Dear Susan,
Well the Covid-19 virus is still rampant-ing wildly across the world, which by the way we've just discovered doesn't really have borders
The big issue of this week is the shortage of flour. I can't fathom it. I bought flour once and it grew moths before it grew anything baked.
I asked Auntie Jan about the flour thing and she said:
'Well you need it to make cakes!' .. Hello!!! Cake Mixes!!!
'Well, you need it to make pancakes!... Hello, Shaker packs? Just add water!!
'Well,, you need it to coat fish before frying it' ...Hello...Fish n Chip Shops!!!
Make pasta? Hello, 50 different pasta shapes already packed in the supermarket.
To make bread? Hello, people get up at 3am to bake it. I don't want to put them out of a job.
I don't look for flour any more. I figure if I've lived without it for 73 years I don't knead' it now.
See what I did there?
In other news, David Beckham's son Brooklyn has moved in with his girlfriend.
I think I saw a plane fly overhead the other day, although it could have been a UFO
The King of Thailand has booked out an entire Alpine Hotel for the quarantine period. He is isolating with 20 concubines 4 wives and 600 staff. Don't know if the kids are with him.
Doctors are pleading with hospital visitors not to steal face masks hand sanitiser or toilet paper from their loved one's rooms unless of course... they are no longer.
I cleaned out my fridge because I am buying two weeks supply of food at a time and I thought I could have found the cure for Covid -19 in the crisper, but it was just a squishy hairy zucchini.
There are new rules for gatherings as well.
I write them on whiteboards because they change every day.
For example, you are only allowed to have 5 people at a wedding, which could really piss off one set of parents. I'm ok with mine. So far I only have four people and I'm just missing a groom.
You are permitted to have 10 people at a funeral not including the deceased. This could be a problem if I cark it.
3 daughters, 9 grandchildren 1 brother, 2 sons-in-law, 1 wasband and maybe 1 friend. =17
Can you imagine the arguments:
"So you should go. You're the oldest"
"I saw her last week so I'm good"
" I'm not really a blood relative. You should go"
" God we've been divorced for 25 years. Why the hell should I go?"
" Well, I didn't really know her that well. You can have my spot"
"Oh, mum do I have to go? Ozzie and I have a conference call about an important school assignment this afternoon"
It will probably be just me, the box and the cremator. just realised the only difference between the creator and the cremator is an 'm'
Most people here are living in leisurewear (pyjamas) or activewear. You can guess my preference. I can only wear pyjamas because after 2 weeks in isolation nothing else fits me. I've never been a comfort eater before but now I'm eating so comfortably I can't move.
That's the thing about being locked up; my facial hair is forming dreadlocks. My toenails are longer than my toes. Slob is too elegant a word to describe my appearance right now. but I DON'T CARE. Well, actually I do care sometimes. Like, occasionally I put on makeup to go to the shower.
Some people are dressing up in ball gowns just to take the garbage out. I tell you, it's NUTS down here
Because all the restaurants and cafes are in lockdown, people have had to cook for themselves, except me. Eloise threw two lasagnes at me on a drive by the other day, Josie made me two servings of pumpkin soup on Sunday and brother Ben brought me some leftover green chicken curry yesterday. The chicken wasn't green thank goodness, in fact, it was delicious Any way I have so much food here I'm thinking of opening my own dinner delivery service
.
It's not fun being on your own 24/7 I do try to get out for a walk every couple of months but even then I have to walk 1.5 metres apart from the person I might be walking with. which makes conversation difficult because we are all deaf.
I was beginning to feel very alone. Then in my spam box there appeared an advertisement for a singles dating site, very reputable, very discrete, very safe and specifically for the elderly, vulnerable demographic. Yes I know I haven't had much luck with these experiments before (see earlier letters) but this would be different. I would seduce some old guy online, keep the relationship going with lies being issued from both sides. We would never be able to meet because of social distancing. It would be a sort of remote Fantasy Affair that turns out virtually happily ever after. There it is " Love in the Time of Corona" My next book!!!
Now the Muse has hit I must put quill to parchment and get on with it. Apparently, great works of art have been produced in times of pandemics. This could be my time to shine.
Give everyone up there a hug for me, please. Hugs are a luxury here at the moment.
