Pandemic. Not a word I thought I would be writing in 2020 - nor indeed one you perhaps thought you would be reading either. A word from a bygone era, it has catapulted us into a world of Big Government, economic inertia and community driven enterprise. After an initial, highly commendable explosion of positivity and enthusiasm, many I speak with now are feeling this energy wane as the weight of uncertainty over the short, medium and longterm human reality becomes all consuming. The difficulties in working from home - or indeed, lack of difficulty for some - are well reported, as are the problems in delivery of food supplies, PPE and the subject of our children's education. Concerns about shielding the vulnerable, supporting key workers, flattening the curve have all been well scrutinised and reported. What I am increasingly aware of however, and which almost no one is talking about - is the impact of lockdown on women of a certain age. More specifically the stay at home mums; the middle aged women who were quietly breaking free from the confines of the home and starting to spread their wings.
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| Photo by Edgar Hernández on Unsplash |
I've joked on social media that I've "levelled up" on the domestic front and will soon be at "Abigail's Party" level, although I'm not sure if that's serving amazing canapés or quietly drinking gin in the corner...... but I was neither incapable before, nor lazy. I've spent years catering for exclusion diets, reinventing the wheel, cooking for a large family and supporting my parents. We can only self cater when we go away and I only have a cleaner because of a severe dust allergy - without her the house is spotless even if I do have a permanent sniff.
It's just that I want more.
