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Letters from Cardiff in lockdown: Catrin Mari

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

The natural world can be a source of solace during times of crisis, Sir David Attenborough has said.

A source of solace.

Source, Soar, Saw.

During the pandemic, photographing nature has been a gentle comfort to me. I don’t even have a camera, but I’ve learnt to make the most of the camera on my phone; like I’ve made the most of what I have in the house, digging in the freezer for dinner: using what I have.

Until April, I was still working full time, playing a small role in helping to keep children safe during this strange time. After two weeks of sick leave in March, I returned to the office.  (I had  probably been ill with the virus- at one point I found it difficult to breathe. In retrospect I didn’t take things seriously enough, just assumed I’d be fine because I’m young- we now know how naive and reckless that was…)

My first day back at work  was frightening- the city centre was a wasteland, my colleagues were understandably anxious – I felt overwhelmed and afraid. How do we carry on as normal in our new reality?

I trudged each day to work and back, secretly glad that this gifted me with more time in the fresh air. Space held for spring and its light- usually heavy with sleepy commuters.

An ebb and flow formed each day,  as I retraced routes/roots of blossom trees- their flowers cheering me where I might not have noticed them before.  I began to take note of small details of my commute – the signs of spring contrasted with the undercurrent of fear that I couldn’t quite shake off. The routine of walking to work and back gave this period of time a rhythm, for which I felt tentatively grateful. I wasn’t quite sure if I’d rather be carrying on as usual…

At lunchtime, I walked to the water. Cormorants congregated there- sunning themselves and posing in the light. I took time to adjust them into the frame- hoping that they didn’t move. There was a  small joy in capturing their daily dances- wings outstretched, feet flitting, across the face of stirred water. I felt so grateful that I worked in Cardiff Bay and that nature was never that far away- it was a balm during an uncertain time.

In the evening I  discovered new routes / roots of lily pads swaying; and nature insisting its way through the city. Boys sat and cooed with joy at these tiny creatures: a cluster of ducklings, obediently following their mother. I saw how our reduced circumstances gently pressed our gazes towards tiny slivers of delight / rivers, where once we would have darted past them: between office blocks. To break the routine, I found new routes home, uncovering fresh delights in a city I thought I knew.

What I saw gave structure in solitude- a sense of rhythm- clicking, clacking- a flow of footsteps- pauses, as I took stock and watched : willing images to life. Photography had become my solace.

Unfortunately, I lost my job in April due to circumstances beyond my control or that of my employer. I spent a birthday alone – the first ever without my twin sister. Video calls with friends made me feel connected – I thought about how we may be isolated in houses, but the geography of our city still holds us together – there’s a road between my flat and my friend’s house two streets away. Small parcels arrived in the post- precious presents, linking me to loved ones.

Searching for new routes for my daily walk, I’ve uncovered new areas of my local community in Roath. I’ve captured on camera small details I usually would have overlooked- the blaring red of an ornate post box, coots tending their nest. I’ve been lucky to be able to  support local businesses- gifting the money I’m not spending on catching up with friends in cafes- cooling teas forgotten as we absorb ourselves in conversation.

In October, I will start a postgraduate course at Cardiff University. These months feel like a pause- an intake of breath before the bustle of my life in the next few years. Although the comforting paper-smell of a physical library seems so far away at the moment, having something to look forward to has helped me to remain calm.

I hope that taking photos and taking note of the small details of nature are both things that I can take with me into postgraduate life- I hope that they continue to console me, and help to remember the important things.

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Letters from Cardiff in lockdown: Heledd Francis

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

Before the lockdown we saw family every week and missing them has certainly been the hardest part.

We are now in week eight of lockdown, and I feel that to some extent that it’s taken us as a family this long to get into the swing of things. In the weeks beforehand, I was fiercely optimistic about how we would handle it, created a timetable of daily activities for myself and the children, imagined the books I would read and the new dishes I would cook, and resolved to make this a positive time for family.

A few days in, and I realised the reality would be different. With my husband at work as usual from Monday to Friday, working at the Heath, it felt like a rainy day during a school holiday, but with the added pressures of completing my own work and some work for the children.

I swung from feeling extreme pride that we were a household of two key workers, to guilt for sending our children to an unfamiliar school on the few occasions per week where I myself went to work in an unfamiliar school. I resented my husband somewhat for having to make very little change to his daily life, but then worried about him as more and more staff at UHW began to become infected. I kept trying to remind myself that we were lucky to have some semblance of a routine along with job stability but also fretted about the risk associated with our work.

But then a few weeks in, my daughter’s fifth birthday arrived. With it, came a change in pace, and a time to reflect on how different didn’t necessarily mean difficult. With no party to plan or family to accommodate, we asked her what she wanted for her special day. It was simple, she wanted pictures of family put up around the house, toasted marshmallows, and a piñata. We added in a few extras – a kitchen disco with face paints and a sing-a-long family zoom. Despite missing family and friends, it was a brilliant day.

