Alright? It’s been a week and everything is arguably worse in the world than the last time this newsletter hit your inboxes. Apparently, stress-eating while watching rolling news isn’t doing a thing to change the situation. Which is a shame because I’m getting really good at it.
But as I said last week, that’s not the way, is it? I can’t stop a war but I can help those being damaged by it. And here are some thank yous for everyone who’s helping too:
Firstly, any readers of this august publication (ahem) who stuck their hands in their pockets for Ukraine’s journalists last week. The campaign has raised more than £1.2m - of which £850,000+ has come from thousands of individual small donations from people like you on via the GoFundMe page. That is incredible, isn’t it? Fund dispersal has already begun - you can read about where the money has been going here.
And thanks to the Guardian for publicising the campaign. There’s absolutely no doubt that this coincided with a big bump in contributions.
On to direct fundraising! Thanks to Earlybird Designs for creating this card to raise cash - and for persuading the printers to donate their costs too so all the proceeds can go to the media-protecting campaign.
Thanks to the Polish White Eagle Club who are collecting physical donations and delivering them to refugees at the Polish border and in Ukraine. I’m glad to have helped in a small way. If anyone wants to volunteer or donate, the best place to look is the club’s Facebook page. That will tell you what/who they need and when. If you’ve seen any of the coverage, you’ll know they have been completely overwhelmed so often need people just to sort the mountains of bags they’ve received.
Oh and finally, these. I have pivoted away from tea cosies briefly. Thank you to all the people that I’ll never meet who have bought them.
OK, that’s probably enough of that before I disappear in a cloud of virtue-signalling. On to business,
I noticed a thing this week: volunteering and freelancing are both a brilliant and a terrible combination for the same reason - it’s extremely easy to down tools and de-prioritise paid work. As worthy as our good deeds may be, until household bills can be paid with saintliness, we still need to keep the money coming in. So that’s something to keep an eye on.
I’ve also started to suspect that I’m in a minority with my total preoccupation with events in Ukraine - other people seem to be able to get on with their lives just fine. But who knows - maybe everyone is just masking their worries, just the way I do when I pop out to buy milk. Maybe the person next to me in the grocer’s store is looking at my basket thinking: “Jesus, how can you worry about milk at a time like this?” It’s not like we haven’t had the practice at putting on our game faces, is it?
Realising this made me think about old covid-coping-mechanisms, reminding myself of all the things I did two years ago when things were pretty bloody scary. I tried loads of displacement activities back in spring 2020 - and I bet you did too (cough, banana bread, cough - I saw you on Instagram…). Shame we didn’t keep a national register of “things that made us feel less mental”.
Maybe we should start one? I’ll go first …
“Well done, flower. You’ve done reeeally well.”
Thanks, Sarah Millican! Jogging is back and is doing me the power of good. Well, when I say jogging, it’s mostly brisk walking, interspersed with occasional slow-jogging, as dictated by the Couch to 5K app. And like any right-thinking person, I have selected Sarah Millican* as my coach.
I really did try with the whole swimming lark but I just can’t spare two hours out of my day. And it’s been a year since I twanged my back so I’ve very tentatively put my trainers back on. And 20 minutes in fresh air a few times a week is proving very helpful. Back when we were only supposed to go out once a day for exercise, it seemed essential to do so and, looking back now, it probably was: a half-hour breather from everything.
But I’m really struggling to remember what else I did in covid-times to make myself less scared and more productive. Blimey, how quickly we forget. Suggestions welcome.
*For non-UK readers, this is comedian Sarah Millican. Imagine this lovely woman gently encouraging you towards your goal. And then congratulating you at the end and suggesting you have “a drink of water and light snack… like a piece of fruit”. Don’t worry, Sarah - I know what you mean when you say “a piece of fruit” (opens biscuits).
Badge pinboard
Sunflowers!
The sunflowers are lovely, where can I find the pattern? (Or do you sell them online?)