The Virus Diaries: Rationing
[Day zero and day 1 of the Virus Diaries.]
We had our first ration rage incident last night.
For context, you should know that 8 year-old Louisette has inattentive ADD and she takes Ritalin. She barely eats as a rule—here is the aftermath of a typical breakfast:
That is lemon butter and honey on white bread. Most kids would kill for that. She has eaten one bite and then declared herself full.
Obviously, we’re long since given up on the idea of a healthy breakfast and we just try to get her to eat SOMETHING. Ritalin is known to suppress appetite but this is a typical breakfast even when she hasn’t taken her tablet yet.
One thing that DOES happen in the late afternoon/evening is that the effect of the Ritalin wears off and she is suddenly very cranky and starving. And also super duper vague (as in, you can tell her there’s a new toy for her on the kitchen bench and she won’t be able to hold the thought in her head long enough to walk through the house and get it).
A meal that’s easy enough for me to make and that she consistently likes is frozen chicken nuggets and fish (it’s a victory if we can even get her to have hot chips). She has 3 nuggets and one battered fish fillet, with tomato sauce, mayo, and lemon juice. I have stocked up on nuggets but we only have two fish fillets left. So last night I added a nugget to the usual tally but only gave her half a fish. While it was cooking I told her that I had done so and explained why, and she seemed fine with it.
When she collected the cooked meal, however, she screamed and sobbed because her piece of fish was so small. Chris calmed her down and she ate her dinner in the end. But that was our first rationing experience and it sure wasn’t pretty. Poor Louisette. She is an extremely sweet and gentle girl but coming down off Ritalin severely heightens her emotions. She and TJ are both slightly flagged (not tested yet but Louisette is on a waiting list) for being on the autism/asperges spectrum as they’re very very particular about certain things, especially Louisette eg how her shoes feel when she puts them on, and ALWAYS having a hat on outside even if it’s literally just to walk to the car. (The one exception is when swimming.)
I don’t cope well with rationing either, so there are fun times ahead. In fact, I’m so bad at rational that I often drink a full glass of water right before bed, knowing full well it’ll make me get up to pee at 2am. Just the thought of, “I shouldn’t drink anything now because it’s too late at night” is enough to make me desperate for a drink. So desperate I can’t sleep. Brilliant.
Yesterday Chris and Tim were both feeling much better and I had some errands to run (picking up and dropping stuff outside people’s houses). My junk food supply is very strong but low on non-chocolate lollies (I’m intolerant of pretty much everything but if I eat a variety of things I think the effects are less). I really love Kool Fruits (they’re like round mentos) and there is a particular local shop that usually has them, but didn’t have them the last two times I went there. So I thought I’d go in real quick and see if they had any, since no one is making me quarantine myself and it would be a very quick visit with theoretically less people than a big supermarket.
It was unusually crowded, so clearly I wasn’t the only one targeting a smaller shop in hopes of getting some food supplies. I bought a LOT of lollies and 1 litre of lactose free milk. I’m quite anxious about running out of lactose free milk because it’s one thing I’m NOT intolerant to. I have enough for about a week, and it’s extremely hard to get at the moment.
Chris has actually gone to work today, so I’ll most likely ask him to attempt to do some shopping too. I would rather he stayed at home, but at the same time I can see that it’s important to not abandon society altogether just yet. And I want more STUFF.
We have settled into our coronapocalypse outfits. I wear pajamas; TJ wears undies and nothing else; Louisette wears undies, a dressing gown, and gumboots.
With the exception of hangry Louisette, everything is quite peaceful. My kids love staying at home doing nothing. You should have seen the joy on TJ’s face when I told him we’d skip school for at least the rest of this week. Here’s an approximation:
I’m doing some school work with the kids each day (less than half an hour, which is actually plenty for most primary schoolers). TJ is in Kindy, which like many schools is doing Jolly Phonics, in which letters are introduced in roughly the order of usefulness, and each letter comes with a song and a dance move. I was able to quickly figure out where he’s up to (‘h’) and do that with him. The only hard part is that he desperately wanted to keep going. Adorable, non?
Today is ‘r’.
Louisette is in Year 3. We’ve already been practising Spanish numbers as her class has been doing Spanish for years whereas she’s only just started. I only got around to doing school stuff with her quite late yesterday, so I stuck to Spanish because I knew that even hangry Louisette would enjoy that. Today we’re doing clocks—every time I get up, I adjust the hands of a clock and ask her what time it is on my way past.
Uh oh. Tim just had diarrhea. Still no sign of fever, but that’s ominous. Or not. He had dried fruit on his breakfast, which is a classic diarrhea-inducing food.
Speaking of my cute little disease vector, here’s a fun fact: he always insists on having company when he goes to the toilet. He then sings songs (“The Lion Sleep Tonight” is a favourite at the moment; I love hearing him sing it around the house… Louisette does not), asks maths questions (“Mum, what’s 7 half of?”) and talks about computer games (yeah, that’s gonna be a thing forever I think). Last time he went to the toilet he decided it would be funny if he threw his undies around and played with them like a kitten with string.
And now he’s singing, “Peach is a stinky butt-butt” over and over. (He’s playing Mario Kart.)
Kids are gross, is what I’m saying.
Chris and I decided long ago that if any member of the family got covid-19, we would separate the house into two zones: diabetic me in the master bedroom and ensuite; Chris and the kids in the rest of the house. At the moment we’re doing a soft version of that. Chris sleeps in his study and only uses the main bathroom. I only use the ensuite. This is great for me, because I get the biggest bed to myself. (This of course inspired the classic pre-divorce question, “Daddy, why don’t you and Mum sleep in the same bed any more?” which amused me because I’m odd. And because we’re actually not getting divorced. Side note: I bet divorce rates go up after mandatory quarantining. I recommend quarantining your house in sections, for both health and sanity.)
Hmm. Tim just had diarrhea again. It’s a rare symptom of covid-19 and there’s still no fever in any members of the household, but it is a bit suggestive that he’s had a sore throat and diarrhea.
Now that I’ve told you that my 8 year-old still has tantrums and my 5 year-old is just a windmill of gastro, here’s a little dialogue I overheard yesterday:
Louisette: TJ, is it all right if I go into your room and play with your blue monkey toy?
TJ: Sure. Actually you can keep it forever.
