Morning dawns grey. The early spring warmth of previous days replaced by a misty-wintry chill obscures Judy’s view towards the mountains of Snowdonia. The tide is fully out exposing the sand flats; a younger person with better eyesight would be able to see the outlines of the wading birds busily feeding. Judy feeds the cats and then returns to bed with coffee and toast and a book.
In a town in the north west of England, Irene switches on the radio for company, gets out of bed and gets herself dressed. The paper shop opens at 8 o’clock so a short walk fills in the time, having donned a woolly hat and warm gloves against the cold. The streets are pretty empty at this time of morning. Just one person is waiting at the bus stop wearing the obligatory face-mask. Of course, in ‘normal’ times it would be busy with commuters and school children making their way to school. The seasons, however, are not locked down: front gardens are displaying encouraging signs of spring with purple and yellow crocuses and tubs of daffodils. Irene walks past the playground and skate park which will no doubt be busy later on. By the playing fields there are a few dog walkers and joggers, braving the morning cold.
Back home with the paper, porridge is made in a new pan – an online purchase as these days ‘non-essential’ shops are shut. Irene, at 70 years old, wasn’t much of an online shopper in the past but sees it as a necessary lifeline now, although being able to go into town again to shop in person, and to meet a friend for a coffee, is something she is really looking forward to. Not that things will be the same. Debenhams has closed for starters. Irene remembers looking at the cosmetic counters in there with her friends as teenagers. The porridge and a cup of tea in her favourite mug – ‘the best Grandma in the world’ – are accompanied by the successful completion of the sudoku in the paper and a nice feeling of achievement! Then some housework. This doesn’t take long as Irene lives alone in a small, one-bedroom flat, which she keeps spotless.
Across town, Bill has just received his weekly delivery of organic vegetables. He’s been up since dawn too. Rather than getting a print version of the paper Bill reads his on his iPad: the latest Covid statistics and news of what will be in the budget later on today. 84-year-old Bill is lucky enough not to have to be personally concerned about extensions to furlough schemes and increased Universal Credit payments, but he feels for those who do. After a healthy breakfast of oats and fruit (Bill has a heart condition), he checks and answers emails. Although long retired he is still active in a number of charities and other groups. He is glad to be kept busy in the current circumstances, particularly as he too lives alone.
After a second breakfast of porridge and fruit Judy gets dressed and drives to the bank in the nearby town. A weekly trip that gives the car a run. Most of her food shopping is done by her son and daughter-in-law. Once home she sits in the sunroom with another cup of coffee and watches the birds on the bird feeder, then picks up her cross stitch. She hopes that the robin the cats brought in earlier has recovered, having flown out of the window she opened for it.
Listening to the radio again Irene plays a game on her phone to pass the time. Not being able to visit friends and family or pop to the shops makes it difficult to fill the day sometimes. After a mid-morning cup of coffee, she puts her outdoor clothes on again to go to the chemist to collect a prescription. The sun is trying, probably in vain, to break through the cloud. As Irene doesn’t drive she walks to the local chemist which, luckily, isn’t far. The small parade of local shops has been a bit of a lifeline during the lockdowns, and they seem to be doing quite well out of increased business too. Except the café, which looks as if it has shut down permanently.
Bill stops for a socially distanced chat with a neighbour out in his front garden on his way to pick up his prescription. People are much more likely to stop for a chat these days and Bill’s neighbours have an outdoor social event every Sunday afternoon during lockdown, so they have got to know each other much better, one of the benefits of this situation. Spring bulbs are starting to bloom in the front gardens along the street of pre-war semi-detached houses and the camelia in Bill’s garden has a few pink buds opening up. These are a sure sign of longer days, warmer weather and, at last, something (perhaps) to look forward to. Outside the chemist Bill dons his face mask and stands two metres behind Irene. They smile at each other from behind their masks and nod slightly, sharing in the pain of having to queue outside in the cold. Having collected his tablets Bill heads back home for lunch.
The sun comes out and it is warm enough on the patio for Judy to sit outside to eat her lunch of beans on toast. She has a video call with a friend – very grateful for the technology which allows them to see each other. After lunch she does some baking – freezing scones to give to her daughter-in-law when she brings the shopping. She listens to radio 4 programmes on BBC Sounds in the kitchen.
Irene has been watching more television than before lockdown, when she would never watch during the day as she always had something else to do. She likes the old reruns of soaps and sitcoms and watches an episode of Classic EastEnders before lunch. The television stays on for the rest of the day in the background now. It’s company. Lunch is cheese and crackers with a bit of salad – it would be easy to put on weight, something Irene has struggled with in the past, so she tries to eat healthily most of the time. Bill, on the other hand, has his main meal at lunchtime. He roasts some colourful organic vegetables to have with a piece of fish, followed by a carton of yogurt and a piece of fairtrade dark chocolate. After his lunch the BBC news goes on. More about the budget. Perhaps not surprisingly, feeling snug indoors with the central heating on Bill and Irene both succumb to a short nap. Irene is woken by her friend phoning her for a natter, having had a neighbour help her to get her new phone working. In ‘normal’ times, Irene would see her friend every couple of weeks, but they haven’t met up in person for months now. Still, a phone call is nice.
