with high numbers of Covid circulating, contact tracing and isolation was creating such a staff shortage throughout every industry that this was the only answer.  In fairness, since introduced in mid August, the policy has not made much difference to the infection rate , still high, and it has released an imprisoned workforce. Fair enough. 

It seems that those of us double jabbed, the vast majority of the country now, when unlucky enough to get Covid are no more or less likely to pass it directly than a person picking it up from the supermarket. It is everywhere. You either get it, or you don't. 

Odds of being seriously ill when vaccinated are low so, like most people, I simply got on with enjoying my summer. Mask wearing, yes, most of the time, but in a soft play area with kids, its impossible. I took the risk, I am not missing out on anything else because of Covid.

Wonderful times too when my now too big house filled once again with children , rooms heaving with children, mess, paint, glue, music, dancing, every inch once again in use. Meals cooked with love for a family gathered round a table. Dawn starts with little ones  sleepy bodies curling into mine. Bath times, story times, bug hunts, playground fun, the summer I wanted it was the summer I had and I am so grateful.

Now the children are at school. The house is silent. My weekdays are bare of grandchildren , only the youngest far away in Norfolk not at school now. There is a chill in the air. The Government announces the winter Covid plan as rates continue to soar, hospital admissions rise and deaths are creeping up. 

Winter plan includes booster vaccines for the over 50s, single vaccinations for 12 to 15 year olds, controversial and not compulsory, and basically keeping your fingers crossed. Watch this space..........

But for now I am content. The bonds of last years stilted emotionally restrained reunions have loosened and broken free. I have had my normal summer, the time I longed for to fully restore family connections after so many lost months. Beyond words precious. 

Dilemas

Dilemmas 

The country is in chaos. The lifting of all restrictions in the face of a rising case load has caused shortages due to mass isolation , the dreaded "pingdemic" and created as much conflict and confusion as it has freedom.

Thankfully as I write the steep rise in infections has stopped, for how long who knows. We are all on our own now finding our way through the mess our Government has dumped us in.

Everyone is making different decisions according to circumstance. Me, I m staying outside with friends , avoiding anything inside, but doing whatever I want with my family. I want to cherish this summer with my beloved granddaughters. 

My family members have all made alternative choices as their lifestyles dictate. Those with children have embraced the out of school time, those at work are now back at work, with all the interactions that involved. And all deserve a social life!

My social life is walking with friends on the cliffs and countryside. I have meet friends in pubs for lunch, outside, and coffee, outside. I have been to houses for lunch, outside.

Only with family do i stop looking over my shoulder because this is why I m being so careful with everyone else. Yes, logically, they could well give me covid but it is not covid which worries me, it is the thought of isolating and seeing our precious summer time vanishing. So much lost time already and I cannot bear to miss any more. 

My diary is criss crossed with a messy but full schedule devised to allow me to optimise time with family across the country.

Please Gods give me these summer weeks to enjoy before the empty weeks of winter when the schools return and my diary is blank. Please Gods keep us infection free and healthy for our time together. 

" Freedom Day"

 Freedom Day? Huh? 

Monday July 19th. Boris Johnson decides , against every scientists advice,  to go ahead with the lifting of all restrictions in England, the stage 4 of his roadmap out of lockdown, postponed from June. Our much lauded Freedom Day. 

The UK has the highest number of Covid cases per population in the world. The world. There is a sharp rise in the number of hospital admissions andour death rate,  whilst low thanks to the mass vaccination programme, is slowly but surely creeping upwards.

The world thinks we are mad. So does most of the population. It is madness. Boris Johnsons popularity has sunk to an all time low. 

I am now part of a bizarre social experiment. The Governments rationale is that with a highly vaccinated population we can live with the virus. The summer holidays are nearly here so okay there is some merit in the "if not now than when?" argument.

But the obvious answer is simply just " not now". 

Mass spectator events including hosted the final of the Euros at Wembley where 60,000 spectators watched England snatch defeat yet again from the jaws of victory, losing on penalties, have become super spreader events.

