Shropshire Star

Cathy Stanworth: A long haul but we will get through

Him: “So, would you like to go out to dinner?,” Her: “Thank you for the offer, but not in the current circumstances.” Him: “What about the cinema?” Her: “Still, no thanks, sorry.” Him: “Ice skating, a concert, a weekend away?” Her: “Definitely not!”

Published
Supermarket trolley

A few weeks ago I wrote about my total lack of interest in internet dating on finding myself newly single, and how I had decided to let things happen naturally, if they are ever going to again (which I am starting to think not, as I feel as if I am ageing rapidly by the second, (which scientifically I am, though just not at the rate I am imagining it).

I suppose I might have a chance encounter in the supermarket, library, cafe or at a party hosted by mutual friends, but I am not really all that hopeful, and, to be honest, still not really bothered (you’re no doubt thinking who cares anyway? which I don’t blame you for). I don’t go to the library or cafes, and just perhaps attend the occasional party. I am more of a lady who lunches with friends type of gal at present, with the small talk being a lot more interesting, or happy staying at home, baking a cake, with my cat (how sad, I know, but I still don’t care).

Although I must recall that, yes, I have been chatted up in the supermarket in the past, but when the ‘not-in-a-million-years-mate’ who told me he knew me from work years ago, (I still have no clue who he was) let drop that he wouldn’t pay the price of the supermarket rabbit hutch straw, and that his business was repairing lawn mowers (interest dropping even further!). I politely made my excuses and swiftly kept the wheels of my trolley moving forwards, at speed.

So, back to my point, we now find ourselves in unprecedented times, when, even if you were lucky to find unexpected lurve, to be frank, you are completely screwed when it comes to going on a first date. Sorry, I can’t meet you – firstly because I don’t know if you wash your hands every 20 minutes, and, is the area in which you live, already struck by the Coronavirus, and just how many cases are there? Yes, I have just written the new “C” word, the one word you haven’t heard mentioned for at least 10 seconds during your day.

And now, to put, or hammer the nail into the coffin of my sad love life (again I hear you thinking “who cares?” and again I don’t blame you), I know is find myself, with everyone else, in this terrible virus-struck nightmare situation, with movement restrictions coming in faster than a rat up a drainpipe. I am sat here, writing from home, suffering a little bit of a sore throat, after my one son was sent home from college, after coughing in class. That’s it folks, I’m thinking I’ve got IT, after being brainwashed by over dramatic early morning Good Morning Britain TV viewing, watching the over-the-top presenters work on elevating their careers by the second.

And I can’t believe how some people have behaved, even though we are told the basics – wash your hands, don’t go to public areas etc etc. Apparently for three hours my 17-year-old was in class with a young man who was coughing all over the place. A group of students, including my son, approached the tutor about it. He simply shrugged his shoulders. This person then continued to cough all over the canteen before finally being escorted off the premises, which then led to a number of students who had been ‘in contact’ with him, being sent home for a fortnight.

So now, not just him, but his elder brother (who attends the same college) and myself (as we are living together), are having to “self-isolate”, and I’m the only one feeling a bit rubbish (par of the course of being a parent, to be honest. I feel like I do everything else for them anyway), while they are fine.

And what has come hand-in-hand with the new ‘C’ word is panic buying. Weeks ago, my eldest suggested we buy “a few things”, say rice and pasta. A the time I wasn’t worried, but decided to humour him. We bought these commodities (which are now a distant memory on the supermarket shelves), bottles of water and what looked like a million cans of Heinz soup (I had left that down to him). What I find now is that bread is almost impossible to buy at major supermarkets, and at my corner shop there was nothing, so I grabbed a couple of packets of wraps.

Like most of us, I don’t like this panic buying, and this toilet roll situation is beyond a joke. But you can’t stop people behaving like idiots. They think, others are doing it and so why not me?

A day before College-gate, myself and my son did a final big shop at Morrisons, after I had decided that I would get “just a bit more in” and then shop only at my local, small retailers.

There was a frail, little old lady in front of me, using a three-wheeled walker. She only had a few items to buy, as she couldn’t transport much in that walker. There was a heavy bag of cat littler on the floor that she needed to put on the till belt. I offered to help her, and she said “Yes please”. I felt so embarrassed and disgusted with myself because my trolley was rammed to the hilt. I was thinking ‘Why is she out shopping now at her age?, hasn’t she heard the news from Good Morning Britain (“Be terrified, all of you, especially those most at risk – that means you – the elderly!”) My bill came to £162. I hang my head in shame.

I can only hope that that little old lady hasn’t caught my sore throat, or even worse.

When will it end? Not for a long time we all fear. But we will get through this. With our British bulldog spirit. And remember that famous Churchill quote – “Never Give Up, Never Surrender!”

Sorry, we are not accepting comments on this article.