Diary Entries

1219 Entries collected

RECENT ENTRIES

Name
Wendy Blaxland
Location

Wahroonga NSW 2076
Australia

WHAT BIRD IS THAT? (Australian edition) Strange multi-coloured birds dance on our clothesline. A purple Jumper fluffs its feathers, a flock of Orange-spotted Black Socks ripples in rhythmic unison and a breeze lifts the rounded belly of a Greater Turquoise Towel about to push down those massive wings to launch its heavy bulk and soar off on the air currents. Dry yet? Nope; the scudding clouds still sprinkle our strange birds sporadically with raindrops. No matter. Think I’ll let the joyous inhabitants of our extraordinary aviary enjoy their time outside.
Name
Wendy Blaxland
Location

Wahroonga NSW 2076
Australia

FINISHING THE PRUNING The old rosemary bush is lighter now. I scan it to check for spindly twigs that have escaped my stern and sculpting secateurs. Nip. Snip. Oops! A little twig holds up a spray of needle-leaves and a pale blue flower or two. They gaze at me accusingly. I decide on rosemary-scented dinner. Again? sighs the long-suffering bush. Now before I snip a twig I use my eye to follow carefully each gnarly branch through the interlacing loops of down and up and round and through it’s danced to find its space and share of sun and light and warmth to magic the miracle of flowers. I trace the years of slo-mo dancing this multi-limbed and ordinary bush has performed while we have lived our human lives at different speeds beside it. Bonsai now seems to me just a still photo taken from the long and subtle dance of life that plant and sun and time perform each day they live, unseen by human eyes. How elephantine slow we must seem to flitting humming-birds and insects on their single day’s life of mating and dancing in the sun.
Name
Reidun Berntsen
Age
28
Location

Lithgow NSW 2790
Australia

The last 7 months have been an enduring time for Australians. The 2019 bushfire season devastated the country. My town was impacted by 'the monster' Gospers Mountain fire on the 22nd of December. This wiped out the majority of a nearby small town just days before Christmas. The fire caused many towns; including mine, to be blanketed in smoke from November through to mid-January. the state of NSW had to stay inside to avoid the hazardous smoke. We endured 3 months of confinement. We rejoiced when the fires were finally extinguished and we could breathe fresh air, swim for the remainder of summer, and return to normal. We endured all this, unaware of the biological crisis that had begun to unfold on the other side of the world. One that would impact us all in the months to come. COVID19 had finally reached our country by February this year and sent us all back into the confinement of our homes for at least another 3 months. We are all feeling drained, scared, sad and lost right now. 2020 hasn’t been what we have hoped for, but it has already brought its lessons. We are now learning to adapt our lives outside of comfort zones. We are now finding different ways to work, create and educate ourselves and our children. We are now finding the true value of family and friends, especially the ones we can’t see. We are realising that as the economy is important, it isn’t the be all and end all to our existence. Through the frustration, pain, loss and terror we have found our humanity. We are more compassionate. We are taking care of love, even if it means we must do it from a distance. We are even taking care of strangers, simply by staying home.
Name
Gillian
Location

Canberra ACT 2606
Australia

Today I feel as if people are catching up with me. For the last two months, except for being mostly in iso and having to take regular time out to fill in forms in the hope of attaining the wildly ambitious goal of paying winter bills, it's been work as usual. Writing doesn't stop. Income does, but writing doesn't. It was never work as usual. Other people want to chat and forget about my deadlines. I love the chat, but work longer hours to get my work in. Today everyone who has called has accepted my time is limited because now, theirs is, too. I've always worked from home. I've been disabled for so long that not going outside for anything that's not letters, delivery or putting rubbish out is not exotic. I miss walks and I miss shopping, but I've missed them at other times. I missed them during the bushfires this year. I miss them when I hurt too much. Today I'm missing nothing. I chatted to a friend on Zoom. I will meet my deadlines. I have a phone medical appointment soon. I will meet my deadlines. I will watch Masterchef alter. I will meet my deadlines. This is because more of my friends have deadlines to meet as well. They've caught up with me.
Name
Barbara Gannon
Age
72
Location

