I believe I speak for many when I say that 2020 has been a strange year. And I hate to say it, but I don’t think 2021 is going to be exactly normal either. For myself as a writer being alone at home with a computer, a coffee and a cat is the norm. The big difference for me was that the house was full of the rest of my family all working from home. At the beginning, I found this very tricky. Yet it is funny how as the year went on - and I hate to use this overworked phrase - the new normal - became exactly that - normal. At our place, we have grown used to the new house rules - closed door means don’t come in under any circumstances and whatever you do - work quietly.
As the New Year approaches - one day away as I write this - I find I am trying to assess what I have achieved. Writing took a tremendous hit at the start. I was taught to sew at a young age, and with the terrible shortage of protective wear for hospital and care staff, I offered help.
To start with, I made plastic disposable gowns and because of the shortage of plastic; we used clear bin sacks the sort used for recycling. Then rolls of plastic were delivered to the door, and these were easier as the seams needed only to be ironed and not sewn like the bin-liner gowns. Then I made scrubs. They came in sets of three and were pre-cut by a local sail maker. They were made to order as far as possible and one set was so huge - the trousers were as long as I am tall. I wonder who that person is and whether they are still using the scrubs I made. When things settled down a bit, I made masks. These went free to various place like nursing homes and schools and were also sold for charity. All in all, I was amazed how many people helped with coordinating, donating materiel and time. It was quite an operation. I was glad to be able to help. But also glad when I could stop and get back to my writing desk.
Happy New Year and stay safe.