Saturday May 2nd. We should have been hosting a fortieth birthday party in the Barn today – one of the many recent casualties. In the afternoon the birthday boy delivered two boxes of assorted cupcakes, four in each, for us all to share. We spoke through the open conservatory windows about how he was spending his lockdown birthday, and how he’d planned to spend it. We were touched by his lovely gesture.
The cupcake boxes were made of lightweight smooth card with a kind of rainbow band around each. We’d just been folding pizza boxes – a brief contribution to the takeaway evening – the second such event since mid-March. Making up boxes is a soothing, repetitive activity, as was also the planting of potatoes later in the afternoon.
Each potato planting pot comprised two tyres filled with earth. We put them against the fence, beyond the end of the farmyard, between the donkey stable and the double decker bus. Orla, our helper, gave each potato a name as it was placed into its ready-made hole. This was a much overdue task and a lot of the potatoes had started to look like human heads with faces and hair. Some we called ‘mad scientists’. One in particular bore more than a passing resemblance to Groucho Marx.
A close friend’s daughter has encouraged her to learn to knit. My friend’s been following an online tutorial and can now do both plain and purl stitches. She’s finding it to be relaxing, almost meditative. And of course it helps to pass the time. The multi-coloured scarf she’s knitting could prove to be a record-breaker, as she’s not yet learned how to cast off.