Monthly Archives: May 2020

The Arts

Podcasts about Wales – learn as you listen

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Looking for something to fill your brain while you take your seventeen billionth government-mandated walk of the lockdown? Hannah Pudner picks some of the best podcasts about Wales for you to listen to.

There’s a modest but high calibre range of pods about Wales – some funny, some informative, some both. I spent some time searching through and is a pick of the best. Whether you’re already a podcast fan or brand new to the medium, whether you’re on furlough with time on your hands or still taking that grinding commute… wherever and however you listen, settle in, and enjoy some great content about our fine country.

Shreds: Murder in the dock – this is an utterly gripping and incredibly well produced true crime series, outlining the notorious murder of Cardiff woman Lynnette White and the following horrific miscarriage of justice. It is all that, and so much more. Weaved through the story telling is the history of Tiger Bay and the changing identity of Cardiff – exposing the ugliness and brutality of police corruption and racism, and the warmth and power of community. Perhaps the most important podcast about Cardiff you could listen to.

Smart Welsh People – Cardiff neuroscientist and author Dr Dean Burnett took umbrage about stereotypes in mainstream media all too often showing the Welsh as a bit twp. So he decided he’d do something to counter that, and thus, this podcast was born. The premise is simple – Dean interviews ‘smart Welsh people’. He asks them what they do, why they do it and generally what they have to say. He’s talked to a wide varied of people, from comedian Dan Thomas, entertainer Carys Eleri, to Heath hospital ICU consultant Dr Matt Morgan. It’s funny, informative and not a twp in sight.

Welsh Music Podcast – listen to Neil and James talk all things Welsh music, from tunes you might hear on radio, to new and emerging, to the more obscure and delightful. Each episode features a big name from the world of Welsh music – writers, musicians, broadcasters and journalists. They share their stories, their passions and favourite Welsh albums. A whole lot of musical fun.

Hacio’r Iaith – this Welsh language pod brings big developments in the world of tech right to your doorstep. Whether it’s gaming, block chain, or the use of 5G on the A55, come here to listen to pals Bryn, Sioned and Iestyn chew the fat on tech developments from across the world and how they’re impacting us here in Wales. You certainly don’t need to be a tech expert to enjoy this pod, and it’s a lot of fun.

Flatten the Curve – “from Wuhan to Wales, and everything in between” this pod gives an insightful analysis to how the virus is uniquely and specifically impacting Wales. By interviewing experts in the field, discussions range from the disproportionate impact on our black and minority ethnic communities, the role of the media and how it talks about Wales, and the impact of our devolved politics. A timely, insightful analysis of the crisis, not often covered by UK wide media.

Welsh History Podcast – this pod does what it says on the tin, with 122 episodes and counting it is recounting the history of Wales from early Stone Age to modern day. Learn about how the country changed after the Romans left, who Llewelyn the Great was and why he was so great, and the damage done by the 1300s plague – and so much more. Have a listen and truly feel rooted in the history of our country. An interesting twist is that it’s hosted from Canada by Canadian Jonathan Williams, exploring his Welsh heritage.

Massive disclaimer alert – there are more excellent pods about Wales out there from rugby, food, to politics. If this has fuelled your interest then just have a browse for other podcasts on Wales and let us know what you find! If you’re brand new to podcast listening and not sure where to start, try this step by step guide published by the Guardian: How to listen to podcasts: everything you need to know.

Hannah Pudner is Global Director of External Affairs for United Purpose, a Cardiff based international development charity that works with three million of the world’s poorest people in Malawi, Mozambique, Ghana, The Gambia, Senegal, Nigeria, Cameroon, Rwanda, Uganda, Kenya, Guinea, South Africa, India, Bangladesh and Brazil. Hannah is from Neath and has lived in Cardiff for seven years. Follow her on Twitter @hannahpudner.

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The People

Letters from Cardiff in lockdown: Daniel Holloway

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Today’s instalment for the Letters from Cardiff in lockdown series comes from Daniel Holloway, who works for the police. We’re looking for your stories, so please contribute to Letters from Cardiff in lockdown! 

Reflecting back to life pre the lockdown seems a little strange now, that early wintery bit of 2020 didn’t really exist, did it?

Possibly like lots of other people I watched on in disbelief as the waves filtered through about a distant disease which quickly became our tsunami, crashing down all around us in mid March.

Personally going to work for me hasn’t changed a great deal and working for the Police and being classed as key worker has brought with it mixed emotions. Firstly and thankfully one of enormous gratitude that my employment situation is secure and unaffected by recent events which has clearly not been the case for many people.

Initially I also saw a real fear in the eyes of some my colleagues, unsure if by still having to come to work, that we would eventually get sick ourselves or potentially spread the disease to our loved ones. The anxiety has eased a little over the last month or so but not complacency.

Some people in the community have thanked me for doing “what I do” but compared to the Mums and Dads who spend long arduous days, home schooling children while attempting to carry out careers of their own from the comfort of their kitchens or bedrooms, I feel lucky and certainly happy to help. It also goes without saying that my fellow emergency service colleagues in the NHS and care workers deserve all the praise they are getting. I just hope that this might be finally recognised financially by the government once this is all a distant dream, sadly I won’t hold my breath though.

So in between home school days spent at the breakfast bar, chipping away at Google classroom my kids have adapted to this new normality, thanks mainly to my wife who having being furloughed has spent many stressful hours entertaining our two boys.

As a family we have taken lots of new walks around Pontprennau and found a river and hidden places we didn’t know existed even after 14 years of living in the area. Some wonderful person started “Pontprennau Rocks” on Facebook in which the children and lots of adults (big kids) paint pictures on rocks and hide them around the area for people to find and photograph. It’s been lovely see many people taking time to enjoy our sunny corner of Cardiff and say hello while out and about.

One of my funniest lock down experiences has been having my hair cut (at distance) by my friend and work colleague, I did suspect that I may end up looking a right state but he has honestly given me a better hair cut than any I have paid for professionally recently. It’s amazing how people’s talents and skills always rise up in a crisis and this one really did surprise me.

As someone who finds the pace of the 21st century fairly brutal I have actually really enjoyed this period of time.

I say this with an awareness and perspective that I personally have been unaffected by this awful disease and its ongoing horror. I have previously suffered with mental health issues so this opportunity to slow down has been really appreciated. This of course takes place on my days off from work and I have relished the chance to be creative, write, draw and take photos, read and play guitar. I spend a lot of time outdoors within a work context and so to see blue skies, clear rivers and actually really hear the birds singing has been a privilege.

Cycling down to Cardiff Bay from Pontprennau is now a pleasure rather than a traffic fuelled chore.

