American Gothic and Wagner

Virus

 Vivid illness, you've got my number
 I know you're not far off
 Retreat is all I can muster, as
 Ubiquitous, you stalk me with calm intent
 Surrounded by beauty, I fight you with solitude

Betsy Marston

In common with millions of others we are sitting out CV-19 for the duration. When the first World War started, people were telling each other, "It'll be over by Christmas." Now, Trump has pronounced, "It'll be over by Easter." Easter is two weeks away, but London and New York are still on the accelerating slopes of the plague, so they are going to have to reach their peaks very rapidly to meet the president's schedule.

Meanwhile, we sit enjoying the sunlight, doing some gardening and enjoying the early spring sunshine. Mary-Anne came round yesterday to bring some shopping; she left it on the table on the patio, and talked to us through the open window. She took a picture of us, saying we reminded her of Grant Wood's American Gothic. We are so fortunate to have each other; so many people must be forced to sit this out alone.

Sitting out CV-19

The Hundon Gazette came yesterday. It had a large poster we have put in the window warning visitors to keep away, and has collated a list of local volunteers offering to help those in need. It is so good to be reminded that the world is not all evil, but there is also goodness fighting the darkness. Even so, the usual naysayers immediately swung into action decrying these actions, and saying the Gazette should not have been delivered because it risked bringing infection into people's home. Well just burn the thing, I say, if you're frightened to touch it!

In common with many others, we are reading or writing; or watching television, Netflix, and old videos while awaiting the figures of doom announced as the deaths mount round the world. Nine years ago, we started to watch The Ring, or Der Ring des Nibelungen to give it the full title, staring Bryn Terfel as Wotan, broadcast live at the Arts Theatre Cinema in Bury. We could only see the first two because of prior commitments on the second weekend, but later Ann treated me to the DVD set.
It is based on characters from the Norse sagas, and as potent a story as Tolkien's, depicting as it does the forging of the ring symbolising power made from the theft of the Rhinegold, then the repeated wars to possess the power. Last night we watched the first, Das Rheingold, and were transported into that other world. For a while we could leave our own worries or fears as we were swept away from this earth, such is the power of the music, the sets, the characters and the story.

The Last Sight of England

A Last View of England?

Just when I have time to spare, and am getting stronger and more able to take on some voluntary work, I am barred from doing so. However, once a medic always a medic. I remain a qualified doctor and still on the Medical Register, so even though I can no longer offer face-to-face support, I will be glad to do so by phone or email.

On a beautiful spring day, I worked in the garden. This afternoon I thought to take the dogs, not to Clare, but just through the empty sports field opposite to post some letters for Ann. But then the rumours started that even local, solitary dog walks are to be banned, so I chose instead to take a last longer walk round the outskirts of Hundon, through the fields past the church, then back via the postbox. The whole village is deserted; I only saw two cars and not a soul I needed to dodge.

At the top of the hill, I overlooked the village church and a few houses (Hundon is a very small village) and was reminded of Ford Madox Brown's title, The Last of England. If we are soon to be banned completely even from a local dog walk, then this may be the last view I have of our Suffolk hills and fields, if not for ever, certainly for some time.  I am in the older age group, and carry many risk factors should I become CV-positive, so I have a deep personal interest in staying isolated.

Whatever happens, it is certain that nothing will be the same once the pandemic has past. Many will die, many firms and businesses will be gone, and many people will lose their jobs. There will be unemployment, and shortages in unexpected areas from supply chain disruption. The huge input of finance from the Bank of England will ameliorate some of the worst, but will probably lead to inflation and shock increases in the bank rate. But at least, once it is past, we can get out to enjoy what is left of England.

Light a candle for Mothers' Day

Happy Mothers' Day. 

To all our hardworking wives and mothers, our hearts go out to you. You unstintingly work through the year to support us and sustain us, both physically and mentally. Today is the one day when we try to thank you and remind ourselves how important you all are in our lives, but it has cruelly been snatched away.

A Candle to Mothers Everywhere

Ann and I had booked a Mothers' Day meal at the Swan, but last night it was closed by government decree and all such meals are no more. After the letter of despair by Nick, the manager, he followed it up by offering all the food they had bought in for sale at the rear window: eggs, veggies, beer (bring your own jug) and wines. It must be heartbreaking for him and the staff. If they begin to offer takeaway meals, we have vowed to have some regularly to continue supporting a vital community service (i.e. the local pubs).

Tonight, in celebration of Ann and mothers everywhere, I intend to light a candle at the window at 7.00pm. It will burn as a light of hope in this time of darkness, and I urge you all everywhere, young or old, to do the same - let us remember their part in our lives, and let us strive to banish the blackness of the curtain that is falling upon us.

Picnic in the forest

Today being clear and sunlit, we started our semi-quarantine, driving to Epping Forest forest for a picnic in the car, a vast stretch of dense woodland nearly twenty kilometres long. It is the Spring Solstice, when all the world is equal, as much in daylight hours as it is now in fighting a common enemy. Epping Forest is dark, ancient and foreboding. It reflects the mood of the moment, seeming to be scarcely touched by man; there are scattered dark pools and swampy bogs hidden in unsuspected corners. It seems to manage with minimal help from the forestry commission: many of its largest and oldest trees were allowed to fall at Nature's hand in the last gale and lie where they snapped through, great jagged upthrusting half-trunks with the rest of the trunk crashing and splintering smaller neighbours with its crown and side arms making the paths difficult to find or walk through.

