Anne is my Reflexologist. I have known her nearly two years, since I moved to Nottingham. It is she who pummels my feet and keeps me going for a week or two. As I lay on the couch, with pummelled feet, I often ask myself “Why am I paying for so much pain?”. But when she goes on holiday, and I miss several sessions, I know the answer. My back, neck, shoulder, side pains and headaches are so much worse when I haven’t been put back in balance.
Anne is funny, scatty and caring; she’s the sort of person who would do anything for anyone in need.
Anne has an active life with her business, family, friends, choir, garden……… I thought that Life Under Lockdown must be difficult for Anne so I invited her to write an article for ‘We’re all in this together’. I hadn’t realised quite how difficult it was. Anne’s Story is in three parts, on consecutive days. Here is Part 1:
“🤔Firstly, to begin with the negative part, the stressful lead up to this isolation.
We were in France in March 2020, in our sunny, cosy, peaceful village in rural Brittany. After an anxious warning from our eldest daughter that ferries were stopping running, we rang Brittany Ferries. They never warned us; we weren’t meant to leave for another three days. They just said the last ferries were leaving today and they were booked up.
Our only chance before the French lockdown was to leave immediately by the Channel Tunnel. SO, sadly, and in shock, we threw clothes, and any bits we could think of, into the car to get to the Tunnel. Our last slot in 6 hours, with a 5 hour journey to make it, ahead. There we were fleeing from our safe haven, our ‘bubble’ we had been in, leaving our plan of finally finishing our project of 18 years renovation behind abruptly. By the time we return, I expect it will look like the cottage in Hansel and Gretel, without the sweets attached, of course, but deeply surrounded by a forest, with dubious things lurking inside, Having not got a chance to clean up or mow before we left.
When back in England, the changes, since our time away, became apparent. Due to my husband having a dry cough before he went (because he sanded wood without a mask) he was meant to go back to the doctor’s but they just said we should self isolate for two weeks in case it was the virus. We were happy to comply, and with our daughter being pregnant itwas sensible; but sad not to be able to hug them, or see our two year old grandson, who we normally saw most days of the week before we went.
Our youngest daughter, meanwhile, was in Thailand with her husband’s family. They had gone before any real problems developed here. They, too, were in a ‘bubble’ on their tiny island. As our fears grew about them getting back safe, they assured us no one was worried, or talked about it, there. It was just paranoid Mum/Mother-in-law being overly worried. Towards the end, they got the message and were fortunately on the last plane to leave their sleepy island. Aghast at the next airport to find hundreds of mask-wearing, frightened passengers who had had flights cancelled. However, they did eventually get a flight, arriving in London 25 minutes before ‘lockdown’, with a record passage through Heathrow from landing to in a taxi home, in 20 minutes.
SO, for me a few pounds lost in weight, and several strands of hair lost, all back on English terrafirma, we could all now relax. Or so it seemed…..
Relax, oh yes! Plenty of that. My husband, Steve, is on Cloud 9; he thinks this is how retirement was meant to be. Getting up in the morning, having a cuppa, reading the paper, maybe doing the crossword, then planning to do a job and actually being able to finish it! Well, he’s definately got the ‘Man Cave’ thing down to a tee. Whether you’ve read ‘Men are from Mars, Women are from Venus’, you can be assured this is his ‘Den’. From within which he can sulk, ignore, avoid confrontation and work out solutions. He can adapt, mend, recycle and build. Find peace and tranquility, maybe even meditate, who knows. He operates it to the required 2 metre distancing rule, at least, plenty of social distancing. I have to knock before entering, in case I startle the fish (over flow of baby fish that might be eaten from the pond) in a tank he has in there. I’m quite sure if he could get it delivered by Amazon, he would fit a fingerprint entry system by the door. He’s swept, tidied, built shelves, a bench, put lights up and taken the radio in. He has found his Kingdom. This is his perfect idea of self isolation. I’ve even had the odd phone call, welcoming me to visit with a cup of tea for us both.
Me, on the other hand, has found solace in gardening”.
Thank you, Anne, for Part 1 of your story; can’t wait for Part 2.
The tea towel is one given to me by Pete and Pauline from their mother’s collection; seemed appropriate for the speedy return from France!