Diary Entries

As lockdown lifts People go out My little heart Wants to shout We have this chance To start again With peace and unity If not now, when? Let's not rush back To being ruled my greed Let's slowly walk Towards what we need Respect for First Nations People and land Drop our defences Walk hand in hand Restore this earth Provide for all Listen and learn Only then we can stand tall.

This was our song to get us through home schooling, when neither of us could concentrate and we had red eye from screens, this rap song seemed to meet our needs.... Covid 19 we all want to scream covid 19 it’s a live machine even the queen went on the screen we woke up in a cluster it’s a bit lacklustre no we were not dreaming and we all started screaming and then we started believing that coronas really dealing dodgey proteins with hot wheels on so where to from here the antibodies are getting clear don’t think we can wait the vaccines will be too late we went for a bike ride this morning then skaters came out without warning we really like them too but they seem to want to stick to us like glue Oh the party’s all over on the princess the ruby’s gone back in the cabinet well she'll have to change her name if she wants to sail again well Bo Jo had a shocker Trump went off his rocker Now its quarter to 3 I have to get a hold of Jay Z I know he luvs a cuppa tea Covid 19 we all want to scream.....

So it’s nearly over. Restrictions are lifting but here in WA we have remained steadfast in keeping those pesky eastern staters from our borders. Richard Court Snr’s dream of succession has come about by stealth. I bet he’s chuckling in his grave. I wonder what we have learned through this time of isolation? Have we slowed down to appreciate the quiet and time for reflection and introspection? For those of us who were deemed essential but could work from home (lucky me), our days were interrupted. Our routines askew. Days spent in endless “Teams” or “zoom” meetings. No travel time needed so meetings are backed up to each other. No room for the corridor chatter or the niceties that happen at a face to face meeting. the empathy gap palpable. Many days I have begun at 6am then looked up from my screen at 5 pm realising that I hadn’t been to the bathroom all day or taken a drop of water. I worry for my kidneys. I have like many, taken on some “Covid curves”. It will take months to get rid of them, but how nice to say “see my COVID curves?” I worry for my dogs, who for the past 3 months have sat at my feet whilst I worked. Who have been walked and groomed and fed on time (a rarity in our house under normal circumstances”. What will they do when I return to the office? We, like many, started a “pandemic” project, thinking we would have all this extra time. So we pulled out the bathroom and kitchen and knocked endless holes in walls. But the extra time didn’t manifest and the project remains incomplete. It looks like our beautiful little house has had a pandemic of its own. Here’s to post pandemic living!

POETS' FARE How much I find delight in poetry With verses not long; one liners are best. Stanzas are trimmed and cut to simpleness Devoid of pageantry and pompous words. I love the ones with landscape thoughts; A portrait only minds can draw or paint. Instead of pictures, words are inscribed Designed to amaze, awe and inspire. I walk along the trail that poets leave Their stories, like my own, are found on the road of life. Some are epics of better and mis-spent days They give lessons to ponder under this covid mess. Somewhere in between the lines I'm caught In a trance lost to a forest of all that I believed Forgetting the time that passes by I'm soaked, immersed in words of the poets' fare.

During the second week of the COVID-19 shutdown, my partner suggested that it might be a good idea for us both to start writing projects. The idea was that writing would be a tool to show our feelings and to also “get things off our chest”. We have both been writers in the past and this was an opportunity to not only get our thoughts down, but to also fine tune our writing skills. The objective was to commit to a certain number of words per day and try to meet that target every single day. Our target was a relatively simple 300 words per day. After a week or so I needed to up the ante to 500 per day. The rules were not onerous. You can write about any subject that you choose. Just get into the habit and try and achieve the goal each day. I commenced writing on 30th March and have been writing every day since then. There was only one day I missed my goal, but I more than made up for it the next day. After 10 weeks I have written more than 35,000 words. While they could be on any subject, in the main their focus has been on current events and my feelings during the pandemic. What started as a daily blog, turned into an essay, and then morphed into the genesis of a book. It is not for publication as I don’t think too many would really want to read it. But I intend to find a way to preserve the project in some form, so that future generations of my family can see what I experienced during the COVID-19 pandemic of 2020. I just wish my grandparents had done the same during the Spanish flu in 1919.

I must say ... one thing I continue to love during these COVID times is the lack of air traffic nearby and overhead! I was sorry to read in The Diary Files that this phenomenon is not so greatly appreciated by some people who feel 'imprisoned' in Australia; and that the planes taking off and landing reminded them that there was a chance to get back home to their place of comfort eventually. Life has taken on a slower pace ... the weather and various bird calls (one of the many benefits of no noisy aircraft) are much higher up my list of daily wonders now as I sit at my window desk and look out on the street while I work. Who can tell when our borders will open up to the world of international flights again? I wonder when the airport is going to be moved out of Sydney ...?

