Lockdown Part III continues. I have to say, it’s rather losing its lustre, this whole lockdown business. And I say that as someone who can survive this reasonably unscathed. The main reason is that, as a fireman in the retained service, I have effectively been ‘doing lockdown’ for about fifteen years.
I’m not fishing for sympathy here. As the old gag goes, if you’re looking for sympathy, you’ll find it in the dictionary between shit and syphilis. Or something like that. It’s Sunday, and some folks may be about to sit down for dinner.
The other reason is that, despite being down on income from both jobs, I do still have those jobs, and hopefully both will pick up again as the pandemic loses its grip. And there are supports in place in Ireland, so we can criticise the government all we like (and we do); at least there’s a safety net in place.
So with the third lockdown well and truly in full swing (and I use the term swing advisedly) there’s not a whole lot to do except run (for me), a little bit of gym, and catch up on old music and films.
On the film side of things, nothing pleases the Kenny household more than the four of us sitting in of an evening, watching some classic film (parents’ choice, obviously), or maybe some Japanese anime (kids’ choice, and when I say kids, we are talking about a 22 and a 26 year old). The third option is an agreed choice between all four. And a few nights ago, we watched the first Harry Potter film again.
It is showing its age, without doubt. They didn’t lavish the same expense in terms of special effects on the first punt. Needless to say, by the time we came around to the final fight to the death in the Deathly Hallows, there was no expense spared. Think about the first Star Wars compared to the last one. Apart from that though, it was fun to reacquaint ourselves with old friends. The first book was published back in 1997, and I read it with Dallan when he was just a little nipper. It was our bedtime book. I was a little sceptical of its growing fame, reared as I was on the classics of fantasy (Tolkien, Bradley, Donaldson), and science fiction (Clarke, Asimov, Heinlein) but it soon won me over, and I often found myself reading on ahead when the young lad had nodded off. Which meant re-reading the same couple of chapters again the next night!
Richard Harris was marvellous as the first Dumbledore. The role passed to Micheal Gambon when Harris sadly died (Gambon was also excellent) but I would have enjoyed seeing Harris grow into the role as the films grew in stature. I think we are watching the whole series again over the next few weeks. Fun times. Alohomora. Accio broom. Swish and flick!
The other area of entertainment you can delve into are the old musical archives. For this, Spotify is handy. Personally, my musical background and political leanings would make me inclined to say ‘fuck Spotify’ as it exploits musicians, so I don’t partake. But S does. And the other day we had a serious wander down memory lane with some classics. I would just like to state, for the record, that Love is All Around by Wet Wet Wet really gets on my tits. It’s probably because we had to play it at weddings and other functions, especially when it was a hit in the charts. But hey-ho. Dems de breaks. When you go mining for gold, you have to accept that mostly you’re just digging around in the shit.
In other exciting news, I reminded myself why I hate shopping for shoes online. The runners arrived. I tried them on for a bit. I sent them back. In a shop, that process would take two minutes. And the shower I bought these from make you pay postage to return the items. Cheapskates. So at least that’s one thing I will never have to do again. I blame lockdown. So now I’m back in the loop, waiting for the replacements. It’s filed in the ‘luxury problems’ category.
Apart from that minor glitch, there has been some running. I’ve reverted to type after my run streak in December. Indeed, despite running for less than half the days of January so far, I’ve still clocked up similar mileage. This is down to running longer distances, like 16 and 17 k per run, with breaks of at least a day.
The images above are from a recent run which took in the canal and Castletown Estate. The low winter sun is lovely for pictures. It also exposes dirty windows and floors at home. So, take your pick.
And so, I leave you there, my friends. It’s the end of the weekend, and The Chamber of Secrets awaits. I will also leave you with not one but two images. The first is my lunch. Yes, who the hell is vaguely interested in anyone’s food? Barring The Last Supper, perhaps, food images are rarely that interesting. I’m an art student, and most of that Dutch School oil painting of bowls of fruit are all a bit same, same after a few canvases. This was a homemade pizza. After a run this morning, I knew there were a few slices from the night before hiding out in the fridge, or, em… maybe the microwave… nope… try the oven… no joy.
Then it dawned on my. My lovely son had scoffed them. Once you have told your tired and sweaty body to get ready to accept pizza, you cannot break this covenant. Luckily enough, all the ingredients were there for one more pizza, and so it came to pass the Napolitana with extra everything was born.
And then there is Bonnie. Still lovely. But she didn’t get any pizza. I love her. But I’m not crazy… Best to let sleeping dogs lie. Without pizza. 🙂