Diary Entries

The world is still spinning, the virus keeps spreading. We unite by standing still Day comes night and night comes day. Rise, the sun will keep shining

I am one of the lucky ones. My life hasn't changed much since a pandemic took over the world. I still have a job. I still work full time. A homebody with no real friendship group to speak of, the loss of socialising hasn't affected me that much. Of course things are different. I do miss my family. Board game nights with my brothers. Date nights with my fiancee. These days the only place I go other than work is the supermarket, and if I didn't like grocery shopping before this, I certainly don't like it any more now. This panic buying and hoarding is just pathetic. We're all scared, but hundreds of rolls of toilet paper, packets of spaghetti and liters of hand soap is not the answer. There has always been more than enough for everyone, but some choose to be selfish and the rest go without. Having turned 30 at the beginning of the year I didn't know how the start of my third decade alive would go; I certainly didn't anticipate this. Perhaps my fiancee and I would finally get married, we'd sell our place and move somewhere bigger, maybe take our first overseas trip together (her first time overseas). But instead we got COVID-19. And while I have the greatest respect for healthcare workers, emergency personnel, supermarket employees, anyone on the front line, all of whom I cannot thank enough; this pandemic has proven one thing. People are selfish, and Australian "mateship" is a myth. People are looking out for themselves. Grabbing as much as they can, everyone else be damned. People are having parties, whinging about being put up in 5-star hotels, while the vulnerable are dying and the true superheroes are risking their lives so you can live another day.

Diary of an independent publisher: The rain is falling and it’s cold outside, I can see the garden from where I’m sitting. I would like a Japanese garden. I am drinking a cup of Chai. Earlier, I took a hot-cross bun from the freezer and toasted it. There are roasted vegetables in the fridge, left over from Tuesday night. I contemplate COVID. I touch my face. I need a shave. The rain fall becomes heavier. I put on a jumper and start writing. In the late afternoon I water indoor plants and go through a box of old photos. Later, I shave and then drive into town to shop, have coffee and to buy fish and chips. It is still raining. Back home I unwrap my chow on the kitchen bench and add lemon and salt and cut bread. I am dressed well. So well I would feel comfortable going to a movie premiere in this garb tonight. But I won’t be doing that. I grab napkins and turn on the heater. I turn on Spotify. Pieces of a Dream. The sun comes out in time for a sunset. www.thelastpostmagazine.com

We arrive just before 3:30. A notice on the door says "due to the COVID-19 outbreak only two patients are allowed in the surgery. Please knock and wait for the receptionist." I knock, and we wait. Anna, the receptionist, opens the door. She is wearing PPE and holding an infrared thermometer. She asks us to stand well apart on opposite sides of the room where she takes our temperatures. We all sterilise our hands. T goes in to get his flu jab. I reflect on how quiet it is. Doctor Patricia is an Uruguayan who serves the large Spanish and Portuguese population in our area. Her surgery is usually busy, with up to eight - typically elderly - patients packed in the tiny waiting room. Today it's just me. I ask Anna if they're busy. Not really, she says. Everyone is keeping away for fear of contracting COVID-19 from the surgery, despite the rigorous cleaning routine. They can't be too careful; both Patricia and Anna are around my age, late fifties, not high-risk age-wise, but certainly at risk of repeated exposure to the virus. T thanks Patricia and Anna for "being in the front line and looking out for us". Patricia's eyes light up, and I can tell she is beaming under her face-mask. Anna looks embarrassed, mutters 'de nada' and waves his thanks away, but she also looks pleased. Anna leads the way to the door, unlocks it, and stands on the footpath, allowing us to leave. An older couple is waiting to come in; Anna asks them to stand back so we can go. I smile at the couple; they smile back. We say our goodbyes and walk back to the car while the couple enter the surgery with Anna waiting with her PPE and infrared thermometer.