The football ended in defeat in more ways than goals. We reached the final. England was more or less united for once is a breathless state of bemusement. There was a positive vibe of unity even I, a non football fan, felt. Even i watched the match.

Then the riots, the disgusting behaviour of drunken fans, the violent crowds breaking into the stadium. I felt ashamed to be British. Again.  

Thankfully racist abuse directed towards players who missed penalties was matched by an outpouring of love to balance an overwhelming sensation  everything had gone so horribly wrong. 

I now know many people now who have Covid, caught during pub nights to watch the football or simply a passing contact with someone else who has it, This Delta variant is incredibly contagious. 

The ludicrous situation is summed up by the pingdemic sweeping the nation. Come to close to someone infected and your app will ping. 10 days of isolation follows. Cue much deleting of the track and trace app, one many of us, including me, never added in the first place as its not a legal requirement and notoriously unreliable.

Farcical. On Freedom Day the PM and Chancellor and the Leader of the Opposition were in isolation as the Health Secretary developed Covid. Shortages in shops and services as half the workface across the land is in isolation.

You couldn't make it up. 

 

Whatever next

Whatever next....

Well, no one had much time for the Health Secretary Matt Hancock anyway but this photo  in The Sun brought his tenure to an abrupt end this week.

Ignoring the fact that any self respecting Health Secretary in a time of crisis should not have time for an affair, completely ignoring the immorality which seems normal for this Government, what brought Matt Hancock down was the blatant breach of social restrictions he himself imposed on the rest of us.

Good riddance to bad rubbish.

Boris Johnson originally tried to ignore it all but this time his "I m in charge and sod you all" backfired. Our new Health Secretary is Sajid Javid, a veteran of failed cabinet posts and an advocate of liberalism and freeing us from restrictions asap. Oh and privatising the NHS but lets hide that one under the headlines....

Still, it made a break from wall to wall coverage of the delayed Euro football -as I write England are playing Germany tomorrow in the knockout rounds and will no doubt be knocked out- plus today Wimbledon, and lets not forget Ascot, cricket and uncle tom cobley and all.

School sports days are a parent free zone but sport, everyone is welcome. Its a joke. Stadiums are "test events". Oh yes. Fan zones are an excuse for a maddening crowd. But the rest of us, no singing, no dancing and not much fun.

The original Freedom day on June 21st was of course delayed, now muted to be July 19th but like everyone else I ll believe it when I see it.

The infection rate is sky high with delta variants to the point where Spain, Malta and Portugal today joined the growing list of countries insisting UK travellers quarantine on arrival. 

Our Gov is relying on vaccinations. Drop in centres are popping up everywhere in a mad dash to beat the virus.

Because, if the Gods are smiling on, the vaccines seem to be holding up. Hospitalisations are low, deaths low. Creeping up, yes, but its holding, hold your breath everyone, its holding steady.

So I continue to live my life for the moment, cherishing every day with my family, my grandchildren, seizing the day. The summer months , the long days, fill them with every single thing I can do in case life empties again. Look forward , hold my nerve, and hope that whatever comes next is , for once, good news. 

Happy Times

 Happy Times

Blissfully happy times.   Sun kissed days filled with love and laughter. Finally my spirits lift. 

My quiet home has been transformed into a chaotic madhouse, bursting at the seams with noise and fun as my son and family came to stay from Norfolk for half term.  Their last visit was a year ago, then as now I revelled in the release of lockdown restrictions, truly appreciating how lucky I am with my marvellous family. 

No matter the house is trashed, what matters is that we can gather together again. Last time the wee youngest was a baby, today she is a robust rising 2 year old, gleefully engaging with everything. Her eldest sister now 4 revels in the magical world of imagination, one I love to share and embrace.  

Did we adults ever imagine a year ago that we would have to endure endless months of more Covid lockdowns once more before another visit could take place? Maybe. I believe so. Our original terror and paranoia had given way to a sinking suspicion that the spring 2020 horrendous 12 week complete "prison type" lockdown had not brought more than a summer reprieve. 

