A Good Day for Making Masks

It's raining. Steadily.  And the drainpipe is  gurgling happily into the water butt.

I'm grateful.  The small tomato plants in the raised bed were beginning to look at me reproachfully, even though I'd given each of them their own empty sunken flowerpot as a way of capturing and directing water to their roots.  Given that the vegetable beds on top of the sandstone ridge slope down towards the cottage it seemed a good way of keeping the water in the beds rather than running off the surface.  We'll see.

Monday is the start of easing lockdown.  It will be good to be able to leave the house without having to fill in an attestation each time, provided we stay within 100 kms.  In fact we've tended to keep the same bit of paper - one for the shopping, one for walking the dogs and one for a visit to the vets - and we've just crossed out the old date and time and put in the new one.  Not that we've ever had to show it.

Otherwise, our lives won't change much.  Driving to the canal so that we can give Vita a gentle walk along the towpath is an appealing thought. (She remains frail after getting, twice, what seems remarkably like COVID-19, even though dogs aren't supposed to.) But then we have concerns that everyone else will have the same idea.

Tod badly needs a trip to the barber - the "wife cutting hair" experience never having been repeated - but then he hesitates at the degree to which his barber will be able to control social distancing and hygiene.  Maybe a trip to my hairdresser within Leclerc (at three times the price) is a better option?  As a large chain there is more at stake for them to get it right.

The sit-on mower needs a service. So a trip to the young man with his own business is now possible and Tod's booked it in for Monday.  I worry the young man will not be using a mask or frequently washing his hands - few men of that age show any signs of concern - and anxiously ask Tod to keep his distance.  Even "distance" in France is a dubious concept. The recommendation is "at least one meter".  That's barely further than any self-respecting Anglo-Saxon would stand anyway.  Two meters would be preferable.

So we will continue to wear masks. At least we will be doing our best to protect others.  They are still not mandatory, except on public transport - much to my frustration - and only about a third of those out shopping are wearing them.

From the online forums, it seems that some communes are doing an excellent job getting masks to their inhabitants. Usually this has required the "old" mayor and his team to step up to the mark, the lockdown having prevented the recently elected ones from taking up their roles. Not much sign of activity here though.

So, I'm adding to the builders masks which we are already using and Tod finds uncomfortable.  He now has a snazzy blue striped one made from the material that I bought what, two years ago, to cover our poolside lounger cushions.  Fabric that I belatedly discovered shrank after I'd cut out the pattern and anyway was much too floppy.  Pretty, but impractical.  Makes a good mask though.  And I've enough material to supply the whole village. With the rain due to stay with us for these two days, this seems like a good moment to get to the sewing machine.

An interesting article that will become our road map for behaviour over these coming weeks:
COVID-19: The Risks and How to Avoid Them