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We are without income. We are not without riches.
It's 1612 on a Monday afternoon.
I still love using a 24 hour clock. My Dad taught me how to understand it when I was a whippersnapper and I fell in love with the logic. I think it also helps me with airline departures and arrivals. I've never once had to query an itinerary, yet my poor family will persist: "is that AM or PM?"
1612 on a Monday afternoon is another sober reminder that the first day of my working week should have started and finished. Monday was the day where we would have our meeting to plan the following fortnight - production, invoicing, follow up on quotes etc.
We spent today cleaning out the last of our office furniture and loading up the ute for another trip to the storage unit. One step forward. Two steps back.
Let's take one step forward. Positives from the last time I posted:
I am enjoying a competitive but thoroughly enjoyable game of Scrabble with my 16 year old son, who is now home-schooled until mid May. The first few games were like preschool. CAT RAT SAT.....but now 3 letter submissions have given way to 5, 6 and 8 letter triumphs - EVOKE ZEALOT INHABITS. We are learning and laughing our way through the Oxford English Dictionary.
My garden is looking heavenly. I have found approximately 50 offshoots (called "pups") in my Agave. They've been carefully lifted and replanted around the rest of the property. I'm finding a new joy in cooking from scratch. I have a wonderful recipe for damper using Rosemary. This one is extra special, because the Rosemary growing in my garden is from a certified cutting that was sourced in Gallipoli. It took years to strike but is now a healthy, robust bush that dominates a spot among Osteospermum, patio roses and Grevillea. I normally leave it where it is and occasionally throw it in with a roast lamb. But every Anzac Day, I like to bring a few sprigs inside and allow the scent to permeate my home. I think we are all standing at the top of our driveway at 0555 this year to pay respect. Is anyone else doing something similar?
Easter was a reverent time for us to reflect. The isolation was actually a pleasant sabbatical from the usual commercial-style bonanza we would experience. I hid some Easter eggs in our front garden for the boys and we managed to enjoy a (6 metre separated) catch up with our neighbours. They sat in their driveway and we sat in ours. No food or drink was shared and the conversation was probably a little louder than we wanted. But it was an opportunity to feel normal for an hour. They are the complete opposite of us. Full time wages in major companies that have not acutely suffered during COVID19. They work from home now, but it is almost a welcome relief for them. They normally transit an hour by train to the City. We in comparison, are now unemployed. And struggling to find a solution for that fact, while trying to find humour it it all. We are desperately envious of anyone with a regular wage right now.
Then it hits me. 6% of the Australian workforce is desperately envious of anyone with a regular wage right now. That figure will rise to 10-16% before this is all over.
Breathe. Stay focused.
Job Seeker is kicking in sometime in May. That keeps the Banks happy. Our creditors have always been paid ahead of us, so we have no-one knocking on doors to chase us for money. Mr Clipped is the most honest, trustworthy person I know. He pays everyone else before he pays us. That's probably bad business advice, but I am so proud of his integrity. He has an amazing work ethic. I am a lucky woman. This man is honest and reliable. Yet we are unemployable. Go figure.
Reading the AFF forums is a wonderful way to feel connected to flight. There are so many entertaining contributions from members that allow us to sidestep the current sadness that has descended on our world right now. I'm loving the thread where everyone posts 3 photos of a favourite trip. I'm laughing at the antics of people trying to imagine an airline meal from their own kitchen (me included). AFF is still giving me reason to smile.
The current situation regarding VA's financial position right now is utterly sad. It is a poignant reflection of so many companies, industries and small business that have gone to the wall in the last month. I hurt for everyone at VA. I pack another box away and I hurt for me. No-one is seeing me cry, because I am now very good at hiding it. I don't need my kids to see me cry. What good can come of that? I love that they are ignorant of our situation. They are are a wonderful release from the day's pain. As long as there are 2 minute noodles in the cupboard and they have clean undies - they are cool.
Sadness ebbs and flows. 2020 has been a cough year - to say the least. But it's also giving back. I am 57 years old and still climbing extension ladders with the stamina of a twenty something. I have just found out that @drron has decided to leave @mrs.dr.ron to travel to Tasmania so he can assist the team down there to combat things. What a couple! @mrs.dr.ron I am sending you big hugs right now! Stay safe and send me pm's whenever you want xx @drron - you are a spectacular example of human beings who care - and I wish you continued good health and contributions to this forum. Stay safe my friend x
I will continue to dream. To plan new holidays and adventures. Without them, I am lost. Dreaming costs nothing. There is nothing to lose, so much to gain.
