Written 14 May, 2020.
After two and a half days of shaking the computer, the video is finally on You Tube.
I might lie back for the rest of the day and throw grapes into my mouth. Or at least drag the two old smashed water tanks down the cliff, so Moxham will put them on his barge with the rest of the rubbish – that’s those big white bags you can just see on the pontoon.
At night: I didn’t move the water tanks. I went back to my rejected novel- reluctantly- and then I suddenly knew what do. I’d run away from it because I’d made a mistake and din’t know how to fix it. But these days away a realisation was incubating without me knowing. The fix came of its own accord. I wish all work was like creative work – that those water tanks would go off to the pontoon by themselves.
Ad has moved in with his wife next door, and goes off to work long hours every day, leaving her alone. He didn’t introduce her, but I see the smoke puffing out her chimney, the floorboards creak under her feet. I thought of baking a cake, but it seems so Yankee. Today two perfect pink camellias bloomed on the bush friends gave me ten years ago: I ran up the 40 steps for the scissors and picked them as well as two buds as pink as kisses, put them in a little blue glass jug only slightly chipped, wrote “Welcome” on a bit of paper and popped it all on her porch. Later, her porch was bare.
Dy’s M has stayed! After my writing, I wandered down to the pergola, the only place to store the mulch till GG builds the tool and garden shed, (the bits from Bunnings waiting 2 years now but a one-armed man can’t really throw up a shed), and Dy was on his beach, using his new chain saw to carve up the huge logs washed up by the storm. (You can see them in the video) He called to show me how light the saw was, saying I could buy an even lighter one. He knows GG has only one working arm. M came to join us and she’s lovely- smiling, pretty, fun, comfortable! And i’d thought of her as a dragon! He’d been longing to show off the stonework he’s uncovered, so we followed him, chatting like old friends. Years ago, someone spent a lifetime carrying and carving rocks, steps and terracing almost up to the cliffs.
And then, about 6.30, a light on our dark porch- M and their tiny dog, upset that Dy’s steering had broken down at Kangaroo Point, about 10 kms downriver, and what was the number of the water taxi? We said of course we’d rescue him, especially as the water taxi costs at least $100. We calmed her- it’s dark but it’s an easy journey. GG rugged up and left immediately, and M came in and sat by the fire. Her blue, dark-lashed eyes lit up when I offered a gin and tonic. K came out of Netflix, and we chatted, showing her pics on our phones of the bay, hoping she’d fall in love with it and stay on. She confided that Dy had grown so used to being alone, that one lunch time he’d made a ham sandwich for himself, and she’d had to say
I”m hungry too.
When K glimpsed the green light of the boat passing between the headland and Bar Island, she left to get dinner, I ran down to the jetty with a torch and waved the boat in. It came so slowly, so quietly, For GG couldn’t see a thing ahead of him but my torch, that when he slid the boat in like a ballet dancer landing on the stage, it was a surprise.
I’d simmered chicken soup all afternoon, and only after remembered Uma’s zoom tango class. I missed it except for the last 5 minutes, but afterwards we all had a virtual chat and my second gin and tonic.
There’s such sociability in this remote spot, the city will feel very lonely.