Last year I did lockdown with the twins, who were refugees from Otago University.
This time round we have our oldest and her partner, who have flown half way round the world to escape constantly oscillating lockdown levels in Ontario, Canada, just in time to go into lockdown with us. They had a couple of weeks of catching up with friends, and looking for work and accommodation before this latest wave hit – I suspect a final chance to experience the fool’s paradise we’ve all been living in over the past year. I don’t think things will ever go back to the way they were. Unfortunately, they haven’t yet been visited by the housing fairy, and have adapted back into lockdown like the seasoned campaigners they are – sleeping in, watching daytime TV, leisure wear, and not panicking. It’s very calming. I had to introduce them to the ritual of the 1pm briefing, though. They were very impressed with the Ashley and Jacinda show. It turns out Justin Trudeau, for all his boyish good looks, has nowhere near the stage presence and delivery of our Jacinda. I just hope the “team of five million” can keep up their good behaviour for as long as it takes this time round.
On the subject of leisure wear, I have surprisingly easily got back into the habit of fat pants and ratty old sweatshirt. In contrast, my husband has no schlepping clothes at all. Jeans, button down shirt, and even smart leather shoes is his lockdown ensemble. It’s a mystery to me. Letting yourself go is honestly the best part of lockdown.