Written 15 May, 2020
We wait all day for promised rain for the water tanks. I desolately tap them; there’s a dull thud only a third of the way up. Then it comes in a cloud, just as we’re about to set out for our food box from Homer’s, and – joy- a cappuccino at Homer’s with Jo, K’s NDIS carer, who i’ve only met on Zoom, where she taught K and me to stand like superwoman, feet wide apart, hands on hips, eyes straight apart- and it’s true, after two minutes of being superwoman, you are superwoman, for a little while.
The boat takes the usual hour to get there. It’s not a boat to have whispered conversations in.
At DB’s boatyard, there was no where to berth, but a stranger in a yellow jacket labelled Protection Unit was taking his time filling up huge plastic water tanks from DB’s hose, a cigarette hanging out his mouth. GG swore reasonably quietly and he looked up and said
Be just a minute.
Impressively the cigarette, a rollie, didn’t fall out.
He was ten minutes.
But finally, what a joy a cafe is after almost two months.
Do you miss Darlinghurst?
Jo asked this, a woman in her early 70s much prettier in real life than on Zoom, a cloud of white hair done in a high ponytail, a white jacket of blue flowers and a lace black and white umbrella, who’s studying medicine online from a university in Honolulu. Immediately I want to do that too. But I’d need to stand for a long time as wonder woman.
Articulating through a mask:
Fifteen minutes’ drive away, while Gg buys whisky at the bottle shop, I go to the chemist, not for anything, but I’ve become an opportunist shopper.
Yes? he’s about to close.
I just wanted a little browse.
You want a little bra?
His voice is almost a yelp. Jesus is the Way says a sign on the counter.
I see the problem, have a go at reassurance.
I just want to browse a little.
He mutters under his breath, to explain it to himself.
I just want a little browse.
By now, the rain’s pelting. Our food box is heavy, but DB helps us down the jetty with it on his shoulder, bare-footed, no raincoat.
This rain will fill your tanks.
But it hasn’t rained in our bay. And Dy messages, to say M has gone home.
I dropped her off at Kangaroo Point. We had fish and chips.
His house is already dark.