Written 25 July, 2020.
Outside, instead of a sunrise:
Inside: we haven’t unpacked- we arrived, ate, lay down and slept.
A little later, outside:
I go for a walk to get kindling, and i store it in our neighbour’s outside bathroom out of the weather- they haven’t lived there for 15 years and it seems a good use of unused space- we all sleep through the afternoon on our electric blankets, with heavy doonas. We almost have the bay to ourselves. Dy’s in the Blue Mountains taking Trippy to the vet for teeth problems, R and S have gone to their other house, I and S have left to the city. Ad is in residence, so is M, and my once-upon -a-time close friend. A neighbour i seldom see wandering along the track with his gleaming black retriever puppy, who bites plants. He tells me he watched a couple of sea eagles today working in tandem; one acted as a low flying lure for other birds, the mate soared above and picked off a bird for dinner, and the lure flew off, presumably to share the dinner. No one wanders along my way in the city and chats about the ways of birds. We’ve escaped.
I cook dinner, a little more nutritious than last night’s pasta and tinned tomatoes warmed up with coarsely chopped onion and fresh herbs from the garden for vegetables. But we eat facing each other with plates on our laps, too tired to speak. We hear on the news, that in Bolivia, the government- which is holding on with a tiny majority – is telling its countrymen how to combat the virus – by drinking bleach. Health officials call warnings but even the mayor of Cochabamba has joined the bleach drinking calls. i put my head down in my food and sob..
The end of the day: