what's on in isolation.qxp_Layout 1 20/03/2020 13:47 Page 1
WHAT’S ON | WE CAN WORK IT OUT
What’s on in isolation
What’s on clearly isn’t on this month. But there’s plenty to do, reports Emma Clegg, who has asked around for ideas on productive, rewarding or long-put-off activities that can be done in our new isolated circumstances. Whether it’s reading War and Peace in Russian or learning semaphore, we’re not short of ideas...
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ho would have thought, just two months ago, that our world landscape would have changed so much? That everything – our work patterns, our commerce, our social and cultural lives, our health management, our hygiene routines, our travel systems, our schools – would either grind to a halt or change in character so suddenly and so dramatically? Scientists are testing for an effective immunisation; stock markets are plunging; economists are predicting outcomes, none of them encouraging; political leaders are making announcements and trying to sound authoritative; health and medical services are preparing for worst case scenarios; and key stage exams are cancelled. Covid-19 2020 will without doubt become a chapter in the history books. But what about us? What about the people who are in the middle of this chapter of history? How will we feature? As those who panic bought toilet rolls? As those who emptied supermarkets of hand sanitiser,
BELOW: Lose yourself in a jigsaw as you watch the news unfold and transcribe family letters, immersing yourself in the news of another era
24 TheBATHMagazine
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april 2020
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issue 211
pasta and baked beans? Is this how we want to be remembered? The thing is that if we are confined to our homes for extended periods, how will we fill the time? Is it possible to turn an enforced period at home into something memorable, something that has value, something that we can remember with pride? Can we demonstrate resourcefulness and creativity and vision in the management of our daily lives just like our ancestors did in the war? I’ve canvased opinion from colleagues, friends and family, and here is a summary of what’s in the pipeline. My French correspondent, also known as my godmother, tells me that France is in day three of nationwide confinement. Everyone needs authorisation to leave their house and can be checked by police with on-the-spot fines if their motives are invalid. She is full of ideas for confinement activities: to sort out her garage, organise the cupboard under the stairs, start a new sculpture and weed the garden. She has already made some fabric masks for her daughter and her husband who are still working as vets. What’s more she is proposing making Japanese sponges out of socks. Basically, you cut all the good bits of the sock (so the bit above the ankle) into loops of about 2cm, weave them together on a frame made with nails, and then crochet the ends together to form a softish sponge that you can use for washing (yourself) or cleaning. And that’s not the least of it – another French citizen, a performance artist, is choosing to dance intensely in an empty graveyard en plein air. With the camera on record, bien sûr. OK, the French are a bit zany, but Naomi Campbell’s no better, taking salt and vinegar baths, drinking celery juice and dancing to pass the time. But what about closer to home? I have received fervent resolutions from those I have asked to (in isolation) take up the trumpet again, play the piano, write a long-planned novel, patch up old jeans, darn socks, cook and bake their way from Bertinet to Ottolenghi and back, and find new ways of wiping their bottom. A colleague sat at the piano for the first time in years this month, and learned Ruby Tuesday. She’s also planning to revive the old Duo Lingo app to brush up on her Spanish – just five minutes a day of this will leave plenty of time for other educational and instructional activities. There are plenty of creative enterprises planned, too, including tambour embroidery, previously attempted but fruitlessly, as said
Eclectic reading and viewing choices include the Russian edition of War and Peace, Bosh! cookbook and Netflix drama Lilyhammer
passer of time had previously worked herself up into a tantrum after failing to thread the needle due to too much wine and a stressful day at work. She says if she settles down with a cup of tea, a podcast, and some patience, she might stand a chance. Another friend plans to finish knitting the jumper that she started in the nineties, which will probably be back in fashion when it’s finished and then it will be winter again… (but will the tension be correct…?) There’s quite a bit of admin planned: to finally clear out the filing cabinet and throw away bank statements from 1986 onwards, to delete the 1,000 plus emails from the inbox, and to sort out old photos into albums or chuck them if you are in them and don’t like your haircut, extra flab or gormless expression. Cupboards will also be emptied of ancient spices, tangled balls of wool, dead spiders and things that would come in handy if only the owner knew they were there. Filing systems will be systematically overhauled so that the finding of a mortgage statement or a doctor’s letter will take place in a matter of seconds. My cousin is planning to help recreate the ancient art of letter writing – and he’s in an excellent position for this as he remembers birthdays, is super thoughtful and has a great taste in cards. His plan is to discover the possibilities of the written word, conveying measured, thoughtful, considered, affectionate emotions and responses, and to aim in the process to take the sting out of immediate, ill thought out and ill tempered responses on social media. He’s the one who’s also planning to immerse himself in jigsaws of Van Gogh countryside, baked beans and Red Square,
