A Covid Era Christmas Eve

 'Twas a strange Christmas Eve in Lockdown 2020. 

I consulted my list of jobs for the day. It was the same as it had been for decades, a mix of last minute chores, housekeeping and traditional festive activities. However, circumstances under Covid 19 were far from normal. It would be both challenging and interesting to see how the next few hours would play out. 

First up was the collection of the fresh turkey. This had been ordered in November amidst emerging concerns over an Avian-Flu outbreak on some turkey farms in the UK. When living in a suburban area of the City it had been only natural to support a local business and so for the last 30 years we had been to the same Butcher. We were on first name terms which is as much as you can hope for with your local purveyor of meats and even more remarkable as our loyalty was just for that one annual order. 

I had felt bad about not frequenting the shop on an all year round basis. 

Even though we had moved to an inner city area some 7 years ago now I still made that Christmas Eve appointment a fixed one in the Festive Calendar. 

In previous years the ritual of turkey collection was pretty straightforward. Perhaps a small line of carnivores picked out in the artificial light from the well stocked Butchers shop window but rarely more than a dozen or so. 

In this Covid era it was very different. It seems as though a large proportion of the  population of the suburban area had all had the same idea. Get there early to avoid a crowd. 

Of course that defeated the whole object of the thing. As I parked up in the Town Square I could make out in the murky dawn a lot of dark human shapes. What threw me a bit was the lack of any random movement or milling about of persons. This was a serious queueing situation and not just for my Butchers but for every other sales outlet on the street which had opened up early in anticipation of a long trading day ahead. 

I pitied those who had scheduled in a shop at the butchers, bakers, candle-stic...., I mean gift and Charity shops as they would surely be in multiple lines for many hours to come. 

I took up a place. I was a good distance away from the local landmark of the brightly painted fibre glass formed caricature of a ruddy faced butcher that had, as long as I can remember and much more beyond that, graced the forecourt of the shop. His was a welcoming presence and a popular  talisman for small children and the occasional cocked leg of a dog. 

I tried to raise a conversation with the man in front of me in the queue but words through a face mask and where the other party has on hidden headphones are the most indecipherable of all. As with any queueing scenario it is always best to establish that you are in the right one. That applies to when you have just arrived or have been in it for a few minutes. 

Everyone kept to themselves which we have got used to under Covid. 

The line shuffled along very slowly at its 2 metre spacing although it you faced outwards into the street and rested against a shop front it felt like better progress was being made. 

The morning had started off typically cold and wet for a Christmas Eve. 

I didn't mind the inclement weather as I was already deep in thought about what I needed to do in the approaching hours in final preparation for the day. 

1)A final sweep of the food list for anything missed (There is always that nagging feeling of having forgotten something important), 2) deliveries of gifts to family and friends, 3) a couple of visits dressed as Father Christmas to the youngest members in our acquaintance (all to social distancing protocol of course), 4) attending an early evening service of Holy Communion at the City Minster and then 5) on returning home, at last, having something to eat and to reflect on the imminent arrival of the Feast of Christmas. 

In my deep thoughts out on that cold pavement I began to notice a few white flecks in the air. 

It was trying to snow. 

I could not recall the last time it had snowed on Christmas Eve or for that matter when there had been such conditions at all in the last 12 months and more. 

That snowy scene did make me quite emotional. Fortunately the Butcher saw me as I reached the shop door (restriction of two persons inside) and emerged with the turkey before I could make a fool of myself by crying in public, totally overwhelmed by everything. 

I did manage a thank you for the seasonal bird purchase and of course for the snow which had made that part of the day so special.