What little angels, right?
Last night I dreamed that I ended up with twelve orphaned kittens that I oh so graciously offered to find homes for—hoping, of course, to get Chris to agree to keep at least one.
I have dreams about getting another kitten at least once a week. If I can think of a decent excuse to get a second kitten in real life, I will grab it with both hands. But of course we have Zipper, and one cat is sufficient for survival. With a cat, my immediate family, chocolate, books, and the internet, I can survive most things.
Here’s Zipper yesterday, annoyed as usual that I’ve gotten the camera out.
And I noticed yesterday that my potatoes have sprouted. Which is good!
About two weeks ago I set aside three potatoes (ie one of my rare safe foods) to plant a “The Martian”-style food source in our front garden. We’ve actually grown potatoes there before, so I feel mildly confident that I can make them grow. Of course, things escalated a lot sooner than I expected so it’s unlikely they’ll have time to grow before all of Canberra is on lockdown. Still, I’m proud of them. Especially since the basil plant I bought a week ago is already looking melancholy.
Anyway…
Resource of the day:
Fried Rice
Ingredients:
Cooked rice
Any vegetable you got, cut up small.
Any meat/eggs/tofu you got, cooked and cut up small.
Soy sauce if you have some.
A dessert spoon full of sugar.
Any oil you got.
- Fry in a pan.
- Eat.
Tim is currently liking fried rice with peas, corn, egg, and soy sauce. (Can you tell that that’s what he eats when Chris and I are eating maple marinated salmon?)
Recommended donation of the day:
Order some Chinese delivery or takeaway food. Restaurants may well close soon, and apparently some Chinese restaurants are being avoided due to people being racist. Eat that yummy yummy food while you can! Order lots, and freeze some for later. I know meat (and for that matter potatoes) are in short supply at the moment, so this is a handy way to stock up on protein.
Recommended personal action of the day: Disinfect (but don’t wet) your phone and keyboards.
Recommended hoarding item of the day: Order hot water bottles online. If a lot of people are staying home with heaters on (when the weather gets colder), we may have power outages. Save electricity and protect your family by having something that only requires ten minutes of electricity (to heat the water) every coupla hours. In fact, most hot water taps are sufficient for a hot water bottle even after the electricity is off (as you have hot water stored up in your water heater).
The Virus Diaries: A Million Shades of Grey
Beginning of the Virus Diaries.
I dreamed that Chris Evans (aka Captain America) and I were rehearsing a romantic scene (yes there was kissing, shut up) for a new Marvel movie. I often dream I’m rehearsing for Marvel movies—usually with Zendaya and Tom Holland, because apparently my unconscious mind thinks I’m in my 20s—and it’s enormously fun.
An SMS woke me up (because so much is getting cancelled at the moment, there are a lot of organisational messages flying about) but I managed to step back into my dream.
Unfortunately I now dreamed that I’d overslept and was running late to rehearsal. I frantically got ready, including a shower because I didn’t want to smell bad while kissing Chris Evans (my unconscious mind is very considerate of major Hollywood stars), but my car was missing. I begged my mother to borrow her car, which I’d never driven before, and she reluctantly let me (KISSING CHRIS EVANS, MUM! I GOTTA GO BEFORE I GET FIRED!!), at which point I rabbit-hopped across the road just as a cop car came around the corner. I babbled frantically that I was just driving the car for the first time and not drunk or anything and pleeeeaaase let me go to work. That’s when they noticed my mother’s car was out of rego.
MUUUUM!
At which point I was woken by another SMS, and I got up. Might as well, since Marvel was definitely going to fire me. Oh well, it’s not like I could survive the Marvel Diet anyway.
Pretty sure the dream was courtesy of this article at the Mary Sue web site:
https://www.themarysue.com/chris-evans-as-hand-sanitizer/
Today is Monday. It was going to be the kids’ first swimming carnival, but it got postponed—luckily for us, as we’re staying home anyway. I’m 99% sure none of the Banks family has the COVID-19 virus, or even a regular flu, but we’re doing the right thing staying home under the circumstances. Going to work sick is not cool any more, my peeps.
The title of today’s episode is all about that funny limbo state most Australians find themselves in right now. Do we self-isolate? When? How much?
Things have changed so quickly from, “Eh, it’s just a bad flu. If you’re healthy, you’ll be fine” to “Lockdown” trending on twitter because people WANT the government to shut everything down immediately.
My family is one of the “lucky” ones as Chris works in the public service which is big enough that a lot of people will be able to work from home (although the system is definitely not strong enough for it to go smoothly or to work for everyone) and I suspect we won’t lose any pay. Our kids are extremely screen addicted and will cope very well with being socially isolated for weeks on end. I already work from home (except for when I’m selling books at fairs/festivals, so I’ve already lost some income there and will continue to do so for some time). I even have a new book that I just started writing! I’ll talk more about that later, I promise.
A lot of people—particularly casual workers—are going to have a very hard time. Disabled and chronically ill people are already having a bad time (being treated as even more expendable than usual), and are also more likely to die, and are also extremely likely to have necessary services (such as nurse visits or people who deliver their groceries for them) cut off. Please check on anyone you know who’s elderly, disabled, chronically ill, or suffering income-wise.
In health terms, Chris still has a sore throat and headache but no fever.
TJ is five and a hypochondriac. When he feels sick, I generally ask him what hurts and then ask him if his elbows hurt, telling him that if his elbows hurt then it’s serious. Sure enough, his elbows always hurt under those circumstances. Then he starts naming other painful body parts. But my careful questioning yesterday seemed to support the statements that he has a sore/nauseous stomach and a sore throat.
I have a sore throat, migraine, body aches, diarrhea, and nausea. All of those are pretty standard (fibromyalgia is a disease of the nervous system, so it’s all about that widespread pain and fatigue), although I’m not usually nauseous. I don’t feel feverish at all.
Louisette is fine.
Yesterday was actually a surprisingly eventful day. We had two visitors (from whom I kept my distance, even though I felt like a fool). My Mum dropped by to pick up some stuff my sister’s kids had left here, and to drop off half of a sign that we are painting together. The sign is very exciting. It’s also very hard to photograph, since it’s displayed inside a window and the glass is very reflective.
