Social distancing, day #1. Trying to do something positive in among poring over the newsfeeds, tweeting at the useless government for doing too little too late, occasionally lapsing into outbursts of Tourettish panic, or periods of paralysis as efforts to grasp the Apocalyptic immensity of it all fall short, and have finally started my first ever sourdough culture.
Four days in and the signs of life from all those naturally occurring yeasts magically plucked out of thin air are clearly visible in the bubbles that nudge and push and squirt their way to the surface.
I'm over-awed at the prospect that, provided I don't screw up, and knotty decisions about who to pass-on this particular 'legacy' of the coronavirus get sorted, it could be making loaves of bread many years after I'm no longer around to enjoy them.
What a thought!
Social Distancing Diary, day #2.
So, after a couple of trips to my local shops, where people are jostling to get their hands on whatever remains on the half-empty shelves (n.b. no flour whatsoever, which could well prove to be a fly in the ointment for my sourdough baking plans) and paying no attention to social distancing protocols, or polite requests to remain at arms' length, I have made a decision.
I have decided the only sensible thing to do now is to make people really want to keep their distance.
Social-distancing diary, day #3.
Starting to observe things more closely. Happened across this beautiful creature yesterday morning, basking in the sunshine and it banished my pandemic broodings for a good few minutes, until it took flight again and found somewhere else to pause.
The amazing thing about London right now with no planes in the sky and so few cars on the street is that you really can almost hear the wing-beat of a Peacock butterfly.
Social-distancing diary, day #4 (maybe #5 or possibly #6 - every day seems the same really).
Still trying not to go out and keep the rest of the population safe, but the Sourdough Honeymoon phase is definitely over as I realise that I've probably bitten off more than I can chew. If anyone recalls the Tamagochi craze that swept through primary schools back in the late 1990’s, it's on a par with that. This is a needy, greedy and wilful creature, demanding way too much time if you're going to keep it alive, never mind get it to grow, which is, after all, the goal.
But the critical problem is that it needs regular feeding and it's difficult to find a supermarket shelf with even a single bag of flour at the moment.
So, as the sourdough feeds (it mostly doesn't grow as you have to discard half every day - why???) my precious supply of flour diminishes,
It seems then that the chances of me having enough left to make anything more than a very small bread roll seem quite remote. As does the dream of being able to supply friends and neighbours in this time of national crisis with warm, wholesome/artisanal sourdough fresh from the oven.
Social-distancing diary, day # ????. Still trying to exert some self-discipline, not go out and find stuff to do. Discovered a pile of rotting logs blocking up the boiler vent and posing a major new health hazard alongside the regular pandemic one.
Close inspection revealed these entities issuing from the bark of one of them. I have no idea what they are and have never seen anything like them. They are hard and shiny on the surface, quite unyielding to a prying finger, a bit reminiscent of conkers (as in Horse Chestnuts), but also, from a perspective of pandemic paranoia, way too inscrutable to be up to any good.
A number of questions arise: who are they, what are they doing there and why? If anyone, with a bit of time on their hands, has any answers, I will be much obliged.
In the meantime, I shall be maintaining an appropriate social distance!