The inimitable Ted Sherrell muses on life in his own unique fashion

No matter how dark, dispiriting, even alarming the most unpleasant of times might be, the majority of us are able to discern positives — shafts of sunlight piercing the darkness; such is the basic resilience of the human spirit. This is surely so even during these depressing, perilous Covid dominated days— although in stating this I am aware that essentially I am speaking only for myself.

These thoughts, however, came to me recently when I received my bank statement. In long gone days, my debt to the financial ‘godfathers’ would have been painted in figures of a blood red hue, whilst in more recent times, although now in a less ominous black, they would be followed by a most menacing minus sign.

During the past few months, however, there has been alongside the final reckoning the most glorious of symbols — a plus. For, at last, I am spending less than I earn — to me a major cause for celebration. Is this down to shrewdness and discipline on my part? No, not at all; it is due simply to the fact that ‘lockdown’ — both partial and total — has restricted immensely my ability, never lacking in the past, to spend money; this is a situation which, no doubt, is the experience of millions of others throughout our islands.

Petrol bills are negligible — we cannot really go anywhere; few will be spending much on holidays; the opportunities to travel far in this country are very limited whilst it is only the very intrepid — possibly foolhardy — who will venture abroad, because of the draconian rules and procedures which have to be followed in order to gain re-entry.

Save for food and vital supplies, we are largely unable to shop — no clothes, shoes, gifts, furniture, books or multitudinous other products can be purchased except online. Cafés, pubs, theatres, cinemas and the like, plus sporting venues are closed to the paying public. Mind you mercifully for a faint hearted soul such as myself — who treats football almost as a matter of life or death — I am spared the traumas associated with visits to Home Park. Thus, except on the very basics of existence, little is being spent.

Another inadvertent ‘silver-lining’ coming our way via lockdown — well certainly one such to the miserable anti-social old sod that I am — is the fact that no unwanted visitors come wandering down our path.

Many fall into this category but none more so than those persistent folk who, in the past, have tried to recruit me to their obscure, unworldly idea of Christianity. I do not lack respect for these good folk so dedicated to their beliefs, but their visits can become both protracted and tedious.

There is, mind you, a major drawback to the prohibition of visitors — we are unable to welcome any members of our dear, closely knit family. We speak regularly on the phone, of course, but virtual hugs and kisses are a poor substitute for the real thing.

However, life now, generally, is far less complicated; rarely at present do we have to make decisions regarding what we have to do, where we have to go, who we have to see and when such has to be done. In effect, we are housebound; that is our world and whilst it is an unexciting one, it is one we know so very well and whilst it carries little spontaneity or mystery, it also is relatively free of stress — unlike normal existence.

There are, of course, the occasional forays to purchase supplies but this is not onerous; traffic is exceedingly light, thus driving for an old codger like me almost a pleasure as opposed to the fraught, frustrating business of clogged roads, tailbacks and diversions which dominated our highways pre Coronavirus.

It could be that even the old car is happy escaping from its garage once in a while.

As to the supermarkets, their ‘footfall’ appears to be much lighter than it was — and generally one can get through the check-outs without the need of a packed lunch for sustenance.

Back at home, to me — next to the telephone — the most vital piece of equipment is the television. Both Ann and I while away many hours in front of the box, she testing her keen brain with quiz programmes, and me honing my arithmetical skills trying to add up just how many corpses litter the average episode of ‘Midsomer Murders’.

So this life in lockdown could be far worse for us; yet I do realise that I am articulating the good old British ‘Dunkirk Spirit’ – defiance in the face of adversity, making the best of a bad job. May the day be not far off when we can get back to some normality — even if it does mean an overdraft.

Tomorrow (Sunday, March 6) Ted and his wife Ann will celebrate their Golden Wedding Anniversary. Many congratulations to them.