One day closer to the best of answers
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TODAY is day 41 of lockdown for me. And with my cumulative my total walking exercise at 197.34 miles it will be the day I cross the 200-mile barrier.
I suppose you will have given no thought to the process by which I write my daily diary. Why would you? I reveal now that it is rarely a continuous process. And one important break has just taken place. I get the call from the kitchen – "dishes" – and move to pick up the towel to dry the dishes as the boss transfers them to the drying tray and then to put them away in the cupboards.
The walk to the cutlery drawer means I look out into the garden through the glass door between the kitchen and outdoors. For the very first time in the 17 years we've lived in this house, a pine marten has just passed from right to left at the bottom of the garden. Indeed it is the first pine marten I have ever seen.
My spouse is very irritated by all this. Firstly, because she did not manage to make it to the door in time to see the beastie. But secondly, because she has been canvassing strongly, and for some time, for me to buy and instal wildlife cameras. My sloth on this matter is going to have to be addressed later today if it is not to become a matter of serious and continuing friction.
She is not the only canvasser to pitch into view this weekend.
My walk yesterday took me on one of the diminishing numbers of new routes available to me. And one of the farmers to whom I referred earlier, greeted me cheerily as he stopped to close the gate of the field he had just left. He zoomed up the road but returned within about five minutes.
He stopped adjacent to me, opened the door of his tractor and indicated a desire for conversation. Maintaining a proper two metres of separation, it would be fair to say that we spent the next 10 minutes in a robust exchange of views. Mannerly, and properly conducted, but robust. Little of it on farming or Covid-19.
It turned out that he as drove home, he had twigged that the only person with vividly designed galluses, known in the area, was me. The fact that I was wearing a large Australian bush hat to keep the sun off my face had not protected my anonymity. I was his, well actually definitely not 'his', MSP, our political views are unlikely ever to converge.
His opening salvo was to accuse me of breaking the social isolation rules by being about 4 miles from home. "No", I responded, pointing out that they permit my leaving home for exercise once a day provided social distancing continued. I could have also responded that his driving back to engage with me was not within the rules. But chose not to. I suspect he will not repeat the 'offence.
At the conclusion of our 'debate', he drove off again, clearly turned around quite soon and tooted and waved cheerily as he passed me again and resumed his drive home.
I suspect that I relieved some of his isolation boredom, he is my age and thus another eighth decader, and that that underlay his choosing to return and engage with me.
Early afternoon saw my video-meeting with Darcey, my oft-referred-to god-daughter and adults in her circle. She seemed in fine fettle and came forward in the discussion. That was good, because like I too was at her age, she is a natural 'watcher'who carefully considers her interventions and controls the impulsive side of her nature. So like me, it ain't true.
But text exchanges later with mum revealed that she is finding the lack of contact with her chums desperately difficult. And I suspect she will not be alone.
So I will be sending her an email later today with some thoughts about a project for her period of isolation. It simply won't be enough to point out that I will, almost certainly, be isolated much longer than is likely for her. So I won't say that.
I think she will have some good ideas locked away in her cerebral cavity. I just have to find a way of bringing them out.
Tomorrow is day 42. The Hitchhiker's Guide to Galaxy describes the finding of the answer to the ultimate question, and it took millions of years to find it, by which time people had forgotten the question. The answer was 42.
Will the forty-second day bring the answer? No. But we will be another day closer to it.
Visit Stewart Stevenson's blog for more reflections on the lockdown.
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