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Lockdown has created some routine challenges in our household over the last month which we've been rising to with varying degrees of success. Problem drinking hasn't been one of them. That's because I stockpiled the minute I realised this pandemic thing was going to get serious. Beer, wine, cooking sherry - I'm not proud. It was more a practicality thing. But it's interesting what a prepper will hoard when they sense the apocalypse is nigh. Fair to say I was probably less concerned about a water outage, and by the way, is it beer o'clock yet? The fear at the outset was that along with everything else they would close my local bottlo. Turned out bottle shops were deemed not places of social congregation, leading me to wonder if authorities had ever been to my local bottlo. Staying home, shopping less but buying more has extended into fruit and veg too, leading to concerns about problem eating. Someone's got to chew down the pantry. No sooner do we finish one meal then word goes out about what's for dinner tomorrow. You've got to have something to look forward to in social isolation. Unfortunately this puts pressure on the lockdown chef, most of whom only have a limited number of deadset, sure-fire, crowd-pleasing winners in the cooking repertoire. That well can run dry pretty quick as days and meals roll into one. Before you know it, the rotation is back to ground zero - potato. And with repetition comes the risk of copping heat from your captive eating audience. Problem drinking helps ease the sting of criticism, but as a rule, it's recommended most of the sauce goes in the actual sauce, not the sorcerer. Maintaining the kitchen magic has led to another questionable method of breaking routines in our household - problem baking. It's an extension of problem eating that's evolved to fill the gaps round morning and afternoon tea. And when I say "fill the gaps", I mean "pack the saddle bags". Biscuits, cakes, fondue, a straight packet of castor sugar guzzled like a can of Solo - anything to tame those sweet-tooth receptors. All in the name of a cup of tea. I don't mean to make light of the situation because that's not where this is heading. After a month of problem drinking, eating and baking, lockdown has led, inevitably almost, to problem exercising. A challenge at the best of times. But the mirror doesn't lie - there's clearly another curve that needs flattening and we've been giving it a crack every afternoon. Exercise I mean. And when I say crack, I also mean groan, because exercise hurts after being cooped up all day. There's a worry we've all grown a bit too. And not just spiritually. Taking the edge off lockdown routine has made us more rounded human beings in many ways. More from Simon Walker: The complete That's Life archive

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OPINION

April 26 2020 - 4:00PM

Lockdown has created some routine challenges in our household over the last month which we've been rising to with varying degrees of success.

Problem drinking hasn't been one of them. That's because I stockpiled the minute I realised this pandemic thing was going to get serious.

Beer, wine, cooking sherry - I'm not proud. It was more a practicality thing. But it's interesting what a prepper will hoard when they sense the apocalypse is nigh.

Fair to say I was probably less concerned about a water outage, and by the way, is it beer o'clock yet?

The fear at the outset was that along with everything else they would close my local bottlo.

Turned out bottle shops were deemed not places of social congregation, leading me to wonder if authorities had ever been to my local bottlo.

Staying home, shopping less but buying more has extended into fruit and veg too, leading to concerns about problem eating. Someone's got to chew down the pantry.

No sooner do we finish one meal then word goes out about what's for dinner tomorrow.

You've got to have something to look forward to in social isolation.

Unfortunately this puts pressure on the lockdown chef, most of whom only have a limited number of deadset, sure-fire, crowd-pleasing winners in the cooking repertoire.

That well can run dry pretty quick as days and meals roll into one.

Before you know it, the rotation is back to ground zero - potato. And with repetition comes the risk of copping heat from your captive eating audience.

Problem drinking helps ease the sting of criticism, but as a rule, it's recommended most of the sauce goes in the actual sauce, not the sorcerer.

Maintaining the kitchen magic has led to another questionable method of breaking routines in our household - problem baking.

It's an extension of problem eating that's evolved to fill the gaps round morning and afternoon tea. And when I say "fill the gaps", I mean "pack the saddle bags".

Biscuits, cakes, fondue, a straight packet of castor sugar guzzled like a can of Solo - anything to tame those sweet-tooth receptors.

All in the name of a cup of tea.

I don't mean to make light of the situation because that's not where this is heading.

After a month of problem drinking, eating and baking, lockdown has led, inevitably almost, to problem exercising.

A challenge at the best of times.

But the mirror doesn't lie - there's clearly another curve that needs flattening and we've been giving it a crack every afternoon.

And when I say crack, I also mean groan, because exercise hurts after being cooped up all day. There's a worry we've all grown a bit too. And not just spiritually.

Taking the edge off lockdown routine has made us more rounded human beings in many ways.

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Simon Walker writes: Feeding the habit in times of social isolation - Newcastle Herald