From that day on, we relieved the pressure.

I began to follow the advice I was giving my own students, to attempt little and often with regards to school work, focussing on the essential skills.

We got into the swing of cooking together on the days that I was at home, and sending weekly post to grandparents and cousins that we missed terribly. We used the weekends for family bike rides and films, and appreciated the simple things – a garden, sunshine, birds stealing grass seeds from our undernourished lawn, packages in the post from friends.

The week before lockdown, our son was due to go into hospital for an operation to insert grommets. We expected the operation to be cancelled, and completely understood when we received confirmation that it was. I worried somewhat that it could now be another year before he was able to have the operation, and that his hearing and speech would continue to be an issue for him. It may be that this would have happened anyway, but we have really noticed that his speech has improved significantly over the past few weeks, a result perhaps of being at home and constantly listening to and speaking to his sister and I. This has been an unexpected lockdown positive!

Another lockdown positive has been the Zoom calls with friends far and wide. It’s taken a pandemic for my university crew to arrange a transatlantic virtual drink and we can’t understand why we didn’t do it sooner. The children have engaged in similar conversations with their friends, which they find difficult, but they enjoy seeing each other’s faces at least.

Before the lockdown we saw family every week and missing them has certainly been the hardest part. We send daily videos and have all planted seeds with the idea that as the flowers grow, the time we are back together will get closer (I can’t take the credit for this idea).

Although I work in a Hub school once or twice a week, this is based on a rota system. I miss my wonderful colleagues, but a weekly staff quiz over zoom helps with the lack of contact.

Despite my profession, I find homeschooling as frustrating as the rest of the population. My daughter in particular regularly wants to cycle past her school to remind her of her happy times there and to look forward to going back. All the staff at the children’s school have worked incredibly hard over the past few months to ensure that there are plenty of resources available for the children, they’ve provided regular feedback and reward points and spoken to them over the phone. They’ve even posted videos of themselves introducing activities to encourage the pupils. One two minute video of their wonderful teachers has inspired them far more over the past few weeks than their mother’s homeschooling has!

Grangetown in particular has shown an incredible sense of community during these difficult times. Everyone seems to be supporting their neighbours more than ever, but the visits from ‘Spiderman’ to make the children smile, a ‘plant swap’ for residents, free Candyfloss Fridays for children, Ramadan Relief food packages and the set up of the Grangetown Covid Mutual Aid to help those self-isolating receive food and medicines are a few of the wonderful things happening in our local community.

I often find myself using the phrase ‘when all this is over’ these days. When all this is over, I’m sure we will remember and continue the sense of community that this pandemic has encouraged. The world around us looks particularly beautiful at this moment in time, and I hope that we can continue to work together to keep it that way.

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Letters from Cardiff in lockdown: Owen

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

Side plank tip: keep your hips high enough for a mid sized dog to rest her chin on your hips…

At 5:30pm on the evening of March 20 – a day before my birthday – I heard that our business was being shut down.

I moved back to Cardiff about five years ago to open The Studio. Previously, I ran my own personal training business in London, but slowly became increasingly disillusioned with the traditional gym model. The fitness industry is guilty of peddling dangerous fads and useless quick fixes. At The Studio we strive to offer the highest standard of training in a welcoming, boutique environment for all ages, genders and abilities. We opened in November 2016 and our community has grown ever since. We’re more than a gym, we’re working on linking the medical and fitness communities, working alongside GPs, Women’s Health Physios and Musculoskeletal Physios.
Especially under the current circumstances, we believe gyms need to offer more than the typical ’12 Week Transformation’. (100 burpies and that nauseous feeling after a workout isn’t ‘health and fitness’, that’s a PT trying to warrant their hourly rate by making you sweat, subsequently making you feel like you’ve worked hard.) This is so far removed from what we should be offering. We have a responsibility to help clients achieve their goals in a sustainable, intelligent way, helping them develop lifelong habits of healthy eating and regular exercise.

We’ve only ever had one goal at The Studio: to provide the highest quality training and customer service with honesty and integrity. And this is the first time that we find ourselves without any certain future.

I did the only thing I could at the time and distributed my equipment as fairly as possible between clients. The response was as overwhelming as it was unexpected. It struck me that many clients chose to take a barbell, when only a few months ago, they’d never even used one.

I’ve come to realise the connection my members have with a barbell. Those who have been training for any length of time appreciate its importance.

Many clients have achieved things they never thought they were capable of under a barbell. They’ve grown stronger, happier, healthier and more able. The barbell is a tool to maintain and improve health, and clients knew this would be threatened if they were forced to stop training.