Salamander Bay NSW 2317
Australia

A big thank you to all the frontline workers who are going to work while I am in isolation. Being one of the vulnerable – over 70 and with an underlying health issue I am very grateful they continue to go to work during these very trying times. You are very much appreciated. Thank you also to the government who has worked tirelessly to inform us and put in place measures to keep us safe. It has been heartening to see the politicians working together for a change. STAY AT HOME - the message was clear and while fear kept me at home others were completely disregarding the message and carrying on as usual. This made me very angry, how dare they put other lives at risk with their selfish disregard! My life has changed – I am now doing menu planning - when I shop I know exactly what I need, I am in and out of the supermarket in record time. No time to browse. Underlying the anxiety and fear is the sadness at the huge loss of so many lives as the death toll rises and governments try to deal with the economic and health crises. It has been interesting to see the business community diversifying and adapting in an effort to keep their businesses afloat. Aussie creativity is alive and well. There have been so many acts of kindness that have brought tears to my eyes and eased the sadness that I have felt through out this last few months. We are all adapting to our new way of life and ANZAC DAY was a prime example of how we can do things differently. It was another moment of joy to see so many of my neighbours standing on their driveways honouring the fallen.
Name
Felicity Lenehan
Location

NSW
Australia

Not Ok Today. I am not ok today, no way, Those edges, they begin to fray I look away, forget to pray Today, I’m not ok. I cannot smile, as I walk my mile All the while, like being on trial This giant bowl of not-sterile Today, I’m not ok. My house is screaming, on me they’re leaning I have stopped dreaming, The big word ‘loving’ has lost its meaning Today, I’m not ok. The world is crying, dying, horrifying Eyes are spying for not complying The tension among us is terrifying Today I’m not ok. My boy gets sick, the fix not quick Do we go into the Virus thick? The threads that hold me unstick, unpick Today we’re not ok. There comes a man, in his Ambulance van Winks, “Ok?” He does deadpan, To my housebound clan, my little man, Unwitting, we join in his game plan He makes them laugh, on my behalf In my failure as Chief of Staff Lifts off my shoulders, the burden half He tells me, “You’re ok”. “You’re doing right, keep up the fight You’re not alone, stop being polite, Keep your faith in this deep dark night, I know you’ll be ok.” His paper body walked from my home That courageous Angel left me alone But, the world, no more monochrome I think I’ll be ok. A smile from one who should not grin Who sees the Virus deep within But who yet still can see the spin, That life will be ok. A kindness, shown to one not known Kindness cut right to my bone On his breath great hope has blown I know we’ll be ok.
Name
Felicity Lenehan
Location

NSW
Australia

Swimming in the Swamp of Uncertainty. I wake up not knowing, what this week will devour In this hour, watch the News, see the ‘Socials’ wielding power What will the world come to, will life resume rush hour? I’m swimming, in the swamp of this uncertainty. Today we’re back on schools: ‘Our kids are fine, they’re safe aplenty’ Says Scomo, versing Gladys, and the parents at number 20 But polio, it crippled – the “later effect” cry cognoscenti We’re swimming, in the swamp of this uncertainty. I wade on through the wake up, a prickly feeling on my shoulder I go upon my morning walk, only feeling older What to do with this day, stretching far and blurry yonder Around me sucks, the swamp of this uncertainty. I see upskilling, reconnecting, houses straight, losing weight Feel something big is going to happen, so, hanging, I must wait Kids ask, ‘will that man, on TV, reopen the floodgate?’ I shrug swallowed, in the swamp of this uncertainty. He says, ‘It’s eighteen months, and we will not let up yet’ That day I stick to nothing; I twitch, forget, roulette Kids pick up this, half do that, waiting for something to onset We wade around, the swamp of this uncertainty. I breathe deep breath, the day is done, and for sure it’s this is I know This life has beautiful things for us; uncertainty we just borrow For hope, happiness, love and kindness, will come fresh tomorrow And we’ll farewell, this awful swamp of the uncertainty.
Name
Billie Dean
Location

