It suddenly occurred to me yesterday that one day, if and when we finally emerge from these Covid times, we may begin to think of our lives in terms of "before Covid" and "after Covid". I suspect that I will, anyway. Who ever suspected that we would become au fait with different strains, R rates and the ways people had approached this menacing virus all around the world? Or that we would be cut off from our fellow humans in such strange ways, and for such a long time? Instead of time speeding past as it usually does, it seemed to drag by and it felt as though we were wading through quicksand sometimes. We would look forward to the weekends, but when they came they were just the same as all the other weekends and we soon ran out of enthusiasm for turning out cupboards and other tedious and virtuous tasks. I have been physically at work throughout the pandemic so far, but Mr Shoestring has been working from home and it seems that the effects on the way we lead our lives and conduct our businesses will be significant and long lasting
This weekend we have emerged from a long time confined to our city. I think it was approximately 122 days, but who's counting? We, living in Auckland, were at the epicentre of the outbreak in New Zealand and so not allowed to "cross the border" (doesn't that sound like something out of a novel?) and go to Shoestring Cottage until now. The weather wasn't great for our first trip in such a long time, but typical Auckland/Waikato spring weather with a lowering sky and humid rain threatening.
How we missed it. We were so fortunate that Mr and Mrs Peaceable came and fed our fish, and watered the plants, and generally kept an eye on things for us, and also that one of our daughters, who lives "outside the border" was able to come and mow the lawns once, because otherwise they would have been completely wild. As it was, the garden was completely overgrown and weed infested when we arrived here again, but it was so good to be back.
On the plus side though it looks as though the grapes will give a bumper crop (for the birds) this year
and the lilies haven't all finished blooming yet, there are still quite a few spikes to come.
The birds looked askance at us, as though we had invaded their own domain, and I noticed that instead of a thrush having one special place for cracking open snail shells, there were snail shells dotted all around the areas where there was a brick or stone to use as an opening tool. I was so sad that we had missed the flowering of the roses (apparently this year was a bumper season for them), and also the irises and spring bulbs and most of the lilies, but we have to be optimistic and remember that there is always next year to look forward to; that's part of the territory when you are a gardener, you need to be prepared for a lot of unforeseen knock-backs and for things not to work out quite as you had planned.
During the lockdown Mr Shoestring and I fell into the habit of visiting a nearby park every evening on the way home to get a bit of air ("spreading our legs" as our Minister of Health once mistakenly put it in a press conference, a thing he will never be allowed to forget, I feel sure), and we fell in love with the pigeons there. We began to take food for them with us every day, and sat on our special seat to feed them. (We were quite aggrieved if we came to the park to find somebody else on our seat but tried to bear the disappointment with good grace and not glare at the interlopers.) Within a few days they began to expect us and would come down in a huge flock, the susurration of their wings a delight albeit a bit alarming to begin with. I was so fascinated by their varied plumage, their strange orange little eyes (though not all were orange, you would be surprised how many different colours their eyes can be) and the different personalities we could identify in certain birds. It was the highlight of my lockdown life for a while there. I sent off for a couple of books about pigeons so as to learn more about these delightful and amazing creatures and was saddened to read that it is a bad thing to feed them. We did stop feeding them, but it was a wrench, I must say.
Now that we are allowed back to shoestring cottage I was so pleased to see a related pigeon sort of a bird in the back garden this morning. I haven't identified it yet (actually there was a pair of them), but I feel honoured that they have graced us with their presence.
As soon as we were allowed to go to shops again Mr Shoestring and I trawled through our favourite op shops and visited some new ones as well. There were so many treasures there, or perhaps we were just starved for them. You might notice a certain bird theme emerging in the things I found and this is my pride and joy. Not one, but four images of birds, and all of them different.
I saw it one weekend but thought it was far to spenny, then spent the following week agonising over whether it would still be there if I managed to go back again the next weekend. Thankfully it was; even though we had to queue to enter the op shop because of Covid social distancing rules, I wasn't going to let it slip through my fingers a second time. It seemed to suit this one, another which I spotted as soon as I was set free to prowl about the op shops after lockdown.
Also I found this charming little dish,
very similar to another one I bought a long time ago.
I figured it was by the same maker, but when I put the two together it turns out that though similar, they are not the same birds, and are not by the same makers. Then this morning while at another op shop I found this beautiful print of a thrush, which I was so excited by.
And a souvenir little dish (probably an ashtray, I'm thinking) of heavenly Marine Parade in Napier, the scene of so many of our Art Deco festivals. (We have booked to attend in February 2022 but it seems as though it may be cancelled again, so sad.).
Our best op shop find after we were allowed "out" again was this shelving unit for the apartment, Mr Shoestring spotted it and refurbished it by repainting the metal parts and oiling the wooden planks. It is ideal for the apartment because the shelves are narrow, and don't take up too much space. $35 well spent, for sure.
Whenever I go to an art gallery, garden or museum, or visit a new city or even country (looks like that will not be happening again, so pleased that we made the most of our chances), I am ashamed to say that I am just a sucker for the merch. Never mind the pictures, take me to the souvenir shop. I'm a cultural desert really, masquerading as an interested observer of culture. I had collected quite a few souvenir tea towels on our travels which I was too frightened to use. (Mr Shoestring and I have ongoing battles over how tea towels should be used; he seems to feel that they are best employed in the most messy, oily and stain-producing ventures.). Once we got to the cottage this weekend I decided to make some of them into cushions and I am so pleased with the way they have turned out.
If you have a similar stash of souvenir tea towels (or if you are lucky enough to have some vintage ones still in pristine condition), it's best to remember to use horizontally oriented ones rather than the vertically oriented pictures, because they make a much more useful cushion. Also, instead of buying expensive feather cushion inserts I've found that you can use older feather pillows - they will go through the washing machine without the spine of the feathers being broken and plump up perfectly as cushion inners.
I had left over mattress ticking from the upholstery of furniture which made nice backs for them and I also made a colourful tablecloth for the outside table, using a remnant (from an op shop of course, how did you guess?), which will look so pretty with hydrangeas on it. The colours are a lot more vibrant than they appear here, I'm getting to grips with a new computer and all the associated problems; it's a steep learning curve for a luddite such as myself.
