Distancing
We’re back to normality in that we’ve been home for well over a month now, but it’s a strange normality. Skye is very quiet at the moment and that’s a bad thing for those reliant on tourism. But it has its bonuses too. We can walk safely along the single track roads without worrying about endless streams of cars and motor homes for one thing. And following the advice to stay local for daily exercise, that means we can still vary our route.
Going into the post office one person at a time, or chatting with your neighbours from a safe distance, feels odd. Lots of the shops in Portree (the island’s capital) are closed. The library is, too. I went there the day before they shut their doors, not knowing that was about to happen, and was surprised at how depleted the shelves looked. People are panic borrowing, too - stockpiling books in readiness for the long haul.
This in itself was actually quite heartening; the thought that not everyone intends to rely on TV or social media to pass the time. And it meant I didn’t suffer the usual overwhelm in terms of choosing my own stack to take away. A smaller selection can be helpful at times. So far I’ve read Karen Thompson Walker’s The Dreamers, and was amazed at how very apt it was. I didn’t know what it was about until I started reading, but the story follows a town where a strange virus suddenly takes hold of the people living there, sending them into a deep sleep from which some never recover. I really enjoyed it, although the whole thing did feel a bit too close for comfort.
I’m now part way through Bitter Orange by Claire Fuller, and have been dipping in and out of Horatio Clare’s The Light in the Dark: A Winter Journal. Obviously one to read in winter, but it’s beautifully written and life is kind of turned on its head right now, so why not?
There are a couple of other promisingly hefty novels by the bed, and I’ve been revisiting some old pony books by the Pullein-Thompson sisters, and my favourite Jill series by Ruby Ferguson. I loved these as a youngster and dreamed I would be Jill if they ever made a TV series… These are, to me, the ultimate comfort reading - and the illustrations are perfection.
We have been making the most of Netflix too, of course. Ozark is great and - like pretty much everyone else - we were hooked on The Tiger King. Comfort viewing, to go with the reading, would have to be Gardener’s World.
Jay’s still home and is getting used to being here through the week, but it is all a bit disorientating. You keep forgetting what day it is, let alone the date.
We’ve made things and done jigsaws and Joe’s sending letters back and forth with his school friend. We did an Easter egg hunt too. We’re keeping occupied. Much pottering is taking place.
We’ve been baking too, pies and cake, and I’ve taken inspiration from our NYC trip. It was all about ‘bowl’ food. Poke bowls, protein bowls, whatever. I actually brought a lovely ceramic dish back with me just for this very thing, and have done a fair bit of research on Pinterest regarding assembling said meals. You add a protein, a starch, greens etc etc. Handy when you’ve got plenty of tinned lentils, chickpeas and so on. And brown rice and quinoa. Just in case.
We’ve been hanging out in the garden, playing in the tent, eating lunch out there when it’s warm enough. The cherry tree should smothered in blossom within a week or so. I took a cutting from a rogue dogwood I spotted growing on some rough ground in the winter (there’s a eucalyptus there as well but apparently they’re difficult to make take), and it’s now sprouted buds. I took more cuttings from some of our own shrubs too - Buddleja globosa and the flowering currant.
The lupins and monkshood are pushing up lots of leaves, and the Centaurea is bounding ahead.
A stream forms the boundary on one side of the garden and Joe plays there all the time. We also like to wade from one end to another - not that easy as the stones are slippery, and there’s a lot of ducking down beneath the willows and hazels. But there are primroses and celandines growing along the banks now, and a few gooseberry bushes have established themselves amongst the hawthorns.
We’ve been planting carrots and sunflowers, and taking houseplant cuttings. I have so many ‘string of hearts’ plants (rosary vines) I’m not sure where to put them. The same goes for spider plants. We have a Skye plant swap page on Facebook, so maybe once things return to normal I’ll offer some on there.
There’s been a few days of decent weather but it’s gone chilly again, and windy and wet. I see people’s Instagram pictures, where they’re sunbathing and walking barefoot outdoors in kaftans, and it does make me envious. I’m still in woolly tights and jumpers. The electric blanket’s still on the bed, and the Welsh woollen blanket’s a necessity too.
I just head to The 80s Interior on IG when the sunshine photos get too much. It’s my favourite account. I love the 80s. My birthday money (next month) is going on a Swatch watch. I haven’t owned a watch since Joe was 18 months old and dropped mine on the floor and all the mechanisms broke and the hands fell off.
(The picture below, by the way, was taken in the ‘middle’ bedroom. It’s where my clothes live, and a bookcase filled with paperbacks. The chest of drawers behind me is lined up for a makeover (sanding and bleaching/liming). I’m not a fan of orange pine. And the wardrobe - it’s an old one and I’m undecided on what to do to it. It would make a great kitchen cupboard/larder but we’re not sure if we could get it down our narrow stairs. And yes, that spider plant is living in a wastepaper bin because I’ve run out of nice plant pots).
But anyway… spring IS on its way. Soon we’ll have lambs everywhere, and the bluebells will follow. The ferns are unfurling in the woods. This enforced slowing down makes you appreciate these things all the more - and appreciate the people who have no choice but to be out there every day dealing with this awful situation and risking their own health and that of their families.
For those of us fortunate enough to be able to stay home, that puts everything into perspective.
