Crisis blogger Tonnie

My fourth and final blog in the latest IkPas newsletter. And that still in a special period. I thought that my participation in IkPas would bring about a lot; The coronavirus gave completely different insights on top of that.

The sneakers that I bought as a present for myself on day 10 of IkPas in a euphoric mood of moderate alcohollessness (see blog 1), are still shining bright white in the closet. Because: where am I going? COVID-19 has drastically reduced my social life to a single visit to the park in front of the door and the glass container around the corner. Where I now go very rarely given my excessive decrease in wine consumption. Read: complete (hurrah!).

Now I belong to the so-called 'vulnerable target group' due to certain drug use. I can tell you; then you won't be able to leave your balcony at all. The bond with my parcel deliverer has taken on such proportions that he no longer asks for my ID where it actually has to be, the children curious about the mystery 'parcel man' wanted to know everything about Ramadan I spoke to the man about and I recently gave him a package as a thank you for climbing and descending my porch stairs every time. Of course I mean a present from me to him. Not that you think I pushed my ordered package back into his hands.

Because what should the best man with a ladyshave do? One of my purchases that I started on at the age of 38, with a surplus of time and lack of utility and need for perfectly trimmed legs. Practice makes perfect; in the summer of 2021 I will undoubtedly be shining clean-shaven between all my social contacts. Without ripped open skin due to burning and incorrect use of so-called heads.

In short: it is a strange time, the spring of 2020. It presents limitations and it offers opportunities. In my second blog I wrote about all those things we think we need to do that might not necessarily need to NOW. Or vice versa – as in the lady shave case – things we couldn't do otherwise, which we can now do. Where before the corona era I had the gift of having any random plant mutate into a dried up cactus, now every species is perfectly growing and blooming. Something similar happened with my children. Not that I let it dry up before, but the peace and attention with which I now happily endure a full game of StarWars monopoly can be called miraculous. And that includes bickering about just the question of who will play with which doll and without the inclination to have to pull the cork from the bottle, to add some entertainment for the mom. At the same time, I realize that I still cannot get my Jan Steen-inspired household in order. Some things just stay the way they were.

I am aware of; it's not all roses and vodka lime (I know, bad joke). And I regularly think of those who are in misery because of, for example, declining income, bankruptcy of their own company, illness and death among family and friends. That is not something to sit down and write roguish blogs about, with sometimes nonsensical examples and bad jokes. That is the reality of many people. But I do trust that we are strong together. And that everyone, left or right, can eventually get something beautiful out of it. No rainbow without rain. That principle. Even if it is just something very small, unexpected.

Hang in there, drink a good cup of coffee (or tea) every now and then, put the boss on 'mute' once, buy overpriced sneakers, let your hairy legs flutter in the garden or on the balcony, don't confuse facts with opinions ( and vice versa), hug your plants, break a leg (or rather not, see blog 3) and pay attention to each other.