Coronavirus Chronicles 6

13 April – Day 28

The walk today took me past my barber’s shop. Empty chairs stood in line on a bald floor, opposite faceless mirrors. The familiar closure sign taped to the window. I reflected how timely it had been for me to have my haircut the day after St Patricks Day. The shearing was overdue, but if I’d not got in before lockdown, I would have five more weeks of growth now. Add that to the initial seven weeks and it comes to three months without a haircut. But lockdown is nowhere near over, so furriness will be the new fashion. Maybe we’ll have a hippy revival, but without all the touching this time. Make social distancing- Not war.

Helpful videos have appeared on the internet guiding us to cut our own hair. Trapping it between fingers to set the length, while juggling a comb and household scissors. The result is likely to be poor particularly as hairdressers cut with special thin bladed scissors unlike the ones, we use to cut up our old credit cards.

TV viewers have shown concern for the health of presenters and newsreaders, worried that they didn’t look well. It turns out that the stations have sent some staff home for their safety, including the hair and make up teams. So now those in front of the cameras are doing their own hair and makeup and not looking so good on it.

Folk with more time than usual have created a glut of email jokes and YouTube clips. One I received today predicts that; ‘over the next six weeks, 88% of blondes will disappear from the planet!’ It sounds like John Wyndham’s, ‘Village of the Damned,’ in reverse.

A lot of people can be seen; running, walking and cycling in the suburbs and the green spaces. The sunny weather has promoted the outdoor life. I prefer to go walking to starting another project, it could be that, although prior to lockdown, I blamed the lack of time for not doing jobs, the truth may be, that I didn’t really want to do them anyway.

People are being creative and spreading kindness. I stopped at a bench for a break and found a pebble placed in the centre of the seat. Looking closer, I saw the words, ‘Stay Safe,’ alongside a heart painted on it.

 

 

 

 

 

 

At the post box, a brightly coloured cover had been fixed to the top, covered with a brood of hand knitted Easter Chicks.

On passing the entrance drive to the local church, a lady called from a safe distance. ‘Go in there and have a look at what’s been done.’ I took up the invitation to find that the long driveway had chalk markings on it.
Intricate pictures had been drawn in coloured chalk. Easter scenes from the Bible; including the disciples washing the feet of Jesus. Beneath an appropriate slogan for the present time, ‘Let Jesus wash away your fear.’

 

 

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