Diary Entries

Sundays and Wednesdays Since early February I have been at home writing a book. On sabbatical. No overseas travel. No face-to-face conferences. No museum visits. Just at home. The garden is flourishing. On Sunday mornings I speak with my daughter who is locked down in her apartment in Manhattan, New York. Cups of tea for me. It’s breakfast time in Sydney. Dinner is on the table in New York. At 7pm we listen to the sound of New Yorkers cheering and hooting from their windows for the health care workers across the city. It happens every night. We wait. We listen. My son-in-law puts his phone on loudspeaker so I can join in too. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. This time is precious. On both sides of the world we are tiring of the restrictions. When will it be safe to take up where we left off? It’s a new world. Many unknowns. Travel. When will I see those cherished two again face-to-face? Talking. Always talking. Laughing. Eating meals together. Completing jigsaws. Scrabble. It is not the same online. So far away. Each Wednesday at lunchtime I visit my son and Millie. She is the new puppy. Dulwich Hill so close to Canterbury. It’s routine now. It’s a routine I love. Working from home. WFH. Seeing family face-to-face. Nothing takes its place. We walk and buy coffee. The birds are raucous. Nature is cheering. Millie joins us – she sniffs each step following her own storybook through the suburb. At home with a sandwich, locally made, we want to support our community. Making the most of it. We are lucky. Each day. Each moment is precious. It’s a new world. It is not the same online. Family. I love Sundays and Wednesdays.

Well, corona, you've been interesting. I started a business just before you came ashore, so that's been hard. I'm now competing with so many others to find work. Then, I had to delay my wedding for another year, making sure we can celebrate with our cherished family and friends. (It's okay, really, we feel married already - it's everyone else who has struggled with our postponement!) Yet, I'm grateful. I'm learning to crochet. I look forward to cooking dinner. I'm walking slowly and seeing more than ever. There are so many books to be read, board games to be played, and deep conversations to share.

Expecting Social Distancing visitors A day of excitement came to our home when two friends said that they would visit “tomorrow”. “It will be compliant to the “Social Distancing” norms,” • We cleaned and disinfected our dusty outdoor table. • We distanced and disinfected the chairs just in case the virus lurked ready to jump onto our derrieres • With all the seriousness of preparing for a Japanese tea making ceremony, I readied the rubber gloves to pick up the tea making paraphernalia. • I disinfected the outside of the electric kettle, just stopping myself in time from disinfecting its’ inside • The bathroom got a deep clean. The smell of disinfectant now wafted eye wateringly and reassuringly through the house. • We got out our precious liquid gold, the hand sanitiser. • Now came the really clever part, using rubber gloves I replaced the half used toilet paper roll with a brand new roll. I decided then and there that our guests could take home the leftover roll! Such toilet paper generosity still fills me with a warm feeling. • Finally, being super clever, I removed our towels and replaced them with carefully preserved, NOT HOARDED, paper towels. • But I forgot to use the rubber gloves! So then, hygienically gloved, I tore off another two lengths • OH No! I did not disinfect the towel rail! • Third time lucky! Now the bath room was a total germ free zone After instructions to other half –“ON NO ACCOUNT to use the bathroom.” We waited, darkness came, but our guests did not. They did not come until the next day, but they stayed in their car.. Apparently in my excited anticipation of guests, I got the day wrong. Never mind, I still have that roll of toilet paper.

Dear Dad, I’m sorry I can’t visit you. I know it's been hard for you moving into the nursing home earlier in the year. It’s been a hard transition for both of us. I tried to look after you but we both knew a nursing home was the only option. I'm sorry Dad. But we’d got into a routine hadn't we Dad? I was able to work two days per week and visit you on the other days. Then came COVID-19. The nursing home made the decision to ban visitors, I know it's hard but it was the right thing to do Dad. I miss you. I miss our chats, our coffee together, our jokes. I even miss our bickering! Even the crossword gods are against me Dad. Usually, we whip through the Sydney Morning Herald crossword, but I can't seem to do it on my own. I know you wonder why I'm not visiting you. Our twice-daily phone calls aren't the same are they? Time to finish this letter, it’s time to call you. I hope you'll be able to help me with 26 down. Love Alison PS I've left you a bottle of whisky at reception, they'll bring it up to your room. As you said to me last night, 'I'm 93, and my nightly whisky keeps me going.' Good for you Dad, have to keep the spirits up!

