Now let's learn to talk again | BBC Radio Solent's Alun Newman

We’ve had long enough to get ready so there should be no problem welcoming in small groups of people we’ve missed.

There’s been a long time to plan for it but we still managed to get off to a shaky start.

My sister and her family descended and although we’ve had more than over half a year to get ready, we weren't.

As they were arriving on Easter Sunday I checked with Google the night before and one supermarket was open. I dashed down at 10am only to see a small group of masked bag carriers all in deep conversation outside.

Apparently they also thought the supermarket would be open. It wasn’t.

The internet was wrong. We were in freefall. The whole group of ‘last-minute planners’ knew there was only one option.

We had all been chatting like newly found friends but the temperature soon changed.

For it was obvious that the only option now was the local Co-op.

As if in an Olympic sprint we all had the same nightmare revelation at exactly the same time.

That store is about one minute away around the corner. We were off.

As I piled into the Co-op it was like a scene from Day of the Triffids. The shelves were being stripped fast and I had to think on my feet. You know things are pressured when you see a dad panic-buying a meal deal.

What was on my list?

My wife had requested rocket salad and sweet potatoes. Possibly some spring onions and some red peppers.

That was now laughable. I grabbed the last bag of carrots and two bags of white potatoes. It really didn’t matter about the cost.

I shielded some nearly out-of-date chicken like an eagle pinning down its prey to feed its young.

There was nothing for pudding, so I bought two packs of butter and some self-raising flour. I could hear the spirit of my mother in my mind saying ‘you can always make scones’. Finally, some of their parenting was really kicking in.

When I returned home, I tipped the bags out like a contestant from Ready, Steady, Cook.

We looked at them with unease. Fortunately, I was saved by a Slimming World cookbook that had a great marinade for chicken that only seemed to involve soy sauce, honey and garlic.

It’s funny the amount of time I’ve spent discussing lockdown. You know, having conversations about how things have changed/will change. Expressing how much I’d like to see different groups of people.

Well, when it finally happens I’m caught napping. Foot off the gas. Asleep at the wheel. Some frantic cooking. If in doubt, dust any dessert with icing sugar.

We were ready with minutes to spare. Several things stood out. ..

Butter on pretty much anything is great. Cream with some vanilla and a drop of icing sugar is a gift from God.

Even though it was minus 50 outside, if the sun’s shining it doesn't seem to matter all that much.

And you know what the best thing of all was? The conversation you can never get on a Zoom call.

Those small questions about life that seemed to have no purpose but are actually the glue that holds relationships and families together.

Finally, we were hanging out again.

Children were asking what time they were leaving.

Adults were asking ‘who’s driving?’ Life was finally returning to a pattern I recognised.

I imagine that at some stage we might say ‘do you remember when we were only allowed to meet outside?’

Here’s hoping that becomes a distant memory very quickly.

NO PIECE OF MIND…

My favourite story from around the world this week was about a man from Germany, 52-year-old Peter Schubert.

Peter needed a focus, a project to keep him going. This is the case for most people I think, you’ve got to have something, a routine that keeps you sane. Working, allotment, a project or a hobby. Family. Grandchildren.

I know for the rest of my life I’ll need something that brings a bit of meaning. If I don’t have that, I know my wife will assassinate me. I spent a whole afternoon during the thick of lockdown 2020 sorting different nuts, bolts and screws into jam jars. I’m on the high-risk register for people who need projects.

Back to Peter.

Knowing that he needs a focus and being a man of ambition he buys The King of Puzzles. This is a 54,000-piece, 190sq ft jigsaw puzzle. It’s a world record attempt and in the puzzling world it’s referred to as The King.

Peter decides to commit every hour of every day to this project. Rather than chip away and enjoy it, he turns it into a mission. I bet he’s fun to live with. Reports say some days he could put in a 15-hour shift.

He’s making great progress and nearing the end of this mammoth task and then… there’s a piece missing. What would you do then? Yep. He checks the vacuum. Nothing. It’s a 53,999-piece puzzle.

It’s a brilliant story. Utterly hilarious and a lovely example of ‘it’s not the destination, it’s the journey.’ However, don’t say that to Peter, he’s not quite in the right ‘headspace’ to hear that yet.

A message from the editor, Mark Waldron

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