It’s setting day – the most wonderful and sometimes terrible day of the year. The boats will head out and launch pots into the sea and lift them tomorrow to find what waits.
I never feel so proud as when I see my cousin out on the water, knowing that this is what my family has been doing along this coast for over 200 years. That connection to the land and the sea is what I missed when I lived away for so many years.
It’s good to have lived in a place long enough that you know the daffodils are early this year, to know that the catch is more abundant than usual, and that a hillside once clear cut has regenerated over the past 25 years; it’s good to live in a place long enough to see babies grow into men and women.
This is where half my heart is today, the other is in reflection on our recent re-entry into lockdown. This province has done amazingly well; we’ve all been bragging about the safety of these shores throughout the last year. And that message took root. People from all over the country decided that Nova Scotia would be the best place to weather the storm of the pandemic and bought up almost every piece of property they could find—pushing housing prices through the roof- relatively speaking.
The pandemic has in some ways been extremely good for Nova Scotia – it’s increased our population and is bringing in new blood -- families and professionals -- to our small villages and towns. Because people, rightfully so, want to get away from crowed streets and townhouses with postage stamp yards. People want the wide-open spaces where the virus is unlikely to find them. Where you can still ramble outside without seeing another potentially infected soul. That place is here, right here in the remote, often overlooked, eastern tip of this province.
But the remoteness of this place is a mirage, driving to the city for the weekend or the day is not unheard of now. It’s not the once in a blue moon event it used to be when I was a child. Forty-five years ago, I don’t remember ever going to the city of Halifax for fun—we went for hospital stays at the IWK Children’s Hospital and doctors’ visits—never for shopping and museum visits as I do with my own children.
If we were still as remote as we were back then, the province-wide shut down would make little sense—but these days –anyone from any part of the province could be anywhere. And are. There’s shopping; you can’t buy much in this small village and have to go to a bigger area to buy most things beyond groceries. There’re sports; many youths in rural communities belong to teams that are based in other areas of the province and travel beyond the confines of home base for tournaments. And there’s family; not very many people live in the small rural areas where they started off—they come home from the city to visit, attend weddings and funerals. We are a province where ‘home community’ casts a wide geographic net.
Hence lockdown; everywhere.
My experience of lockdown last year, and currently, has been very good. And I feel guilty about that. I was looking forward to having the kids home again all the time. I like to see them more but I have to admit the main reason I wanted them home was so I could do this; write.
Strange to say, but with the kids at home I will get more alone time, shut up in my office. We recently got a new puppy, and his presence has changed our lives more than the pandemic.
We now get up at 6 a.m. -- not easy for two teens—to answer his cries. I had to move my workstation from my office upstairs to the open area of the living room where the puppy spends his days. And walks are more frequent, no matter the weather.
We split our days of doggy duty but with the kids in school- that meant I had the full school day looking after the little fluff ball. Hard to concentration on writing while keeping a watchful eye on the pup.
With the kids at home, I get to move back to my office and sequester myself in this space with my “working” sign on the door. It feels a bit like heaven to have this time back.
And I don’t have to run to the store for every little thing anymore. I am back to a once-a-week shop. The kids can’t ask me to go and pick up this or that—they have to be patient and write it on the grocery list. They have to make do with what is in the cupboard. That cuts down on lots of lost time in the day that had been stolen by ‘quick’ trips to the store. It’s also probably healthier as I can’t make a run to the store for ice cream, chips or cookies when the craving strikes.
Now, once again, I can only work from home. No driving to events or to meet people for interviews. This also frees up a lot of time.
And it is spring; the weather has been good—so good I think we are going to have to start mowing the grass soon. Some people already have. The early spring means we can still visit the grandparents –outside and are not stuck in the house with nothing to do.
For me, I can guiltily say, the third wave lockdown, is a welcome break. The beginning of the first lockdown was the least stressed I have been in ages—I felt better than I had in years.
But for many people this will be a challenge. Regular health care is disrupted—they’ve stopped regular blood collection in this area due to all the COVID-19 testing they have to do. Elective surgery will be pushed back again. And many workplaces have closed-leaving employees jobless for the time being.
Families with young children are hit especially hard. Parents have to run homeschool again and deal with kids who would rather be out seeing friends and doing all their regular activities. But most of all, child care—whose going to take care of these children if the parents are still working? That is still a circle that can’t be squared. It can’t be the grandparents which is the typical fall-back position. So who? Nobody but you—so there goes work, there goes money. Lockdown is extremely tough for parents of young children.
I know how difficult and necessary it is to work as a parent with young children and that is why I feel so guilty for welcoming this lockdown as a respite from the world. I know this is a crushing situation for them.
And that leads me back to setting day. In this neck of the woods lots of fishermen have young families—so now when both parents are needed at home as much as possible—they’re operating one-short. This couldn’t have happened at a worse time for fishing families. But like everything else, these parents will make it work but with difficulty and stress.
I am ready for the third wave. I have noise cancelling headphones, pay coming in, and freedom to roam the woods and beaches. I wish all could be so lucky.