The forest is written with history from its oldest roots. Unlike many newly created woodlands, it is one of England's primeval forests, dating back to pre-Neolithic times. It is the scene of countless murders and unlawful burials, including more than thirty murders by the Kray brothers' gang alone, and more recently the "Babes in the Wood" murders. Even highway men such as Dick Turpin had their hideouts here, to ambush wealthy coaches on the road from London to Newmarket for the races. Surrounded by the creaking trees and rustling wind we ate our sandwiches and took a glass of wine. Then, getting out to walk the dogs, Ann found a wallet ground into the mud behind the car! It lacked any identification, but was distinctly creepy, knowing the history and reputation of the place.

Wallet found in Epping Forest

Our world ends tonight

Friday 20th March 2020 will be recorded in English history as the ending of the world. This morning, I had the last of my routine appointments at the dermo clinic to read the patch tests; the consultant confirmed mine was the last routine appointment for the foreseeable future, as everything was cancelled from next week to prepare for the great plague.

We came home via the Long Melford garden centre for Ann to buy a few pieces. I walked the dogs then waited at the car; she came out with just two take-away cups of coffee, the last before the cafe closes. This afternoon Ann went for her hair appointment - this also will be the last. Again, I stayed clear of people, walking the dog, and waiting in the carpark of the Swan. Ann went to the restaurant section as the bar was unusually full for an afternoon, with all the regulars taking a last drink. Nick the manager had a long face, fearing what was coming. In the Clare Facebook page, they write:

We would just like to say thank you to all our customers for your continued support, it really has meant so much to us. An even bigger thank you to our team who have been with us from day one. You have been the best team we could of ever asked for and it has been a real pleasure to work with you. We are not sure what the future holds now but we wish you all the very best and hope you all stay safe. Best wishes Nik and Victoria.

Ann bought two drinks and brought them out so we could take them in the car. Then home to indefinite isolation.

On this day, too, Northwick Park Hospital announced it was full beyond capacity due to CV. This is the hospital I visited before Christmas to examine and report on their Phase I unit before we signed them up to run a clinical trial. Now they may need to requisition the unit and send all the study patients home.

This has been handled so badly. It could have been anticipated that people would stock pile when told they may have to go into blanket isolation for weeks at a time. The government should have brought in powers of rationing at the outset.

Now to shut everything, every shop, bar, restaurant, gym... and every pub! So many people out of work, so many places will never reopen. It is crazy - the majority of younger people will only have mild infection; many may not even know they've had CV. Is this the best way? I don't know, but one has to assume the government is selecting the best of bad options based on best advice.

Because it's only the older ones who will suffer and block the NHS, perhaps it would have been more sensible to confine us to barracks and leave the rest of society to carry on. We who are most at risk would respond willingly and sensibly to keep isolated. We have no wish to die or take up intensive care beds. Perhaps the rest of society could have carried on and kept the country running. We will never know what the alternatives might have done, but maybe then no one would have even thought to stockpile.

Mending the rabbit

Andre's Easter Bunny

On Tuesday, Ann met Edwin in Cambridge for a quiet pre-Mother's Day meal. Afterwards, on the way back to his apartment, they stopped at HomeSense. Edwin said this was his partner's favourite store, so phoned to let him know they were there. Five minutes later, Andre was at the door to join them. Going round the store, he spotted a ceramic rabbit with huge glasses perched on its nose. "Oh, I love that rabbit!" he said. Edwin immediately promised to buy it for him as a gift. Andre gleefully picked it up, but he is a little clumsy and the rabbit slipped from his grip, falling with a loud crash onto the shelf below, scattering pottery and vases everywhere. Luckily the rabbit and the pottery survived intact, but to his distress the glasses had shattered.

Andre carefully picked up each shard and fragment he could find, carried them with the rabbit to the checkout, and asked if he could have a bag for the pieces. The girl said he could get a new one, but he was too honest and said no, he would like to pay for it as he damaged it. She said, in that case he could have it for a reduction as it was damaged!

Getting home, he proceeded to repair it, gluing the pieces carefully together like a complex jigsaw, and finally they were almost as good as new. Now it occupies a place of pride on the shelf; all his hours spent training as an engineer and putting together Lego Star Wars kits have finally paid off.

Virus

Well,
look what's coming for us now
a crazy insane virus
made to wipe us out
stopping us from shopping,
going to a bar -
now that is really going
far too bloody far.

Annie Elliott 

Another frightened rabbit this week seems to be our great PM. Boris Johnson has continued to run behind the curve each time he holds a press conference, falling back on "I have been advised to..." rather than "I intend to do...". Every new restriction seems to be in response to what is already happening; schools were already closing before he announced that they must, and theatres closed in response to his advice to the public, rather than a pronouncement that "they will be closed". The same with pubs and restaurants - The Cock in Clare has voluntarily closed for the duration, to protect staff and customers; but Boris has yet to state that "they must be closed"; no doubt this too will follow the event.

The pubs of England are closing

Another hospital appointment this morning for patch testing. Forty small patches of various allergens were stuck across wherever the skin of my back was intact. Everything still seems so normal; the clinics were running to time, and there was an air of calm in the midst of an impending storm. The dermatological nurse told me they would all be moved to the front line when the CV storm hits; dermatology is a quiet 9-5 speciality, so her regret was that she would have to go back to shift work.

Later, we went to Tesco for Ann to get some more shopping while I walked the dogs and waited outside. We are preparing for my isolation from society. In Tesco, the shelves were decimated and we heard of two women fighting over a toilet roll! The checkout girl told us she had only just come on duty and had to work until 11:00pm. She added that a checkout person in Sainsbury's had been grabbed by the throat over some disagreement. We felt for her, and hoped she would stay safe. Afterwards we called in the Red Lion in Horseheath for a relaxing drink; there were few customers and we sat in a quiet corner. But on our return, we heard the announcement from the PM that we were strongly advised not to go to pubs or restaurants, though they haven't yet been firm enough to ban visits. But it looks as though that will be my last trip out for some time. English pubs are being closed? It is the end of the world we know.