By Robin Trimingham
From the edge of the sea at the end of the lane, in the second most isolated country on the planet I hope you are well and safe as you read this; and making the best of your circumstances. Having said this, if you are anything like me, you could probably use a little light relief about now.
As we enter another week of life at home, my laundry is flapping in the breeze, the mystery meat at the back of the freezer is getting serious consideration, and the dog has never been walked so much in his life.
Where he once practically did backflips at the mention of “walkies”, I am now getting the “what again?” look as I proffer the leash and invite him to do yet another lap around the garden. The other day I caught him standing by a shrub holding his leg in the air pretending to “air-pee” to placate me just so he could get back to his nap on the sofa.
Like many of you I suspect, I have caught myself waffling back and forth in front of my little mound of toilet paper wondering whether I have enough, or whether I should just nip down to the store … or succumb to paranoia entirely by barricading myself inside my house, sealing up all the windows with duct tape and avoiding going out altogether.
Somehow neither idea seems all that appealing. But thanks to our new curfew the decision has been made for me.
Even less satisfying is trying to work out what outfit to wear if I do venture out to the grocery store. Not so long ago I used to stand in front of my closet wondering what I should wear “in case” I was recognised … now I struggle to coordinate my look with the yellow rubber gloves that I used to use to wash dishes and a surgical mask.
Oh, and did I mention that I wear glasses?
Picture the poor grocery store cashier trying not to laugh as I stood before him last week wearing bicycle gear, rubber gloves, a surgical mask and glasses so fogged up (from air escaping from the top of the mask) that I could barely see where I was going.
Finally, he could contain himself no longer … “you look just a minion!” he exclaimed. He was so right.
Or at least that’s what I think he said considering he was more than six feet away from me. In any event, my crazy brain suddenly conjured up the cartoon image of a minion from the movie Despicable Me competing in the Tour de France and I started to giggle uncontrollably completely obscuring what was left of my vision with condensation.
I had to take my glasses off just to find my way out of the store, and then suffer the indignity of having to push my bike halfway home because the bag of dogfood that I had purchased was somewhat too big for the carrier basket and threatened to overbalance the whole bike with the slightest gust of wind.
Ah the joys of shopping — disguised as exercise. Suffice it to say I have learnt my lesson and I have no plans of going out again until the cupboards are truly bare.
And on a more serious note, as much as I share my foibles, please learn from my mistake. Shelter in place as much as possible, and if you do decide to venture out wearing a protective mask, make sure it fits properly before you leave home.
Well, that’s all for now. You’ll forgive me for not saying “I wish you were here, I’m actually glad you aren’t”. Until next time stay safe, we’ll get through this together.