Yet with the winter of discontent and endless wasted spring behind me now I find myself looking forward with more optimism. Okay so I cannot see into a Covid free future, no one is that naive any more, but I am simply past worrying, I am simply happy to savour every precious moment, living the present to the full.

I shall always cherish the happy times when my four grandchildren meet after so long, a crazy joyous mad day in the park and then in our garden. My four gorgeous girls tearing around in a whirlwind of play whilst their fathers, my sons, revisit their youth chatting together amidst the maddening crowd. 

I have not been so very happy for so very long.

My daughter hosts a bbq and pool day at her house near the beach. The sun shines, the smell of sun cream and sausages waft through the heat haze, I stand in the cool water of the paddling pool holding my granddaughters hands as they play and I want these moments to go on forever.

My heart is full with happiness, my mind is full of magical memories. I hold these memories tight as Covid has  brought home to us all how fragile life is, how precious time is, how unpredictable the future is.

For now at least the lurking cloak of despair which has haunted my life since the November lockdown  is (currently) vanquished, the ghost of lost times laid to rest by sheer joy in happy family reunions.

How long this freedom will last is anyone's guess and I m not going to think about it. The rise of Covid infections is steep due to the dominance of the Delta (Indian) variant and although so far our vaccines seem to be holding it at bay we are walking a tightrope. 

The Gov has decided against further foreign travel relaxations in a bid to keep the June 21st UK full opening date on the table, a measure of just how unsure scientists and politicians alike are about what lies ahead. Who cares, I am not going away, I am staying here with my beloved family. As long as I can see them, that is all that matters to me. 

Today I am happy, yesterday I was happy, last week I was happy. Next week will be whatever it will be. Ce la vie. 

Yes or no?

 Yes or No?

So, is this promised doorway to normality open or ajar? Are we "opening up" or is it yet another "here we go again" moment?

As I type I am listening to Boris Johnson's hastily arranged press conference,  reassuring us that the UKs planned phrased opening from May 17th will not be affected by the rise of the so called Indian Variant now sweeping through parts of the country. 

Um. We've been here before. Everyone remembers Boris playing happy Santa only to turn into the Grinch who stole Christmas just days before Dec 25th. Playing God to feel good in the face of science is a dangerous game.

Boris hates giving bad news. Frankly Boris hates most things, work, honesty, truth, loyalty, responsibility....the reason for his Teflon success lies in his ability to proclaim "all will be well" regardless of facts, data and science and keep his fingers crossed behind his back.

Failures in so many fields, providing adequate PPE, providing an adequate Test and Trace app, ignoring warnings until damage is irreversible, Boris is not a popular PM. Yet as recent local elections showed, Labour is less popular. 

Sir Kier Starmer is a waste of time, unable to show a coherent opposition, unable to unite the divided party and unable to appeal to voters. So Boris wins the popular vote again despite everything, sailing high on the winds of his one success, the vaccine rollout.

Boris's current good news hype is that our vaccines will protect us whatever the variant. The current regime is to be speeded up, second doses brought forward from 12 to 8 weeks, young people offered one as soon as possible and faster than the speed of light in cities affected with this variant. 

Let's hope he's right because if he's not, God help us. Again. 

Me, I m not even going there. I don't think I can do this again. The first lockdown last year was hell. Last summer was magical. The autumn was a gradual slow descent back into hell again and this winter has been an absolute nightmare.

Spring and the last few weeks of lockdown easing has brought me back to life. I have my family around me again, my world is full of love and laughter. 

I need to believe that yes, we are past the worst. Because if this a nope, not yet, I and so many more will say no more, not again. Life is for living and I need to live it. 

Writing this blog in 2021 is liberating as I no longer need worry that everything I write is part of a wider picture collated for social policy. This brilliant idea in the first lockdown became tarnished by misuse. Historians and academics such as myself found we were editing honest voices of families, friends, neighbours, strangers, in good faith, only to see our work picked apart by civil servants needing reasons for their actions.