My members’ unwavering support has been incredible, the generosity of continued monthly payments for the month of April, the purchase of credit packages, the offer of marketing help and even the offer of video editing. Looking around at my empty gym, after all my equipment had disappeared to grateful members, I realised that our clients’ connection with The Studio was stronger than I’d ever imagined. The response to online training and our latest program has been overwhelming. As a coach, you dedicate yourself to helping people achieve things they’ve never thought physically possible, and knowing that our clients have discovered something that they love, I am reassured that our small community of lifters will be there when this is all over.

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The People

Letters from Cardiff in lockdown: David, Pettigrew Bakeries

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Today’s instalment for the Letters from Cardiff in lockdown series comes from David Le Masurier of Pettigrew Bakeries. Please follow and support them as they keep you fed and in bread! We’re looking for your stories, so please contribute to Letters from Cardiff in lockdown! 

So we’ve been doing home deliveries for a while now.

We’ve had a lot of people ordering care packages, birthday gifts as well as essentials for themselves.

Last week, as we were finalising the daily orders for delivery, we spotted two identical addresses just the letter of the flat being different on each order. They were both for the same day and same building, but two different orders placed by two different people for two different addressees. To add to the coincidence they were both surprise birthday gifts, one for flat A and one for flat B.

When we got to the building to deliver there was only one buzzer, upon pressing it a voice answered and explained that both flat A and B share the same buzzer (weird) so who did we want for delivery? We explained, ‘well both of you!’

A few minutes later two strangers who live next door and share a door buzzer were both given birthday gift packages from Pettigrew Bakeries from their two friends, who also don’t know each other!

We all smiled, laughed a bit and they went back into their building wishing each other happy birthday and getting to know each other (at a safe distance).

A beautiful, random, brilliant little coincidence in this grim situation.

David (Pettigrew Bakeries)

Pettigrew Bakeries is the sister to Pettigrew Tearooms. An independent artisan bakery, baking real bread (really, really tasty bread!). They also stock a number of products from other Cardiff independent producers. Please PLEASE visit their website, order tasty treats from them, go visit their store in Victoria Park. Support our amazing local independents!

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Letters from Cardiff in lockdown: Pete Sueref

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

Nurses? Forget nurses. They should give me a medal for being locked up with three kids for the last eight weeks. I mean honestly. It’s fine for Mr and Mrs Sourdough Starter and their darling cat, but for us parents, especially us SINGLE PARENTS, lockdown is literally hell. (Yes, literally. Not figuratively. This is actually what hell would be like for me).

It’s not that I don’t love my kids. There’s an expression – love the people, hate the job, right? But have you actually met kids? They’re awful. Just the worst possible humans to be stuck with for an hour, let alone 24 hours, every day, without a let up. Needy, whining, bickering, gross. If you’re thinking of having kids, then DON’T. (Note to We Are Cardiff editors – could we link to a contraceptive provider here?)

(Note from the We Are Cardiff editors: normally we don’t insert ourselves into stories if we can help it, but actually this is a good link, bookmark it kids! Cardiff and Vale UHB Sexual Health info).

Today, this happened at breakfast: My three year old, who can most kindly be described as unhinged, was eating his Rice Crispies. His six-year-old sister decided, for reasons, that she had to have a poached egg for breakfast. Not a fried egg, not a scrambled egg. Poached.

For the childless, it’s worth mentioning that each interaction with your little angel has the potential to turn into a battle. Small decisions, like which colour dress to wear, whether or not to go to the toilet before getting in the car, or how to cook an egg, take on a level of seriousness and import usually more suited to high-level government meetings (I say usually. Not really the case with the current mob; their main decisions seem to be how to pick the policy which causes the most needless death and suffering and then figuring out how to lie about it.)

As with Boris’s daily briefings, every conversation with your child has the potential to end in confusion and tears.

At nine in the morning, after 50-plus monotonous breakfasts in a row, you have to decide if this is really the hill you want to die on. On the one hand: give-in, show weakness to the enemy and then suffer a conflict over every breakfast to come. On the other hand, play hardball, announce to the room that “we don’t negotiate with terrorists” and serve up a hot dish of justice-flavoured scrambled eggs with a side-order of tantrum.

Dear reader, you know the punchline. After some tears and some stern words (from her to me), the poached eggs were served. The previously quietly chomping three-year-old took the opportunity to tell his big sister that he hated the smell of eggs. And by association hated her. Violence was in the air. Their eight-year-old brother, displaying admirable neutrality to that point, decided to play both sides like a cold war double-agent, announcing that he, too, hated the smell of eggs (thus lending credibility to the accusation), but also that despite this hatred he would tolerate it because he was older and “not a baby”. This final remark was the spark that ignited the powder keg, and moments later both the Rice Crispies and Poached Egg were no more. Spilt and splattered, like a metaphor for my family, indeed, for the nation! What joys will lunch bring? God only knows…

And this is just one small incident in five minutes of one day. Repeat this over and over and over again, every day, with no let up, no respite and limited alcohol. A medal, please. A big one. Made of gold.

