Happy by the fire Lone Veiler on the irritations of Covid and the happiness of autumn logs and blackberrying

Happy by the fire

Lone Veiler on the irritations of Covid and the happiness of autumn logs and blackberrying

Just as you think things are getting back to some semblance of normal, we’re threatened with being back under house arrest again. Not the media’s ‘new’ kind of ‘normal’, an irritating soundbite which means absolutely nothing, but is calculated to raise anxiety levels - after all, what does ‘new normal’ mean? What will it involve? Permanent isolation from family? Permanent muzzlement? Children’s parties permanently cancelled? Churches once again mothballed? You might have noticed that I don’t do well under arbitrary rules and regulations. I’m not one to blindly follow because the government health triumvirate says something. I prefer to weigh evidence from different sources, especially when the consequences of any government decision can be so appalling to those under them. Then, having weighed, I write to my MP. Who does not reply.

To any agnostic or atheists of my acquaintance, my railing against what some of them perceive to be perfectly reasonable lockdown rules comes as quite a surprise. After all, I’m Catholic! So many rules, regulations, restrictions! It seems illogical that I wouldn’t wish to follow government regulations as willingly as I do Catholic ones, and I can see where they are coming from. From the outside it might appear that I’m a religious door mat, I do all the doormatty things. I wear what I now call my antibac-tilla, my trusty veil, which now becomes a face covering when looped appropriately, but only if absolutely necessary. I say odd things about an oldfashioned concept called sin. I seem to flip flop between feasting and fasting all year round, and don’t just ‘do’ Christmas from December 1 to 25. Yes, their confusion might be understandable, but for me and any other Catholic, our core beliefs do not -should not - change with every vacillating government diktat, and nor should our Church leaders blindly follow them. We have been lucky; our priests, who shall remain anonymous for obvious reasons, have been great, and frankly, put the hierarchy to shame.

The thing is, since this virus arrived, the government and media have treated it as the only thing that can ever kill us, as if we were actually all immortal before it appeared. Project Fear has done its work, and Satan is rubbing his hands with glee. The greatest tragedy in all this apart from the destruction of normal family interaction over the past months, has been how little of the faith has been shown by our leaders who seem to have bought in to the government’s secularism. It would have been nice to have had something from them other than church closures and platitudes, and instructions on hand sanitising. Even now that some churches are open, there has, at the time of writing, been no encouragement to return to the sacraments, no evidence of belief from on high, so no witness to the country that actually, even Covid is not the end; we are more than a desperate attempt to prolong life at the expense of all human interaction and everything else.

I try to find out what lessons I am being taught in my life by the Lord when the unthinkable happens; Covid, I think, fits the bill at the moment. Two things jump out at me; the first is that if something doesn’t make sense, fit the data, is being manipulated towards a pre-determined outcome, or prevents me from assisting at Mass, I get mad. The second is I really have to work on my patience.

Grumpy

Have there been any positives since the last grumpy veiler? Well, as usual, it’s always the little things: the blackberrying was good this Autumn. Many crumbles and pies have been made. Michaelmas was wet and windy, but also good. The ash trees around us are dying and being felled which isn’t good. But the weather is cooler, so I can wear my boots, which is good. Don’t know about the rest of you ladies, but I tried some shoes on recently and was shocked that I ever wore those heels, let alone walked in them. Not that that will stop me wearing them, but I was surprised how uncomfortable they were. Then of course, best of all, was sorting out the log store after the log delivery arrived. Oh, joyous day! Of all the things I have been blessed with, our log fire is the business. If I can have a real fire, like we had when I was a child,

'The greatest tragedy in all this, apart from the destruction of normal family interaction over the past months, has been how little of the faith has been shown by our leaders...'

I am happy. Having lived previously in an all-electric home that was frequently without electricity, once for ten days and nights one winter, my most fervent desire was to never be in that situation again. We may have gas and electricity cuts in the future, we may be irrationally isolated from our loved ones against our will, forbidden the Holy Mass, the PM might just do an Olly Cromwell and ban (secular) Christmas, but as long as there is my rosary and a fire to say it by, it’s all do-able.