This 2021 version is just me. My life, my year, my opinion. Because we can only understand the present in the context of the past and the future. In years to come researchers will see 2020 blogs only within the wider frame of 2019 and 2021.  

This 2021 diary is for them, for my children, for their children. Because if history tries to recreate Coronavirus as in any way a positive time,  then it will make a mockery of everything we have gone through, Everything we are still going through.  Across the private and the public spheres. The collapse of businesses, industry, the infrastructure of our beloved NHS, as privatisation by the back door has sneaked in during the crisis, the poor getting poorer, the rich getting richer, the sick dying, etc.

I am not a nationalist, I do not care if Britain is doing well. The Indian variant is what happens when one country thinks it can operate alone. This is a global pandemic. Our first world greed is coming back to haunt us.

I m hanging onto optimism because for my sanity I have to. Yes, my vaccines will work. Yes, my family will stay safe, Yes, I can have the summer I have dreamt of because the alternative is beyond me.  

    

Into the light

 Into the light

It is now May and the bitter cold persists. April was the coldest for almost 100 years and the third lowest average temperature since records began since 1884.

And yet,  finally, with the long , sunny, dry days my spirits are lifting. I feel myself moving forward into the golden glow of hope and optimism.

My diary is once more full with family gatherings, walks with friends, coffee and lunch dates. The infection rate is so low that fear has vanished and whilst in theory the UK waits for permission to move into the second stage of lockdown easing, in practice life as we once knew it is taking shape once more.

I see my beloved grandchildren regularly and with each precious date my heart fills once more with joy. We play, we laugh, we cuddle and hug once more, freed from the anxious worry of the past winter months. We stay outside in accordance with Covid rules.... as much as possible. 

 There is a lightness in the air everywhere. The number of Covid deaths nationally is in single figures and infection rates continue to decline. Two thirds of the adult population have now had their first vaccination. 

I have now had both mine, my second Pfizer jab appt 10 weeks after the first, well within the 12 week window. Yes, it makes me feel secure. Maybe more than it should given it is not yet fully tried and tested. It also makes me feel selfish. So much of the world has yet to receive any vaccinations and this will no doubt come back to haunt us all.

India's Covid crisis deepens, the double mutant variant is highly infectious. This week a delegation invited hereby our despicable joke of a PM  to attend a G7 summit in London brought with it two members who have now tested positive.  India is a red list country, anyone should be in a quarantine hotel not attending face to face meetings designed to promote our Brexit obsessed Government. 

So far it seems there is no spread but God forbid there is,  as this would be the ultimate irony. A reoccurrence of Covid introduced by a Government who take credit for "winning the battle" here in the UK would be beyond words appalling.   

This week though  I am focusing on the present, drinking in the beauty of spring blossoms, gazing in delight at carpets of bluebells, immersing myself in the immediacy of being with my family. Leaving behind the empty months, the dark barren times and stepping out into the light. 

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Stepping out (side)

Stepping Out (side) 

April 12 th brings another step forward. Travel overnight is allowed if self contained and in family groups. Hospitality opens outside though groups are supposed to be 6 or 2 households only.

As has become normal practise nowadays , no one can count.

Paul and I finally visit our tiny cottage in far flung Norfolk. It is cold and desolate. Abandoned through necessity for 4 months it looks sad and neglected. Thankfully everything restarts without a hitch. There is work to do to restore everything to pre lockdowns glory but we have breathed life into it once again.

Most importantly, time at last for the longed for reunion with  Norfolk "contingent", my son and his wife and two wonderful wee girls. It has been months. I last saw them on a beach in early December and I have missed them so much.

This time we meet up without the lurking fear that marked our brief Dec gathering. Then the rapidly increasing Covid infection rate hung over us all like a pall. 

Now the infection rate is @9 per 100,000, deaths nationally are down in single figures some days and hospitals have spare beds everywhere. 