The lack of any real daily expectations is a gift also, so rather than worrying about where I’m going to take my children to keep them entertained, we all just accept that we are lucky to have a nice garden and so lets make the most of it and play games and relax (not that six and nine year olds relax). I initially got caught up in the “I have to do X, Y and Z” on my days off.

“I haven’t done a Joe Wicks yet,” which caused me anxiety but now I just think, hey let’s just do what we can, forget what others are doing, let’s just be.

I’ve been pleasantly surprised by how useful technology has been as an alternative to meeting friends and enabling communication and interaction to continue. Back in the good old days of 2019 I was lucky if I had the time or energy to meet up with friends and would probably manage it every three-four months, now every Saturday me and my friends sit for two hours drinking beer, eating snacks and listening to music together (but apart).

So it works as follows; the head music master Neil sends us eight topics such as “a song that reminds you of a journey etc” we then compile our tracks on Spotify and from 9pm every Saturday we hit play and converse via Whats App, its been really fun and a great way discover new music and talk with like minded music geeks. Like many hundreds of other music fans I have spent evenings at Tim’s Twitter Listening Parties (timstwitterlisteningparty.com) thanks to Tim Burgess of Charlatans fame, again everyone pressing play when Tim says and enjoys classic albums and/or discovering new records for the first time.

Tim’s Listening Parties are a wonderful idea that provides a sense of kinship and pleasure via music. We may be alone but we are certainly not lonely.

I have also been learning Welsh for the last two years and so it came as a shock when lessons were suspended and moved to on-line classes. At first I wondered how and if it would work but again I have enjoyed meeting up with class mates and our amazing teacher Awen has worked so hard to make lessons productive and fun. Learning Welsh has been such an amazing positive in my life and i’m determined to sit my now cancelled exam one day in the future and move onwards.

Of course it not all been positive and I’ve really missed my parents and I’m concerned about their safety. My sister has a young family and we have all missed seeing each other, even though Zoom meetings and quiz nights have made up for that a little. My nan passed away in December aged 98 after suffering from dementia. Towards the end of her life she lived in a care home for a short period of time and so I can only imagine what families are going through right now not being able to see loved ones regularly.

As Joe Strummer famously said “the future is unwritten” and I really hope that lots of the positives will remain from this strange time.

The empathy and consideration for fellow humans, the realisation that people who worked in low paid roles are equal and vital to our way of life, that the creative ideas and secret meeting places don’t just fade away but grow and become the norm.

I firmly believe that 2020 has tried to tell us something about the way we existed prior to COVID-19and to ignore it and not learn from it is an option. Personally when this is all done and dusted you’ll find me on my way to nearest coffee shop and then maybe for that long awaited swim in the sea…..ahh remember the sea?

Daniel Holloway is a 43 year old father of two, music obsessive and Liverpool fan still in waiting. Follow Daniel Hollow on Twitter / Daniel Holloway Instagram.

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The People

Letters from Cardiff in lockdown: Jamie Grundy

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Today’s instalment for the Letters from Cardiff in lockdown series comes from writer, researcher and trainer Jamie Grundy – who has had a bit of a rough start to 2020. Big love to you Jamie. We’re looking for your stories, so please contribute to Letters from Cardiff in lockdown! 

Down but Not Out

Up until mid-February this year things were going pretty well for me. I’d been self-employed for just over three years and finally it was paying off. I mainly work as a trainer supporting people with convictions. Most weeks I’m in and out of prisons, and my skills were in demand from the School of Hard Knocks, Youth Cymru, Inside Out Support Wales and others. I was due to go to New York with my book, ’90 Minutes of Freedom’ on the only prisoner football team in Wales. For the first time in 36 months I could breathe.

Life was good.

Then it all changed.

First my marriage broke down after 24 years together and we amicably made plans to keep my daughter in her home, to minimise the impact on her life. That meant I’d move into a new place, close by. I dealt with this difficult news in a practical sense: finding a new place to rent, scouring Gumtree for bargain furniture, leaning on the crucial support of friends who’d been through this before. Everyone is going through their own unique challenges with the coronavirus and the impending lockdown wasn’t the main thing on my mind at this time, unsurprisingly.

I have a colleague in South Korea and the photos on social media of her with a facemask on, self-isolating with her partner, seemed a world away. That couldn’t happen here – could it? But then my work stopped, one client after another pulled, over the course of a week. Next to follow were my speaking engagements in New York. One, then another until all were cancelled, with my contact there informing me everything was closing down because people were dying in significant numbers. Two days before my flight, the USA extended their travel ban to include the UK and the decision was made for me: I was staying put.

The hardest blow came next. As the lockdown was imposed and we all got used to a the new phrase of ‘social distancing’ and what it meant, I was unable to move out into a new property by the letting agent, because businesses were closing down and staff were furloughed. This stay-at-home isolation was not letting me move on to a new stage in my life, physically. It also provided the perfect metaphor of an enforced lockdown where, no matter how you may feel about it, you are remaining where you are. The additional body blow of a total lack of income from no work, hit me hard below the belt.

I couldn’t move out. I couldn’t move on. I couldn’t earn. I was together but alone. The only person who was going to get me out of this was me.

A glimmer of hope was announced with government financial support for the self-employed and at the time of writing I’ve made all the necessary applications and I’m waiting to hear what I’ll get. But I wouldn’t be able to rely on this to see me through. Plus, I was acutely aware, with a lockdown being witnessed globally, this could be a new normal – another new phrase we were hearing. One aspect of this was how incredibly technologically able we were becoming. Friends, parents, kids and everyone was on Zoom, Houseparty and Skype to stay in contact with each other. This I realised was my opportunity.

I purchased a webinar licence, Webinarjam, and had my website redesigned to sell online training courses. The previous sessions I’d run on supporting people with a criminal conviction for support workers were adapted. I ran a couple of test events including a training webinar for staff from the School of Hard Knocks, plus I did an online book talk, to learn through this experience. It worked and the feedback was positive! This new-normal of online learning could be my personal support mechanism through this time. I spent weeks developing additional courses and putting them online on my website. So far it is working. People are booking on them and I’m throwing myself into this to do the best I can.

Anyone who’s self-employed will know, if you don’t put the effort in, it’s unlikely to work out. I’ve spent more weekends and evenings than I can remember over the last six weeks to try to make this successful.

If it doesn’t work, then I’ve tried to create a back-up plan. I’m hoping to begin work as a part-time delivery driver soon. This won’t just give me a much needed wage, it will also get me out of the house. I will be driving beyond the two mile radius to the shops and back that I’ve not extended beyond in weeks. I will be providing a much needed service to people, bring the goods they’ve ordered online to them so they can stay home with their families. I’ll be meeting and talking to new people and I’ve missed that more than anything.