This photo probably isn’t as exciting to you as it is to me. It’s not, as it might seem at first glance, a photo of our rubbish bins. The “Through Rooms” sign is metallic paint on a sheet of copper. We will eventually finish the other side, and the whole thing will say:
Shooting Through
Escape Rooms
But in any case it’s not super urgent to finish it since I can’t run the escape room at the moment. So every who sees it will just be left pondering what “Through Rooms” could possibly mean.
My second visitor was a friend who had offered a few days ago to do shopping for me if necessary… and although it definitely wasn’t technically necessary, it was certainly useful. Here’s the list I gave her, and how it all went down (italics is for things that I suspected might not be in stock):
6 litres full cream milk [for Tim and Chris for a week] – success!
A bottle of maple syrup (see yesterday’s recipe) – success!
A frozen Hawaiian pizza – success!
A pack of frozen salmon (again, for yesterday’s recipe) – success!
20ish apples – success!
10L lactose free long-life full cream milk (Louisette and I go through at least 10L/week) – utter failure! There was not a single litre to be had. Luckily I just bought some the other day so we’re okay for at least this week.
6L normal (ie with lactose) long life full cream milk – success, just… she had to buy the expensive organic stuff. Which she did, because she loves me.
2 packs roll-ups – success!
1 loaf white bread – success!
1 wheel of brie – success!
4 pack of non-diet ginger beer – success!
Aldi ‘Confidence’ toilet paper – hah! Nope.
1 pack frozen peas: There were none to be had anywhere, but she spotted a pack lurking behind unrelated items in the frozen food section and literally climbed into the fridge to GET FELICITY THOSE PEAS BECAUSE AIN’T NO FRIEND OF CHEVELLE GONNA GO WITHOUT FROZEN PEAS WHEN SHE SAID SHE WANTED FROZEN PEAS. SUCCESS BABY!
Dear frightened friends, we’ve all seen the footage of people fighting over toilet paper in an especially bogan corner of Australia. It’s a scary time, not just because of the COVID-19 virus but because fear brings out the worst in people. Please remember my friend climbing into a supermarket refrigerator and take heart. Times like this bring out the best in people too.
Be best, my dear ones. Be best.
Be like Zipper.
My poor able-bodied husband was a bit embarrassed that I let someone fetch my groceries like that, especially the ginger beer and Brie (in his ignorance, he considers them non-essential items). I have many many years of practice at being dependent on others, and with the way things are going we (that is, everyone in Australia) may not be able to go shopping for much longer. No one is going to starve, but everyone is going to have to go without something (eg their favourite brand of noodles). Don’t forget to stock up on treats.
There was a minor miscommunication over dinner and the pizza was entirely consumed by the not-Felicity members of the household. Which is fine really, since I’m intolerant of both ham and pineapple anyway… and I had Brie and crackers for my dinner. Yum.
My son TJ is hilarious. Yesterday he ran a series of experiments to test which one of his hands was:
1. Heavier
2. Faster
3. Better at punching air
4. Better at slicing air
His conclusion based on vigorous experimentation was that his hands weigh the same, and are equally proficient at punching and slicing air. However, he informed me that his left hand is slightly faster than his right. (He is right-handed, so there may be a tiny flaw in his research somewhere.)
He also tried Brie for the first time.
He liked it, but declared that he was full after one piece. Excellent. I ain’t sharing my brie with the kids.
Resource of the day:
Recipe for perfect stovetop popcorn (warning: DO NOT burn popcorn. It is an extraordinarily noxious smell).
Ingredients:
1 tablespoon oil
1/3c popping corn (it’s quite hard to find in shops; usually on the top shelf)
salt, butter, sugar, cinnamon, etc
1. Put oil into a saucepan, add three corn kernels, put the lid on, and put it on medium heat for around 5 minutes (if you are absent-minded or have fibromyalgia or some other brain-breaking condition, put on a timer for five minutes, then two minutes, then one minute).
2. When all three kernels are popped, remove the pan from the heat. Take the three popped kernels from the pan with tongs and throw them away.
3. Add the rest of the kernels, put the lid on, and count out one minute (I use the timer again).
4. Put the saucepan back on the heat, shaking it every so often to move the kernels around. Keep the lid on a slight angle so steam can escape (but not popcorn).
5. When there are no pops for 10 seconds, turn off the stove and pour your popcorn into a bowl/s. Add your salt/sugar/etc as you like, using the hot saucepan to melt butter if you’re adding butter.
I use about a tablespoon of butter, twice as much icing sugar, and 1/4 tsp of salt.
I eat the whole lot myself, but it could easily serve four people.
Recommended donation of the day: Check on your retail workers, elderly neighbours/parents/friends, and disabled/chronically ill people. Assuming you’re well, it may be useful to grocery shop for them and/or clean their home surfaces.
Recommended personal action of the day: Clean every doorknob, light switch, and handle you can find in your home and/or car and/or office. People are very likely to mock you if you do this in public, but do it anyway.
Today’s recommended item to hoard: Fresh herb plants. Hopefully you can keep them alive long enough to keep eating them (fresh greens) until the virus crisis is over.
The Virus Diaries: Day Zero
Here in Canberra we’ve had fire, toxic air, floods, and record-breaking hail (pictured). Now it’s pandemic time.
Trigger warning: discussion of severe depression
I’m immuno-compromised in a few different ways, the most obvious of which is that I’m diabetic. At the moment, that means my chance of dying if I get the covid-19 virus is around 7% (without allowing for fibromyalgia or any of my other health issues).
Things escalated quickly here in Australia over the last few days as thousands of events were cancelled and people continued to panic over toilet paper. Now’s as good a time as any to mention that I have a pretty severe anxiety disorder. Sometimes the experience of anxiety can actually be helpful at a time like this, because I’ve spent many years sorting rational from irrational thoughts (people with anxiety KNOW they’re stressing excessively over minor things, but our bodies continue to send panicked messages through physiological symptoms, which is super fun) and in many ways it’s like I’ve trained for this moment. In other ways, not so much.
My favourite thing about the covid-19 virus is that it doesn’t tend to hit kids very hard. So it hasn’t triggered a full-on Mama Bear reaction, or you know I’d be crash-tackling anyone who coughed in a public place and pouring bleach over them. [It’s worth noting here that I have been coughing in public plenty, due to one of my various non-infectious complaints. Please don’t crash-tackle me or pour bleach over me.]
