Text and pics contributed by Florence
Since I stopped teaching on March 19th, these beloved shoes have been on my feet every day while I have painted ceiling and walls; sawed up a big sheet of plywood and made it into a floor; varnished door treads, hammered in nails, drilled holes, dug the vegetable plot, planted potatoes, done some weeding and even washed a floor or two.
I also enjoyed a solitary walk by the Deben as night was falling ten days ago.
Text and pics contributed by Simon F.
Having worked long hours for a few days I gave myself Thursday afternoon off and headed out for a walk to get my Government Approved daily exercise. I wasn’t expecting to see too many people out and about at 2pm on a Thursday. I wanted to abide by the 2 metres separation rule so that was fine by me, yet it was eerily quiet as I walked off the housing estate and headed towards the countryside.
I initially followed one of my favourite local walks, heading out along the Sandlings Way. Where the official route headed towards a popular wooded area with a boardwalk path I decided to go a different way. On that path it would be impossible to keep 2 metres away from anyone coming from the other direction, so instead I ventured off along some other tracks and paths I wasn’t familiar with.
I hadn’t seen anyone since stepping out of my front door. For 2 hours I walked without seeing a living soul. I could have been the last man alive. It was slightly unnerving. I did see horses and ponies in fields. I surprised some muntjac deer and rabbits, which were not expecting anyone to venture onto their turf. I watched a hovering kestrel dive down into the undergrowth to catch its next meal. But still no people.
Having completed an improvised circular route I returned to the Sandlings Way to head back home. It was now about 4pm and at last people started to appear on the path. It felt reassuring to know they were there. The peace and quiet was shattered by yapping dogs, joggers and lycra-clad men on bikes. At last it started to feel a bit more ‘normal’, only with everyone quite rightly giving everyone else a wide berth.
This seems to be the way it will be for a while. Walks alone or with fellow housemates will replace our sociable days out in the countryside. But this can’t last forever. I am looking forwards to seeing the rest of Ipswich Outdoor Group when the current crisis subsides.
Stay safe everyone.
Pics and text contributed by M-L
Starting the series with an overview of a really pedestrian day; things can only get better from here. It would be great if people who have access to countryside walks would share the coming of spring with those of us who cannot get so far afield, as well as novel ideas for killing time indoors.
Still, while ordinary, my day was not sad, deprived or lonely and, well larded with WhatsApp, phone chats, shared humour and concern for buddies and family, I think it is sustainable. It helps hugely that I can go to my allotment for as long as I like each day – getting plenty of productive exercise, the pleasure and anticipation of crops to come, and rather more serial natters than usual – albeit spaced 10 metres or more apart – as allotment holders are turning up more consistently. [It’s not too late in the season to take one on! https://www.ipswich.gov.uk/content/renting-allotment]
I also fit in a near-daily visit to my nearby ancient relic (90-year-old dad), ringing his doorbell, depositing a bag of cooked meals and treats on the mat and stepping back four paces to chat. He’s rather enjoying the service – especially as his next food delivery slot is not for another fortnight! At 90, with heart failure and a recent near deadly bout of pneumonia, the UK Govt and NHS do not consider him ‘vulnerable’ and therefore he is ineligible for preferential treatment!
Anyway, I love cooking for my three geographically closest family members – father, mother and sister (who cautiously picks up and delivers to the old mum in Woodbridge) – knowing that they are eating my food, even if not at my table. There are many roads to comunality. Let’s explore them all.