Vaccination II

 

For me, today is vaccination day.

Unlike Nigel, my first opportunity to book was via the NHS website and the jab would be delivered at a local pharmacy rather than the louche nightclub surrounds of Batchwood.

A pity – I’d been looking forward to the vaccination-with-glitterball experience.

However, that was a minor detail.  The main thing was to get jabbed, especially as the news this morning mentioned that the vaccination rate was slowing.

All my friends who’d been ‘done’ have said how efficient it was, so I wasn’t anticipating any problems. As an afterthought I stuffed my letter of invitation in my pocket in case I was asked for my NHS number.

When I arrived, many stewards were in view, wearing high vis or toting clipboards, but as far as I could see, I was the only actual punter.

When I said my name, two young women both got me to repeat it, then to spell it. They flicked rapidly through their lists.  I wasn’t there.  My appointment had somehow not registered.   It felt just like a bad dream.  Had I missed the boat?

Panicking I got my letter out and flapped it, wishing now I had also brought the print-out of my appointments. 

Given that I had my letter and that nobody else was waiting, it was decided to give me my jab.  Oxford Astra Zeneca, thank you very much!

One of the staff confided there had been a few cases like mine.

I feel very fortunate to have been vaccinated and only hope that moment of having the rug pulled doesn’t come back as a recurring nightmare.

Snow Fest

 

In the past, I’ve always valued a snow day – one where there has been a deep enough fall to stop traffic and close schools. 

It has meant a lie-in, and the complete slow-down of life. 

Everything we meant to do that day goes by the board.  Might as well take a long walk then bake some bread.

However, this year saw yet another complete inversion of the norms.

On Sunday in St Albans, we had a reasonable fall of snow.

Usually, most people wait until the flakes stop falling before they go out. 

But I thought there might be a lot of people on the paths if we delayed, making it hard to socially distance. 

‘We should go out now, while it’s still snowing!’

So Nigel and I set off to cross the local public playing field. 

It turned out nobody had waited for the snow stop.  There were scores of people and nearly as many snow-people.  Snow fights, snow angels and sledding were all happening.  I don’t think I’ve ever seen it so busy. 

Clearly, in the absence of anything else in the diary, a snow day was no longer a peaceful oasis in the hubbub of everyday life.  Instead, it was the very epitome of excitement.

And it was great to see the everyday outlines of our local neighbourhood transformed.  Due to Covid restrictions we can’t travel to see a different landscape at the moment.  However, it came to find us.