Obviously, if someone hurts one of my kids, they die. That’s just science.
Anyway.
So Chris (my husband) told me last night that he had a sore throat and felt “heavy” in the chest. We slept in separate beds, having long since agreed that if anyone in our house was sick we’d separate me from the rest (which is now an official recommendation for anyone immunocompromised). He only just woke up (it’s 11am) so we haven’t taken his temperature yet today, but we have already checked him for fever (last night) so it’s a good thing I thought ahead and bought thermometer covers. He didn’t have a fever last night, so he’s almost certainly fine, but of course we’re being careful. I’m not the only immunocompromised person in the world.
I wouldn’t call myself a panic buyer, but I would definitely call myself a covid prepper. (You can judge me or admire me, as you like.) I expected to have more time to slowly build up supplies of long-life milk (and yes, toilet paper) but I do have quite a bit of food. If this is the moment when our family starts a period of self-isolation, we’re pretty well set up.
Last night I found out that some hospitals in Italy are not letting older patients have respirators, because there simply aren’t enough to go around and older patients are less likely to recover and more likely to need respirators for longer. That is absolutely horrifying, and for more than simple human decency. Like I said, I’m diabetic. That means every infection takes longer to heal. And I’m a ‘bad’ diabetic, too. I’m very very overweight, and my eating habits are enough to make any diabetes specialist swoon in horror. There are several surprisingly rational reasons for me to cheerfully continue eating like an Oompa Loompa.
First, chocolate and lollies are delicious.
Second, I’m not coping. With anything, really. I’m literally afraid of spending more than a few hours with my own children (due mainly to fibromyalgia and my average stress level being at around 90% so it’s hard for me to be nice about the 25th request for something the kids are perfectly capable of fetching on their own). I’m afraid to leave my house (heat makes me sick), to see people (I sweat and stink), to stand up (it hurts). I spend most of my waking hours in both pain and fear, mostly fear of more pain. Chocolate and lollies are an essential crutch that helps me do some of the things I really should do each day. I never do everything that I should (eat well, exercise, spend some actual time with my kids, give kids healthy food, deliver kids to school and home again, maybe say/do something nice for my husband, do something that earns money, shower, dress appropriately, brush teeth, brush hair, maintain a moderately clean house) but I do generally manage to shower and to take the kids to and from school, and to not yell or scream or swear directly at anyone, and to organise some kind of dinner for all four of us.
Third, junk food keeps the worse of my depression at bay. If I cut down on junk food, even a little, I get suicidal within 24 hours and homicidal within 48 hours. I lost a little weight before I got married to Chris, and I had to concentrate while driving to remind myself to NOT deliberately cause an accident—and that was when I was physically healthy, childless, not on any weight-increasing medications, and engaged to the love of my life.
Fourth, I’m intolerant of FODMAPS and Salyicylates. Which is to say, dairy, most fruit, most vegetables, any artificial sweeteners, and processed meat. I eat about one serve of fruit a week and one serve of vegetables a day (one or two a week if you don’t count potatoes). That mostly leaves carbs and meat.
So. I won’t be dieting unless I’m also in a padded room with a vitamin drip.
And I’m a little scared that if I get sick at the wrong time, or if ventilators are in short supply, that I will be judged unworthy of full treatment, and will be left to die. And my kids will find out that Mummy apparently cared more about chocolate than being alive to raise them.
That’s a pretty intense worst-case scenario.
(Chris has an extremely calm, naturally content personality. I think he’d cope okay emotionally if I dropped dead, although in practical terms he’s at his best with someone looking over his shoulder a lot because he’s a little TOO calm and content at times. Obviously, for all my faults, the kids are way better off with both of us.)
I’m feeling super panicky today, in case you can’t tell. A part of me just wants to start self-isolating the whole family immediately (partly just to dive into the not-so-nice experiences that are likely to happen sooner or later, instead of waiting in suspense).
Here’s another picture of our cat, Zipper.
Resource of the day: A meal that you can make with rice, frozen salmon, frozen peas, frozen corn, maple syrup, sesame seeds, and sesame oil (ie all stuff that can be stored for months before they’re cooked):
Ingredients:
cooked rice
salmon fillets
peas and corn
sesame oil
maple syrup
sesame seeds
1. Defrost salmon and marinate it in the maple syrup and sesame oil (about a tablespoon of each). Anytime between ten minutes and a day is fine. Line a tray with aluminium foil and chuck the salmon on it in a moderate/hot over for 5-15 minutes depending on how you like it.
2. Put leftover marinade in a fry pan with rice and vegetables, and mix/fry it until salmon is done.
3. Put rice on plates with salmon on top. Sprinkle with sesame seeds. Eat.
Recommended donation of the day:
Buy a book by an Australian small press. I recommend Odyssey Books or Shooting Star Press. They will post it to you, so you don’t need to leave the house. A lot of small businesses and small authors are suffering as our fairs and festivals are cancelled.
You can buy stuff from me directly here. I still haven’t recovered financially from the events of last summer (and we were relatively unscathed).
Recommended personal action of the day:
Wash your hands for 20 seconds before leaving the house and after returning home. (If you’re doing that already, good!)
Today’s recommended item to hoard:
Easter eggs. Go ahead and hoard some Easter eggs, since the shops are likely to close at some point (possibly causing a shortage and/or sudden panic buying) and if you have kids stuck at home at Easter, you can easily hide eggs around the house and yard and that will definitely satisfy the little monsters.
[Editor: Shops aren’t going to close. Not even if we go on full nation-wide lockdown.]
A Beautiful Dream
I wrote this blog entry on November 29th 2019. It was fairly obvious I was having a manic episode, so I didn’t post it right away. I still don’t fully know if I’m going to pursue this, but although the idea has evolved considerably (more on that in another entry) it is still very much with me. So, without further ado…
————————————————————————–
Not that long ago, I wrote about the injustice of the developed versus the less developed world, and my ongoing struggle to find a solution to my own white guilt (ideally one that is actually just and fair on a global/moral level, rather than just making me feel better… but also one that made me feel better because why not?)
I may or may not write an article about the other side of that—how I’m marginalised as a woman, as a disabled person, etc. But I won’t write about that today.
Today, I want to talk about my new shiny dream of the future.