Wake Up Hey Carona making us wake up So we can see Out of this sleepy slumber You and me What’s important, what’s true? Or do you still not have a clue? Do you really care for others’ health? Or do you care only for your own wealth? This disease chooses anyone - rich or poor Everyone is equal under Carona law Some are now listening, a new way of being It’s taken Carona for us to be seeing

Even though my "old" life was hectic, I think it got busier after I retired 3 years ago, I've realised how much I loved doing all those things, sometimes I would think that I would like more time to read or do more music practice but now that I have all this time I've realised that I actually was doing exactly what I wanted to do. The things I miss most are the activities where I was helping people and making a difference - learn - to - swim teaching, working in Vinnies, being involved in Rotary projects, I feel a bit of a bludger at the moment.

I haven't left the house in days. People I now have gotten sick and I am in hospital as I write this. I walk around the streets, everybody's heads are down, face hidden by a mask, trying to protect themselves from the virus. It sits there lurking in the dark looking for the weak before breaking into your immune system sending pains like sharp knives into your lungs. It is no longer safe outside no matter if you're rich or poor, the virus does not discriminate. All shops are closing, putting us in place for a recession. Crime will go up and yet again I will no longer be able to go outside. I miss friends. I miss family. I miss my life.

First time hearing about this in February hoped it wouldn’t be a big deal like most other virus scares. March 12th was the day the world started taking it a bit more seriously. Online on social media it became a bit more prevalent that it wasn’t just going to be contained in China. March felt very long getting used to social distancing and not going out much. April felt quicker. Mostly due to sleeping in. Unsure if I want to extend my course at uni like I planned. A main reason for extending was for the social aspects which now would just be online. Everyone’s been cooking a lot or atleast tried. Yeast, eggs and flour have been sold out since March- just starting to see some stores have a bit of stock. A lot of contradicting reports, depends where you look, on the severity of the virus months in and still not all that much is known. USA almost halfed the original death toll a few days ago. A lot of “boomers” seek to a certain messaging app where rumoured remedies are shared such as cut onions at all corners of the room or on the feet, Boiling orange peels and spices. A lot of memes have arised about that. Meme humour is getting a little weirder. Not a lot of outside sources to create the memes so people resort to pretty dumb and pointless ones but somehow they are hilarious. This has no structure I’m really just writing anything I can think of that would be interesting lol.

What strange times we live in. I wish I would wake up and realise it was only a bad dream. I keep wondering how we arrived at this point of total upheaval, and in the blink of an eye. Had a gigantic meteor unexpectedly collided with our planet, sure. But this? My overwhelming feelings are frustration, disappointment, sadness, anger. But not fear. Not one little bit. No, I’m never going to allow them to inject me with fear. I know that’s what they want. That’s how they make us compliant. Who’s ‘they’? Our untrustworthy careerist politicians, no matter which shade of grey; our opportunistic so-called experts; our hopelessly failing mainstream media. I will not fall for their insane, irrational narrative. I will not be locked into their edificies of lies, distractions, and misinformation. I will not be drowned by endless waves of hysteria. I’m not a sheep, I’m a citizen. As such I will keep asking questions. I can think for myself. As citizens our duty is to think, to care, to be engaged, to hold to account about vital issues. So I speak out, on my website, on social media. I encourage others to think for themselves and look beyond the blatant propaganda. However, it appears the lights have gone out, at least here in Australia. Democracy, freedom and civil rights, with all their pre-existing ailments, are now on life support. There won’t be respirators for them. And they, they will just switch off the machine, cheered on by 25 million voiceless voices singing the requiem “...advance Australia, where?” For me the biggest question of all is: why does nobody else ask the hard questions? Can really nobody else see and hear what I’m seeing and hearing all around the world? So yes, there’s a sense of loneliness too.

2020 What a year so far Starts so normal Then turns bizarre At 1st, you ask Just how bad could this get? Who's gonna call an apocalyptic bet. Apocalyptic, you say? Surely you jest. Huh uh! No way. We're in for a test. Time to stand up, and see who you are. Selfish or selful Or or just plain bizarre?