I opened last week with the trusty old saying ‘there’s no news like bad news’. This week I can take the same sentiment because there is no news.
Nothing.
Nada.
Nichts.
Yeah, that’s a lie.
Bad News Bears
In fact, there’s a lot going on in the world right now. Britain has taken a further step to right-wing totalitarianism with a ban on any protest causing ‘serious annoyance’ (also known as any protest), there’s the revelation that the number of people living rough on the streets of the country have been woefully under-counted (potentially, by a factor of nine), and eight countries have stopped using the Astrazeneca Covid vaccine due to an admittedly small number of reported blood clots.
Not great news, is it?
But today I wanted to veer away from the murky world of politics, vaccines, and poverty and focus on something more personal and hopefully, a little cheerier. The trouble was what that subject would be. And then it came to me. March madness. That would be the main subject of today’s offering. March madness.
Oh, My Days
To give you a little more context, March is a busy month for the Rankin clan. It is, historically, a month of shopping, cake, family visits, cake, chocolate eggs, cake, and perhaps the odd gallon of tea to wash down all that homemade (not by me) cakey goodness. Yup, March is a busy old month alright. Three family birthdays, including my mum's, my niece's, and my lovely step-daughter’s. The last of whom celebrates her 21st this year. Then there's Mother’s Day and my parent’s wedding anniversary. That’s a lot of days.
Of course I say historically, because this year is, as a necessity, going to be different. The family visits will have to be curtailed somewhat, although one short-ish, mostly distanced, everyone’s had their first vaccine, visit to the folks has already been risked, and, as a result, I got to see one of my sisters, my brother-in-law, and both nieces for what might be the first time in a year.
The shopping trips too will have to be sacrificed. As I’d happily plunge a knife into the still beating heart of that particular pass-time heart any day, pandemic or no pandemic, however, I’m prepared to take a deep breath and bite the bullet on that one.
It’s a sentiment I’ve shared before, and coming from antisocial, INFP me, it might seem a little strange, but each time I come back to how welcome it’s going to be to share time with loved ones, and Saturday’s little visit only reinforced that. I guess we can only wait out Covid and look forward to those halcyon days to come. Until then, we can only dream of parties, presents, and bookmark the celebration for another day.
Just as long as there’s cake.
Until next time…
But today I wanted to veer away from the murky world of politics, vaccines, and poverty and focus on something more personal and hopefully, a little cheerier. The trouble was what that subject would be. And then it came to me. March madness. That would be the main subject of today’s offering. March madness.
Oh, My Days
To give you a little more context, March is a busy month for the Rankin clan. It is, historically, a month of shopping, cake, family visits, cake, chocolate eggs, cake, and perhaps the odd gallon of tea to wash down all that homemade (not by me) cakey goodness. Yup, March is a busy old month alright. Three family birthdays, including my mum's, my niece's, and my lovely step-daughter’s. The last of whom celebrates her 21st this year. Then there's Mother’s Day and my parent’s wedding anniversary. That’s a lot of days.
Of course I say historically, because this year is, as a necessity, going to be different. The family visits will have to be curtailed somewhat, although one short-ish, mostly distanced, everyone’s had their first vaccine, visit to the folks has already been risked, and, as a result, I got to see one of my sisters, my brother-in-law, and both nieces for what might be the first time in a year.
The shopping trips too will have to be sacrificed. As I’d happily plunge a knife into the still beating heart of that particular pass-time heart any day, pandemic or no pandemic, however, I’m prepared to take a deep breath and bite the bullet on that one.
Read All About It!
One slim silver lining of the Coronavirus lockdown is the realisation that most of the family are more than happy to receive a gift card for a popular on-line outlet that definitely has nothing to do with any rainforests. It might mean making a very (very, very) rich man even very richer, but it prevents the risk of the headline ‘5 killed and several injured in shopping centre wheelchair rampage’ hitting the newsstand. I think that’s something we can all be thankful for.
So, two days hence, when my sainted mother celebrates her birthday, she will find an email waiting for her with an e-card to accompany the real-world mother’s day card we took round at the weekend. If she’s lucky, it won’t be the animated cat one I got her at Xmas, which she pretended wouldn’t play. My niece, Holly, will find something similar in her in-box on the 24th, and both will have some pre-arranged credit included for the aforementioned website (no, I’m not telling you how much. You’ll have to wait and find out). The real difficulty will come the day after.
That’s when my step-daughter, Sarah, celebrates her 21st. Now, Sarah has taken social distancing to the extreme by moving to London a whole 2 years before the pandemic struck. It means getting together with her on or around the big day is a virtual impossibility, and a lot of the celebration will have to be done remotely. Of course, being the social butterfly she is, there will be friends, and her boyfriend to help her get entirely too drunk, forget most of the day, and wake up with the hangover from hell (I’m counting on you here, Ben!) and I’m sure she’ll enjoy herself on this most landmarky birthday. From the parent’s point of view, though, it won’t be the same.
Marking Time
Hopefully, this is a bit of a one off (or a two off, counting last year, I suppose). Hopefully next ear sees us back on track and able to navigate the March madness in a more social, celebratory style. Who knows, by that time we might actually be able to all (by which I mean the family. I apologise to any readers I’m not related to) get together for a meal and a few sherberts.
One slim silver lining of the Coronavirus lockdown is the realisation that most of the family are more than happy to receive a gift card for a popular on-line outlet that definitely has nothing to do with any rainforests. It might mean making a very (very, very) rich man even very richer, but it prevents the risk of the headline ‘5 killed and several injured in shopping centre wheelchair rampage’ hitting the newsstand. I think that’s something we can all be thankful for.
So, two days hence, when my sainted mother celebrates her birthday, she will find an email waiting for her with an e-card to accompany the real-world mother’s day card we took round at the weekend. If she’s lucky, it won’t be the animated cat one I got her at Xmas, which she pretended wouldn’t play. My niece, Holly, will find something similar in her in-box on the 24th, and both will have some pre-arranged credit included for the aforementioned website (no, I’m not telling you how much. You’ll have to wait and find out). The real difficulty will come the day after.
That’s when my step-daughter, Sarah, celebrates her 21st. Now, Sarah has taken social distancing to the extreme by moving to London a whole 2 years before the pandemic struck. It means getting together with her on or around the big day is a virtual impossibility, and a lot of the celebration will have to be done remotely. Of course, being the social butterfly she is, there will be friends, and her boyfriend to help her get entirely too drunk, forget most of the day, and wake up with the hangover from hell (I’m counting on you here, Ben!) and I’m sure she’ll enjoy herself on this most landmarky birthday. From the parent’s point of view, though, it won’t be the same.
Marking Time
Hopefully, this is a bit of a one off (or a two off, counting last year, I suppose). Hopefully next ear sees us back on track and able to navigate the March madness in a more social, celebratory style. Who knows, by that time we might actually be able to all (by which I mean the family. I apologise to any readers I’m not related to) get together for a meal and a few sherberts.
It’s a sentiment I’ve shared before, and coming from antisocial, INFP me, it might seem a little strange, but each time I come back to how welcome it’s going to be to share time with loved ones, and Saturday’s little visit only reinforced that. I guess we can only wait out Covid and look forward to those halcyon days to come. Until then, we can only dream of parties, presents, and bookmark the celebration for another day.
Just as long as there’s cake.
Until next time…
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