Lest you all consider me a terrible parent and a terrible person (I won’t try to defend myself against either accusation), I should point out that I have been home-schooling diligently throughout, although we have deviated from the curriculum recently. My eldest is now learning about political revolutions in preparation for the post-COVID world that may emerge. His Machiavellian instincts, practised on his siblings, put in him in a good position to be the next Washington (or more likely Robespierre). My daughter has learnt to read which is a genuine delight, undermined only slightly by her absolute lack of desire to read anything not on an iPad.

My youngest has been building more and more elaborate shapes and patterns out Magna-Tiles. He may be trying to summon some kind of demon. I’ve decided to leave him to it.

It should go without saying that clearly we are in an immensely fortunate position – none of us are ill, none of our family or friends have been seriously affected and my wonderful employers have taken pity on me and allowed me to mostly forget about work and focus on taking care of my children. A word also for my wonderful mum who’s been living with us for the last five months, cannot possibly have expected to be locked up with small children again and has dealt with events like most Greek mothers in a crisis: cleaning and cooking constantly.

And there are some small pleasures to be had, particularly as a runner (I know – you already thought me insufferable, but a runner, too!).

Jogging the full length of Waterloo Road right in the middle of the street with no traffic is still weirdly fun. And crossing the normally log-jammed Newport Road whenever and however I like will be sorely missed once the world returns to normal.

And of course, loudly tutting all the people ignoring the one-way system around Roath Park almost makes the whole catastrophe worth it. Almost.

Anyway. After all that, I don’t actually want a medal. What I’d really prefer is for people to stop dying needlessly. I want doctors and nurses and carers and especially teachers to be paid a lot more. And for a kinder, better world to emerge at the other end.

But mostly, I just want this hell to end, all of us to be safe and happy and to have some time away from my fucking kids.

Before Pete became a full-time quaranteacher and part-time alcoholic, he worked in data science for Centrica. He hopes one day to return…

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Letters from Cardiff in lockdown: Debbie

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Today’s instalment for the Letters from Cardiff in lockdown series comes from Debbie, who writes about being pregnant during the lockdown. We’re looking for your stories, so please contribute to Letters from Cardiff in lockdown! 

Spending the final weeks of my first pregnancy in isolation with my husband wasn’t quite what we’d had planned.

The diary was full of grown-up activities we might struggle to enjoy for a bit – meals out, evening drinks with friends, visits to my family in Kent (a 4 hour drive away), cinema trips, my brother’s 30th, a Christmas present of stargazing in the Brecon Beacons and our first wedding anniversary celebrations.

Covid-19 had other ideas though and in the run up to lockdown one by one the cancellation emails arrived. Then the announcement that pregnant women were in the vulnerable category and should self-isolate meaning I’d spent my last day in the office without even knowing it and hadn’t said bye to anyone. Initially I felt really upset about missing all these things I’d been looking forward to doing. When would I next see friends from work? How were we going to meet new parents if our NCT classes didn’t go ahead? Would the hospitals be overrun?

Then came a reality check about how lucky we are. We’re fortunate to work for Principality Building Society, a company which immediately let staff know that no one would be furloughed and changed its operations to support working from home for nearly everyone. We could both do our jobs remotely with surprising ease and that comfortable chair I’d bought for feeding the baby could be used immediately at my new make-shift desk. We work together normally so the adjustment to spending a lot of time with each other during the day was easy although we did set up in separate rooms to avoid hearing each other on calls saying phrases like “let’s drilldown on that” or “going forward…”.

We have a home we love and being there 24/7 meant we had more time to crack on with the jobs that needed sorting before the baby arrived. We tried to pace them out to break up the first few weekends. Soon the nursery was decorated, the wardrobes were full on Marie Kondo bliss, the bathroom cupboards an oasis of organisation. Who knew you could hoard so many half-used bottles of moisturiser?

Our NCT classes went ahead virtually and it wasn’t the crackly, awkward experience I’d feared. Everyone was lovely and we could chat in smaller breakout rooms on Zoom, view the information slides and laugh on mute between the two of us about the hilarious grey(?) knitted (?!) breast used to demonstrate breast feeding without anyone else being able to hear.

We also signed up for hypnobirthing with Claire from Yumi Yoga to help prep for the birth better. I hadn’t been feeling anxious about it but the news that the mid-wife led unit at the Heath had been closed (it’s now back open) and that we wouldn’t be able to stay together for some parts of labour, or if I needed to stay in after the birth, had made me feel less in control. The three sessions, run successfully on Zoom, were really helpful and allowed us to meet another friendly group of very local parents too.