I am relieved that I have a chance to slow down and reassess my priorities. I didn't realise I was going through life on autopilot. I walk along the coastline almost every day and cook slowly like my grandparents used to. I am grateful that I have a stable and rewarding job at a time of uncertainty. *** I miss laughing with my friends at the pub. I drink too much now on weeknights because I feel unsettled. I am exhausted by being compelled to be on screens all day for work and now for social interaction. It's not an adequate alternative for real life. *** I'm trying to find a way to acknowledge all those poor people who are sick or passed away without getting sucked into a dark place. I guess this is a lesson about balance.

This whole period hasn't changed my day to day in that I am fortunate to have a With regard to the Hibernation period. I think there are two aspects to it, Finding things you enjoy doing (or simply being) and Staying Emotionally positive. 1. Meditate every morning for 10 minutes. 2.Write a to do list for each day and 5 things I am grateful for 3. Focus on making sure other people are ok it takes the focus off self: try and contact someone every day that I know. Plus I ring my mum daily and have a long video call with her. She lives on her own and thrives on people contact. She has just put her partner in a home and they won’t let her see him. I know apart from her zoom guitar and yoga lessons she is lonely. So I know that this helps her to speak with someone. Zoom calls Or house party are a great way to get together and catch up as a group. I make craft videos for the grand children and message it to them so it continues what we used to do here. I am doing a painting lesson for Kym Ellery on Friday night. She is locked down in Paris so I thought it would be fun. I have seen people start virtual book clubs. 4. I minimise watching the news! I watch things that make me reflect or make me happy. I have also revisited Dijon through my drawings in a small book as I was meant to be there right now.

I'm a student studying at home. I haven't been out the house for weeks now. I have only seen my friends through the lifeless screens of my laptop and phone. I thought online learning would be easy but it is really hard to stay focused at home. I first heard of corona virus through the Tik Tok app. I thought it was a phase and it would go away. I never would have thought it would come to this.

I retired three years ago so I am used to living alone. My friends have made my life a delight and at least twice a month, I have the pleasure of their company for lunch. Sadly, this is no longer an option. We still keep in touch by phone and email - not the same. One group of friends have decided that jigsaw puzzles are the way to go. My efforts found my dining room table, my sideboard and my coffee table covered with pieces. Nearly finished it when my son decide to visit with the children to celebrate my birthday. Farewell jigsaw. New one coming up. Walking has always been a pleasure for me and I have kept this up because it is a physical and a mental exercise. Interesting here, is that more people are finding this to be a suitable pass time, there are many more people on the street. Best of all, people have been communicating their pleasure by genuinely smiling and waving and saying “good morning”. People seem more community oriented and I love it. The worst was missing my grand-children’s physical presence. A cuddle was each of us hugging ourselves and a kiss was just an air kiss two metres away. When they left after each of their visits (two in two months), my tears welled up …. but then I got on with my jigsaw puzzle. I’ve been trying to buy a house, but it's impossible. There have been no new listings in my area for a month. People are not selling and numbers of buyers are growing, thus the prices here do not seem to have eased much, here - even growing.

I guess life should return to normal sometime. We have most likely flattened the curve and we are coming out of lockdown, slowly. Will life return to normal soon? I'm not sure. I was at home for anywhere from two and a half to three months, I don't know, because I've lost track of time. Only now I've gone back to school and this is my second day of being back in the classroom. It's been a strange experience working from home. Before I didn't appreciate being at school, I found it to be quite an annoyance, but now after all this madness, I feel that I'm very lucky that I have a classroom to go to and an education.  

My wife and I are active seniors (both in our seventies) and have been in lockdown for the past few weeks because of the COVID 19 emergency. I believe the two things that have helped us are our regular routine including our interests (such as reading, the occasional movie/documentary, keeping up with current events, reaching out to family and friends via social media,regular exercise,sewing) and our vibrant Chriatian faith and service. A highlight of each week has been a Zoom meeting with our three adult children in two states and the UK along with their families. We have missed corporate worship and service at our local Salvation Army Corps but have been enriched by exercising our faith with daily devotions and live streaming of worship meetings. I have continued leading my weekly Bible Study group via Zoom also. Another challenge has been to contact and support my wife's parents (both in their nineties and living in their own home) with doing their shopping and keeping in regular contact. I am aware that we have weathered this emergency well personally and our country in generally. 2020 has been a tough year for many.