Cocooned Day 3

Head Rambles Posted on by 5

I’m bored.

There is no reason for this. As I have said, life is no different from the pre-virus days but there is a subtle difference – I can’t do those things that I wouldn’t do anyway but can’t do now because of the restrictions. The fact that they don’t want me to do them makes me want to do them all the more.

The rebellious spirit is a tough task master.

Herself is suffering from the same malady. She hasn’t been out of the house in many months [she still hasn’t seen the car I bought last August] but suddenly now is roaring for a trip into the Great Outside. Her attitude is fuck the law [we’re well matched] which is grand, but I had to point out that there was nowhere to go as everywhere is shut.

Anyways. Fuck it. I’m going down the village later. I have to pick up some prescriptions and stock up on a couple of other things. If The Law finds me and gets uppity I’ll just declare that I’m insulted if they think I look that old. Or else I’ll refuse to wind down the car window on the grounds that I am scared of being infected.

If you don’t hear from me again it’s probably because I have been shipped off to the Leper Colony they have secretly been constructing on Great Blasket Island.

A Police State

Head Rambles Posted on by 9

Things are starting to get serious here.

I went down to the village yesterday and there was a whacking great sign erected on the main street. It was one of those portable ones that they love sticking up at the side of motorways warning you of some minor danger ahead and generally causing a greater danger by distracting drivers. The sign was apparently a message from our health mob warning us all to keep our distance and that any illegally parked car would be towed away. I haven’t a fucking clue what the last bit was about as a) the place was deserted so there was tons of parking and b) I didn’t know cars had to practice social distancing anyway. How the fuck can the health service dictate where I park?

Neighbour sent me a text just after I got home. Apparently he had also just nipped down to the village [I must have just missed him] and had been stopped by The Law demanding to know where he was going and what he was at. I suppose if I had been stopped I would have been told I was a being naughty boy and to go back home at once. Aren’t we living in happy times?

Reading through their Emergency Legislation it seems they are quite serious about us wrinklies.

The restrictions mean people should not leave their homes other than in very limited circumstances for the next fortnight, while people over 70, or with an underlying medical condition should not leave their homes at all.

Under emergency legislation passed by the Oireachtas on Thursday gardaí will be empowered to enforce these restrictions, including to detain people refusing to comply.

Fuck that!

Report from inside a cocoon

Head Rambles Posted on by 11

It is amazing just how much my life has changed recently.

It seems like a lifetime, but a mere four weeks ago my life was normal. It was a quiet life mainly spent in or around the Manor looking after Herself, myself and the animals. Maybe once or twice a week I would potter down to the village to get essential supplies [i.e. baccy and fags].

Then along came the virus and restrictions started to set in. Suddenly and without warning I found myself restricted to the Manor looking after Herself, myself and the animals. I was allowed to potter down to the village to get essential supplies [i.e. baccy and fags] once or twice a week but that was it.

Last night they severely tightened up on the restrictions and have police patrolling to make sure I abide by those restrictions. I am now restricted to the Manor looking after Herself, myself and the animals. I am allowed to potter down to the village to get essential supplies [i.e. baccy and fags] once or twice a week but that is it.

Actually there is an additional restriction and that is that no one over seventy is allowed out at all at all. I am to be officially cocooned. I am now restricted to the Manor looking after Herself, myself and the animals. But seeing as there is no one to do it for me, I shall still potter down to the village to get essential supplies [i.e. baccy and fags] once or twice a week.

If they ask my age, I shall lie.

Ups and downs

Head Rambles Posted on by 14

I decided yesterday that the time had come to cut the grass.

I knew it was getting a tad long as it’s up to Penny’s chest now and the cat just disappears in it [but unfortunately reappears again].

So I went out to check the mower. Of course the battery was flat, as was one of the front tyres. I hauled off the wheel and after an hour or so of fighting I got it inflated again [who the fuck invented tubeless tyres?]. All I had to do then was hook up the charger to the battery and I left it to fill its boots.

I went out today to cut the grass. The fucking tyre is flat again. I know when I’m beaten so I got on the phone, found a place that does weird sized tyres and ordered an inner tube. They’ll have one for me in a couple of weeks. The dog will just have to cope and maybe the cat will ultimately get lost.

On a positive note, this is the weekend when the clocks change. We will get a whole extra hour of solitary isolation. I like to look on the positive side.

Also I managed to place an online order for groceries. I discovered that all I had to do was wait until midnight when their calendar switched to show a new day. Of course that day was all clear for orders so I grabbed a slot and put in a large order.

They’ll deliver it in three weeks time.

If we haven’t starved by then.

The Hunter Gatherer

Head Rambles Posted on by 6

I am just back from the village.

As I set out I realised that I had a lot in common with my ancient ancestors – heading off into the surrounding countryside to see what I could forage in the way of supplies. I had neither crossbow nor rifle with me but the principle remains the same.

The only way my life has changed in the past few weeks is the complete disruption to my food supply. Normally I alternate between two grocery suppliers who deliver on a next day basis. They are both out of the equation now. I went into one site and all the slots are taken up to and including April 24th. That’s as high as their calendar goes. The other site just doesn’t work any more. So I am left to my own resources.

There is a bloke they keep wheeling out on television [something to do with some emergency committee or other]. He is the epitome of doom. For an expert, his forecasts are about as gloomy as possible. You can almost see the little black thundercloud hanging over his head. Recently he announced that if we weren’t all worried or scared then there was something seriously wrong with us. Not bad at a time when we are all supposed to be calm?

So I was worried [as he will be pleased to hear] but not scared. My life is exactly as it has been for years now. We are experts in the art of “social distancing” and even “social isolation” but we have always had plentiful supplies. Until now. The last time I was in the village I got the last two tiny bottles of milk which lasted for three days, but today I ran out.

So down I went to the village, somewhat full of trepidation.

I came back somewhat full of supplies.

I got milk, fruit, baccy and fags. I also got enough meals to do us into next week. No problem. The shelves were fully stocked and the only place that was closed was my coffee shop [and a couple of other shops of no interest which I had never even been in]

So Yer Man on the telly can go fuck himself.

I’m not worried any more.