Miss you so much
Love Janet
xxxxx
Thursday, April 9, 2020
Saturday, March 28, 2020
pandemic1
Dear Susan,
Don't know if the news has reached Heaven yet but the Earth is undergoing a Pandemic of Toilet Paper shortage. It began when a virus started spreading through China and finally reached Coles and Woolworths in Australia.
Everyone is Pan(dem)ic buying and the supermarket shelves are as empty as my social calendar.
It has become so serious that most of the world has gone into lockdown so everything is closed, except for hairdressing salons and schools, which count as essential services.
Doctors and nurses and those on the frontline have no way of protecting themselves in their dangerous workplaces because they don't have enough masks, latex gloves, hand sanitiser, ventilating machines for their patients. or sleep. They are keeping the world running on compassion and adrenalin.
No flights are allowed to leave or arrive in Austalia unless there are important people on them, like Mr Dutton. However, cruise ships are allowed to dock in Sydney and other ports and expose the country to 2000 potential epidemic terrorists at any time. We managed to turn back boats of desperate, displaced asylum seekers but we couldn't stop a cruise ship full of wined, dined and infected passengers.
Anyway the world's 'leaders' are all giving us advice on how to survive this crisis. Each of the 150 countries affected give us 150 different updates every thirty minutes. I guess it will all work out. I only tune into New Zealand's Prime Minister anyway. She speaks like a real person not like a demented self-serving pollie. The American President does say some excellent, very good, sometimes silly, occasionally ridiculous words but he doesn't say them in any sequence so no one knows what he's talking about.
The main message we are all being given is to STAY AT HOME. Which is sensible for those of us who have one but a bit difficult for the 100,000 Australians who don't.
The self-isolating part of this process can be a bit challenging. I started off ok but after 5 hours I was completely over it. I mean it's ok for Eloise, she has a husband and five kids around her every day to keep her company. Maybe I do have the better deal.
I read two books on the first day without feeling guilty!!! I'm not able to go to the nursing home to visit Beryl because it's in lockdown. Felt a little bit relieved about that but now wondering how she's coping with the isolation.
Before my total imprisonment, Josie and Talullah and Bronwyn came over for dinner a couple of times which was lovely. But in their caring way, they didn't want to put me at risk of exposure because I'm in the 'elderly vulnerable' category. Think they were a little bit relieved about that, as I was about not being able to visit Beryl. There are two thousand and three white tiles on my bathroom floor. and 42 black ones, The black ones are triangular and the white ones are square. I had such high hopes for what I was going to achieve during these three weeks of imposed lockdown.
Don't know if the news has reached Heaven yet but the Earth is undergoing a Pandemic of Toilet Paper shortage. It began when a virus started spreading through China and finally reached Coles and Woolworths in Australia.
Everyone is Pan(dem)ic buying and the supermarket shelves are as empty as my social calendar.
It has become so serious that most of the world has gone into lockdown so everything is closed, except for hairdressing salons and schools, which count as essential services.
Doctors and nurses and those on the frontline have no way of protecting themselves in their dangerous workplaces because they don't have enough masks, latex gloves, hand sanitiser, ventilating machines for their patients. or sleep. They are keeping the world running on compassion and adrenalin.
No flights are allowed to leave or arrive in Austalia unless there are important people on them, like Mr Dutton. However, cruise ships are allowed to dock in Sydney and other ports and expose the country to 2000 potential epidemic terrorists at any time. We managed to turn back boats of desperate, displaced asylum seekers but we couldn't stop a cruise ship full of wined, dined and infected passengers.
Anyway the world's 'leaders' are all giving us advice on how to survive this crisis. Each of the 150 countries affected give us 150 different updates every thirty minutes. I guess it will all work out. I only tune into New Zealand's Prime Minister anyway. She speaks like a real person not like a demented self-serving pollie. The American President does say some excellent, very good, sometimes silly, occasionally ridiculous words but he doesn't say them in any sequence so no one knows what he's talking about.
The main message we are all being given is to STAY AT HOME. Which is sensible for those of us who have one but a bit difficult for the 100,000 Australians who don't.
