I Wish That Bastard Never Ate A Bat

Updated: May 2, 2020

So after a wholesome week drew to a close, having foraged for wild garlic, made a pie and even baked a cake for the first time with Nel, in rolled the weekend, where of course, I fucking ruined all my good work by cracking open the wine. And the beers. And the gin and tonics.

I'd been to do our weekly big shop, something I'm very much not used to incidentally; instead being someone who would much rather "shop-as-you-go", however, like with most of us, I'm taking this whole Corona Virus thing very seriously, and just trying to get out to public places when necessary. Anyway, within the essential food shop, there was also copious amounts of alcohol, as well as a few treats from the middle aisle of Lidl (aren't Lidl and Aldi such delights; you go in for a bottle of wine and a packet of ham, and come out with a toy glider, a swing and a mini gardening set?!).

So I unpacked the shopping, and Sam went to the garden to light a bonfire, where I joined him with Nel, and we toasted marshmallows, listened to music and opened up some wine! Having had a 5 day hiatus from drinking, after having spent the previous week ensuring we had a drink in hand every day from at least 4, the booze went right to our heads. We ended up hungover by about 7pm, after a pitifully small amount of wine.

Nel got put to bed, we popped a Berocca and downed a few pints of water, and then reinstated the drinking. We had a Zoom call with friends, which was the closest thing we will ever get to a social life as things stand. I do find it all quite anxiety inducing; having multiple faces on the screen, and an awkward lag in time between responses. However, it was still nice to see friends, and to remember we're all in this big old shit show together.

We had a relatively early night, and spent the rest of the weekend in the garden, enjoying gin and tonics, and the first glimmer of summer. Sam continued doing up the garden; painting steps and repotting plants, with the help of Nel, now armed with her Lidl gardening set. When she'd had enough of outdoors, she could come inside, where Sam had fixed her Lidl swing seat, to our living room door frame, and she could scream at us to push her higher and higher, until her little heart was content.

We managed to get out to the beach for a socially distant walk, keeping to our own space and not touching anything, and whilst down there, checked in on our little closed up shop. It made me feel so sad to see it looking all lonely and closed. It would have been the start of the Easter Holidays, and we'd have been been having one of our busiest spells of the year. Instead, we now face a time where we don't know when we'll be able to trade again, and the grants promised by the Government to businesses like ours, are apparently not actually for us, based on a technicality about rate paying. Even though we pay our taxes, as well as our fees to the council. God knows.

When I think about the prospect of losing my business, combined with having two very elderly and vulnerable parents, who I'm in constant fear of them coming into contact with a care worker who's contracted the virus somehow...it all just gets a bit too much. If I let my mind go down that route, I get deeply, deeply sad. I actively try and not think about it. My parents both have respective illnesses which mean phone calls and FaceTiming isn't an option, and they don't have access to email. Instead, I write them a postcard every week with a photo of Nel on the front. I never hear whether or not they have received the postcards, and never know what their reactions to them would be; but I write them anyway so they have that small snippet of news each week. I wish more than anything in the world, that I could visit them, and tell them I love them, and explain to my poor, poor mum (who has extremely advanced Alzheimers Disease) why I can't by there, and why she's not allowed out the house. But she wouldn't understand anyway. I just hope she feels safe, and not too confused. The guilt is just a bit much. But to visit would be the most selfish thing, as my dad's condition would mean he would certainly not survive it.

I just despair but keep reminding myself that I am so lucky that I have my health and my beautiful, happy daughter, as well as my loving and gorgeous husband. Things will get back to normal, and there are definitely people out there suffering far more greatly than I am.

I just wish that bastard never ate a bat.