Having spent a lot of time in my previous work talking to former prisoners, I have heard first-hand the challenges they have endured and come through, because of their prison sentence: being forcibly isolated from their families, friends and children because of their conviction.

I have not known that type of incarceration, but the parallel is there with our current lockdown situation, albeit in diluted form. These conversations help me to know that I will get through this. I also think back to my grandparent’s generation: how they coped with the challenges of war and how they got through.

We are all going through our unique challenges, but by taking things a day at a time and not looking too far ahead, there will come a time when we will all be able to look back at this time as an historical, not present day, event in our lives.

Jamie Grundy is  an Independent Trainer, Educator & Researcher who works in Prison Education, Higher Education and Community Development. Follow him on his website jamiegrundy.net / Jamie Grundy on Facebook / Jamie Grundy on Twitter / Jamie Grundy LinkedIn


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The People

Letters from Cardiff in lockdown: Anonymous #5

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Today’s instalment for the Letters from Cardiff in lockdown series comes from an anonymous contributor. Please carry on sending your stories to Letters from Cardiff in lockdown.

Life as we know it has ended, this is what I had written in my journal in those early days in March. Got to find a way of getting through this unsettling period as unscathed as possible. Now seven weeks later I have reread my notes and see patterns emerging.

The first week didn’t seem real but I shopped for more than a single person would normally have in a week so I wouldn’t need to go out for a while. The worst was that my planned trip to England to see my granddaughter had to be cancelled and so far it looks like I might even miss her first birthday unless the rules change. Time I will never get back.

Then things started to speed up, my son lost his job in media, schools closed, and suddenly I was becoming socially isolated. Lots of emotions, up one minute, down the next, felt guilty if I wasn’t leaning new skills, having zoom parties or doing lots of exercises.

l live alone, and have lived in Cardiff for the past six years, having moved from England to be near family. It’s been hard leaving my friends behind and trying to make new ones but gradually that is happening. Who knew that this situation would test how strong those friendships are.

I am happy to say that despite the enforced social distancing I am able to contact both my old and new friends. I have never been one for constant tablet or phone use but it has been invaluable.

The biggest restriction is not being able to travel to meet family and friends.

By mid April I was getting tired of it all, feeling sad, unmotivated. I was starting to feel almost reclusive. Thursday’s seem to be my worst day, maybe as that’s the decision day and you always hope some good news will come. I dread the day if I have to self isolate, for my own sanity my son has kept up visual contact regularly and safely, he has been a lifesaver. I worry about how he will manage if he doesn’t work soon, a mother never stops worrying about her children.

I can’t say the road I live has come together much through this, only a handful of people come out and clap on a Thursday. As a nurse by profession it is disappointing to see this apathy but I am not surprised really, like  most services it’s not until you can’t get it you appreciate them.

I have gone back onto the nursing register but as I haven’t been practising for a number of years I requested to work on non frontline roles. So far no contact has been made with me. I also volunteered for the national request but it’s not for Wales. So I decided to do some volunteer work with a food charity I previously worked with. That didn’t last long as sadly they have a policy now of not letting anyone under 70 with a medical condition work. This is so frustrating as I am very well but I understand.

So now I feel rejected and useless, I can’t look after my grandchildren, I can’t volunteer, I can’t travel out of Wales to see my granddaughter.

We are being told that Covid 19 is here to stay and we must expect to get it at some time. This is my anxiety as none of us know how it will affect us. Now everyone knows someone who had had it or had a relative with it, some recovering, sadly others who haven’t.

Good things I find, I have been walking more, doing more painting and crafting, listening to nature and not just noisy seagulls. Technology has been good, vital I think. I feel for anyone on their own with no access to technology. I’ve appreciated my small garden too.

Bad things are I am eating and drinking too much. I think too much, my loneliness seems too great at times. Watching too much television.

I would like to think when we have a new normal that friends still keep in contact, roads stay quieter and people are still kind to each other, especially those who live alone or have no family. I am lucky I have family and friends albeit spread between Wales and England, and I look forward to getting to see them again.

Take care.

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Covid-19 resources

Letters from Cardiff in lockdown – preserved by the National Library of Wales and Glamorgan Archive!

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Exciting news guys. Our Letters from Lockdown series is being archived by the National Library of Wales and The Glamorgan Archive!

Louise Hunt, Archivist for the Glamorgan Archives: “We wanted to ensure that the Letters from Lockdown were preserved for the future, as we feel that they offer a unique insight into how lockdown is affecting individuals in Cardiff.

“How society is responding at this time is likely to be of great interest in the future, so it is important that we ensure content is safeguarded.”

Louise continues: “We are pleased that our colleagues at the National Library of Wales will be adding pages from We Are Cardiff to the Web Archive of Wales and adding them to the special Covid-19 list: ‘Coronavirus (Covid-19) – Impact of Wales’ which will appear on the UK Web Archive Topics and Themes in the near future.”

How to write a letter from lockdown for We Are Cardiff

Explore We Are Cardiff’s Letters from Lockdown

More about the Glamorgan Archives:

“Glamorgan Archives seeks to collect, preserve and make accessible records that show the history of Cardiff, the Vale of Glamorgan, Bridgend, Rhondda Cynon Taf, Merthyr Tydfil and Caerphilly,” says Louise. “We add content to our collection that we think will have lasting historical value and aim to preserve it permanently.  The records that we collect usually haven’t been published and include things like maps and plans, photographs, ledgers, letters, diaries and official documents of organisations and businesses.  Our oldest document is about 850 years old but we also have records that were created only a few months ago.  We have a purpose built building which helps us to store documents securely and in the right conditions to help preserve them.  It has a public searchroom where, under normal circumstances, people can visit to consult the collection.  We are always looking to add more material to our collections so if anyone thinks they might have something worth preserving please do get in contact by emailing glamro@cardiff.gov.uk.”

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The People

Letters from Cardiff in lockdown: Sali Evans

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Today’s instalment for the Letters from Cardiff in lockdown series comes from Sali Evans. We’re looking for your stories, so please contribute to Letters from Cardiff in lockdown! 

I’ve always been a home body – I love my own space, like to be at home, I don’t drink anymore so I’m not a big weekend partier. Cooking, reading and spending time at home are some of my favourite things to do, so I thought that I knew what lockdown would be like, but I honestly had no idea. Before it was officially announced, all I wanted to do was hide away, stay safe and keep my husband close. The way I feel about it now changes daily. Home is warm, safe, comforting. But lockdown is none of those things.