The COVID train continues to cycle through our daily life. It stops at every stop and no-one, including me - has the opportunity to get off. Just more people get on.
It's been almost a month since I last wrote. I tried to avoid whinging here at Easter, as I am God fearing and I did not want to trump my religious observations with material losses. Then, ANZAC Day came and I became infatuated with the Light Up the Driveway campaign.
I have always respected ANZAC Day. When I was a kid, my Mum & Dad dragged us four kids, half asleep - to our local Dawn Service. It was a 20 minute drive in the sub-zero western suburbs of Sydney. Snugly clad in my woolly dressing gown, beanie, socks and slippers, I was in fact - more sublimely layered than most homeless people. But I was five. And I remember it as being the most FREEZING and uncomfortable experience a kid could imagine. Lots of grownups, standing still for waaaay longer than kids can stand still. It was all so sad and quiet. I came away from that morning with a resolution to feign sickness and NEVER go there again.
Fast forward fifty years. I have embraced and honoured ANZAC Day as an adult ever since. I still don't go to dawn service. But I observe it, I acknowledge it's impact.
I feel it. And I encourage our kids to carry it always, as a day of remembrance. I planted a rosemary bush that was grafted from a parent plant in Gallipoli and I bring that gorgeous scent inside each year to remind me how lucky we are as a free country. But my pain through COVID has distilled some rather negative feelings and suddenly, I became a little too patriotic.
One may almost call it racist.
Remember, it must be noted - COVID not only held us hostage and stripped us of all social interaction. It stole our ability to honour the things that matter most. Family. Freedom. Expression.
Don't get me wrong. The Driveway campaign was a spectacular success, by conventional standards. They say more people acknowledged ANZAC Day on social media than would normally participate at a Dawn Service. And I had thrown myself into it. I left notes in letterboxes and encouraged people to Stand at Dawn. I downloaded the special app that would "light" a candle at exactly 0530. It would then play the Ode and the Last Post. I was hoping most of our street would turn out to pay their respects.
But only 3 groups stood at the top of their driveways at dawn. In a street of almost 50 houses. I was shattered. Does ANYONE in this country care? Is there no patriotism left here? Are we so misaligned and obsessed with appeasing minority groups and political correctness, that we have lost the ability to identify ourselves as a nation with any history?
All these thoughts began to permeate my frontal lobe. I began to resent my neighbours. I hated them because they were Chinese. Or Welsh. Or Austrian. I hated that they thought it was no big deal to miss ANZAC Day. I hated that they mowed their lawn, or detailed their cars, or had the audacity to walk their dog later that morning. And then, suddenly - ANZAC Day and it's meaning became more clear to me than anything I could ever have fathomed. It wasn't about war. It wasn't about rights. It wasn't about obligation. That war was already fought. It was everything about freedom. It doesn't matter that people refuse to acknowledge. That is their privilege. They enjoy this freedom in Australia that was provided to our country by people they will never know. That is both their loss - and their gain.
This made for a more subdued, more spiritual ANZAC Day for me and our little family. We gave thanks as we broke rosemary-infused damper together.
Anzac Day was bad for me too. It was my mum's birthday and she passed away a couple of years ago. My family and sons didn't twig and so they didn't check in with me. Bit of a downer.
I know your lovely Mum would be shaking her head at the stupidity of Humanity's predicament right now. It's almost a blessing most of her generation didn't get to see the mess we wound up in eh?
I agree to some extent but I think they would also be rather sad to think that no matter what they endured, they'd have hoped to have left a better world where such things wouldn't ever happen again. I know mum, who did go through this, would have been distressed at what was happening, not so much to us, the older parents, but to her grandchildrenI can't help thinking that our parents' generation would regard us as a bunch of sooks - coughing and moaning about having to stay home! Not to trivialise what's going on here. They really had no choice but to roll up their sleeves and get on with it, first a depression then a war, and only 'susso' available. They were a redoubtable bunch that's for sure