Legally we must still socialise outside and avoid contact.  However, in practice, freed from fear, everyone I know, including myself, has compromised. Staying outside, yes, but feeling free to play, to touch hands, free to relax and be happy.

Since my last post my relationship with my grandchildren here is relaxed again, more frequent visits have dispelled that first meeting awkardness , children and adults alike are talking freely.  By common consent intimate face to face hugs are avoided but OMG the sheer joy of holding a little ones hand or pushing laughing children on a swing has lifted my spirits so much. 

So now on good days, being with my loved ones, sitting in a pub garden in the warm (ish) April sunshine with a coffee and good friends, I feel as if I am stepping out, emerging slowly from behind those dark lockdown walls.

On bad days , I remain restricted, constricted by doubt,  unsure of the future. 

Infection rates remain high across the world and new mutant variants are emerging all the time, particularly the Indian and South American ones. Vaccine politics fails into insignificance when everyone knows none of them work against these new virulent strains.

India is sinking under a soaring death rate reaching new heights globally. Yet our PM failed to cancel a planned visit until this week, failed to add India to the red list for arrivals until this week and only then for it come into effect on Friday.  After that visitors will head to quarantine hotels, until then they arrive and head into the UK with only a promise of self isolation.

What use is our successful vaccine rollout and low infection rate if the now traditional mismanagement of this choatic Government leads us straight back into trouble through sheer negligence. Scientists have warning for weeks of the dangers of delay .  If the India variant takes hold here who knows what will happen.

Optimists point to seasonality and stress we will have a "good summer" especially given the UKs high vaccine rate.  Pessimists point to our still open borders and the presence of new strains in areas across the UK. 

Both acknowledge that a bad autumn and winter is probably inevitable. Planning ahead is therefore pointless. 

In January an MRI scan revealed 3 collapsed/collapsing discs in my neck which has stopped me running for good. Running was my savour during my darkest times and without it I am struggling. This is not the fault of coronavirus but everything blurs into one blob of grey. 

Prince Philips death at the age of 99 last week ironically demonstrated the anomalies we are all struggling with in this nearly "post" but possibly not Covid spring.

His Covid secure funeral of 30 in the chapel looked surreal given the hundreds in the grounds ensuring the Duke was given full military honours. 

The sad sight of the Queen sitting alone was a poignant image yet the vast amount of media coverage generated the most complaints the BBC has ever had.  Newspaper coverage featured more the question of whether Princes William and Harry were talking to each other. 

The Monarchy, so revered in the depths of the crisis of 2020, when the past gave security to the terrifying present,  are not relevant in our current passion for the future. The sense of looking forward is urgent, deep seated and omnipresent. 

Contemporary society is complex, covid insecure and desperate with the need to get our lives back. We may take a moment to moan but no more. Everyone is living on a knife edge of desire to step out and move forward. 

Onwards and upwards,.

Onwards and upwards.

My life is opening up and I am moving forward. Literally pulling myself onwards and upwards, forcing myself out of the blackness , moving step by step out into a world full of colour, love and laughter once again. 

Easter has come and gone. In typical English fashion a brief spell of glorious sunshine ended in an artic blast in time for Good Friday and the long Easter weekend. 

From March 29 six people or two households can gather outside. Don the scarfs, woolly hats and gloves and be grateful for small mercies.

I have seen two of my four grandchildren for the first time since Xmas Day. A day of mixed emotions. In so many ways it was a normal Sunday bbq, fun in the garden, walking country lanes, playing games.

To the outside eye it seemed so normal. Inside my heart, mind, body and soul, it was so hard. There was no talk of covid, of lost times, of hugging or kissing (still not allowed) or any outward show of emotion. 

By opening these floodgates an unstoppable tidal wave of grief would have washed over us. So by common unspoken consent we simply pretend it has not happened. 

On a daily basis I fight the weight of depression pushing me down. It sits on my eyelids every morning until I force it off. It sits on my chest until I walk it away. It sits inside my brain until I drown it out with the company of friends and family. 