When it looked like we would be going into lockdown I considered what we needed – access to food supplies, to easily get our prescriptions, and things to keep us occupied. I’d been keeping up with the news daily, so planned ahead to make sure that we would be ready when lockdown was announced. I’m not one to stockpile or hoard, but sussed out shops locally that had good stock levels and weren’t too busy or being overrun.

I had a pile of unread books, plenty of sewing and craft projects lined up, articles to research and write for a blog I’d been working on, and my second job would still continue after I was furloughed from my full-time job.

We wrote a list of movies that we wanted to watch and started working through it. He had some DIY jobs and the Xbox and was happy with that, as well as weekly quizzes and NFL watch parties with his friends.

I had all of these grand plans of being in a strict routine, exercising daily, learning new skills and being super productive as I’m sure a lot of people did.

For me, things haven’t gone the way I thought that they would. What I hadn’t considered were the mental and emotional ramifications of the lockdown. The surge in anxiety and uncertainty as lockdown began forced all of those plans onto the back burner.

I’ve suffered with depression and anxiety since I was a teenager, more so in the last two-three years but I have been more myself in the past 12 months. Health anxiety is a real struggle, which is just perfect during a global pandemic!

Only a few days in I was a complete mess, I cried all night when 200 people died of COVID-19 in a single day in Italy. When I read stories about what was happening in their hospitals I couldn’t see any way that we were going to make it out of this alive or without losing our loved ones. I was having anxiety attacks daily. It quickly felt like the hard work and progress to get here was unravelling.

Over the last couple of months every day has been different, and what I do each day is largely determined by how I feel mentally and emotionally. There is no routine, other than getting up and dressed, spending the bulk of the day working on a project or reading, then making dinner and watching a movie together in the evening. A lot of projects have been completed, movies have been watched and books have been read. None of them were what was planned, but I’ve developed a mantra which I live each day by – do what feels right.

My emotional wellbeing has become priority one.

I haven’t worked out every day, because I’ve been too emotionally and physically drained, but I’ve cycled and walked when it has felt right. I haven’t stuck to a strict diet because That’s a strain in itself, on top of everything else. I have issues with insomnia so I have tried to stick to my normal routine, because it has such a profound effect on my mental health. Believe me this journey would look a lot different if I still drank, but let’s just be thankful that’s not the case!

Anyway, now we’re eight  ….nine? …. weeks down the line and I’m feeling on more of an even keel. It’s literally taken this long just to get to a place where I can think logically about my feelings. Emotionally I’m not fine, but I’m ok. I’m not ready to think too much about the psychological fall-out from all of this, and dread to think of the second wave of anxiety which will inevitably come as things start to open up again. I imagine that this will take a long time and a lot of work to get over.

It feels so selfish to say this, but for me, despite everything there have been positives to this lockdown. My husband and I have always been on opposite schedules, since we met almost 11 years ago. We’re used to it, we both value time alone. In other circumstances spending this much time together would have been hard, but I don’t think I would be where I am now without him being here to sit with me when I’m upset or make me take a shower when I’m having a bad day. Spending this time together had brought us closer, made us stronger. It’ll be hard going back to our “normal” routine of spending three or four evenings apart once things change again.

So, what does the “new normal” look like? I’m keen to get back to the gym and work and some semblance of a routine, but what else? I’ve enjoyed the solitude and time at home, I don’t miss a crowded pub or a day out shopping.

I miss being outside without being hypervigilant about my surroundings, I miss going for a coffee with my best friend or going to see a movie. I miss my friends, painfully, and I want to see my dad so badly I can’t even think about it for too long, but I worry that I’ll be too anxious to hug them when we see each other, for fear of making them sick – does that get easier? Does everyone feel like that?

I guess we all have to manage our expectations around what things will be like going forward, and get used to the fact that there is no “after” – this is going to be a long-term shift in our lifestyles. If I’ve learned anything from this experience so far it is to be kind to yourself. We are all living through something huge. Everyone on earth is going through this, every experience is valid, but we have to do what we’re capable of. You aren’t a weak person for not doing daily workouts, learning a new language or taking up baking. We are feeling loss and grief on a monumental level.

Some of us are unfathomably angry, I know I am. There’s no right or wrong way to do this. So, you gain weight during lockdown, so what? You just watch a lot of TV, so what? It’s your time to do with what you can, be kind to yourself and do what feels right.

Follow Sali on Instagram @Sali.Suth_

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The People

Letters from Cardiff in lockdown: Claire Parry-Witchell

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Today’s instalment for the Letters from Cardiff in lockdown series comes from Claire Parry-Witchell, who decided to use the lockdown to experiment with shaving her head. We’re looking for your stories, so please contribute to Letters from Cardiff in lockdown! 

I shaved my head during lock-down.

I have always wanted to do it but never had the balls! Shave my head that is. Lockdown has been a challenge for everyone and in amongst the fear and uncertainty I have witnessed family and friends adapt and try to make the best of the strange new world. I have never spent so much time online and though it is great to be able to socialise and stay in touch it can be exhausting.

Part of my role as the business mentor for Cardiff University is to provide 1:2:1 guidance and support to student entrepreneurs and all of my meetings are now online. I also volunteer as a mentor for Business Wales and practice as a life-coach. All of these meetings sometimes cause what I think is being referred to as “Zoom fatigue” and that is a pretty good description.

With all of the screen time, escapism is a must. I have always enjoyed cooking, reading, yoga, meditation and walking and one of the benefits of lock-down for me has been more time to indulge in my passions. As someone who has lived with poor Mental Health all of my life, I sometimes get an impulse to do something radical, and this one was of those occasions! Due to a huge weight-loss of 14 stone, five years ago my hair fell out so I cut it short, I was tempted to shave it then but didn’t have the courage.

On my bike ride through Bute Park last week I spotted a young woman with a shaved head and immediately made the decision to do it as soon as I got home. I did talk to my husband first of course, he was in support as he always is when I say I am going to do something crazy like jump out of a plane or do a zip wire over The Eden Project!

I figured now is as good a time as any to shave my head, it’s not like I have any official engagements or do’s to attend and if I hated it I have time for it to grow back before going out in public and I can wear a hat out on my daily exercise. As it happens I LOVE IT, in fact I cannot stop stroking my head and I know that’s a bit weird but it is so soft. The best bit is no hair drying, straightening or styling, I feel so free. It is truly liberating. Though society is much more accepting of individuality and freedom of expression through appearance I think women shaving their heads is still considered a bit strange. Though it has to be said that I have only had one or two weird looks from the public!