When Bill wakes from his siesta he drives a short distance to a local country park for his daily walk. Despite the cold, dull weather he tries to get out every day and walk at least a couple of miles to keep fit and feels lucky to have plenty of green space in the local area to choose from. Today he manages over 3 miles, according to his fitbit. Lots of other people are also out, despite the cold weather, and the usual smiles and nods and skirting around each other on too-narrow paths punctuates Bill’s progress. Now that spring is almost here the birds are singing loudly, although Bill is not expert enough to recognise different species unless he can see them too. He spots a red-breasted robin stridently announcing his territorial claims and a blackbird rustling around in the dead leaves under a bush. The buds on the trees and bushes are getting fatter and closer to bursting every day. Bill notices a few tentative, pale white blossoms on some cherry trees and there are lots of yellow hazel catkins bobbing in the breeze. Arriving home mid-afternoon, he has a cup of herbal tea, before more replying to emails and a couple of phone calls to friends who are kind enough to ‘check up’ on him, as he lives alone. Later on, in the early evening, his son and grandson facetime from their home in France for a chat. These family chats are more frequent now than before the pandemic, but of course they haven’t met up in person for well over a year.
Judy reads yesterday’s paper left by a neighbour. The mist has come in again, along with the tide. The sunroom is cold now so she is in the lounge and has tea and biscuits waiting for Pointless to start. She does some exercises from the sofa. By 6pm she’s drinking gin and tonic and on the phone to her sister.
Irene keeps the television on and watches some more reruns – The Bill, Coronation Street – then prepares her tea of salmon salad, and eats it whilst watching Four in a Bed, a reality programme involving a competition between bed and breakfast owners. Evening comes as a relief to Irene as her routine of watching all the soaps (Emmerdale, Coronation Street and EastEnders) hasn’t changed. Her day becomes familiar again at this time.
Bill has a bowl of home-made vegetable soup, prepared yesterday, and then puts the news on the television. The budget and Covid statistics are still the main topics, along with Nicola Sturgeon’s questioning in the Scottish parliament. None of these things affect Bill directly. He does, however, reflect on what it might mean for younger people on furlough or unemployed. He doesn’t envy them being in this situation.
Before Irene settles in for the evening to watch Emmerdale and Coronation Street, her daughter facetimes her. Her daughter does a big supermarket shop for her and so they do see each other briefly every week as the bags are passed from the car boot into the hallway of the small flat, but Irene misses seeing her grandchildren regularly and spending time with them. They are growing up fast. And her daughter is so busy what with home schooling and work, she wishes she could do something to help. No wonder she feels a bit guilty watching reruns of soap operas on TV all day long. Having showered and changed into her pyjamas before her tea, Irene is ready for bed by 9.30pm.
Judy makes a Chinese stir fry for her evening meal. The evening is spent watching television, as it might have been without lockdown, the cat on her lap. Another phone call, from her daughter this time. As she puts the phone down, she picks up her knitting – squares for a blanket.
Bill has a zoom meeting this evening with one of the groups he belongs to. He’s used to the technology now although of course it isn’t the same as meeting up in person. He’s glad he has made the effort to ‘keep up’ with technology. The meeting lasts an hour – no chit-chat afterwards on zoom and no drive home either. Then a hot chocolate and a biscuit to wind down before he too heads off to bed.
As Judy goes to bed the tide has receded once more; a long slow exhalation at the end of another day of lockdown.
Exegesis
This story draws from some of the 60 diaries collected from across the UK on 3rd March 2021 as part of a project to capture a variety of experiences of living in the UK during the pandemic. The diaries, along with media accounts and other supplementary material aim to show how people from around the UK spent their time during ‘Lockdown 3’.
Judy, Bill and Irene are pseudonyms; their stories are not taken from individual diaries but are fictionalised composites from a number of the diaries. This story takes its inspiration from research-based sociological fiction such as Ash Watson’s Into the Sea and the sociological imagination (Mills, 1959) in relating ‘personal troubles’ within the diaries to the public issues of the Covid-19 pandemic. Diary writing is perhaps the most apposite form of writing to make connections between biography and history. Starting with diaries lends the story a considerable veracity and therefore sociological authority (Sinner, Hasebe-Ludt & Leggo, 2019). It aims to show how ‘[e]veryday life … takes everything we have’ but ‘also spawns a series of little somethings’ growing ‘wary and excited’ (Stewart, 2007: 9).
The story is not in a traditional narrative format. There is no exposition, climax or dénouement. It is written instead in a lyrical style (Abbott, 2007), presenting a series of textual images of the day. The lyrical style was chosen to emphasise the stasis of daily life within the restrictions of lockdown, a form of hiatus in ‘normal’ (or pre-pandemic) life. A liminal time/space of transition from the ‘normal’ to the ‘new normal’ (Turner, 1969). The motivation of the characters is to ‘get through the day’, making the story both particularistic and universal.
The analysis of the diaries focused on the rhythm of the day and the comparison of that with a ‘normal’ day – often alluded to in the diaries. A number of diarists, for example, mentioned watching more television than usual. Walks were common and although rarely described in detail, the (relatively) slow pace of walking fits with the slower rhythms of the day for most diarists. Small outings, a chance to visit the shop or the park, were highlights of the day. Phone calls – speaking to friends and family ‘live’ – were also high points for many. ‘Worlds of reach’ (Schutz, 1962) have narrowed physically during lockdown so the ability to stretch them as far as possible through technology is precious. The places where we live and our social relations are core to our identities which, perhaps, feel less secure when we have fewer interpersonal interactions.
Each diarist told the story of their day as they experienced it. In drawing from multiple diaries the story puts place and time at its centre and the protagonists circle around this fulcrum (Bennett, 2014). The events related in the diaries then become more than an assortment of individual episodes and shed light on collective lockdown experiences. Not everything in the story happened exactly like this, but everything in the story did happen.