Covid 19 in Spain

Eight weeks and still counting

As predicted, the Spanish parliament declared yesterday this national emergency lockdown will continue another two weeks. For safety´s sake we think it´s for the best, and proves that those in power consider people´s lives are more important than the economy.

However, I´ve noticed staying sane is a whole other thing. I wrote somewhere about how we used to converse about which TV series we´re each binging. It provided plenty of content to cross off the personal “must see” list. Call it reverse boredom while still being bored, and pretending not to be.

Today I realised how eight weeks being locked up has affected personal relationships between three people in the same household. It´s evolved. (And now there´s another 14 days to add to that).

  1. Week one was mainly about the good times we had in the olden times with ref to last week. This kind of conversation may have lasted two weeks and consisted mostly about gossip.
  2. Week whatever, as described above was the promote your own Netflix series to the others who aren´t interested at all phase. Focusing on your own one is far superior.   
  3. Week whatever, mini arguments began to occur as to who WANTED to do the shopping. In the before times when shopping was a crappy experience, there was always a reward afterwards. We´d call in at our local bar for a drink, and sit in the sunshine to recover. More often than not this would end up as a spontaneous meet and greet with friends. Ah those were the days. Now shopping is a day trip out on it´s own, even without a bar to go to or friends to see.  “It´s MY turn.”
  4. Most recent week whatever it is. Mosquito bites have become an Olympic event, but not in the normal way. There´s a competition thing going on as to who´s got the biggest, worst, how much it itches, and which cream to use. Then there´s the inevitable,, where did that happen? No-one ever has a precise answer, but it still has to be asked in case certain areas of the house or garden need to be cordoned off.

Here´s one of particular interest, a bite that went through to my knuckle bone. I must´ve scratched it in my sleep, and now it´s got a crust on top. It won the award for “most versatile” in last night´s competition briefing.

IMG_20200508_175626_122

Oh, and there´s a scientific fact we´ve discovered, different kinds of farts can communicate with each other. I kid ye not, at first hubby and son owned mornings, while my own talent let itself blow in the evening. Now we all fart together in the afternoon, it´s a much better arrangement, the conversation blows.

In other much more important news my hair is now two different colours, the top third resembles mouse fur, and the rest is still proper blonde. Who knows? It could become the new vogue, us women are all in the same pickle. When I´m eventually allowed out, I´ll be wearing a cap or a versatile facemask up top. 

Meanwhile, remember I told you we´d been invited to a grand pub re-opening (on the 11th) which for obvious reasons we didn´t really want to go to? Well these extra two weeks of imprisonment have put the mockers on that, they have to remain closed. Phew. Would´ve been nice under normal circumstances. But the “new normal” dictates only 30% of capacity, facemasks, social distancing, and they´ve already had to tip all their beer away..

Imagine what a lunatic situation that would be:

“Hi dear friends, nice to see you” then take a step back, virtual “mwah mwah” no peck on the cheek Spanish style anymore. “How are you? Ok? Good, we´ll be sat over there.” The huge insecurity of wearing a facemask with a hole the size of a straw is another problem. 

To be fair table service would be a bonus when you can´t go inside to the bar, so are they going to hire a portaloo, for necessaries? Perhaps us women are supposed to squat down for a pee in the empty road. No-one must feel the need to go through all this unless they´re bonkers.

Must admit, we thought the place was being a bit previous with “not a real party time, but it´s the best we can do so fake it,” offered just before the next big “lockdown or not decree.” Hope must be eternal.

Turns out there ain´t no May 11th end date, we haven´t finished with this one before the next one yet.. Happy Christmas everyone.

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