I’m wondering if this 21-day government-enforced house arrest is going to be long enough.
Nothing to do with catching or transmitting the new ‘flu du jour’, you understand, but my real concern is the 1 000-piece jigsaw puzzle. I bought it for my wife last week as one of her birthday presents (the completely rebuilt Rolls Royce Silver Shadow 2 in her favourite nail-varnish colour is still to be delivered) and she loves it. More than she will the Rolls when it eventually arrives, I suspect.
‘How clever of you to know that we would all be in lockdown awaiting Armageddon’ she cooed in appreciation as she tore the gift wrapping from the pack. At first she thought I’d given her a pack of A4 printing paper, but that would have been a bit on the generous side. So it was just the 1 000-piece jigsaw puzzle and it now occupies half the dining table. Since we’re unlikely to be socializing with anybody within the foreseeable future, this is a brilliant use of available space.
Time on our side
Many jigsaw-puzzle enthusiasts reckon that you should seek out the straight-edged bits first and build the jigsaw from the frame in. Since we appear to have an enormous amount of time on our side we have (well, actually she is in control of the operation) constructed the puzzle from the middle outwards, and I have to say that things seem to be proceeding rather well.
The subject matter is a large ginger cat sat on a bookshelf with assorted items such as keys, flowers in vases and books. The book titles are easier to find, so that is how the puzzle is being put together at the moment.
I’m waking up at three in the morning worrying about whether I accidentally vacuumed a piece from the puzzle when I was prancing around with the Miele the other day
The ginger bits making up the cat are going to be a nightmare, but that’s what self-isolating is all about. Many of my acquaintances are waking up at three in the morning in a cold sweat worrying how they are going to pay their bonds or save their companies from financial ruin. I’m waking up at three in the morning worrying about whether I accidentally vacuumed a piece from the puzzle when I was prancing around with the Miele the other day.
Of course, it’s easy to wear sackcloth and ashes and to be near-suicidal over this whole Covid-19 thing. But look on the bright side. The heir to the throne in the UK and the Prime Minister have both tested positive, which adds a certain cachet to the whole thing. No longer is this a virus that affects Mr Nobody in some obscure Chinese province that nobody had heard of three months ago. This is a designer virus and we are all entitled to victimhood now.
In these troubled times, though, one must look for a spark of optimism and this is precisely what I propose to give you today. As the famous Monty Python film Life of Brian said…always look on the bright side of life.
Pursuing those points
You may not be able to walk your 10 000 steps a day and get your Discovery Vitality points that easily, but ask yourself why you were pursuing those points so vigorously in the first place. It was to achieve Diamond Status and be entitled to up to 35% off an airfare, whether domestic or international.
As an aside, Mr Gore (if you’re reading this), I no longer do cattle class so please negotiate a similar discount for Emirates First or Business class. Just in case we are ever able to fly again.
Like so many people, I suspect, my walk from the bathroom to the bedroom and to the kitchen is not going to translate to 10 000 steps a day so I’m rapidly losing interest in booking flights ever again. Who knows where I could be trapped when the next virus breaks out? Not having to do 10 000 steps a day will be a huge relief.
Funerals, as we all know, are hellishly expensive and there’s all that catering to take into consideration. If you snuff it under Covid-19, it’s a small-scale affair because of the fear of infection. So you can dispose of your loved ones at minimal cost and encourage friends and relatives to send condolences on social media. Some people are rather sensitive on these matters and, if you’re one of them, I apologise.
so a silk-lined mahogany coffin sprinkled with essence of Lagavulin 16-year-old malt is quite out of the question
My own thoughts are the quicker and cheaper the better if I happen to snuff it. After the gouging (don’t you love that word?) of the financial markets, Mrs B is going to need all the cash she can get her hands on just to survive, so a silk-lined mahogany coffin sprinkled with essence of Lagavulin 16-year-old malt is quite out of the question.
Then there’s the Covid-19 diet to consider. Many people I know have spectacular kitchens which they would hate to spoil by actually using them. Once you start using an oven for cooking things in, all hell breaks loose and you can never remove those stubborn grease marks left by roast lamb. Far better to leave the oven instruction manual in its original plastic wrapper in the oven and order in. For many people, an oven is just something to fill the space between the largely unused hob and the built-in designer espresso machine. But Covid has changed all that and folk who were used to eating out five times a week may have to acquaint themselves with such skills as cooking scrambled eggs. Since many people haven’t a clue how to prepare food, we can safely assume a national weight loss situation over the next few weeks.
Among the grape vines
As we write, there is some uncertainty as to whether I can leave my home and take a walk among the grape vines on the estate on which I live, obviously avoiding any close contact with my neighbours. The Home Owners’ Association trustees have said no, but I am allowed to go and queue for essential foodstuff with my neighbours at my local supermarket. So my plan is this. I am going to dress in women’s clothes and go for my morning walk. And if anyone objects I’ll simply accuse them of being transphobic and report them to the SAHRC.
Stay safe and keep a sense of humour. You’re going to need it in the coming months.
The views of the writer are not necessarily the views of the Daily Friend or the IRR
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