Storm Diary 10 – Business
Sunday 15th March 2020
Business as usual.
I check to see whether Non-Sick Sprog’s football match is still on. It is. We’re British, so why wouldn’t it be?
Does a kids’ footy match count as a petri dish? Probably not. Lots of shouting and running around in the open air – at close proximity, hopefully, only with the football. And the football in close contact with the goalpost and net.
Still, I don’t fancy hanging around gossiping with the other parents, when the mums of other European countries aren’t even allowed to step foot outside their own homes. So, instead of doing the pretend-to-be-interested-in-football thing myself, I send Hubby.
Hubby has no qualms about mixing with the riff-raff and indulging in a bit of cross-contamination. He’s been at work for the last week collecting up viruses from keyboards, hard-drives, mice and all manner of leads, plugs and switches, so what difference will an open-air football event make?
In any case, Sick Sprog ought not to be left alone. Alternative Sick-Sprog Sitter, Old Non-Sick Sprog, is off to do a long shift at Pizza Express. Personally, I’m not sure I’d want to take my chances in the food industry, during a Coronavirus outbreak but, from her point of view, she may as well get paid whilst she can. With dwindling customer numbers, she’s almost certain to be laid off within the next few weeks.
Hence, here I am – soaking up the latest news and stats about Coronavirus. Rapidly increasing cases, more deaths, and more prevarication from our Government; all demands for some scientific evidence to persuade the public that the UK’s ‘herd immunity’ approach is going to be effective, falling on deaf ears. No sighting of Boris. No sighting of any MP to give us any reassurances. No-one is interested in appearing on ITV’s Breakfast TV to explain themselves.
Why is the UK being so laid back? Why are we keeping schools open with the purpose of the deliberate infection of our young? And, if our over 70s are to be put into self-isolation for four months, or longer, why are they still roaming around freely picking up viruses today? Why not isolate them immediately?
I do a Google search and find an article criticising the herd-immunity approach. Apparently, 70% of us would have to catch Coronavirus for this to work. But if 70% of the free population are infected, once the oldies have been released from confinement, that percentage will be much decreased. The maths doesn’t add up!
I have the solution to all ills. I have an urge to knit. Haven’t done any knitting since my teenage years, when I concluded, several lovely jumpers later, that it was, really, a rather a boring activity, and exchanged it for dating. No chance of going on any dates now, not even with Hubby. Why spend money on food out, when even Hubby’s paid employment is in question? Why contract a virus from the chefs in our local restaurants, if one can eat my speciality – rice and peas (burnt onto the pan) – in the comfort of one’s own home?
In the absence of a dinner date, take up knitting again. Didn’t I chuck my knitting patterns in the recycling bin during one of my mass clearouts? No matter! I get onto Google, and soon find what I need. Casting on 90 stitches, I begin to knit 2, pearl 2, the pattern of events for the next 6 cm. Before I even reach 2cm, I realise I’ve gone wrong somewhere. Should have focused on the knitting, rather than the TV! I unravel the lot and start again.
Knit 2, pear 2, knit 2, pearl 2 …
I fail to get to even 1cm of the re-knit, before Hubby returns with Non-Sick Sprog. And I am told that a miracle has occurred. Sprog scored 3 out of her team’s 9 goals, and the opposition scored nil. It’s a first – we always lose! I await the slow reveal … The opposition were playing their first ever match. A start-up team? What is going on here? Why start a new football team up at the beginning of a pandemic?
We are British.
Keep calm and carry on …
Or don’t carry on.
I talk to Hubby about the possibility of home-schooling Non-Sick Sprog. As a redundant teacher, I might as well do something useful, other than knitting, with my oodles of free time. Hubby is persuaded (either that or it’s not worth his bother to disagree with me).
Non-Sick Sprog is informed that tomorrow – she will be home-schooled. She looks pleased. But then I tell her she still has to get up bright and early, ready for a 9am start. Home-school will mimic the timings of a normal school day, and all National Curriculum subjects will be covered. ‘What about PE?’ She asks.
No, not PE. I’ve never taught PE, in any of my previous incarnations, and I’m not about to start in this one. But we’ve always got the WiFit! And, failing that, some fine motor-coordination exercises. Non-Sick Sprog’s going to learn how to knit. It’s an essential skill during the apocalyse, isn’t it?
Knit 2, pear 2, knit 2 …. drop a
Copyright of photo, & text, owned by Jay Cool, The Silly-Savvy Salopian
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