annanotbob2's Diaryland Diary


Day 20

Mainly about masks. With a bit of early painting at Tuesday stay at home art group which seems like a lifetime ago rather than this morning. This is one pic of the three I did, squeezed up sufficiently to not be able to see any of them properly:


The bottom one is already on its way to Stratford-Upon-Avon which is quite exciting.

So, I posted a thing on Facebook tagging in all the science-y people I could think of on my friends list, asking if they could say whether this claim from the Czech Republic that their figures are better than ours (that they're 'flattening the curve' faster), due to widespread use of masks is true or just more bollocks. Well, off they went, my pals, science-y and otherwise, wittering on, not answering the question, until finally someone posted this

which seemed enough for me at the time and I decided to stop fucking about and make some masks. I watched an instruction video, found everything I needed, dragged it all downstairs, where there's more room, cut out the pieces, took the sewing machine out of its cover and gulped a bit as I remembered it wasn't my old faithful, but a new superhuman, whizz-bang, fancy fucking thing I'd bought when I had a benefits repayment. The instruction manual runs to ninety six bloody pages. I could not for the life of me work out how to thread it. I could find the page in the manual, but couldn't see the illustration clearly enough to know what the fuck it was on about and I couldn't clearly see the bit on the machine with the needle either. My eyesight is shit but the optician I saw recently said it wasn't a deterioration in my eyes, but exhaustion (ffs), and I believed him because he was talking me out of buying an expensive pair of glasses. I thought I'd buy a magnifying glass ... actually I do have one somewhere, Ma's old one... I forgot that at the time and just cried and moaned and Bloke would have done it for me but at the very same time one of the cats must have shat outside of the litter box as he discovered that he'd stood in it and walked it into the carpet all round upstairs. He was livid, obviously, stamping about, swearing, getting red in the face, wielding the 'dirty' cleaning equipment (reserved for incidents such as this, puking and so on) and not being in the mood for threading sewing machines.

So I scarpered and took the dog to the meadow round the corner where two other people were separately walking their dogs and I realised that we're doing it sensibly now, by all walking clockwise round the field so we don't keep nearly bumping into each other. Dead creepy though - it is the end of the world as know it, isn't it? Yes, it is.  This is what made me so demented about the masks - this is potentially life and death, it's huge, beyond our comprehension. So I had a little cry and didn't let Shirley off the lead because I felt too broken to be able to get her back on it to walk home.

And when I got back Bloke had calmed down, cleaned the carpets and threaded the machine, so I made this: 290A2F15-308A-44C8-B308-C4F43DE994E1

which only took about ten minutes and was dead easy, but the elastic I had was too wide - 1/2" instead of 1/4" - and it didn't tuck in behind the ears. This photo was taken with an unfolded giant paperclip holding it on, and it was too tight. But Sis has a big roll of narrow elastic and she has to drive past here on her way to her horses so she's going to pop it through the letterbox tomorrow and on I will go.

I have questions - they need to be washed after every use, surely? Or every time they've been worn in proper public places, like shopping, where you're picking things up - you have to not touch your face and this can only help, but if you've touched something that. say, a person who has the infection but doesn't yet know it has breathed germs* all over, and you touch your mask, or breath in through your mask, collecting germs on the fabric, it needs to be washed, sterilised, surely? Boiled up in a saucepan, old school. Yet people are making these and selling them for a tenner a pop and you'd need at least three, if you're going out once a day, to get them washed and dried. So that's a bit crap.

*or whatever the fuck it is

Then Daughter facetimed me and I just wanted to see her right here, face to face, with a big hug, so much, so fucking much, that I had another big cry, for the not knowing how long, for the chance that it might be never, that one or both of us might not make it, for all this so soon after losing our Sammie, oh man, how can this be?

And I was still quite agitated until I remembered to do the yin yoga video and now I feel much more mellow despite reciting all my woes on here.

And I just saw this on Twitter, from @TechnicallyRon : I hate to say the boomers were right but I haven't bought a fancy coffee or brunch for two weeks and now I can afford a three bed house.

Today I am grateful for: still being alive, with a normal temperature and no cough; being able to facetime my darling girl; Bloke, who still gets right on my nerves, but is not a bad bloke really; the NHS and all who work in it; my big warm comfortable bed.

Night night, big love, stay cool. How are you doing? xxxx


12:34 a.m. - 01.04.20


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