Out on my walk yesterday I was crossing the road and stopped for a car. A lady in her late 60’s ish wound her window down and said “excuse me, I love your hair, did you do it yourself” I said yes, and that I was very happy with it. She then said “right, I’ve always wanted to shave my head, am going to do it!” She thanked me and waved me goodbye.

It is not for everyone, and I will probably grow it back again, but if you are thinking about it I highly recommend it. I wish everyone well and my hope for the future, when we return to some sort of normality, is that we all find the time to take care of our Health and Well-being in whatever form that takes.

Love and Light. Claire

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The People

Letters from Cardiff in lockdown: Stephen Lingwood

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Today’s instalment for the Letters from Cardiff in lockdown series comes from pioneer minister, Stephen Lingwood. We’re looking for your stories, so please contribute to Letters from Cardiff in lockdown! 

We’re in this strange situation where a lot of us have got nothing to do, and really want to be helpful, but there really is nothing we can do, and we all feel a bit useless.

I’ve worked as a pioneer minister in Cardiff since 2018. What that means is that I’m freed from a lot of the usual duties of “vicaring” to explore what faith and spirituality might look like outside of traditional church. For me that has involved exploring the intersection of spirituality, community, and social justice activism, particularly in Canton and Riverside.

My usual working week involved working with Riverside-based arts organisation Gentle/Radical at their co-working space in the Wyndham Street Centre, as well as working with other community and activist groups. Before the lockdown started I was part of a group organising an interfaith prayer vigil for climate justice outside the Senedd every Friday afternoon.

Now of course all that has stopped. My usual weekly rhythms (a coffee while working on my laptop in Chapter Arts Centre on a Monday, a drink in the Crafty Devil on Tuesday, etc) – all that has gone. Sure, some things are happening online, but I do find myself with a lot less to do. Like most of us I’m just stuck at home.

I’m lucky that my employment is secure, for now. But I’m left with a sense of frustration, guilt, and (of course) loneliness because I can’t go out and do more. I joined the Canton Mutual Aid group and gave my phone number to two of my local streets, but in all the weeks that have gone by I’ve only been asked to collect someone’s prescription once. I’d like to do a lot more! I’d be happy to do it every day.

My sense is that there’s actually more people who want to help than there are people who need help! I know one person who has signed up to help at a food bank but they’ve not yet been called upon to help because the food bank has got a lot more volunteers than they need.

We’re in this strange situation where a lot of us have got nothing to do, and really want to be helpful, but there really is nothing we can do, and we all feel a bit useless.

In our capitalist society we’re used to thinking of ourselves as valuable only if we’re being productive – if we’re a useful cog in a machine, if we’re “economically active”, if we’re useful. In some ways of course there’s nothing wrong with wanting to be useful, with wanting to be helpful to the world, but the problem is when we get our sense of identity and value from that. The spiritual lesson is to know that your value as a human being is inherent – it doesn’t depend on your work.

I’ve come to the conclusion that maybe the challenge right now is to embrace that truth: that I’m useless, that many of us are useless, but maybe, actually, that is OK.

The Chinese religion of Taoism has a concept called “wu wei” which means “actionless action”. This is the idea that actually it’s not always busyness and frantic activity that gets things done, sometimes it is actually stillness, quietness, and “doing nothing” that achieves the most. The Tao Te Ching states, “The Way does nothing, and yet nothing remains unaccomplished.” That has never been more true than now. For those of us who are not key workers the most important thing we can do for our society is stay at home and do nothing other than look after ourselves and our families.

I think prayer is a kind of a “doing nothing”. It’s the “nothing” we do when we’ve run out of all the “somethings”. Apparently a lot of people are searching online for “how to pray”. I suppose because a lot of people are worried. I know I am. I’m worried about my health every time I go out, I’m worried about my job, I’m worried about my family. We never know when it might be our turn to get this virus, or the turn of someone we love. Where do you put all those feelings?

I take them to prayer. I don’t believe that prayer is magic. I don’t believe it means begging God to do something for us. I don’t think it works that way. I don’t think it changes God, I think it changes us.

I don’t want to push religion down anyone’s throat. I honestly don’t mind if you do Buddhist meditation or chanting or yoga or even just exercise. I’m what you call a universalist and so I believe the holy is in all religions, and all people.

But I do think that doing something spiritual, every day as a commitment, does bring deeper peace and contentment. Somehow, in a very mysterious way, “doing nothing” becomes the most important thing to do. Somehow “doing nothing” is actually what changes things. It changes me. I speak my worries into the silence and then I listen to the silence. And in a mysterious way I find a deeper and more lasting peace.

I’ve been trying to follow the example of Julian of Norwich (1343-1416). Julian lived through the Black Death, probably lost families members, and then spent the rest of her life in self-isolation in a “cell” by the side of a church, and yet she wrote “all shall be well, and all shall be well, and all manner of things shall be well.”

Now, I’m not exactly in a “cell” in a two bed house in Canton, and I’m not exactly living like a monk (I do have Netflix) but I’m trying to be inspired by Julian in my life right now. I’m trying to live simply, quietly, to be still enough to pay attention to my soul. And so I chant, I meditate, I pray. I have a small altar table in my room with candles and a picture of a kingfisher painted by a friend of mine (the kingfisher has always been a symbol of the divine for me). Every Wednesday I share Celtic morning and night prayer on my page, Riverside Ministry Project Facebook page.

I’m also gentle on myself. Spirituality shouldn’t be another thing to be guilty about doing or not doing. Some days I eat biscuits and watch telly.

We’re in a global crisis, we need to be very gentle with ourselves however we’re coping. But prayer or meditation can really help in these times too. It helps me to live through these strange times.

Follow Stephen on Twitter @SJLingwood, or visit the Riverside Ministry Project.

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Letters from Cardiff in lockdown: Emina Redzepovic

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Today’s instalment for the Letters from Cardiff in lockdown series comes from Emina Redzepovic. We’re looking for your stories, so please contribute to Letters from Cardiff in lockdown! 

Lockdown, what a time to be alive. As I write this I’m on the upward trajectory from a very down couple of weeks but given the situation I think that’s very normal.

I am lucky enough to be in lockdown with my tall husband, nice cat and a lovely garden that looks mental thanks to #NoMowMay.

The shining light in this lockdown is the lack of cars on the road – less traffic, less pollution, more wildlife, walking/cycling/running on roads and general happiness. I really hope this can continue in some form after lockdown.

My only advice to you is just roll with your feelings – want to eat that whole Sara Lee chocolate gateaux? Do it. Want to have a little scream? Do it? Want to cut your fringe in the bathroom mirror with kitchen scissors? DO IT.

