Self Isolation Day 50/51. Isolation craft.

I had no time to write yesterday as I became obsessed with my no sew rag rug!.It is the perfect self isolation therapy! It's fiddly, time consuming and as you make it, you disappear into a place of no thoughts. I don't know about everyone else but I dream in Covid. Weird dreams wake me up around 3 pm. Usually about trying to get out of places, or social distancing dilemmas. When I'm creating my rag rug, nothing else exists. I can highly recommend this if you have 9 sq m of old material lying around and a good pair of scissors. Warning: There's a lot of cutting of strips but I reiterate - worth it.

I had a 'down the rabbit hole' day yesterday after another night of dreams and waiting to fall back to sleep. I woke more tired than when I went to bed. I walked to the shops, stood on my circles, disinfected my hands before and after but what I really wanted to do was to go to my favourite cafe, Fred's in Paddington and have a piccolo, overlooking the bar that came from Paris, imagining myself back there. A year away has done some serious damage. I am still not comfortable being back in Australia. I have been spoilt by ancient history, by civilisations that began with standing stones, with magic, with golden ages spawned by pandemics. I read an article that after the Great Plague came the Renaiisance. Hopefully we will have the same happen. Although I wonder if that will occur in Australia where the Arts have been ignored and neglected for a long time. And now, when we are utilising tv and movies to get us through the isolation periods, the Arts industry has been left out entirely whereas in Europe, each country has had massive stimulus packages, including $320 million in the UK for the arts sector and artists are eligible in Germany for $30,000 in subsidies.

After coming back from the shops, I searched for a bit of sunlight and guess where it was? On my bed! But as I lay there, I realised I was back to my old patterns. I decided I should sleep on the other side of the bed and move my chair into the sunlit corner. I'm hoping that works.

Me in a cafe bar in Paris.

Self Isolation Day 49. Isolation shopping.

Online isolation shopping. Let's talk about it. I haven't really indulged up to now, not even before C-19. The last time I shopped online was when I had had back surgery and was on cortisone and couldn't sleep at night. The Surgeon did warn me that I would go slightly batty and put on weight but he didn't tell me about the sleep deprivation and what might occur during those long wakeful hours. For a month after, packages arrived in the mail, nothing ever fitted so it all had to be sent back. No money was lost in this exchange and it kept me busy during the long nights so all good. But this week, to sweeten my homecoming from my curtailed second year abroad (yes, life is tough, I know you're all feeling my feels), I have indulged. Paints, and an embroidery kit and a few other bits and pieces will be arriving shortly. By the time they arrive, we may be out of isolation and they'll be put aside as I erupt back into the world. Mind you, it's hard to imagine what that will be like. Sitting in a restaurant, wondering who's touched the wine glass, the cutlery. Who's washed their hands: more importantly who hasn't? What if someone sneezes at the table next to you? I may continue entertaining at home for a while.

Which is exactly what we did yesterday. We are the plus two visitors to our wonderful neighbours. I cooked recipes from the #Jerusalem cookbook by #YotamOttolenghi. This book is amazing! It took me a while to source all the herbs but I managed it, going early and only frequenting shops with social distancing round circles on the ground ( As you know, I do appreciate a good SD ground circle!) Sumac, chervil, tarragon, seeds of coriander and cumin, capers and fresh dates. It was a long list but I found most before people decided to do their Sunday shopping.

After researching the ways of the homemade scrap rug and making a skirt cover for an old lamp that I was about to throw out, I put on Lana del Rey and slowly undressed onions, massaged spices into the chicken: marinated plump dates and onions in vinegar: toasted pitta bread and almonds in butter and oil for a spinach salad; sauteed cumin, caraway, garlic and capers for a bean salad and then lay the fried chicken onto a bed of rice, caramelised onions and currants and then cooked it slowly over the heat. I followed the recipe religiously. Something I rarely do. All the while, sipping on a Negroni, the ingredients of which I had sourced over a week and finally found the final missing vital ingredient that morning. Then all dishes were passed over our brick wall and then the daughter and I appeared elegantly at their front door. The plus two.

Project completed, old fabric and belt buckle of my grandmother's repurposed.

Self Isolation. Day 47/48. Being slightly Amish.

So today I bravely went where everyone had blithely gone before me - Bunnings. It was time to work on the outside of the house now that I had the internals up to scratch. Again, no one social distanced! The daughter rang me to see if I was ok. She was going later in the day and was weighing it up whether it was worth the risk. I said so far, so good. But then people seemed to appear out of nowhere. I found an aisle with no one in it and hung out there. I bought outdoor lights that I probably didn't need: in reality I had come for inside bulbs. That aisle was jam packed. I returned home.

The daughter came back from her shop with indoor plants, seeds and a tub of kale which she happily planted only to discover the next morning that they had been consumed by some hungry insect or animal , just empty stalks remaining. It felt symbolic. A bit like our aborted year abroad. The delicious leafy bits disappearing, leaving us with the stalk of what might have been. And so the daughter sets up a little nursery. Every day on the kitchen sill bits of cut off vegetables appear in glasses of water, plants broken off on walks in jars, no sourdough starter at our place - yet.

Next job was to find a rug for my art room which is the coldest in the house. I searched online and found nothing to my liking and then had a brainwave - I could make one! I have downloaded Amish spirit. I had seen one on Pinterest made of recycled material scraps. I have Youtubed a video of it. As I was watching it, I could smell a mixture of scents arising from downstairs. At some point during the day, a box of candle making equipment had been delivered. The daughter had unpacked and was already in the process of creation. A candle had been made. The day before another box had arrived, various natural skin products were being assembled in my bathroom. She described what they were going to do and looking intently at my skin as she spoke, diagnosed dryness and suggested she order some more for my mother's day present. I shall have hydration as my gift for birthing her.

I went back to my video of rug making and then could hear a grinding sound. She'd asked me the day before if I had a mortar and pestle. I hadn't asked many questions, just went to the art room to get it. Yes, I kept it there from my silver clay jewellery making days. I ground the left over silver with it to form a powder which I could mix with lavender oil to reuse. I cleaned it for her and asked why she needed it. She was making her own incense balls. Of course she was. Like mother, like daughter. Witches at heart, both.

This is the corner of my bedroom where I sit and ponder amidst my vintage finds, on my favourite Ikea chair.