In the last few weeks we have all seen enough memes, videos of clever/cute pets, animated gifs and inspirational verses to last the rest of our lives. All, of course, are sent with the very best of intentions – to lift our spirits with a bit of comfort or laughter.

One friend reminded me of the best ever clip from a children’s TV show. If you ever need cheering up this is the one:

I love sacred choral music – both singing it and listening to it. For me, it’s an integral part of Christmas and Holy Week. I realise that is a bit of a niche choice, but if that’s not your cup of tea (mine’s redbush, by the way) just humour me for a few moments.

Handel’s Messiah is often performed around this time of year, especially in Wales where I spent some of my childhood. My family used to put the record on during dinner and we’d belt out the main choruses. My grandmother, who lived in Aberdare, told me that she always imagined the sheep running on the hills behind her home when she heard “All we like sheep”.

The section of The Messiah that covers the events of Holy Week ends with a huge climax in the Hallelujah chorus. Another of my Welsh grandmother’s anecdotes was about her friend who was known as Mrs Jones Hallelujah, because she sang an extra hallelujah during the electric silence just before the end of the chorus.

Back in 2016 I went to hear the first performance of Stabat Mater by James Macmillan at the Barbican. The Stabat Mater is an ancient poem in Latin about Mary, the mother of Jesus, as she stands watching her son suffering and dying on the cross. It has been set to music by many composers. I must admit it doesn’t usually attract me because, in any version, it is inevitably full of anguish, though often touched with moments of tenderness.

However I was at the Barbican on that occasion because my niece was playing violin with the Britten Sinfonia. I have been to many concerts given by that chamber orchestra simply to support her, and I have heard a number of works that I would otherwise not have considered – some astonishing, some hilarious and some indecipherable. On this occasion they were joined by The Sixteen, probably my favourite choir of all time.

On 24th March everyone who owns a mobile phone, ie 99.99% of us, got a text message via their network provider which read:

GOV.UK CORONAVIRUS ALERT. New rules in force now: you must stay at home. More info & exemptions at gov.uk/coronavirus. Stay at home. Protect the NHS. Save lives.

My phone identified it as suspected spam. Some thought it was a scam. It was neither, as was soon obvious when people caught up with the day’s news.

Since then a number of scams have been reported that have shamefully exploited that initial text. In one case a text that looks very similar to the one from the government tells you that you have been fined for going out too much during lockdown. Another offers you a payment. Both, of course, are phishing scams and are after your bank details.

The consumer magazine Which has a good summary of all the types of coronavirus scams that have been spotted.

Those scammers have done more than con people out of money, bad as that is. They have also confused the messaging, so that people are being sceptical about genuine messages from the government or their health providers.

A statue wrapped up for the winter – but where?

During a Zoom call the other day someone asked me what I most missed while being stuck at home. I actually couldn’t come up with an answer on the spot.

Ever since we decided to self-isolate (and long before the Government told my husband that he should isolate for 12 weeks) I was determined to enjoy the experience. I could see many benefits to our enforced holiday at home.

Now I suppose I am lucky – I have always been a glass half full type of person. I can’t claim any credit for that, and I do understand how challenging it must be for people who are naturally pessimistic or anxious. But the practice of counting your blessings is part of every recovery programme and is especially relevant to all of us now.

So I am looking, with a real sense of achievement, at the piles of things in the spare bedroom that are destined for the charity shop or tip – eventually. Both places are going to be inundated when this is all over!

I still have my sights on the many other boxes and filing cabinets of documents that we have accumulated in the 35 years we have been living in this house. The other day I was shredding bank statements from 1997, and there are plenty more to clear. And although I have made a start on the cupboards in the spare room, I still have to deal with the chunky old desktop computers dating back 30 years or more, not to mention the defunct electronic toys and memorabilia of long forgotten events.

Another blessing for me has been the large number of conversations we have had with friends and family. They have been far more frequent than in our previous busy lives. We have added Zoom and Houseparty to the familiar channels of phone, Skype and Facetime. I have learnt that the first 20 minutes of any Zoom conversation is spent sorting out the technology, and then asking about whatever is on the wall behind participants.

The Great British Home Chorus

Eight members of our (not so extended) family work in the music industry, as performers, teachers, publishers and music producers. So it’s not surprising that I have spotted many online musical performances given in kitchens and sheds over the last few weeks. My daughter-in-law’s brother multi-tracking himself playing jigs on his violin; a friend playing Happy Birthday to his grand-daughter on his euphonium; choirs apparently singing together on Zoom.

The latter is a bit misleading because it just isn’t possible to sing together over the Internet – the time delay is significant. Instead singers have to listen to a backing track on headphones and video themselves singing, then submit it to someone who can then synchronise the voices.

I learnt that from Gareth Malone. Every weekday at 5.30pm I join his Great British Home Chorus, as does Paul Walter, my colleague here on Lib Dem Voice. So far over 120,000 people have registered. On most days Gareth Malone leads the half hour rehearsal live from the shed/music studio in his garden. Occasionally he pre-records when he is making live appearances on other platforms. When he first started two weeks ago he was clearly experimenting a bit; he has received a huge amount of friendly advice and suggestions via the rolling comments thread, many of which he has taken on board.

A typical rehearsal begins with some of the most fun warm ups I have ever done. Yesterday he threw in “We’ll meet again” taking his cue from the Queen’s speech on Sunday. One day last week we all sang along to “Lean on me” in tribute to Bill Withers. Both those songs were highly appropriate and quite moving, although I find myself laughing through most of the warm ups.

Still life with yogurt

The big supermarket delivery which I ordered three weeks ago arrived this morning. In fact I have been looking forward to it for days – I am getting excited about quite simple things now.

When the doorbell rang I said a heartfelt thank you to the driver for doing such an important task. He told me that he really appreciates it when customers thank him; some of them don’t and are quite rude. Unbelievable!

I had been checking the order during the week before, noting items that were out of stock and adding new items. But when the final confirmation came through this morning I discovered that almost all of the meat was unavailable. At that very moment my neighbour texted to ask if she could get anything from the shops, so I mentioned the meat. She kindly picked up some sliced ham for me, but said that again fresh meat was in short supply.

It’s very strange learning about so much of what is happening locally, like food shortages, third hand. I spotted a Facebook post that referred to the cost of petrol – around £1 a litre!!