Most significantly all the fun activities we’d had planned could still be achieved with a bit of forethought. The independent restaurants of Cardiff have done an amazing job diversifying their businesses to protect staff and customers but still be able to trade.

Paella made with fish from Ashtons and Spanish ingredients from Curado

We’ve had some splendid romantic dinner takeaways from Heaney’s, Bully’s, Dusty Knuckle, Leyli Joon, Hoof, Matsudai Ramen, Da Ling Kitchen and Mr Croquewich. We’ve also been able to get food delivered without relying on the supermarkets where we could never get a slot. Fresh veg every week from Paul’s Organic Veg, fresh meat and eggs from Oriel Jones and fish from Ashtons, cheese from Ty Caws, tapas treats from Curado, bread and amazing brownies from Pettigrew Bakery. Being able to cook proper meals has helped make things feel a bit more like normal even if you do have to get a bit creative to use up some of the random veg.

Salad made with veg from the veg box and Ty Caws cheese!

We’ve got subscriptions so we could still watch films and binge on box sets. My parents got Facebook so we could video call (albeit with a six second delay due to their appalling bandwidth). We did virtual pub quizzes and an escape room. I started a book club with my octogenarian granny, sister and mum. If anything I was too busy!

Family zoom session!

It’s fair to say the video chat fatigue has set in a bit. Now our classes are finished we’re taking a complete break from video calls next week. After all it might be our last one as a twosome before the baby arrives and we’ve got another “new normal” to adjust to.

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Letters from Cardiff in lockdown: Ashley West

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

Bute Park. Photo by We Are Cardiff

My anxiety was waiving
My isolation already grown
As we entered into lockdown;
I felt even more alone.

One daily routine of exercise
Didn’t seem to change
The way in which I was feeling
In a world that turned so strange.
Our worlds got flipped, turned upside down,
It happened overnight.
No one could have predicted
That we would ever face this fight.
Each day brings on new worries
As I sit and hear the news.
But I’ve had to try to distance myself
As our leaders set out to confuse.
I work from home to bring normality,
To keep a routine, I’d guess you’d say.
But each morning I get up I think
“Here’s another struggle today.”
So many lives are being lost.
Groceries we had to ration.
It has spread through the world like wildfire
This virus has no compassion.
However, positives are being seen
As the world now starts to heal.
Pollution slowed, travel stopped,
Although still does not feel real.
Even though this has been tough,
This storm we can weather.
As communities have rallied round
Showing we can all get through this together.
Ash
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The People

The Welsh Blood Service needs you!

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Taking a brief break today from the Letters from Lockdown, we bring you this plea for help from the Welsh Blood Service.

The Welsh Blood Service needs to collect 350 units of blood every day to supply the 19 hospitals in Wales, which is a tough ask during the lockdown. At present only THREE PERCENT of the population donate blood. We need more of you than this!

Sobering stats. Get your butts out to donate! Donating blood is considered essential travel, so you can safely travel to any donation location.  

At the moment they can only accept donors with an appointment, so if you’re keen to donate, please head to the Welsh Blood Service website, register with them and make yourself an appointment.

It’s essential people continue to donate so patients can receive the treatment they need. YOUR BLOOD WILL BE SAVING LIVES! The WBS have taken extra measures to ensure donors and staff are safe while in clinic: read more about that here – Welsh Blood Service – coronavirus.

If you’ve been trying to book an appointment in Cardiff but haven’t found one yet, good news! The Welsh Blood Service will be visiting Plasnewydd Community Centre for five extra days from 1-5 June. They’re looking for people to donate, so please head over to the Welsh Blood Service website, register and book an appointment.

And because we don’t just preach, we practise too, Helia from the We Are Cardiff crew is heading out to give blood next week, and because she is 100% dedicated to life in the Matrix (and to try and encourage more of you to do it) she’ll be posting the whole thing LIVE on we WAC socials. Head to the We Are Cardiff Instagram on Wednesday 27 May for the full bloody Monty.

GET IN TOUCH WITH THE WELSH BLOOD SERVICE:

COVID-19 – CARDIFF CORONAVIRUS LOCKDOWN RESOURCES ON WE ARE CARDIFF:

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Letters from Cardiff in lockdown: Abbie Morgan

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

“2020 is going to be my year!” is the statement I made to friends at the end of January. So many other humans had used that phrase before me that it caused an eye roll for most, but I was trying to persuade myself that this would be the case. Moving to a new house, getting back to the person I have always been after the end of a really tough relationship and as I went through February and the start of March, it really felt like I was on track to make the most of that statement. Then came lockdown.