This has started because of the above thought trains, combined with the fact that I have a very hefty trauma insurance plan that it seems must surely, somehow, net me some big money sooner or later (just as soon as one of my many chronic illnesses ticks the right set of boxes).
One of the contradictions of my life is that I live in a really nice house, with air conditioning and everything. So I’m rich. But heat above about 20 degrees literally makes me sick. So I “should” have air conditioning… right? But so many people don’t… I’ve personally met many people without plumbing, or a roof, or walls. . .
So here’s my shiny new thought-bauble: If I do get a massive insurance payout (and, to be honest, the maximum amount I could possibly get wouldn’t come close to being enough for this but might be enough for some of it), I would like to buy the house immediately next to ours, knock it down, and rebuilt it as not just one dream house but two, one on top of the other, designed in such a way that the two houses can be divided in a multitude of ways
eg the bottom house is for one family and the top house is for another family;
the bottom house is for two single people living completely independently (ie with their own kitchens, bathrooms, and living rooms) and the top house is for me and Chris to retire in while also caring for an elderly relative or two;
Half the bottom house is for a married couple, and the other half is studies for the family living upstairs;
Louisette and Tim house-share the top house, and Chris and I live in the bottom house, but the garage (currently both Chris’s study and Louisette’s bedroom) is converted back into a garage;
…and so on.
So it’s a fabulous, big, health-helping house for me AND an investment property at the same time.
But this is the part that is really awesome: Having effectively three houses, we could use the other two (or part/most of the other two) to house Indonesian refugees for 6-12 months each. During that time they could pay a proportion of their income (zero when it’s zero) and I could help them with English, with schooling, with getting a visa, getting a driving license, etc etc.
I used to speak fluent Indonesian and both Chris and I have teacher-ish brains so we’re well suited to help people transition into Australian society. Which is extremely helpful, useful work—especially as climate change will be making more and more refugees in the near future.
If I (or any of our parents) got sicker and we needed rental income or more space, we’d have it. Hopefully we could coordinate things so two Indonesian families were part of our mini-community at the same time (I’m a benevolent dictator, but I imagine it would be a blessed relief for anyone living here to have someone else they could talk to in Indonesian).
So if this dream came true, I’d have more space in my house (and perhaps a secret passageway or two) and I’d also be fulfilling the long-dead dream of being someone who helped low-income Indonesian people (by lifting them up to my financial level, rather than lowering myself to their poverty level as per 12 year-old me’s life plans).
I’m not publishing this article, but I’m writing it at 2am on Friday 29 November 2019. Chris and I just had a little chat about “If we were billionaires, we could….” including the above, and he was quite positive about my ideas (“Sure, if we’re billionaires”). And about having a book-lined TV room/basement. Which was enough to send me into manic mode. And here I am.
I mentioned I was manic, yes?
Right now I honestly believe with all my heart that I’ve found my true and ultimate purpose in life (this, plus writing, plus napping, plus being a loving mother and wife and friend).
When I wrote the above, I knew that Climate Change was bad, and coming soon. I didn’t know I’d be buying P2 masks that my sister brought from Queensland because there were none to be had in all of Canberra. I also didn’t know that I’d be seeing golfball-sized hail smashing windows and cars in my suburb in the same suburb.
A thousand ingredients, and not a bite to eat
There are four people in my family: Chris, my partner, who is more or less normal food-wise; myself, intolerant of FODMAPS and salicylates (ie most fruit, vegetables, alcohol, artificial sweeteners, processed meats, and nuts); Louisette, age 7, who is intolerant of honey and sulphites, and TJ, who is more or less normal except for being 5 years old.
Standing up to make a peanut butter sandwich is enough to give me a sore back, so dinner is a real challenge. I wouldn’t say I’m succeeding, as such. Unless the bar we’re setting here is “no fatalities, no starvation”.
For example, this is what we’re eating for dinner tonight:
Chris: Literally frozen and reheated airplane food (I get some truly weird meals from a charitable food pantry at St Paul’s Anglican Church in Melba; I feed it to him so he gets a bit of variety). As usual, he doesn’t get served any vegetables because it’s too hard (he usually has a carrot at work, and sometimes adds baby spinach to his sandwich). Sad but true. On very rare occasions, I will find something at St Paul’s that the kids will eat. Usually even if they like it once, they don’t ever eat it again.
Me: Lamb chop roasted with potatoes (and usually sweet potatoes and sometimes carrot, but not today). This is my “safe” meal and I usually eat it about 3 times a week (my doctor said to cut down on starches and red meat, and I just laughed. Then I started taking fish oil tablets). Potatoes, sweet potato, and carrots are all in my top 5 best veggies (potatoes are the only fully safe vegetable for me, which is actually not that awful; potatoes are awesome). The only hazard is the brown flavouring in the gravy. Sometimes I make my own gravy, but not today. Chris will also eat lamb chops, but the kids won’t. (I could have made lamb chops for him today, but I’m on day 3 of the same thing so I thought something else might be good.)
Louisette: Sausages in bread with tomato sauce (a la BBQ sausages). She loves it, and had two full sausages and two slices of bread. Even with no vegetables (does tomato sauce count?) that’s a win: no whining, and a solid meal. Since she’s on Ritalin, she often eats very little and is in danger of losing weight. We worked hard over many months to get her to just sit at the table every night, and even harder to get her to take more than two bites of pretty much anything. And sausages are nice and easy to make. Chris also likes them; Tim has gotten over them; I’m strongly intolerant of sausages.
TJ: “Spicy noodles” ie ramen ie mi goreng ie 2-minute noodles (the kind with several sauces including chili). With grated cheese and ham added. He didn’t eat all that much today (his first time eating beef rendang flavour, which is hotter than the norm and he said it was too spicy but he “don’t feel like a sandwich” so I guess that’s it for him today. Also very easy to make in a single portion (we have a great bowl-and-lid set that has an inner bowl that’s also a strainer, which is perfect for mi goreng), which can be a lifesaver.
Other meals that we eat:
All of us:
-Eggs… sometimes. Poached, boiled, or eagle eyes. Daddy is usually the chef when it comes to eggs.