The self-isolating part of this process can be a bit challenging. I started off ok but after 5 hours I was completely over it. I mean it's ok for Eloise, she has a husband and five kids around her every day to keep her company. Maybe I do have the better deal.
I read two books on the first day without feeling guilty!!! I'm not able to go to the nursing home to visit Beryl because it's in lockdown. Felt a little bit relieved about that but now wondering how she's coping with the isolation.
Before my total imprisonment, Josie and Talullah and Bronwyn came over for dinner a couple of times which was lovely. But in their caring way, they didn't want to put me at risk of exposure because I'm in the 'elderly vulnerable' category. Think they were a little bit relieved about that, as I was about not being able to visit Beryl. There are two thousand and three white tiles on my bathroom floor. and 42 black ones, The black ones are triangular and the white ones are square. I had such high hopes for what I was going to achieve during these three weeks of imposed lockdown.
- Marie Kondo everything
- Sort out the five half-written novels in my desk
- Paint the unit
- Create an exercise circuit in my loungeroom
- Clean the oven.
- Set up a new business venture
- Cook enough meals for winter
- Knit jumpers for all my grandchildren. (They love those)
- Take up a new hobby like fashion design and creation.
- Write letters to people I haven't seen since Tuesday
- Find my perfect match on an online dating site
- Shower
- Read all the books in '1000 Books To Read Before You Die'
- Wash my hair.
- Change the sheets on my bed
- Clean the lint out of the clothes drier
So far I have Googled 'How to Clean Oven Racks without using Chemicals'. I now know how to do it but haven't actually done it yet.
I've done some extreme colouring-in, checked my emails/ phone messages every five minutes because it's the only contact I have with anyone.
I would take the garbage out but that would mean I'd have to get dressed
Last night I thought I might get a kitten to cuddle but then I snapped myself back to reality to realise I didn't have enough TP to toilet train it.
There are a lot more things I could tell you but this lockdown is going to last for the rest of my life, so I'll leave some until tomorrow, or next year.
We are living through a very surreal time down here and I'm wondering if it's Nature's way of telling us to slow down and take care of the things that matter like each other and the planet.
If you run into some experts up there could you please ask them for some advice? We are all a little confused by it down here and many of us are asking for some help from above.
I hope if there is a pandemic up there it's one of joy, laughter, happiness and harmless practical jokes. We need more of those in our lives and our deaths I guess.
As I sit at home alone I think about all the people I love and have loved, and all I know is that I wish that the last time I saw them, I'd hugged them all longer and much tighter.
Love always, and a longer tighter hug
Janet
Saturday, February 22, 2020
At Seventeen
Dear Susan,
I suppose it all came to a peak or mound just before I turned seventy. There I was. Sunday. Cleaning lint out of the drier. I wondered. Why if I put clothes that are every colour of the spectrum into the drier does the lint always come out grey?
Questions like that fill the windmills of my mind ad nauseam.
As I turned on my electronic device Spotify began to play me 'their' selection of 'my' weekly favourites. How the f#*k did Spotify know that I wanted to hear Latin American Swing Hits of the Forties, and Tear-Jerking laments on a Sunday morning?
The song playing at that very moment was Janis Ian's 'At Seventeen'. Once upon a time when I'd been seventeen, it was my go to song during my"I'm going to run away and join a circus freakshow' moments or the ever-present 'Guess I'll have to join a nunnery' times Had there been internet dating at that time my profile would have read:
" Plain, introverted, intelligent, street non-savvy, naive but at least lacking in personality, Call me"
Anyway whilst listening to Janis singing about "inventing lovers on the phone, Who called to say come dance with me" I thought that the whole song could become revived for the baby boomers.
Sing along with me. Everyone knows the tune.
"I learned the truth at seventy
That aches were meant for those like me,
And senior folk with sunken smiles
Who'd married young and lived through trials.
The children that we all outgrew
Who took our youth and then shot through
Who came to see us now and then
They're women now and grownup men
And those of us with dribbling faces,
Bingo calls in old age spaces
Desperately contained in rooms
And thinking of what future looms
With bones that creak and parts that leak.....
It isn't all it seems at seventy"
I guess as we all related to Janis Ian at seventeen we may still be relating to her now. But She isn't like my picture of the seventy-year-olds who I watch in nursing homes. She is an activist with opinions that are relevant and she speaks them.