At the first suggestion of some time working from home, I was apprehensive but at the same time believed I could use the time wisely. I bought art supplies in the week running up to my last day in the office and reassured myself that I would be completely fine, knowing full well that loneliness had caused so many mental health issues in the past. Turns out I have done very little drawing or painting but taking photographs has definitely become a thing. Its almost like I have been trying to document what’s been happening to us all with the least amount of mental/physical effort.

Then the day came, as part of my job I had to make sure a few others in the office were okay before leaving. Little did I know that 7/8 weeks later I would miss their faces so much.

Working from home is okay… Just okay I’m afraid. One great piece of advice from my best friend was to make an office space so I could feel like I was in a work environment, not just curled up on the sofa every day or worse still, not getting out of bed other than to eat. My little breakfast bar is the spot, but it means sitting on a bar stool type chair every day leading to having to get up and stretch A LOT.

I have two cats as my isolation buddies and, If I am completely honest, are a great source of company despite sleeping for most of the day. They keep me in a routine and force me to get up at 5am to be fed. If you have ever experienced two cats screaming in your face at that time of day, you will know it is definitely a sound you cannot ignore. This in turn has led to me heading out for a run first thing in the morning and making the most of Cardiff Bay at that time of day. I stop at points on the route each time to take a photo or two and share them on my Instagram stories for those who sleep way past sunrise.

During this whole situation there has been the question of dating. I went on a few dates prior to lockdown being in full force and it was great to have the idea of getting to know someone new.

Dealing with what is now lovingly known as the new normal whilst trying to date or connect with someone new throws up all sorts of challenges. How many messages a day is reasonable? How much do you need to share about your boring day in the flat? How do you know if you actually like this person or how much do they like you without being in each other’s company? Is this just a lockdown thing or are the plans you have made for later this year real or just a fantasy?

It’s a mental health nightmare, especially for an overthinker like myself. All I can say is that the idea of company at the end of a phone from someone who thinks enough of you to reply is a nice feeling. Maybe it’ll be something or, maybe it’ll be a strange version of a holiday romance and once lockdown changes, their attention will head back to their life before. Either way, a connection with someone who you are slowly getting know, a message or call at a time, has allowed me to dream about a time without restrictions.

My favourite personal challenge during this time has been to post a photo of all the outfits I have decided to wear. It has to be plural as I often feel the need for a costume change half way through a day. I have spent 17 years collecting so many different items of clothing from vintage fairs, charity shops and even some expensive gowns for posh events in the past. Most have only seen the light of day once so it felt like a good time to show them off. There have been fancy dress Zoom parties and dressing up for VE day which have been little excuses to dig right to the back of the wardrobe for something special.

As I write this, I am currently wearing outfit 65.. and still have, I think, at least another 30 days’ worth to go. I honestly do not want this lock down to continue until I run out of clothes, but I get the feeling that may well be the case!

Follow Abbie on Instagram @babos87 

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Letters from Cardiff in lockdown: Jill Berrett

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

Lockdown for me, far from limiting my life, has opened up a certain freedom and new opportunities which have given me back something of what I had lost.

One of the strangest aspects of lockdown for me has been so many people in the UK and around the world, joining in my lifestyle – one of having to stay at home. Although nothing like COVID-19, I know how a virus can devastate and change a life beyond recognition.

Over 30 years ago I got up one morning to get ready for work and collapsed. I could not move part of my body, and was hospitalised in the Heath where they thought initially that I had had a stroke.

Eventually after blood tests a viral attack was diagnosed from which after years of struggle I have only partially recovered with my mobility becoming increasingly poor over the years. Initially I kept trying to work and be active but I kept getting more ill, having been diagnosed with M.E. There was no treatment and it was some time before I realised how much I had to give up in order to rest and try to build some energy as I was running on empty.

Following a fall five years ago, I was diagnosed with osteoporosis and despite having no further falls I now have five fractures in my spine which led to my becoming, a year ago, a wheelchair user and mostly housebound.

Lockdown for me, far from limiting my life, has opened up a certain freedom and new opportunities which have given me back something of what I have lost.

Fewer cars on the roads has made a huge difference. I am not in the shielded group, and I can get out in the wheelchair using the roads, now shared with mobility scooters and cyclists – a joy. The pavements in my area are unusable for wheelchairs, being uneven and broken, usually leaving me marooned in the house. I can still drive a little but I have to be surrounded by cushions, it’s painful, and worsens my back.

Now my partner can push me down the road from home to use the paths along Roath Brook with me shouting ‘pothole ahead’! We can be amongst beautiful mature trees, clear water, ducks, squirrels and an ever increasing range of birds in just a few minutes.  As we pass dog walkers, people with buggies etc, all social distancing, there are lots of smiles and ‘hellos’.

