One thing I have struggled with during the lockdown is reading. I’m not sure why, because reading has always been a great form of escape for me. It’s as if my brain refuses to leave the place it’s at now to go to places of fantasy, murder, and intrigue. It’s frustrating to say the least.
Maybe it’s because I’m feeling like John Coffey in The Green Mile, which coincidentally is one of my favourite books.
There is a lot of awful stuff going on. Not just in South Africa, but globally. It makes me sad, even though I know there is nothing I can do about it. As far as possible I try to live in my little bubble, oblivious to what’s going on around me, but the muck still filters through.
After 126 days in lockdown, there is still no real sign of when a sense of normality will return. I know that life as we knew it before COVID-19 will never be the same, but still, having the freedom to do some of the things we used to, would be nice. Anyhow, I’m not going to rant. It just sets me off into a downward spiral.
If for nothing else, this lockdown has taught me to utilise my kitchen. I am not going to lie – if The Cave didn’t come with a dishwasher included in the rent, I would be living in PB&J sammies, served on paper plates and drinking my coffee out of a paper cup.
I watched Contagion on Monday night. What a stellar cast! The movie itself was spooky in a sense – how a work of fiction released nine years ago is so close to what’s happening today. I keep wondering if any of the clever people have checked the DNA sequence of our novel virus with the fictional one. With the truth being stranger than fiction, I wouldn’t be surprised if it was a match. Anyone who hasn’t seen it, should watch it. It puts things into perspective.
Waking up to the pitter-patter of the gentle rain this morning was a welcome surprise. It made me feel less guilty for a slow start out the blocks. Most of the days during lockdown have been sunny and warm – beach and ice-cream weather. I will never be blasé about living in a seaside town again, because even though I hate the sand, I wouldn’t mind just sitting on it, watching the waves break.
It’s day 25 of lockdown. As far as I know The Bean and The Toppie are fine (from COVID-19, that is), my friends haven’t murdered their spouses nor eaten their young, and my lettuce experiment appears to be successful.
Today is day 20 of the lockdown. Like the featured image of this post, it feels as though time moves at a snail’s pace of late. I have slowed down. As I sit typing this post, I can hear the waves crashing in the distance, and the occasional cheep of a wagtail. The local hotel’s resident ducks are also meandering around the neighbourhood by the sounds of things. All these sounds have just been drowned out by an aircraft that is audibly flying very low.
Days 9 and 10, Saturday and Sunday, or in my case Eat and Sleep…and Day 11: Moanday…
Aside from the delicious ravioli that I prepared; I made a focaccia pizza in the slow cooker. I was on a video call with Eliza, and completely forgot about the bread, which burnt to a crisp at the base and along the edges, so it was kind of flop-paccia. I think the recipe is meant for a large slow cooker, because mine rose quite a bit more than the picture on the recipe. Still, it tasted delicious. I’ll make it again as it is a superb way to use leftovers.