The Good

People – or should I say, some people. Kindness and compassion are often things that humans can easily forget but I have seen it in droves in my community and around the world. Key workers are finally being put on the pedestal they deserve. We all have the ability to love and be kind, more please.

Creativity – God bless the internet and all who sail on her, thank you to the memes, tik tik videos, insta stories, theatre, podcasts, arts, events, comedy, book reading, music and so much more that has kept me just about sane. Special thanks to Kiri Pritchard-McClean, Daisy May Cooper and the Baked Potato song for providing me with particular joy

The animals – my gorgeous cat George is a constant source of joy, she’s been loyal, funny, cute and bitey throughout and made life a lot easier. The animals we love have been working overtime to keep us sane and even if you don’t own an animal the videos have been life changing – elephants having a bath, penguins meeting killer whales in the Aquarium, dogs jumping over loo rolls.

Chanel Chanellington the escapee Scouse parrot – this is the news story of lockdown for me, a woman’s viral video of her shouting at people to find her lost parrot that had gone to the canal is a thing of undeniable beauty. There is a happy outcome and “Channnnnneeeeel” in a Scouse accent will forever have my heart.

Normal People on BBC iPlayer – I have the capacity to love fictional characters too much and that’s what I have done with this book and the series adapted from it. It stole my heart, soul and knickers. Marianne and Connell 4eva ❤

Crafts – I’ve done some truly awful drawings, made a card and used super glue to add glitter and inevitably glued my fingers together. I assembled a beautiful perspex rainbow made by my mate Fizz Goes Pop and used a pliers for the first time in my life. I’ve loved it!

The Bad

Mental health – I defy anyone to say that they’ve had a fantastic time throughout this period, you’d have to be a cyborg to have not felt down at least once. Our brains do not like this level of change coupled with a virus that is affecting everyone on the planet. It’s been hard to overcome my negative thoughts at times, clinging to them like they’re the only truth I have and letting them envelope me. Luckily I have good friends, crisps and books to see me through.

Productivity memes – I’ve seen so many BS memes telling me to ‘take care of myself’ and ‘learn a new skill’, ‘get up early’, ‘eat fruit’ and whatnot. Give it a rest mun, seriously, we’re in a global pandemic and if I want to get up late, learn nothing, eat a biscuit and just carry on with my day that’s good enough.

Lockdown norms – homemade bread, sourdough starter, wild garlic, pic of your legs in outside space looking like hot dogs, 5ks and maps, bookshelves, screenshot of zoom call, tik tok dances etc. Yes I’ve partaken in a fair few of these but honestly a lot of this stuff has made me feel like sh!t. Compare and despair has been real, what we curate vs reality is something to always keep in the back of your mind.

The Ugly

Death to Zoom – I cannot wait to see the back of this hideous platform, it sucks your life and soul from you without you immediately noticing. It can leave you feeling like you’ve had an uninvited lobotomy, be good to yourself before and after.

People – of course I have to put this in this column too, there are some absolute nasty pasties (as my Mam would say) making things a lot harder than they should be. Turds in government, floating about and pretending to be socialist, toilet paper and hand sanitiser guzzlers, pavement hoggers, social distance deniers, internet bullies, trolls and those who like Cats the Musical.

Human Poo – I saw a human poo in a doorway in the city centre which was really disconcerting, it was massive and a bit passive aggressive. It also made me realise that I have it very good in comparison to a lot of people. This virus has deeply affected those who are on the margins of society. Support, care and more will be harder to find so please think about making a donation to a refuge, homeless charity, refugee centre etc.

Emina Redzepovic is a freelance PR and communications specialist. Follow her – Emina Redzepovic website | Emina Redzepovic Twitter | Emina Redzepovic Instagram.

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Letters from Cardiff in lockdown: Anonymous #4

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Today’s instalment for the Letters from Cardiff in lockdown series comes from an anonymous keyworker . We’re looking for your stories, so please contribute to Letters from Cardiff in lockdown! 

Bute Park. Photo by We Are Cardiff

Lockdown Diaries

How is it when the world slows and stops, my world speeds up? As the nation was edging into lockdown my mind raced. The anxiety in my body peaked with racing thoughts; tense jaw and finger picking taken to extremes. Planning, watching, waiting, thoughts spinning. Sleepless nights from the worry of what will happen, who will die, what will life look like. The waiting, like a big inhale was dizzying. It felt like waiting for a car to crash or a wave to wash over me.

Then lockdown hit. And the calmness came. We were in. I rolled up my sleeves and expected long days.

As a keyworker, my work sped up like nothing else. Hours upon hours of planning, changing our systems and expecting a significant reduction in staff whilst maintaining a critical service. I could just about see a way forward, pulling together like a war time spirit.

The fear waiting for my loved ones and colleagues to get ill. Some of us did, like me, but we recovered. Was it Covid? Who knows? I’m still here. Life has carried on. For me anyway.

I struggle with anxiety. Most days. Every day actually. Its like I’m carrying a backpack of worries around that feel and look a lot like rocks. Sometimes I realise I have forgotten something, a rare moment of calm which makes me worry, then I pick up the bag. It’s my status quo, a soothing place to be. Calculating what dreadful things could happen and cringing of some of the things I’ve said or done. Worrying about the plans and decisions I made. Making myself promises I rarely keep. Tying myself into knots.

Six weeks into lockdown. I feel lighter, freer and I’m being so much kinder to myself. I’m working as much as ever. But the bag of rocks has been left at the door. Why do I waste so much time worrying? When sh*t gets real, I cope. I always do. Why don’t I believe in myself?

I’m calm and my thinking is sharper. I’m finding what I love, taking time for me. Gardening, red wine and reading books.  I’m spending a lot of time reflecting on who and what I am. And what I can be. How I can throw the rocks away and be kind to myself.

One big difference is my energy levels and motivation. Both are low. I find it hard working from home. Its so much more intense. I’m still skipping lunch breaks and don’t have enough hours in the day. I miss the routine of driving to work, blasting some tunes, grabbing a coffee. These routines transport me to work and home again.

Home was my sanctuary, my private space rarely interrupted. A place free from work. I always valued this separation. This has transformed.

My commute now is closing down the laptop and walking down the stairs.

I miss that golden moment when you have time off. The excitement from the sense of freedom, thinking of all the things you can. I value the time to recharge and just be me. But my work life balance is massively skewed now. At least I have a job, I recognise this.

I have realise I live a simple life and love simple pleasures. I miss my freedom to potter and ponder, seeing new places and going away. I am a free spirit and whilst I need routine, I find the lack of difference draining.