Visiting the park

I am a member of Roath Writers and an Ekphrastic writing group and used to love going to meetings but as I became weaker and my back became fragile and painful making it difficult to sit in ordinary hard backed chairs I could no longer go to them.

Now I can attend a poetry book launch with others on Zoom, enjoy daily readings of Wordsworth poems by a variety of people recognising the remarkable voice of Leslie Caron at 88 years, as the 250th anniversary of his birth moves online.

I will also be able to attend The Hay Literature Festival as it moves online. I used to visit regularly until my mobility became too poor and access was too difficult. Now I will be able to share this with others again.

For the first two weeks of lockdown my greatest worry was getting food, as I was used to ordering nearly everything online for delivery into the house being unable to do my own shopping. Suddenly I couldn’t get supermarket delivery slots and the Welsh organic company that used to deliver regularly could not continue to provide this service.

But gradually with a lot of hanging on the phone I got online slots restored and my local Beanfreaks have been brilliant at a busy time for staff, taking orders by phone and my partner can pick them up. And since then a lot of other companies who didn’t usually deliver have started to do so and I have a larger choice than in the past.

I have long appreciated my garden as I can get outside easily but never have I been so grateful for it as during lockdown. Freed up from FOMO, feeling that everyone else is having a busy active time that I can’t participate in and that I ‘should’ be doing more useful things. I feel that pressure less, my health has improved and I’m enjoying my third lockdown novel.

My deep hope is that as the lockdown is eased and people can return to their former lifestyles, opportunities to participate online will continue for disabled people and others.

I am a member of a global organisation called Millions Missing and this week is M.E. Awareness Week. Now more than ever we need more investment in biomedical research and treatment for this long neglected illness, and education for health workers as after this pandemic there is a real likelihood of more people struggling to recover from COVID-19 and having M.E.

Jill Berrett has lived in Cardiff for 40 years, having come from London to work in Cardiff Law Centre. She is now a writer and campaigner.

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The People

Letters from Cardiff in lockdown: Claire Ait-Hammi, The Med Shed

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Today’s instalment for the Letters from Cardiff in lockdown series comes from Claire Ait-Hammi of The Med Shed. We’re looking for your stories, so please contribute to Letters from Cardiff in lockdown! 

One thing I am absolutely loving at the moment is getting to know our local community a lot more. Usually I am dashing to work/from work/running after the kids/working at weekends, so I am really loving being able to take leisurely walks in our local area of Penylan.

So here’s my summary of my life so far in lockdown – as a mum to Zach (nine) and Sophia (seven), wife (to Nabil), full-time employee and co-owner of a small food business.

Even though it seems we were following the spread of COVID-19 for ages, and lockdown was inevitable, it still came on a bit sudden. One minute I was in the office, Nabil was at work, the kids at school. Next minute routine was completely out the window as I enjoyed a delicious amount of free time with Nabil and the kids but was the only one who had to get up the next day to work.

Anyway after a few weeks I started to get into the rhythm of things a little bit. Nabil and I were tinkering with various projects in the house, starting painting and tidying jobs that were well overdue.

Zach and Sophia were enjoying (and still very much are), the freedom of childhood not currently bound by strict timetabling and ferrying from one extracurricular activity to the other.

Unfortunately we are not the type of people happy to tinker in the house for very long. Despite working full-time, our weekends are usually busy with events for our street food business – The Med Shed.  At first I was enjoying the freedom of evenings and weekends at home, but we quickly became bored.

We started to see fellow food businesses branch out into other ventures – including offering meals to NHS workers and offering a takeaway service.

We approached a charity based in West Wales – FeedtheNHSWales and began supplying meals to our hardworking NHS staff in Cardiff and Llandough. It can be tough coming up with suitable meals – considering reheating, presentation and flavour – but we’ve had some great feedback so far.

It certainly presented a new and exciting challenge doing bulk catering from a domestic registered premises!  Meals that we have provided so far include:

  • Poulet Roti with Pommes Lyonnaise
  • Algerian Meatballs & Couscous
  • Tchakchouka & Couscous
  • Chicken Shawarma Wraps
  • Falafel Wraps
  • Butternut Squash & Goat’s Cheese Lasagne
  • Goats Cheese & Caramelised Onion Tartlet.

Nabil is Algerian, so our street food is usually heavily influenced by North Africa, but we decided to create a Mediterranean name and theme to enable us to offer dishes from all over the Med and experiment with different cuisine.

One week in to providing meals for the NHS we got the fever and started to offer takeaway delivery service to locals on a Saturday. We usually take orders during the week and offer a Saturday night delivery. This is going very well and has certainly been a huge learning curve taking on different aspects to a food business during this time!