-Butter chicken with gnocchi and Greek yogurt. (Somewhat… international, I know.) This is delicious AND I’ve gotten to the point where I can sneak some zucchini (the only green veggie I tolerate well) into the sauce AND TJ will sometimes let me add frozen corn and/or peas to the sauce. Louisette doesn’t eat the butter chicken… but I set aside some of the chicken and add Ayam’s Lemon Chicken sauce, and she loves it. The butter chicken with sauce (but, interestingly, NOT the lemon chicken with sauce) freezes and reheats beautifully, so that can serve TJ or Chris or me again (with a bit of fresh-cooked gnocchi and some yogurt). We’ve been having this 2-3 times a week, so I’m starting to get a bit sick of it (plus spicy probably isn’t great for a sensitive stomach like mine). And I can’t stand chicken breast or tenderloins (unsurprisingly, I’m quite neurotic about food) so I always get boneless thighs and then have to cut them up. Handling raw meat is a lot of work, and gross. Still, for the moment, I can still stomach butter chicken—and it works really well for the whole family. The below photo is a classic scene, with the main pan having butter chicken, the pan on the right having lemon chicken, the bowl on the left cooling down TJ’s gnocchi (removed from boiling water with a slotted spoon so the water and heat isn’t wasted) and the pan at the back right waiting for the second lot of gnocchi to go in.
-Rice paper rolls. These are unusually healthy for me, including snow peas/cucumber (snow peas for me, cucumber for TJ; Chris is flexible as usual) and carrot. Louisette won’t touch them, but I use a Woolies roast chicken and I give her lemon chicken… ie some of the chicken pieces with the same Ayam lemon chicken sauce. And that works with relatively little effort. But rice paper rolls are a LOT of work and, again, handling the chicken sometimes grosses me out. Even though it’s cooked.
-Mini pizzas. I use English muffins so it’s easy to vary who gets what. The kids both accept basil pesto (tomato paste is anathema even though tomato sauce is ambrosia) and have pineapple and ham. I’m intolerant of pineapple and ham and aware that they’re basically just a sandwich, so I usually make mini pizzas for the kids when Chris and I are eating something completely different. Plus making two instead of 3-4 pizzas means less time spent standing up without a break.
Louisette only: Frozen nuggets and fish (1 meal, with both—but she’s over frozen chips) with tomato sauce, mayo, and lemon juice.
TJ only: Corn on the cob and ham. (Also he apparently eats a wonderful variety and quantity at day care. It will be a real shame to lose that when he starts Kindy in 2020.)
Chris and I only:
Beef stroganoff (although I think it’s awful as leftovers, so I rarely make it—plus I’m highly intolerant of mushrooms, but refuse to leave them out because they’re delicious and sort of a vegetable).
Lasagna/bolognaise (you and I both know they’re the same thing). Great for adding zucchini and carrot (my top veggies), and great for leftovers. Also our thermomix does a good white sauce without needing a human standing and stirring—it stirs and heats at the same time.
Maple marinated salmon with semi-fried rice (I add the leftover marinade to the rice and fry it for a bit). I can deal with frozen corn and peas in this context (mentally, at least). And yes, I know corn is technically a grain. Shut up.
I feel super gourmet sprinkling sesame seeds on top, too.
So that’s where we’re at with meals at the moment. It’s… not great.
I’m about to attempt to get Louisette onto honey carrots (probably made with either golden syrup or maple syrup). Wish me luck.
Oh, there is one bit of good news. Louisette loves to have apple and hommus. She also likes lemon butter and Vegemite.
Parenting is weird, is what I’m saying.
Do your legs stop working when it rains?
Things I should be doing right now
Most importantly, I should be writing my quota for the day: 1000 words.
And gluing some stuff back together.
And tidying the living room.
And sorting three loads of washing; washing two loads including cleaning up an epic blood nose from last night (by TJ).
And sorting out the ominously paper-filled sections of several “I should totally deal with this” piles: my work table, a basket full of ancient papers that may or may not be important but has been lurking for months; part of the kitchen bench.
Sew repairs on 5-10 items.
Buy time-teaching clock from Aldi (and tissues, and milk). – DONE
Drop Louisette at school – DONE
Pick her up; go to grandparents; fetch TJ and Chris; come home.
Take out the recycling.
And the kitty litter.
Sort out all the escape room stuff currently in my living room.
Edit “Feuding Fae” and coordinate postcard printing (and letter printing).
Sort “Murder in the Mail” stock.
Design and post ad for “Murder in the Mail” final subscription period (and “Magic in the Mail: Feuding Fae” first subscription period).
Organise a launch for “The Princess and the Pirate”?
Write business plan and sign contracts for “See Through” (yup, that’s a whole new book).
Organise a launch for “Feuding Fae”?
Write a blog post. With pics.
Appropriately drowning-like picture (actually swimming in a tidal pool last Christmas, which I LOVED).
TJ had his first truly epic blood nose about 3am last night and Chris and I both had to get up and run around with tissues and towels and so on. Then I got super anxious about… just… life. All of it. It took a long time to get back to sleep.
I’m still feeling panicky and overwhelmed today, so I thought making a list might help. Then I colour coded the list; blue for things I can delegate to Chris; purple for “won’t take long”, and red for seriously needs to be done today. Yellow for things I’ve already done and should celebrate.
I’m gonna do the gluing now. That will be one small thing done. Then I’ll probably go have a nap (from 3am-6am I slept on the couch; I could hear Chris snoring even from there). I nap 9 days out of 10 because of one of my meds (amytriptyline, for those who like knowing such things), and I’m also recovering from the flu at the moment.
If I have a shower on the way to bed, then that’s two jobs done.
Yes, showering is a job. Sometimes I feel fine after a shower; sometimes I’m exhausted. Either way I dread showering.
In other news, I have an operation scheduled for 12 June. It’s for adenomyosis (and presumed endometriosis). I’ve been having stronger and stronger endometriosis symptoms… which is good, because if it’s bad enough (which they only know by operating on it) then not only will my overall health improve a bunch, but I’ll get an insurance payout too.
So that will be awesome.
Guest Post: What doesn’t kill me. . .
Hello and welcome to Karen J Carlisle!
Karen J Carlisle is a writer and illustrator of steampunk, Victorian mysteries and fantasy. She was short-listed in Australian Literature Review’s 2013 Murder/Mystery Short Story Competition. Her first novella, Doctor Jack & Other Tales, was published in 2015 and her short stories have featured in the 2016 Adelaide Fringe exhibition, ‘A Trail of Tales’, and the ‘Where’s Holmes’ and ‘Deadsteam’ anthologies.