Worst of all it is inside my heart. A leaden lump formed from months and months of feeling hopeless, useless, lost and worthless. All I can do is keep moving, onwards and upwards, in every way, until the weight falls away, until I feel myself once again. 

This has been the worst year of my life

 This has been the worst year of my life.

Honestly, I believe it has. Because despite my many lived experiences of sadness, anger, grief , loss. this year has pushed me further and further into deep dark bottomless black holes than I can ever remember ,  I can no longer see the surface let alone the horizon. 

It is twelve long months since Boris Johnson first advised the nation to work from home if possible and began the process that was to lead to full lockdown on March 23rd.  I had no idea of what lay ahead or the devastation that would be left behind.

I had no idea that a year later I would be looking back on months of nothingness, months of empty time, months of heartbreak and anguish , time vanished into dust.

Yet another surreal Mothers Day. Silent tears behind the smiles. A day of true gratitude and appreciation for what I do have, the company of my wonderful daughter and my husband, doing constant battle with the anguish and heartbreak for those I cannot see, the deep abiding sadness for the lost times.  

Will we ever" do this properly" again?  Who knows. In theory on March 29th the rule of 6 will return. On April 12 th overnight stays return. By mid May society can, in theory, mingle inside, albeit with Covid restrictions. There is a "roadmap" but the UK has been round in circles for so long now I  suspect finding our way out is going not straightforward. 

I cannot find the energy to summon up hope and optimism .  Too many broken promises. Too much false hope. Too many rainbows only for storms to break over us again.

My once close relationship with some of my beloved family , especially some of my darling granddaughters, has frayed and worn down and I fear it can never be repaired.

Ironically my bond with those loved ones far away may be less effected than those close by.  Distance, for once, has been a silver lining. We are used to gaps in time. When we can cover the miles I hope and pray we will simply pick up where we left off as we have always done. 

For those who live nearer I have found this year has been far more complex. I could have enjoyed a walk with a grandchild, one to one, or  shared a walk with a parent and a  pre schooler, both are legal, but this has never happened. 

Originally I believed this was a wise strategy for all of us, the infection rate was sky high after Xmas but now it is March and spring , with low infection rates once more. The world is returning to normal, the schools are back and the parks are full of laughter.

 I have nothing but silence. For with the return to school came the loss of Zoom calls, the calls to grandma a casualty of a now busy life I am no longer part of. 

Good friends tell me tales of lovely afternoon walks with their grandchildren and it breaks my heart. Their families have embraced the vaccine protection it gives to us oldies and welcomed them back into their lives.

Of course they take care, meeting outside and social distancing, but this to me is small price to pay for being truly with my grandkids. I miss them soo much. 

These covid rules are like speed limits to my mind. Most people, including me, break them although we take great care to hurt no one, including ourselves, and if we get caught, so be it.    

It has been a salutary ,solitary, sad learning curve to realise that as my granddaughters lives have moved on I have been left stranded behind.  

In my rationale moments I know it is time pressures rather than anything personal , yet my heart is now stretched to breaking point as the weeks give way to months.   

Mothers Day was made bearable by my wonderful daughter who made so much effort. My youngest son has also been supportive and a great help.  The others called, of course, and there was a thoughtful, expensive, present. I know I am loved. 

I know I am lucky. I suspect too I am not the only one to realise that as this year has gone on my perception of my role in my own family and theirs of me are so very different. 

Truth be told, I believed I mattered much more than I do. Maybe this is a necessary lesson. yet it has been a desperately hard one.

My husband in his quiet loving way has given me a shoulder to cry on, literally. Without him and absolutely without my daughter I would have given up.

I have had a wonderful life. I retired early to go travelling and enjoy my grandchildren. I have had a grand time. Now travelling is off limits and since I discovered I have collapsed discs in my neck backpacking is a thing of the past.  My grandchildren, the heart of my post work world, have slowly but surely now faded into sepia. 