We have had great support from various local suppliers in helping to feed the NHS. Huge thanks goes out to The Orchard Butchers (Rumney) and C Snell Potatoes. Their generosity knows no bounds and they offer quality produce.

One thing I am absolutely loving at the moment is getting to know our local community a lot more. Usually I am dashing to work/from work/running after the kids/working at weekends, so I am really loving being able to take leisurely walks in our local area of Penylan.

Being a member of a Facebook group such as the Penylan/Cyncoed/Roath community is lovely, but it doesn’t work as well as personal interaction. We were looking forward to hopefully working with everyone at the Penylan Picnic event this year (organised by Waterloo Gardens Fete).

Last year’s event made a huge difference to our community and it was great to meet so many other locals. Hopefully next year! I’m hoping that when things start to go back to ‘normal’ (not sure I ever knew the meaning of the word!), I don’t forget our family evening walks, bike rides and chats (currently at a distance!) to other locals. As someone who has split their time as a full time employee working from home, tutor and food business owner, I never anticipated the lack of energy I sometimes have for either one thing or the other.

Can I confess something? I had big plans for home educating when all this started. I have all the resources/subscription to Twinkl/years of early education/personal tutoring, but sometimes I really can’t be bothered!

I’m often feeling torn between thinking I could (or is that should?) do more with my children; and thinking hang on! They are happy – and as long as they continue to be happy and can reintegrate when all this is over isn’t that enough? Please tell me I’m not alone in feeling this way!

So in short – I, like so many others, am just doing the best I can during this time. I won’t be taking up another language or learning a new subject (although languages is a huge passion of mine and I’ve always wanted to study forensic linguistics), because I really don’t feel like it at the moment.

However I will try my best to get to know my community of Cardiff better and try to be content with what I achieve on a day to day basis. Who else is with me?!

Follow Claire on Facebook (Claire Ait-Hammi), or check out The Med Shed and order all the goodies from them! Email The Med Shed | The Med Shed Facebook | The Med Shed Twitter | The Med Shed Instagram

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The People

Letters from Cardiff in lockdown: Alice, aged two

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Today’s instalment for the Letters from Cardiff in lockdown series comes from Alice, aged two. Full disclosure, she had some help from a human adult she has enslaved to look after her. We’re looking for your stories, so please contribute to Letters from Cardiff in lockdown! 

My favourite lockdown activities include: clapping for key workers, swapping books with my friends, colouring the inside of a large cardboard box while sitting in it, yoga (I have invented extra poses, such as ‘fish’ and ‘snake’) and pretending to be a dinosaur. I would recommend all of them.

I ask most days if we can ‘do clapping’. But it turns out that’s only on Thursday nights. I like to see everyone outside clapping. It also means I get to wave to my friend, Jeremy, across the road, who, like me, is also in his pyjamas and sleeping bag by 8pm. When the clapping stops, I am known to shout “More clapping!” And sometimes that works.

It has been nice having Daddy at home. He’s normally at the university but he has been giving lectures to his students from the spare room. I have made the most of him being at home by waiting until I am outside his door to belt out Baby Shark, doo doo doo doo doo doo. I also once gave him a fright by running up the stairs and into his office while he was in a Zoom meeting and saying “What you up to?” (In case you were wondering, Mummy was just trying to wash her hands during all of this; they don’t call me Speedy GonzAlice for nothing.)

Mummy says our house now looks like we should be on an episode of Hoarders, whatever that is. It’s true that we have a lot more cardboard than we used to: a cardboard house, a cardboard boat, a cardboard TV and a cardboard under-the-sea scene. I also made an Elmer the Elephant using an old milk carton and some colourful paper squares. I say ‘made’, I mean project managed.

It is hard not seeing friends and family, though. I miss them. The other day I was walking past my favourite playground with Mummy and I asked if I could go on the seesaw with my friend Millie, but she said it’s closed now but we will do when we can. So instead we went into the grassy area of the park and I went up to all the trees and hugged them.

I feel a bit wary when I see people I don’t know walking around. I think it’s because Mummy sometimes picks me up or crosses the street if there are people about, and that’s very strange to me. I don’t always know how to react.

Normally I go to lots of different places, but now we have to keep a distance from everyone, even our friends. But we do make each other cards and talk on the phone. One time I said to Millie, “Wash your hands, nice and clean!” and then lay down on the floor and put a toilet roll on my tummy. It was hysterical. I think mummy would call that my peak lockdown moment.

I got upset the other day that I couldn’t go to the supermarket with Daddy. And when we saw an airplane I asked if I could go on it.

I’m lucky that I find beauty in small things. I am interested in all the different kinds of birds. I like spotting helicopters in the sky. Yesterday when I was in the garden, I watched a bee. Then I said “Excuse me, bee” and waited patiently for it to fly away before watering our apple tree.

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