Everyone has their own version of what every age looks like I guess.
Like, at fifty I was married, in love, had three beautiful daughters, a job and a future.
At sixty I was divorced, still in love, had three beautiful daughters, a successful business and a future.
At seventy I was still divorced, still in love, had three beautiful daughters, two fantastic sons in law, nine delightful grandchildren, no business no job. And as I perceived it no future or purpose
I was in a shit space. In a decade I had lost my dad, my sister/best friend/soulmate, (yes YOU) and my mum.
My sister- in law had developed terminal frontal lobe semantic dementia, my brother-in-law was in a nursing home with Lewy Body Disease, the planet was completing its free fall into extinction and the world was living with fear instead of love.
Sometimes I got into a shit space and found it difficult to move. But I can always move now.
Sometimes I feel like a bright spark at the bottom of a dark hole.
Wow. As Tess would say
"Gee Nan, That escalated very quickly"
And it certainly did. I needed that though. I'm writing again and all because I visited Aunty Barb in the Aged care unit yesterday. She sends her regards I think she said 'Hello From The Other Side.'
Promise I will be more upbeat next time
I miss you and love you always
Janet
PS Do you think the At Seventy song could be a hit if I could got Janis Ian to sing it?
I suppose it all came to a peak or mound just before I turned seventy. There I was. Sunday. Cleaning lint out of the drier. I wondered. Why if I put clothes that are every colour of the spectrum into the drier does the lint always come out grey?
Questions like that fill the windmills of my mind ad nauseam.
As I turned on my electronic device Spotify began to play me 'their' selection of 'my' weekly favourites. How the f#*k did Spotify know that I wanted to hear Latin American Swing Hits of the Forties, and Tear-Jerking laments on a Sunday morning?
The song playing at that very moment was Janis Ian's 'At Seventeen'. Once upon a time when I'd been seventeen, it was my go to song during my"I'm going to run away and join a circus freakshow' moments or the ever-present 'Guess I'll have to join a nunnery' times Had there been internet dating at that time my profile would have read:
" Plain, introverted, intelligent, street non-savvy, naive but at least lacking in personality, Call me"
Anyway whilst listening to Janis singing about "inventing lovers on the phone, Who called to say come dance with me" I thought that the whole song could become revived for the baby boomers.
Sing along with me. Everyone knows the tune.
"I learned the truth at seventy
That aches were meant for those like me,
And senior folk with sunken smiles
Who'd married young and lived through trials.
The children that we all outgrew
Who took our youth and then shot through
Who came to see us now and then
They're women now and grownup men
And those of us with dribbling faces,
Bingo calls in old age spaces
Desperately contained in rooms
And thinking of what future looms
With bones that creak and parts that leak.....
It isn't all it seems at seventy"
I guess as we all related to Janis Ian at seventeen we may still be relating to her now. But She isn't like my picture of the seventy-year-olds who I watch in nursing homes. She is an activist with opinions that are relevant and she speaks them.
Everyone has their own version of what every age looks like I guess.
Like, at fifty I was married, in love, had three beautiful daughters, a job and a future.
At sixty I was divorced, still in love, had three beautiful daughters, a successful business and a future.
At seventy I was still divorced, still in love, had three beautiful daughters, two fantastic sons in law, nine delightful grandchildren, no business no job. And as I perceived it no future or purpose
I was in a shit space. In a decade I had lost my dad, my sister/best friend/soulmate, (yes YOU) and my mum.
My sister- in law had developed terminal frontal lobe semantic dementia, my brother-in-law was in a nursing home with Lewy Body Disease, the planet was completing its free fall into extinction and the world was living with fear instead of love.
Sometimes I got into a shit space and found it difficult to move. But I can always move now.
Sometimes I feel like a bright spark at the bottom of a dark hole.
Wow. As Tess would say
"Gee Nan, That escalated very quickly"
And it certainly did. I needed that though. I'm writing again and all because I visited Aunty Barb in the Aged care unit yesterday. She sends her regards I think she said 'Hello From The Other Side.'
Promise I will be more upbeat next time
I miss you and love you always
Janet
PS Do you think the At Seventy song could be a hit if I could got Janis Ian to sing it?
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