Last Thursday my strength and balance class resumed after closing down for Covid 19 isolations. We were all sent some sheets of exercises modified to do at home but good intentions etc... when I arrived at our resumed class there were only four of us instead of our usual 18! Near the door was a table with five notices stuck to it. How to sneeze, how to cough, wash your hands, etc. Hand sanitizer was there along with a bottle of industrial strength disinfectant for our weights which were unbelievably shiny, having been cleaned before we came. Exercises were modified so we weren’t close and there was a little exchange about our isolation. One lady had built a besser brick couch in her back yard and covered in mosaic. Good to be back. Once visitors were allowed to homes my Friday coffee resumed at our house. Four former work mates we have been meeting at a cafe in town for over a decade and we have missed our weekly chats sorely. Our lounge room is big enough for us to space out and we’ve caught up over the last three weeks. When our regular coffee shop opens again we’ll resume our regular spots and hope no second wave stops our weekly heart to hearts. Jan Hunter

WHO declared coronavirus outbreak a pandemic on March 11th. On March 6th, residents of our block convened a meeting to voice local issues. Two of 25 residents attending were wearing face masks. A few days later, our Strata Manager cautioned we should consider deferring all face-to-face meetings in the rapidly escalating pandemic. This meeting was held on the day Australia confirmed its 100th coronavirus case. The Prime Minister announced closure of border with China after a Chinese national who flew into Melbourne on January 19th tested positive. By, coronavirus infection exploded to more than 2,000 confirmed cases – most have recovered. To reduce the risk of imported infections, Australia acted fast and quickly closed international borders on March 20th . On March 19th, I watched the Ruby Princess dock at Sydney’s Circular Quay, with 2,700 passengers and crew disembarking . By April 22, there were nearly 700 confirmed cases and 20 deaths linked to Ruby Princess. The months of March and April experienced the height of the pandemic - deadliest pandemic in a century. Restrictions began to ease in NSW in late May. I began to wonder whether our recollection of the public outcry over the Ruby Princess debacle was still so daunting, and whether we had learnt the lessons, when thousands rallied on June 6th for “Black Lives Matter” protest in Sydney. Any outbreaks related to these rallies would be evident the following week. Rally banners echoed the last words of George Floyd and also perhaps that of ailing COVID-19 patients - “I can’t breathe”. We are still treating the symptoms of this dangerous disease. There is no vaccine to prevent COVID-19. Since March 6th meeting, I haven’t risked going out to keep COVID-19 at bay.

Always grateful to been born an Aussie. My simple life hasn’t changed, both casual jobs are essential, and I spending most of my time at home. My housemate is a full time essential worker who spends a fair amount of time at home. Our pets are our kids and are used to having us around. My mum died July last year, my dad 19 yrs ago just after 9/11. I miss them dearly. I think about how frighten they would be if still alive at 88 & 92. All this extra money the govt has handed out, I’d be “entitled” to as I “could” get benefits. None for me. When I was made redundant a couple of years ago I chose to financially struggle on and not add stresses of govt “help” of reporting and applying for hundreds of jobs. (Over 300 jobs applied for a won two, I work between 9 & 20 hrs a week, and average third of my previous average wage.) In the midst of renovation so we had lots of tradies still working, traipsing in and out, helping the economy. (Renovations are funded by the money my parents didn’t need as they never went into age care.) Yes I’be been privileged with loving families. (Adoptive, birth and friends). I’d be indebted to the hilt and work 100 hrs a week to have them healthily back. Planned a caravan holiday for all of June, currently postponed Basically Covid-19 has had no impact on my life. Except missing my one regular visitor, my best mate of about 35 yrs. And one late night phone call from another close friend hospitalised with Covid-19 who was told he was on the edge of death, he survived and doesn’t remember that call. Xxx

I was forced to come living in Australia four years and a half ago; and I am forced to stay. One of the things that saved me from depression is the existence of planes. I smile anytime I drive near Kingsford Smith because I know I can escape, it is physically possible for me to just enter the airport, empty my bank account on a counter, and fly away from this place. But not anymore. The end of international flights has cut my last rope of hope, my last link with the elsewhere I want to come back to. I am now effectively prisoner of a country I do not like and where I did not ask to live. I met an Australian in my country years ago, after our child was born she talked me into migrating here, and she abandoned me on arrival. I am staying here because this is the only way I can be with my daughter. I dare you to tell me to leave. I will, eventually, once my daughter is big enough. But for the moment, I stay with her, where she needs me. The irony is, she wants to be a plane pilot. Maybe someday she can fly me away. Until then, I do my best. I have no choice but to stay here so I may as well try to make it a better place. Covid or not, I don't make waves, I don't ask for anything, I try my best to give around, to bond, to help those like me who wonder what the hell they are doing in this country. There is more like us than you would imagine. But my daughter asks me when there will be planes again. Without them, this place feels much more heavy to us.