Said when this is all over, you'll be in clover

Without going out of your door
You can know all things on earth
Without looking out of your window
You could know the ways of heaven
The farther one travels
The less one knows
The less one really knows

Wise words there from George Harrison, a man who knew as much about going out and having a good time as anyone. Well, it looks like we’re going to have to put George’s words to the test because a little while ago, Leo Varadkar and Simon Harris once again addressed the nation to tell us that for the next two weeks we should only leave our homes in exceptional circumstances. We can only leave the house on our own for brief periods of exercise within a 2km radius of our homes or to go for groceries or to the pharmacy. More new normals to try to contend with.

What are we to make of life where we have no freedom of movement? There’s lots of rumours and information and misinformation going around at the moment. Yesterday I heard that the current plan is for a slow reintroduction of the old normal in July with travel bans in place for 18 months. That could be something that’s come from a senior government source or it could have come from some lad standing outside a Tesco. Given the way things have changed over the last month, anything seems possible.

Was it really four weeks ago tomorrow that we were in the Gaiety to see The Lieutenant of Inishmore? A matinee show on a Saturday afternoon followed by pints in Peters Pub and sloppy burgers from Bunsen. No big deal, no special event, just catching up with friends. Now we catch up with friends on Facetime, or GotoMeetings or Zoom or some other variation. We raise our glasses at a screen and talk about what we’ll do when all this is over. As if anyone has the first clue what state we’ll be in by then.

This afternoon I caught up with my Red Dog colleagues for a 30-minute chat that turned into a 3-hour session of anecdotes and updates about our families and our neighbourhood. He has it, she thinks she has it. we can’t go anywhere but they went to the mountains for a walk last week. All that sort of thing. It’s all just noise. But it was good to see everyone and we had a drink and laughed a little bit. But it was nervous laughter for sure.

Watched the news this evening after the Taoiseach’s announcement and it ended with Derek Mahon reading his poem ‘Everything Is Going To Be Alright’. A poem at the end of the news. Sometimes I love this country.

Everything Is Going To Be Alright - by Derek Mahon

How should I not be glad to contemplate
the clouds clearing beyond the dormer window
and a high tide reflected on the ceiling?
There will be dying, there will be dying,
but there is no need to go into that.
The poems flow from the hand unbidden
and the hidden source is the watchful heart.
The sun rises in spite of everything
and the far cities are beautiful and bright.
I lie here in a riot of sunlight
watching the day break and the clouds flying.
Everything is going to be all right.