Out of Isolation. Days 61-63. Conspiracy theories and chocolates.

This pandemic has made me see men in a different way. This morning I saw an attractive man using sanitiser in the correct way, outside the supermarket: it's the new sexy. If, in the early days, he had been a hunter/gatherer of toilet paper as well, I would have introduced myself and proposed. Anyone who visits and doesn't go straight in for a kiss but simulates blowing a kiss from a distance is also highly prized. Also a man who suggests going for a walk and social distancing at the same time would be considered marriageable in my book.

My water filter man arrived to change the filters (as you might have guessed, I'm one of those opposed to the chemicals added to the water). He likes to chat and he's a conspiracy theorist from way back. There were three filters in need of changing, so in three different locations he told me his conspiracy theories about the virus. Halfway through I think I tuned out. If even some of his theories were correct, it was too depressing to contemplate. I like to think of Covid as one of the many viruses, created by nature, doing their damage every now and then disappearing a la Trump ( his belief , even though he's been proved wrong, as there are now over 90,000 deaths in USA).

I've also become quite the entertainer since we're allowed visitors now. I am working my way through a new cookbook and actually enjoying taking my time to properly read the instructions and using the correct ingredients as I sip upon my Negroni. I've enjoyed the Jerusalem cookbook as it has so many different herbs and spices that I haven't used before. The daughter has taken to lighting the brazier at night for cocktail hour and we've been staying outdoors as long as we can before it gets too cold. The thought of the 6 months winter we've already had in Europe combining with another 4-5 months here has inspired us to spend every minute we can outdoors with the pretence that we're warmish even though we are rugged up and almost on top of the fire.

I even ventured as far away as Rozelle on Saturday in hunter mode, gathering #BelleFleur chocolates, my favourites, that I haven't had since last February. I rang on the dot at nine a.m.to see if they had reopened; they said they hadn't ever closed! So chocolates are an essential service! Of course they are! Women in quarantine would need their estrogen, happy hormone laced chocolate supply. Had I known that, I would have headed there straight after hotel quarantine. I am allowed one chocolate only if I've been creative. So far it seems to be working. That incentive got me to write this blog after three days absence because of the heavy entertaining schedule over the weekend.

Self Isolation Day 60. Time warp.

I think this will be the last day of the self isolation heading. Today I wasn't isolated, today I managed to stay outside of the rabbit hole. I sniffed the air, finally decided I would have to acknowledge winter, put on socks and a jacket and headed out into the dangerous world of the shopping centre. My favourite shop was opening up and had a sale. I haven't even been interested in driving, I've been walking everywhere but today, I started up Conchita (my little cappuccino fiat 500 who was named after Conchita Wurst the year she won Eurovision which was the year I bought my car) and took her for a whirl. I went a bit early to avoid the crowds I was expecting on the day Sydney was taking baby steps towards normalcy but surprisingly, the shops weren't crowded. Most shops were still closed, what made shops open while others stayed shut, I couldn't work out, but it did feel like we were heading back into the real world ,for better or for worse. There was a line up at Louis Vuitton which I thought was strange butt maybe that's how the rich navigate getting out of quarantine. Had they been waiting patiently to buy an expensive bag? There were quite a few men, had they been annoying their partners so much during isolation that they were buying apology gifts? Who knows, I had got what I came for and didn't feel like browsing. Covid self protection was still paramount in my blood stream. Lack of proper realisation of time is not.

I was talking to the girls about when the new moon would appear, I assumed it would be soon as we had full moon a couple of weeks ago. They said it had appeared last Thursday. I disagreed. It had been the week before, I said. They said it hadn't been. I looked it up. It had been last Thursday! It seemed so long ago and the night had been balmy. We had sat outside, drunk our full moon potion (wine) and written a list of things we wanted to get rid of (self isolation) and things we wanted to manifest (moving out of self isolation; although this was disputed as we all agreed we were saving money by not going out, and paying off our credit cards was a good thing). It's as if I'm in some sort of time warp. The days have extra corona hours in them which I thought I should put into good use. Still skirting around the rabbit hole, I entered the room of creativity and started to write my travel book and not only that, I started making jewellery again. What has happened to me? Will it last? Or will the rabbit hole beckon with it's mini fridge full of gelato, alcohol and chocolate ?

Mokume gane polymer earrings with rhodonite drops.

Self Isolation Days 57/58/59. Down the rabbit hole.

So quarantine fatigue is a thing. I've got it. How many of you out there have it? I thought I was the only one until a friend from the USA sent me an article on it. I have lost my momentum, my motivation, my mojo. I requested a pilates dance link from another friend who, after she sent it to me, asked if I'd tried it: I said I was down the proverbial rabbit hole. She was philosophic about it: as long as you're down there with the essentials: alcohol, chocolate and a good book. She was right of course, I had just come back with a tub of ice cream. I told her I would take it down with me. I might need a fridge down the rabbit hole: for the ice for the Negroni and now for the ice cream. A comfy chair could be handy as well. I looked up the expression - Down the rabbit hole. It's a metaphor for something that transports someone into a wonderfully (or in my case, troublingly) surreal state. I spoke to the sister and the neighbour to tell them about it and they were there themselves! I am not alone! In fact, there are probably so many rabbit holes that people have fallen into with this covid virus that the ground under our feet could literally cave in. At least I'm in good company.

I dragged my feet into the writing/art room today. I have had so many excuses not to be here. It's cold (which is true and the gas guy visited and will be fixing the situation next week); I have no inspiration to write because I'm not doing much (that's true, I get up in the mornings and try for most of my day to skirt around the thought that bed is the best place to be, this is not good for the mind or the body or for writing stories); I have other things to do,( I am a landlady after all, but that activity does not a day fill); there is something wrong with me (I seem to be always tired but that was explained by the quarantine fatigue so I probably haven't got anything seriously wrong). All I have to do is open the french doors and step in after I emerge from the rabbit hole blinking slightly at the bright lights. But I did it! Let's see how long I stay here. I'll let you know.

Me when I actually went out and merged with a swan.