So it’s 10.32am and the first day of home school, term 2, has started. I am not entirely sure if the children are working, although I have dragged them both out of bed and made them eat a nutritious breakfast. Ever since Easter, Violet has been enjoying her culinary innovation of filling the neighbour’s large hollow chocolate eggs with milk and drinking that whilst nibbling on the edges – there has been some spillage.

When I was at school I had to get my books out and at least perform the act of studying. There were lined refill pages to be filled, essays to be handwritten, text books and novels to arrange around me. Also there was my anxiety that fuelled my study – I had to do what the teachers asked of me, or something terrible would happen. I would fail at life. I would become a drug addict. My friend, who was one of the smartest girls at my school, told me she did her homework in front of the television. I was horrified – how could she concentrate? We didn’t even have a television. I sat at the small desk in my room.

I guess what I am worried about is that this lockdown has exacerbated our 21st century malaise – if we were addicted to our screens before, we’re even more addicted now. If we were reluctant to leave the house and could find fulfilment in simulated realities – well, now the government is discouraging us from going far and our screens are our solace. I know this is for the greater good, and we have a chance of eliminating the virus from New Zealand, but I am worried about the ripple effects… also I am not really cut out for home schooling!

I’m pretty sure we did make a papier-mâché version of the Hindenburg, but according to this comic, it was the Titanic. Maybe we made both… memory is so slippery….