I am finding compensations in self isolation
Finishing up old supplies.
I will finally get around to using the food at the back of my freezer and the tins behind the dog treats in the food cupboard.
I am discovering things I’d long forgotten I bought.
Until recently, I was taking an older friend shopping every week. Through her life, she had struggled to bring up children and grandchildren through hard times and was still keen on a bargain. To her regret, she often had to pass them by as her freezer was already full. She was keen though that I didn’t miss them.
While I searched out items on my shopping list, she would call my attention to this week’s BOGOFF or half price roasting joint (for when the children visit) or three-for-the-price-of-two bargain. At that price, you can’t leave it on the shelves, can you?
Sadly, my friend is no longer with us, but she would have hated self-isolation. In her opinion she was isolated enough, even though friends visited her most days.
When it comes to food shopping, I have a touch of siege mentality, developed through the years when I was feeding four teenagers and their friends in school holidays (while I was out of the house, at work). I never knew for sure who would be joining us for Sunday lunch.
I instructed my children, when using the last-but-one tin of beans or container of frozen bolognese, to add the item to the shopping list so that I knew to buy – or cook – more. (This also gave me leeway to discover the shortage for myself when they forgot to let me know.)
I still work on a keep-one-in-hand basis for storable items, so I figured I could afford to wait for the panic buying to calm down before I went shopping. After all, people only have so much space for hoarding. . .
I may have been over-optimistic.
I have a food delivery coming next week (booked last week). It will be interesting to see how much of my order arrives. I am unable to book another for a fortnight hence, as all delivery slots at supermarkets in our area are fully booked for the reservable future (three weeks).
Meanwhile, I’m working my way to the back of the freezer.
Not wearing make-up
I confess, I gave up daily make-up after I retired. I apply a little for events, but lightly; make-up-clogged wrinkles isn’t an attractive look.
I once believed mascara would be the last item of make-up I would abandon. But it feels so good to rub when eyes are tired or itchy without scritching with fingernails between eyelashes or worrying about panda eyes.
(Although we’re now not supposed to touch our faces at all. That’s a new trick this old dog has trouble remembering.)
Mascara is now one of the last items I resort to when socialising.
Not wearing a watch
I also gave up wearing a watch when I retired, except when leaving home (if I remember). Now, with no meetings or appointments to be late for, my watch sits abandoned in my bedroom.
I eat when I’m hungry, not when the clock says it’s mealtime. This isn’t as often as I expected, and I’m losing weight. True, it’s a very slow reduction, but it appears I will have months of self-isolation in which to drop my jeans size. (That is, to get into those pairs pushed to the back of the wardrobe.)
And who knows when another delivery slot will be available to replenish food supplies?