Lockdown Letters: Part 1

Lockdown Letters- Part 1

At five days in to the new year Britain has turned in to a sea of disposable masks, questionable home schooling and sourdough starters. A coalition has formed between the existing anti-vaxxers and newly emerged anti-maskers. On the basis of no one knowing or caring what local tier they are in, another national Lockdown has been put in to place. Nationwide, adults consider dragging the Christmas Tree back in and cracking open another cheeseboard. The ever isolated vulnerable are weighing up the lesser of two evils; mentally decaying or physical demise.

A lot of the population are hitting a lockdown wall; physically and emotionally drained with isolation, work, childcare and anxiety. My father is not in that bracket. This whole event has played right in to the long game he’s been playing. He has spent decades pickling random ‘edible’ products, hoarding and working an allotment. He even scored a younger wife. He has nurtured creative outlets, albeit some questionable ones, I won’t mention the ceramic birds with female body parts for their necks. Damn I mentioned them didn’t I?  He’s also working on an autobiography. Most importantly, he has yearned for the hermit lifestyle and is embracing it.

Before we launch in to this you should know a few things about my Dad. He has a PhD in biology, will kill no living thing (except mosquitos), cannot make Yorkshire puddings and has his own variety of rhubarb. Yep, he will be immortalised in rhubarb. Well, he would have been immortalised in rhubarb had he named his life work after himself. Instead he named it after an MP whose demise from politics, Dad insists, was nothing to do with having a garden vegetable named in his honour.  

He does not use social media, WhatsApp or video calls. He does use smoke signals, postal letters and emails. The latter is providing some family entertainment so while I’m rocking in a corner wondering what the truck a fronted adverbial is, my Dad is living his best life and may provide some relief from your current reality as well…

From: Dad
Sent: Wednesday, 6 January 2021
To: Family
Subject: Organ donation

Just to let you know. I’ve re-signed up for the NHS to take whatever bits they want after (preferably) I’ve expired for research purposes/organ donation/staff canteen. I’ve indicated that they can inform you, but the decision is mine.

X Dad

From: Big Bro
Sent: Wednesday, 6 January 2021
To: Family
Subject: RE: Organ donation

Oh FFS, we’re going to have to re think the buffet plans at the wake now

From: Dad
Sent: Wednesday, 6 January 2021
To: Family
Subject: RE: RE: Organ donation

I’ll ask them to reserve a leg, plus attachments.