I miss my family and friends, but I know pragmatically they are safe and it’s for the best.

Some people close to me are ill, but what can I do? I have to stay strong. I cannot change a thing. I think I have found some inner peace whilst the world is in turmoil.

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Letters from Cardiff in lockdown: Alison Pritchard

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Today’s instalment for the Letters from Cardiff in lockdown series comes from Alison Pritchard. We’re looking for your stories, so please contribute to Letters from Cardiff in lockdown! 

Having lived in this part of the city for almost eight years, it turns out I have been drastically under-using my local area.

I’ve been at home, alone, since 16th March – a week before lockdown officially started. I was due to fly to Sri Lanka, a trip I had been planning for over a year, from Heathrow airport on Sunday 15th. Thankfully, I had spent a wonderful night in Birmingham the night before with my parents and brother to celebrate his 30th. I can often go weeks without seeing my family (spread as we are across Birmingham, Cardiff and Swansea), and I’m so glad we happened to spend that particular weekend together.

It had been a stressful weekend, trying to decide whether or not to even try and get to Sri Lanka; anxiously refreshing the websites of the travel agents, tour company and airline to see what the latest announcements were. Facing a loss of thousands of pounds if I chose not to go before it was cancelled, I tearfully waved goodbye to my parents and headed south to Heathrow. I was just passing Oxford when my brother rang me, and pulled into Oxford Services to confirm that Sri Lanka had indeed closed its borders, and the decision was taken out of my hands.

That was 58 days ago. I came back to Cardiff that night, but took a couple of days off work to recover from the stress, and actually have some of the 13 days holiday I was supposed to be enjoying. During those three days off I went to the beach at Ogmore and climbed Pen-y-Fan with a friend; making the most of being outside as much as possible. My plan had been to go back to the office on Thursday to see colleagues before a full lockdown was implemented, but the office closed on Wednesday. I already had what I needed to work from home as I was due to do so for a couple of days after my trip anyway. Thankfully, we have been moving towards being an online organisation, and switching to homeworking has been quite straightforward systems-wise.

I work as the Sustainable Funding Manager at WCVA: the membership body for charities in Wales.

Whilst I am beyond grateful to still be working, both for the financial stability and structure it gives to my week, work has been intense. The charity sector in the Wales is set to lose approximately £200m-£240m in income for the first three months of lockdown.

All physical fundraising activities and trading income stopped overnight when lockdown was implemented, at the same time that a majority of charities are seeing massive demands in their services, or set out to help the many members of our communities facing difficulties because of the virus. Like many parts of society, we know the charity sector will not look the same post-COVID-19 as it did before and we are working hard as an organisation to see the sector through this unprecedented (sorry) challenge.

Balancing this new way of working and the frantic pace at which things need to be done with looking after my own mental health has been key.

Two mantras have kept me going. The first has been doing the rounds on social media for these past few months: “it’s not just working from home, it’s working from home in a pandemic”. This is not usual, and it’s completely fine for us to not manage our usual levels of productivity every day, nevermind the levels being demanded from us by this … situation (I almost said the U word again).

The second needs to come with an acknowledgement that the NHS is a wondrous thing, and that we can never be grateful enough for the people on the frontlines of this awful virus. That said, for those of us without jobs in health and social care, the emergency services (or I guess the military), this is the best advice I was ever given to help stop work from taking over your life: “No one will die if you don’t do X”.

Keeping in mind that the world won’t stop turning if I don’t write that blog post, or send that email, or finish that report by 5pm has done me the world of good.

I think now, 58 days in, I’ve only had three or four properly low little stretches of time and I’m taking that as a win.

My overwhelming feeling of lockdown (those little low phases aside) has been gratitude. I am so grateful for my work, for the NHS, for the way swathes of our society have come together to help each other in their communities, for the people making tik-toks and performing home concerts and providing much needed entertainment, for the people on Instagram sharing their own struggles to help us all feel a bit less alone, for the Normal People boxset on iPlayer, for the colleague running Taskmaster for some of our team and for the friends checking up on me, participating in zoom socials and quizzes and making sure I’m not too lonely. I’m grateful that my need to be productive over the last decade has left me with a range of activities to keep me occupied at home, and in the case of baking and cooking, well fed. That said, it would be disingenuous not to admit to not getting round to sorting the two piles of filing that have been sat on my bedroom floor since January…

Lastly, but definitely not least, I am grateful for this city that we live in. The independent food scene in Cardiff is spectacular, and its been a great and selfish pleasure to support local businesses by making use of the delivery and collection services popping up from our favourites.

So far, I’ve ordered from Mr Croquewich, Heaney’s, and Dusty Knuckle, with Pettigrew Bakery next on my hitlist. Living in Whitchurch, I have easy access to the Taff Trail, Forest Farm Country Park (to use the full title I have recently discovered) and the Glamorganshire Canal Nature Reserve. Having lived in this part of the city for almost eight years, it turns out I have been drastically under-using my local area. Early lockdown walks and runs led me to discovering probably 70 per cent of the paths winding their way through forest land within the borders of Longwood Drive, Park Road, Velindre Road and the river (including the Northern Meadows, which I can’t believe anyone wants to build on). I’m choosing not to see those eight years as time lost, but to be thankful for how special it has been to discover such magical places during this unnerving and unexpected time.

Follow Alison on Twitter @alippritchard | Alison’s blog

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Letters from Cardiff in lockdown: Jen and Geraint

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Today’s instalment for the Letters from Cardiff in lockdown series comes from Jen and Geraint. We’re looking for your stories, so please contribute to Letters from Cardiff in lockdown! 

For all of the freelance artists, newly self employed and otherwise out there, I feel it’s important to highlight those of us who are falling through the cracks.

Lockdown front room studio

As I type, Geraint is downstairs drawing in the front room of our tiny Grangetown terrace. He’s in a makeshift lockdown studio that we thought would have a much faster expiry than the ten weeks it’s been in use.

In February, I gave up a truly rewarding full time (and the rest) job to ‘follow the dream’ as part time charity fundraiser and part time self employed photographer. I was fortunate enough to have booked several shoots for March, with a shoot for a ballet dancer planned for April that I was incredibly excited about. Then Coronavirus hit.

In February my partner Geraint, who is a freelance artist, lugged tubes of rolled drawings, frames and portfolios of his work on the bus from Cardiff to London (and even trickier across London) for an interview for his dream residency.