What lies ahead will be as much unchartered territory and the Covid year.  Of course I will see my grandchildren again once the world reopens, but it will never be as it was. Weekends and school holidays of brief encounters cannot make up for lost time and missed opportunities. It is what it is. Unconditional love , always.  I will learn to accept that life cannot be how it was or how I want it to be and live what it will  become.  

I have to carry on discovering  a whole new world , not because the world is different but because my world as I knew it is. 

This is the most personal entry for a long time because I have been scared of being angry. No more.

I am angry with this government for (ab)using emergency powers for a whole year and forcing me to live in a police state. Controlling my liberty in a way unthinkable in a modern democracy.

I am angry with the corruption, the blatant misuse of trust by politicians lining their own pockets. 

I am angry that this inefficiency has left the country with no safety nets bar a nationalist, jingoistic,  vaccine rollout against Covid. I am delighted to have the vaccine but the international and internal politics of supply and demand are horrifying.

I am angry that children have missed out on education, students on further and higher education. 

I am angry that people have lost jobs.

I am angry for the lonely, the depressed, the bereaved, those who have lost the will to live.

I am angry that people are dying of cancer and preventable diseases because the NHS is overwhelmed and underfunded whilst the much lauded Nightingale hospitals lurk empty and unused.

I am angry that we are not a united society , we are divided by the haves and the have nots more than ever. 

I am angry for myself that my cherished family unity has been broken by this long lonely year. 

I am angry that a year down the line I cannot see a future. My life as it was has disappeared and there is no way back. 

As Covid begins to subside and a new everyday takes shape,  |I see  no final destination, no happily ever after  ending.  TI have to summon up the energy to carry on through whatever lies ahead.  

So, yes, I can honestly say, this has been the worst twelve months of my life.  

Lockdown windows opening

Lockdown windows opening. 

March 8th. 

The first opening of lockdown. A window is open to the world as we once knew it. The schools return in England. Scotland and Wales have staggered returns but in essence, the kids are back.

A  regime of testing is in place, at least officially, for secondary school pupils. As usual confusion and chaos reigns as to access and implementation but in theory it should help prevent the repeated closures that marked last year.

Parents across the land are delighted, ecstatic. Children of all ages have embraced school with a previously unimaginable enthusiasm. 

It seems to me that the youth of today deserve a medal. Voiceless and disempowered, forced to give up everything of joy and sit indoors hour after hour of home schooling, no friendship outings, no sports, no social activities, most have simply got on with it. 

Teenagers have shown stoicism we adults struggle with. Now they face uncertain grades for gsces and a levels and thus an uncertain future. Ignored, overlooked and taken for granted, I wish this generation all the luck in the world.

Me, nothing changes. This first window has opened but I am in other rooms of the house where my windows are firmly shut.

Nothing more changes until March 29th when the rule of 6 outside comes in. Assuming this mass return to education does not cause a spike. In which case I and millions of others will be beyond despair.

I know I am not alone in struggling with deep depression. Every morning I wake with a heavy sense of unhappiness. It has pervaded every bit of my body like a virus. The irony is not lost on me.

Infection rates are now down to 28 per 100,000 in lewes, death rates nationally were below 100 daily for the first time for months, and yet still our life is closed down. closed in, locked away by corrupt and inefficient politicians who are literally holding our lives in their hands.

Anger is surfacing amongst my peers. We are vaccinated, but for what? I still cannot see my grandchildren. I cannot (officially) leave my house for non essential journeys although the rush hour traffic is a measure of this particular unfunny joke. 

Oh but I forgot, there was another give away on march 8th, I can now sit with another person for coffee outside. What you mean I couldn't before, haha, yet another joke. 

These laws are ridiculous. A year has passed. If vaccinations work, let us out. We have no safety net given this Government's appalling failures of mass testing, PPE, contact tracing apps, etc etc. but they are keen to tell us this is nothing compared to the success of the vaccine program. Then let me out please! Before I climb out the window myself and sod the consequences.