Day 51 – here comes the weekend

It’s day 51, it’s Saturday and Mrs 6000 is more locked-down than ever, with back to back work-related Zoom calls for the entire weekend. Such a pity, when we had such wide-ranging plans for the family.

I’m left to my own devices.

I hosted a quiz last night, and I’m busy writing another one which I plan to hostĀ  tomorrow evening – I’m going international with this one.
The kids are amusing themselves with rebuilding society on Minecraft, and I have provided the beagle with a large bone, so I won’t need to do much else there for the rest of the day.

I finally started my sourdough starter today. I’m hoping that it’s the beginning of a long and beautiful relationship. I’ll keep you updated. I know you’ll be anxious to follow the story.

It’s technical, high-end stuff, with the website recipe I’m following suggesting that I “use kitchen scales” to weigh the ingredients, and “a thermometer” to check the room temperature.

Wild.

Day 50 – The last day

Today is the last day of my lockdown…

 

photo album on Flickr.

I’ve shared a photo every day of lockdown. Some have been quite good, some have been really very, very bad.

Please click through and have a look.

But now it’s been 50 days. It’s run its course.

It’s time to get back to taking photos of things I want to instead of things I need to. And so it’s time to close.

I’m finishing today on a positive note with the image above, entitled “Look straight ahead: there’s nothing but blue skies” from the Jimmy Cliff songĀ I can see Deirdre now Lorraine has gone.

Of course, there’s a lot more than blue skies to see: poverty, draconian regulations, corrupt government officials and virus… virus everywhere.

But a little blue skies thinking can go a long way to making you forget about all that nastiness.

Day 49 – The nextension

The President was only 22 minutes late for his address last night. In it, he said that there would be some relaxation of the lockdown at the end of the month and a gradual re-opening of the economy, but not for those areas with high and/or increasing transmission rates.

The next extension. The nextension.

The nextension means at least another 18 days at Level 4 before we even get considered for any sort of parole.

 

But as you can see, Cape Town is very much one of those red areas (it’s right at the top of the South African Covid tree, in fact), but then so are all the major metros to some extent. And Port Elizabeth.

And so it seems unlikely that we’ll get any lockdown relief any time soon. In the meantime, the economy will have rely on the 27 people who work outside Cape Town and Joburg, including the 2 guys in the Northern Cape.

Phew. Recession and economic disaster averted.

Not really – unless we are going to become a sand-based economy.
Still, I’m past ruling anything out at this stage.

Today, I’ve mainly been walking a grumpy beagle, putting the finishing touches to a quiz I’m hosting tomorrow evening, and helping out with school science projects. We’re delving deeply into Physics: my favourite of all the Sciences (assuming you exclude all the good ones first). I’m knee-deep in frequencies and wavelengths. I thought I’d left this all behind at school. That was always the plan, and indeed the intervening n years have been blissful – at least in their lack of physics.

(I admit that I have used gravity quite a bit, if I’m honest.)

My brain hurts and I need a beer. But even those have become much more valuable given the guaranteed extended time before I’m able to buy any more.

Day 48 – Plenty to go around

There aren’t a lot of positives at the moment ( I shared my observations on that here). But sometimes, all you have to do is look at the glass being half-full, rather than half-empty.

Sorry… did I say “glass? I meant dams.

Dams.

I really don’t want to be the first to mention this, but we’re halfway through May and we’ve not had any significant rainfall in the Cape yet. It’s stirring up early memories of the drought we went through between 2015-2018. While the virus has been (rightfully) taking centre stage, there are so many other problems that are still out there – they haven’t gone away just because we’re facing a bigger challenge right now.

The City has been (quietly) keeping us up to date with the demand for water and the dam levels. As you might expect in Autumn, (hopefully) heading into the rainy season, the dam levels aren’t all that they could be and they continue to decline slowly each week with the population using water and it not being replaced at quite the same rate.

I’m sure you know how it works.

However, it seems that the Covid-19 crisis might have some very positive spin-offs for the impending dry wet season – at least according to FB commenter Joachim:

 

Look, he’s not wrong: fewer residents use less water.

Fact.

There’s plenty of evidence of people leaving the city and trying to head home to their family homes in the Eastern Cape. And indeed, piles of corpses overwhelming our local medical facilities are unlikely to bathe, water their gardens or leave the tap running while they brush their teeth.

Which will save a fair bit as well.

But am I alone in thinking that Joachim hasn’t really gone through all of the implications of the situation he describes in his comment before sharing it with the world?

Day 47 – A moment of clarity

As one day blends into the next, into the next, into the next, it’s sometimes hard to work out when exactly we are right now. (No, that’s not a typo: I’m well aware of where I am, thank you very much.)
And so I’m just getting on with things: trying to keep the household going while listening to the radio.

And it was while doing these two exact things yesterday that I had a moment of clarity. Or whatever it is called when you have a moment which you immediately know you will remember for ages afterward. I’m not sure google would help me with that sort of query.

Anyway, mine was doing the ironing while listening to Karma Police by Radiohead. I dd quite a lot of ironing and listening to quite a lot of music yesterday, but most of it was understandably forgettable.

This moment though – a black and white check teacloth being flattened and Thom Yorke belting out some lovely lyrics from the speaker on the chest of drawers while the world unravelled outside – will always remain with me.

And I have no idea why.