So here we are in the last week of February, and yesterday Boris Johnson shared his ‘roadmap out of lockdown‘. I didn’t watch it because the mere sight of his ridiculous hair and his blundering incompetence give me a burning rage like I’ve never experienced, but essentially this is it, simplified:
Whether or not we reach ‘step four’ by June is anybody’s guess, but the biggest news for a lot of reluctantly homeschooling parents is definitely step one:
Schools are opening to all pupils on 8th March.
This is just two weeks away – and, something which gave me pause for thought – almost one year to the day since we all became aware of Coronavirus, albeit with no concept of how deeply it would impact our lives.
Looking back, it is clear that the government downplayed the impending pandemic – or perhaps they were just too stupid and/or jingoistic to believe it could affect us in good old Blighty, after all we survived blitz, Great British Stiff Upper Lip etc etc – to the point where I felt safe to go on holiday, packed onto a plane sharing recirculated air with hundreds of strangers, flying to a resort playing host to travellers from around the globe.
I had no idea what would be waiting for me when I returned.
Empty supermarket shelves, panic and school closures.
In the short term, it was a bit of an adventure I suppose. Being stuck in with everywhere closed sucked, the virus was unknown and scary, but it was new and novel to a degree, we were all in it together and the weather was at least quite good.
And then it dragged on, and on, and on. And on.
Yes there was the odd glimmer of hope when we were allowed to get our hair done, encouraged – nay, bribed – to go out (before being told we probably shouldn’t have gone out) and were allowed back in the shops.
Then the tier system pissed all over us, and Christmas was unceremoniously cancelled at the last minute which did wonders for the mental health of many. Since then we’ve all been sat inside, in the cold, watching it go dark at 3pm with nothing to do for two months.
I am definitely ready for a change.
Hairwise, but the schools too. OK, it’s fair to say that the first attempt to get kids back to school in September didn’t really go so well, what with the huge peak in cases which followed not long after including within this very household, where we caught the rona within the first damn fortnight.
This time I’m a little more optimistic, not only because I have to be or I won’t cope, but because we’re coming into spring and everything seems better in the spring doesn’t it?
Oh, and the vaccine roll out seems to be going really well, so there is that too.
Thanks science, you magnificent bastard. And of course thank you to the NHS who seem to be doing a good job – who’d have thought they’d be better than, say, one of Matt Hancock’s ‘mates’? Astounding, isn’t it. Shame the government haven’t seen fit to vaccinate teachers as a priority, but that’s a rant for another time.
Anyway, after the last year I have learned not to make assumptions, so I’m just going to be quietly and cautiously hopeful and ps if you need me on the 8th March I’ll be sitting in silence, or maybe I’ll be drunk in a park. Haven’t decided yet.