Karen lives in Adelaide with her family and the ghost of her ancient Devon Rex cat.
She’s always loved dark chocolate and rarely refuses a cup of tea. http://www.karenjcarlisle.com
Karen is just about to release The Department of Curiosities. Here’s the blurb:
Miss Matilda Meriwether has a secret. Actually, she has several. One of them has shaped her adult life. Another now controls it. Her Majesty Queen Victoria has control of the Empire. She is the Empire, and creator of its secrets. Sir Avery works for The Department of Curiosities – the keepers of secrets – especially if they are useful to the Empire. When Tillie finds herself in the employment of The Department of Curiosities, she realises this is the perfect opportunity to uncover the truth she has been searching for. But the Queen has other plans for her.
The Department of Curiosities is a steampunk tale of adventure, a heroine, mad scientists, traitors and secrets. All for the good of the Empire.
And here’s a guest blog:
What doesn’t kill me…
“Was mich nicht umbringt macht mich stärker.”
“That which does not kill us, makes us stronger.”
-Friedrich Nietzsche (German philosopher),
Twilight of the Idols (1888)
Today I’m writing about writing processes, the evolution of The Department of Curiosities and a long, long journey through the dark.
In 2012 my life changed. For six months I floundered. I’d worked since I was fifteen. Now, suddenly and unexpectedly, I wasn’t. I was lost. How had this happened? Why had this happened? Why me? Why?
I was given professional advice: do something I like. “Find your bliss,” they said. “Do something for yourself.”
I’d always wanted to be a writer and artist, so I turned to a quirky fantasy story that had been mulling around in my head since the late 1980s. But my mood was too dark for the characters. I didn’t blame them. There were other stories wanting to be freed. I turned to a steampunk story I’d been toying with… An adventure. It had a name: The Department of Curiosities. I started writing.
For almost a year I wrote, as my professional world began to crumble, and finally crashed in 2014. I felt used, abused, betrayed, and abandoned. My mental health was stretched. After twenty-eight years of looking after everyone else – my family, my patients – I had to learn to look after myself (not as easy as it sounds). I felt selfish. I felt exhausted. I felt useless.
I stopped writing.
The characters of The Department of Curiosities slipped back into the shadows not wanting to entertain the Black Dog. I didn’t blame them either. Eventually, Viola Stewart stepped forward, willing to sacrifice herself (and her eye) to support and guide me through the next three years. Jack the Ripper, and various nefarious villains, helped me explore motives and psychology as I delved into the darker side of humanity: why do people do what they do? In the process I confronted my own daemons and my personal Black Dog, which constantly nipped at my heels.
Being trained as a scientist, I needed not only to put a name to my emotions, but to discover why I felt this way. Almost five years of professional help, and I hadn’t progressed beyond: Anxiety, ‘deep breathing’ and ‘finding my happy place’.
In 2018 I changed professionals, and was challenged to confront myself. I was diagnosed with PTSD. I started desensitisation therapy.
Finally I felt a slight ease. Things made sense. There was the odd moment of calm. A smile here and there. Aunt Enid popped by, providing a glimmer of hope in my writing worlds. She was beginning to open the doorway back to my original fantasy story… but I wasn’t (and am not) quite there yet.
Tillie stepped forward. She was ready to be heard. I glanced over my notes, pulled out my original manuscript (of almost 80,000 words). I started at the beginning –rewriting, scribbling down notes and plot changes as I went. The story was a little darker than I’d originally envisaged, but overall was a much lighter story than Viola’s murder mysteries, with adventure at its heart.
The Department of Curiosities is my longest story yet – at 104,000 (ish) words/420 pages. Most of the plot has remained intact, though I’ve rewritten almost everything – cutting back on ‘tell’, rewriting ‘inactive’ sentences and adding extra characters. I’ve learned so much about writing in the past five years! During the process, I discovered Tillie, like me, has been fighting to control her own life.
I’ve heard people describe writing as a form of therapy. But it’s not an easy path (at least not the one I took), and not one for the faint hearted. I confronted some dark themes, shied away from some, and embraced others. I discovered catharsis. I’ve excised a character’s eye in revenge, peeked into the darkness of the soul, confronted the feeling of helplessness, and struggled to free myself (and my characters) from the control (or at least the perceived control) of others. I’ve even visited the happier memories from my childhood.
It’s been a long journey, and looks to be a long, rocky trek ahead. Writing has played a major part, sometimes taking me on unexpected side paths, but all heading in one direction: forward.
I feel like I’m starting to free myself from years of expectations and self-denial and neglect. I’ve found a way to work through some of my darker thoughts. It’s helped me to accept (on good days) that I deserve ‘me time’, to look after myself and my mental health. As Writing has made me stronger. I’m starting to believe in myself again. I’m facing my fears and anxieties one at a time. Sometimes I win. Sometimes they do. Perhaps one day I will bring that Black Dog to heel?
The Department of Curiosities is my fifth book – and my longest (if you don’t count that fantasy book still squirming in the back of my head), not only in word count, but in gestation time. I wrote another five chapters and shuffled two chapters into the second book of the trilogy.
I started this journey in 2013. It’s taken five years to see it to completion. It’s taken a year to finally finish the final version of the manuscript.
The Department of Curiosities will be officially released on 22nd May (Tillie’s birthday). A perfect time for new beginnings…
You can find out more information on where to buy it at: http://www.karenjcarlisle.com/shop Check out the book trailers at https://karenjcarlisle.com/books/the-department-of-curiosities/book-trailers-the-department-of-curiosities/
If you want to follow the rest of The Department of Curiosities book launch blog tour, check out the links on my blog post: http://www.karenjcarlisle.com/DOC1bookblogtour You can sign up for my newsletter at: https://karenjcarlisle.com/sign-up-email-list/
Follow me on: · Twitter: https://twitter.com/kjcarlisle · Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/karenjcarlisle/ · Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/KarenJCarlisle/
Or support me on Patreon (for less than a cup of coffee a month and you get cool rewards!): https://www.patreon.com/KarenJCarlisle
Christmas: Stress
NB: The Mary Sue pop culture site wrote a far better article on Christmas stress. Go read it here.
I live in fear of Christmas from about October onwards. (I also start buying presents for my kids at that stage, which I like doing—so there’s that.)