After a nerve wracking weekend awaiting news, Geraint was chosen for the SSE Power ‘Renewable Power for a Sustainable Future’ residency, giving him the opportunity to spend four weeks drawing and painting hydro and renewable energy production and the people making it happen in Scotland. His most recent body of work has celebrated volunteer groups in Wales that work hard to instil hope during times of political and climate disaster. His recent subjects include the Cardiff River Group, an amazingly hardy bunch that use scaffolds, nets and steely determination to scoop out all manner of disgustingness that ends up in the Taff and elsewhere (thanks you lot). He took great joy in drawing volunteers of the Woodland Trust planting trees in Brynau Wood in early March. Celebrating the efforts by large industries working towards a better future for us all was the perfect next step. He was over the moon about it. He would have been leaving to start his residency next week.

In April, Geraint should have launched an exhibition in Manchester University with Sue Williams and Terry Setch, and exhibited with painter Tim Patrick in London. All of his teaching sessions at the Royal Drawing School, Llanover Hall and other institutions have been cancelled. To say that we’ve had the rug pulled from under us in what would have been our most productive year yet is an understatement.

For all of the freelance artists, newly self employed and otherwise out there, I feel it’s important to highlight those of us who are falling through the cracks. Geraint has been freelance for two years now, with this set to be his first year pushing past the break even point and into profit. Because of this, Rishi’s offers of financial support, although great for some, won’t help us at all. We’re continually cut off when calling to talk to someone about Universal Credit, and when trying to contact Cardiff Council to get business rate relief on Geraint’s Canton studio that we’re still paying for in full, we’re given dead numbers. I have so much respect for all of our Council workers learning new skills, working in new roles and giving generous support during Coronavirus but we have got to get better at providing actual humans for people to raise queries with. Webpages are great, but they aren’t a substitute.

In juxtaposition, a truly amazing movement to come from the pandemic is the Artist Support Pledge started by Matthew Burrows. The pledge aims to be a self sustaining lifeline to artists across the world who have lost their livelihoods as a result of Coronavirus. The concept is simple; artists post works for sale for £200 and under using the hashtag #artistsupportpledge. When they reach £1000 in sales, they buy another artist’s work for £200. It means that well known artists can use their success to support hidden gems. As of 05/05/2020, over £20 million has been generated for artists across the globe via the pledge. This has been Geraint’s lifeline, and we’ve been overjoyed to see happy customers sending us photos of pieces they’ve bought arriving safely to their new homes. If you’re still being paid and have been waiting for the right time to start an art collection, let me tell you, this is it. The work that people are offering via the pledge is amazing value and collectors are right to snap them up.

We’re not having the Spring/Summer of work that we intended, but being restricted has forced us to experiment. Geraint’s lofty studio in Canton allows him to make large scale drawings and installation, so watching domestic space restrictions coerce him into making smaller scale work in different mediums has been fascinating. Unable to continue with his work documenting volunteer groups, the content of his work has changed. He’s using his domestic experiences and public health advice as inspiration. His 8 Durer inspired drawings of the NHS hand washing guidelines that he’s made this month are a particularly striking document of this period in our lives.

Public health advice given a fine art makeover

I’m having a prolific time documenting Grangetown, Cardiff Bay and our domestic experiences using digital, 35mm and medium format cameras. Being stationery in Cardiff long enough to watch wildflowers grow, pick wild garlic, watch local systems develop to deal with the virus and eat regularly with my partner who is usually at the studio, or commuting to London or elsewhere for work, has been a replenishing luxury. The smell of Cardiff without cars and pollution has transported me to my childhood.

Lockdown birthday party

We’ve celebrated our 15 year anniversary in our living room and had both our birthdays during lockdown, sharing cake and songs with family via screens.

For my birthday, much to Geraint’s dismay, I wafted a tea under his nose at 4am and we used our hour of daily exercise to shoot a Pre-Raphaelite meets Midsummer’s Night Dream inspired dreamscape. Sneaking into Insole Court at 5am half asleep in our formal wear with bluebells, foxgloves and rhododendrons for company as dawn broke was truly magical. On a good day, being held down by the ankles by restriction will make you jump higher. I will treasure those images forever.

Jen’s birthday photo shoot

Having my feet firmly planted in my own locality has given a beautiful opportunity to foster community.

I’ve met two locals via a plant swap organised by the capitalism defying Liz and Michelle of Growing Street Talk – join their Facebook page to meet neighbours and green fingered skills. I’m about to put a load of vegetable plants outside my front door for people to take or swap. For the first time ever we have flowers planted in our garden. This is due to the generosity of Be More Squirrel and Cardiff Council who have given their stock to communities whilst they’ve been unable to sell it. Watching the bees enjoy the Senetti has been an incredible mental boost on difficult days. I despair for those without gardens during lockdown every day.

It has been an absolute joy to watch the surge in volunteering in Cardiff, Wales and beyond. As someone who has been working for charities that rely on people’s better natures for eight years, I see this as one of the single most hopeful outcomes for the future.

Watching friends and strangers who aren’t shielding grow and participate in ‘Feed the NHS’, PPE sewing and other local initiatives has been awe inspiring.

With a parent over 70, Grandparents in a residential home and friends and family who are immunocompromised, we have the same worries as everyone else. Bumping into my brother who also lives in Grangetown without being able to give him a hug is confusing at best, heartbreaking at worst. I’m grateful for Geraint, and by luck, we haven’t had any morale dips at the same time, one always managing to restore the other. We try to find things to celebrate everyday, even if it’s only a new specie of bird visiting the feeder. Spending time in, and observing nature has been the most beneficial activity during lockdown and an RSPB bird spotting book and binoculars has proven to be essential kit. We’re lucky to have Cardiff Bay Barrage, Leckwith Woods, Cathays, Victoria and Bute Park within walking distance.

Daily exercise – Cardiff Bay barrage

Cardiff’s ecosystems have given resplendent displays without pollutants and micromanagement: perfectly manicured parks have turned to wildflower meadows and colourful floral displays have burst into show, to the complete surprise of long term homeowners taking a break from mowing front lawns. When the world is half asleep is when nature’s magic happens. I cross my fingers that we as individuals and Cardiff as a Council will use nature’s blue print to radically re-green our city. I hope people remember to be as fiercely protective of their independents as they’ve proven to be during lockdown, even with the temptation of re-opened big business conveniences. I hope that we’ll see kindness, generosity and community spirit continue to flourish once we’re as we move into different stages of the pandemic. On a personal note I hope myself and Geraint can continue to stay afloat, stay safe and find inspiration within restriction.

Written 19/05/2020. Follow Jen Abell on Twitter / Jen Abell Instagram. Follow Geraint Ross Evans at his website / Geraint Ross Evans on Instagram /  Geraint Ross Evans on Facebook.

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