Braidwood NSW 2622
Australia

I think words are important in a pandemic. Social isolation is cold and clinical. But here in Australia as the temperatures plummet south, "cocooning" or "snuggling in" could be a more positive way to describe it. I'm one of the people who have treasured this time. Here in the bush we had a summer of bushfire hell. The pandemic has given us time to breath. And begin to heal. Our materialistic world was built on a foundation of stress and rushing destruction. But a virus halted all of that. Perhaps the virus saved us from ourselves. I work from home anyway, and we homeschooled our daughter and loved it. It helped us focus on family and creativity. Today, I'm loving the reduced traffic to the city, and the relaxed faces of the people still working there. People have slowed down and remembered they love to connect. There is increased kindness and support. Even more homeless animals are finding homes. And the air feels cleaner. This pause from the daily grind is a wonderful opportunity to push the reset button, and to think about the kind of world we really want. The kind of life we really want. There's a lot of work to be done to disengage from an old and painful paradigm, but if people see the hope in a new normal, then we have a chance to create a more peaceful, joy-filled, kind future for all species.
Name
Monika Gyi
Age
33
Location

Croydon NSW 2132
Australia

'Teaching After Lockdown' (continued) The state of constant vigilance and being suspicious of everyone is exhausting. Adrenalin-filled espionage films make it look easy. In reality, the perpetual high alert, fight-or-flight mode saps your life force and morphs you into a sluggish puddle of woe. Where has that person been? Have they been diligently washing their hands for the recommended twenty seconds? Was that a sneeze? Is that a post-nasal drip cough or something more sinister? Oh God! I touched my face! AAARGH! Aaaand I’m done. I am a puddle of woe. Short bursts of essential social interaction – a trip to the supermarket for supplies, a dash to the chemist – these are tiring enough. The slog of a full day in a still-open workplace, especially in a school populated with hundreds of students, each one of them a haven for contagion – it is too much to be borne. The atmosphere in the staffroom is tense. People dance around each other awkwardly to keep distance (difficult when there are so many darned desks, filing cabinets and bookshelves about), and recoil from one another when they both reach for the fridge door at the same time. ‘No, you go ahead – make yourself a coffee first.’ (Oh God, they’ve picked up the milk bottle. How am I going to sanitise it without offending them? Maybe I’ll just have a black coffee, or none at all. Dang. Retreat while they’re distracted. Fabricate an excuse if they ask why you’re backing away from the fridge. ‘I, um, forgot to pick up my photocopying, mumble…’ DASH!) Simmering underneath the paranoia of spreading infection is a deep dissatisfaction, sense of futility and bitter resentment. The government has shown its true colours regarding the value they place on the work of teachers.
Name
Annabel Needs
Age
56
Location

Cromer NSW 2099
Australia

The door slides open and she enters the waiting room unsmiling. I read my diagnosis on her face and in the bundle of paperwork she carries, and as she beckons me into the counselling room, I tell myself I’ll manage. The news isn’t good but I’ll most likely keep my breast and my life. Wuhan has hit the headlines now, but we sit cheek to jowl in the overflowing doctors’ suite, waiting to see our respective surgeons. Mine is beautiful; warm, caring, compassionate and a wonderful communicator. I immediately feel reassured and know that I am in the best possible hands. News of the pandemic worsens and I worry my operation may be cancelled. Thankfully it goes ahead and is successful. My lymph nodes are clear and at 56 I have the breasts of a 20 year old. I decide to call them Grace and Frankie in honour of the series that has brought so much laughter into my life over the last few weeks. I recover well, and visits from loved ones fuel my sense of optimism and wellbeing. It’s March and we are now in shut down. As a single woman, there is not one person I can sit beside, let alone hug. The lack of physical affection exacerbates my sense of isolation and after managing this episode in my life so well, I begin to unravel. I complete 4 weeks of radiation treatment. The burns and fatigue intensify along with the loneliness and nothing feels normal. I weep at the smallest thing and yearn for a shoulder to cry on in the most literal sense. My return to work saves me and I begin to heal in the company of my colleagues and the preschoolers I teach. I am lucky to be alive and employed.