It’s particularly tricky for those who are at the “moved out of home but don’t have a family of their own” life stage (which can be incredibly lonely) or those who have recently lost a close family member to death or divorce.
And of course for those who suffer from depression, social anxiety, or other chronic illnesses. The pressure to be happy and joyful can be horrifying, and it climaxes on Christmas Day. It feels like the whole word is saying, “You must be happy and healthy at this time and place!”
There are four major sources of stress around the holiday season:
Finances
There are two ways to make finances better at Christmas. Either you spread things out over the whole year (buy one present a month, for example; buy travel tickets in February and then pay off a little each month) or you reduce the cost of Christmas.
Sometimes, the only option is to be honest: If you can’t afford travel, tell people that you can’t. If you really want to travel, it may be possible to receive travel costs as a gift—send an open group email to the whole family and say, “Instead of gifts, can everyone put in $20 so I can come to the beach without breaking the bank?”
Gift-wise, especially with kids, remember that YOU are setting the standard of what is normal. If the kids get a single gift from you each year, then that’s what they’ll accept as normal (with the occasional comment of, “All my friends get ten presents for Christmas” which you’ll have to resist along with every other “All my friends…” comment that the kids send your way the rest of the year).
EXPECTATIONS are crucial, and honesty, though awkward (and I guarantee some people will just think you’re cheap—screw ’em) can save a lot of pain.
I knew someone who would pick a fight every December and then not show up at Christmas. That’s… certainly a strategy. I would really rather this person just talked to us.
I know someone else who gave spectacularly expensive-looking but wildly thoughtless gifts. Every time they saw something on a massive sale they bought several. And that’s what everyone got for Christmas. They once got really weird about having gifts with half our family at one event and half somewhere else—because of course they’d bought the same thing for everything. Again, that’s a. . . strategy. That one could have worked great if there was any correlation between the gifts and the recipients. Like, if someone hates reading, don’t give them a book? Save it for someone else.
Family
Family is complicated. Some people love getting the full set together in one room (I’m one of them). Other people would rather not see a single member of their family ever again.
If your family is truly abusive, you don’t owe them anything. Get out fully if that’s truly what’s best for you.
If your family is annoying, or just one or two are awful but the rest are great, see if you can work out a way to take the bad with the good (or, if you’re especially cunning, find a path where you get more good and less bad).
If your family is mostly good, be honest about your abilities to give/host/travel/etc. Traditions don’t have value if they’re hurting you. For me, it’s often easier to host than go somewhere else.
Travel
It’s really, really hard. Things will also go wrong. Travelling at Christmas is harder than at any other time because (a) So many people are doing it, and (b) You gotta pack gifts (both giving and receiving).
If you know you’re not physically, mentally, or emotionally up to it. . . you have a choice.
If you can handle travel, work out what you need to make it suck less. For me, an ample supply of chocolate, water, and snacks makes a huge difference. Air conditioning is crucial, and so is ‘down time’.
Take your painkiller of choice, and if you’re inclined to get travel sickness of any kind then take supplies for that too.
Pure Busyness
Don’t be an idiot and promise a 3-part Christmas blog.
Manage expectations, both those others put on you and the ones you put on yourself.
Learn to say “No” and/or “Not this year”.
Basically, expectations (including traditions) can be helpful (“I know I’m meant to bring a plate every year”) or harmful (“I know I’m meant to bring a whole roast turkey even though I’m driving interstate to get there in time aieeeee”). In the end, although manners are important, you are the boss of you. Take charge, and make Christmas fun for you—whether that means staying home and watching “Die Hard” with no pants on, or travelling in convoy with your 32 cousins to great-grandma’s retirement home and eating nothing but funyuns for two days.
Kids home from school
That’s a whole ‘nother story. I haven’t worked out a good strategy for being “on” for ten hours a day for 6 weeks, so feel free to share your strategies in the comments.
The moral of today’s blog: Kids, animals, travel emergencies, and health are unpredictable. Plan for that.
But most of all, plan for who you are and what you can realistically do.
Good luck.
The Banana Bread of Destiny
The only good thing about banana bread is that is uses up bananas.*
Ingredients
1 and a half c buckwheat flour
1 c coconut sugar
1 tsp baking powder
1/2 tsp baking soda
2 tsp cinnamon
1 c mashed banana
1 egg
1/2 c yogurt
1/4 c grapeseed oil
1/3 c maple syrup
2 tsp vanilla bean paste
Method
1. Mix flour, sugar, baking powder, baking soda, and cinnamon.
2. Add banana, egg, yogurt, oil, maple syrup, and vanilla. Mix.
3. Pour into a lightly greased 21cm x 10cm loaf tin lined with baking paper.
4. Bake for 1 hour at 160 degrees or until cooked when tested with a skewer.
Obviously, the kids loved this. Even Louisette.
Yum Factor: 0
Health: 2
Easy: 4
Will make again? Nope. Bananas are evil.
*Apologies to the 6 year-old child who lovingly contributed this recipe to her Year 1 class.
Aaaand we’re done!
While in the waiting room today I looked over my last three months of blood sugar readings. It turns out I spoke too soon when I blamed that delicious baklava for my record-breaking blood sugar reading the following morning.
As is utterly obvious to anyone who glances at me in passing, I eat a lot of chocolate. Like, every day. (I’m gonna go analyse that habit sometime soon.)
Despite this, my blood sugar has been remarkably good ever since my stomach operation last year. (Pause for cheering!)
Except these school holidays.
Was it all these not-usually-healthy recipes?
Actually, nope.
I looked back over the past three months of daily blood sugar readings, and guess what?
There were a total of 10 high blood sugar readings.
1 was due to getting up at stupid o’clock to drive to Sydney.
1 was just random.
2 were due to medical appointments. (Often deeply stressful.)
The other 6—that is, 60%—were ALL on the one day a week that I look after the kids for the full day (that is, from 8am until 6pm, while Chris is at work and there’s no day care or grandparents).
So that’s informative. Unfortunately for everyone, I associate the kids with an increase in physical pain and panic, which of course is a self-fulfilling thing.
So school’s about to start again, which is going to help with my sanity a bunch, but I clearly need to think about this some more. For one thing, I’ll make sure Chris takes more time off work next holidays.
Felicity Banks 