Having suffered a mega attack of the gloomies due to facing Christmas under the restrictions, then we all have to face yet another lockdown period until mid-January when all we are promised is a revue, a fit of Gloomies is not surprising. As somebody who is usually bursting with bright ideas for my love of writing and reading lots of poetry, it is not at all nice, when out of the blue, I had a dreadful nightmare that I could not shake off even after thought that I had woken up but with such a start, believing that my dream was fact.
My dream was, that I had suddenly thought that the way I was feeling was more than likely an indication that I had contracted the deadly virus. Leaping out of bed awake, but having not stepped away from the dream, I began sniffing with all my might and waggling my tongue wildly because I was sure that I had lost my sense of smell and also taste. One of the symptoms that interviewees had described on TV and radio. Without putting on any lights, I had darted out of the room barefoot and bare bottomed (I sleep in a rash vest or a tee shirt without jammy pants). I almost ran into the kitchen, where I opened the fridge and then the cupboards and began to frantically start opening jars, bottles, and packets, lowering my head and trying to smell them. I was sure that it was true, I couldn’t smell anything. I opened all the tea packets and tins; Rooibos… nothing. Dilmah’s Valley of the Kings, sniff, sniff…. Nothing. My best Earl Grey, even the Turmeric tea that friends had given me, sniff sniff…. Nothing. I stopped stock still for a moment and thought; what was the best food stuff smell I could think of. A moment passed then I turned to a low cupboard the other side, where spare items not yet needed were kept. A new jar of my favourite coffee, that would be it. I searched for and found a new jar Clipper, Papua New Guinea rich roast single origin arabica coffee. Using all my strength I undid to new screw top, opening the cutlery drawer, I grabbed a small knife and stabbed violently at the gold paper seal, I tore the sealing paper all off and stuck my nose toward the pot but still I smelled nothing. I was horrified. How could I have caught the damn bug, when I had been isolated for ten months not meeting any of my sports friends, not having hugged a soul, running in the earliest hours in the woods to stay away from crowds. My heart sank and I thought that I would never get back to sleep even if I returned to bed. I sighed a huge sigh and realised that I did feel very tired but my heart was racing still. I poured some milk into a cup at popped it into the microwave for while then added some chocolate powder and a big slug of Grand Marnier and stirred vigorously.
I opened another cupboard and took out a couple of Rich Tea biscuits I was talking to my little cat Birdy while I made my drink and dipped a biscuit in the hot chocolate until it was soggy-ish, then popped the biscuit into my mouth and bit the soggy side off. MMMMMM, hot chocolate with Grand Marnier and a dunking biscuit and did it taste good? MMMM… MMM. I smiled at the cat picked up the cup and another couple of biscuits and returned to bed. I recited the 23 Psalm in my head, which is one of the things that I have done at bedtime since I was a child, I sipped the lovely warming comforting drink. Turned the light out and went to sleep.
The nightmare scenario had not woken Steve; nothing does. He woke up before me in the morning and went out to turn on the coffee machine. When I walked into the kitchen, he asked me what on earth had gone on there, since all the jars and tins were still littered everywhere. I told him about my dreadful dream and he laughed his head off as he started to tidy up the mess I had made.
Steve doesn’t worry about anything very much and so he is very good for me since I am a world class worry-guts.
This morning we went out together just for a walk, we both have tight muscles right now but luckily it is still a long time to a point in this strange time until there is even an outside chance of travelling somewhere to have a race holiday.
All things must pass and even though it seems as though this life will never be normal again; it will slowly creep that way once the vaccine helps to restore us to a more resilient state once more.
As we walked by the river and along the moat path, we saw the swan family there preening themselves and Steve took some nice photos of the almost full-grown swans that were tiny cute little cygnets in the spring and true to the story by Hans Christian Anderson they are almost fully white now with small beige patches. Life has not changed so much for them as it has for us this year but they have got through it until they are looking almost as lovely as their parents and I believe that the outlook will slowly improve for the rest of us. Eventually. We will overcome.
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