Houses & Fashion Part One
I have developed a full-blown Autistic special interest in houses—massive dream houses specifically, but along the way I have found many things that I now vehemently believe are simply INCORRECT… or in some cases, wonderful and brilliant.
I’m a white woman living in the Capitalist Western World, so of course I have that most basic b*tch of basic b*tch longings: a bigger house. Many people in my generation will never have a house at all (thanks, billionaires!). I actually own my house, which is amazing considering that I am a Millennial AND someone who is disabled by chronic illness. (My husband Chris has a decent job, which obviously is crucial, and we both have financially stable parents who have helped us greatly in many ways. Also I used to have amazing self-control eg I didn’t buy ANYTHING baby-related when I was pregnant with my first kid, because I knew I’d be super tempted but also receive some gifts.)
Pictured: Things I buy unnecessary toys for frequently.
I literally dream of houses, quite often—it started before we bought our own house and continued afterwards. Despite that I felt guilty about owning a house at all due to my awareness of serious third world poverty plus the fact I’m living on Stolen Land. From the age of 12 to 24 I was going to live in Indonesia as an unpaid aid worker, and I’ve never truly resolved the inherent injustice of my privilege compared to some of the Third World communities I’ve known.
But in 2019 I had an epiphany that I don’t have to suffer in order to help others. That very much led to the Castle of Kindness Refugee Sponsorship Group (aka, staying in Australia while still helping the 3rd world). At the same time, I personally have many unmet needs due to being disabled, and part of the whole 2019 epiphany involved thinking about what kind of home would best support my own needs and gifts. I designed a ‘Castle’ where multiple families could live. It had a pool and two spas (one inside and one outside, for enjoying the views and the outside world), with two lifts leading upstairs, a free food pantry, and the capacity for medium-sized community events such as big-screen movie nights and cooking classes (multiple ovens), etc. I wanted it to be completely wheelchair accessible, with features for Hard of Hearing and Vision Impaired people too, as I’m very aware that disabled people struggle to find appropriate housing. And it needed to be close to a shopping hub, so newly-arrived refugees could walk to the shops easily. I am also very aware that most refugee families have at least one chronic health condition (often poorly understood, much as fibromyalgia is poorly understood) and usually sore muscles from stress alone (plus prejudices against mental health care that take time to overcome)—so the spas were not just useful to my own chronic pain, but would be a resource for refugees and other chronically ill people. This ‘castle’ would also be able to act as an evacuation centre for disabled or autistic people who are especially ill-suited to the usual evacuation centres. And it would be built to excellent climate standards, with solar (and a solar power battery for protection as the weather grows more severe), and incredible air filters etc for the next time Canberra has a major smoke issue. And it would look like a castle (or otherwise iconic), because that would be awesome.
Since I have seen miracles happen before (particularly the financial kind as I’ve always been a low earner), I confidently expected this ‘Castle’ to someday, somehow come into being. Most of the time I still do, even though it’s obviously a huge expensive dream that I’m entirely incapable of working towards in any financial sense. And quite a selfish one too, so perhaps God would choose not to make this particular miracle happen.
Every so often, if there was a big house for sale in my area, I’d go to the Open House and think about whether it would meet any of the goals of this longed-for ‘Castle’. Over time my dreams changed quite a bit-for example, I definitely DON’T want to share a house with anyone, no matter how big it is (although having a separate, lockable section for short-term accommodation for newly-arrived refugees would be EXTREMELY helpful). And now I’ve fallen deeply into cat fostering, I want specific things that would help with that (both in terms of hygiene and in terms of cat joy… and a customer space for a small business running cat encounters).
And I’ve looked at houses more and more, and found that my husband also likes looking at houses, and so does one of my best friends, and I have dived deep into current house/design fashions, and started becoming more and more obsessed.
So here we are.
The first, most obvious thing about modern houses is that a LOT of them have a flat roof and are shaped like a box. This gives an impression of clean lines and can look cool, but it’s SO DUMB and is going to make so so many houses look extremely dated.
They only possible reason to have a flat roof is to have a grass roof on top, and no one is doing that, so there’s absolutely no benefit to this weirdly pervasive trend.
Even a little bit of originality can considerably improve the look of a house. This is a house that recently sold, and in my opinion the offset look of the boxes improves it considerably (but it also means it’s split-level, which is very bad for anyone with dodgy knees or balance issues).
A lot of homes have a slant on one side, which keeps the boxy look so many people are apparently so fond of, but doesn’t go as aggressively as some houses (which are literally rectangular from the front).
This particular house also demonstrates four other traits:
- Render: Render has been hugely popular in houses for a couple of decades now, and I confess I much prefer the ‘plain’ look of render to the ‘busy’ look of brick. Yep, I’ve fallen for the fashion. Also, you can draw on them with chalk really well, which is fun. And they improve your energy rating, which is good for the planet and good for your bills.
- White. There is a LOT of white in new houses lately. It is striking and looks super clean and new… for a while. I like the drama of a mostly-white facade, but I suspect I’d regret it in time (or just paint it another colour, which is a relatively easy way to instantly make a house iconic eg, paint it lime green).
- At least two textures. This house has white render, grey render, a bit of brick, and a bit of wood between the two upstairs windows. This is more than fashion—this is the law. Houses in new suburbs must have at least two textures. I actually like this, except when there are two feature textures next to each other, then I find it WAY too much.
- Wooden features are super cool, but also quite high maintenance. Worth it, though, in my opinion. I love wood. There are often stone or pretend-stone features, which I also LOVE. Wood and stone in the same building is great too, depending on what is where.
- Sandstone. In this case it’s the mailbox and a bit of retaining wall. There’s a lot of sandstone around and I LOVE it. Especially when the pieces are irregular rather than all rectangular. The only exception is if it’s placed somewhere that instantly stains (eg garden edging, where muddy water will run down over it).
Of course, the best thing about new houses is they have increasingly impressive energy ratings—I’ve seen up to 7.5.
So, in conclusion: Render is great; white is risky but replaceable; wood and stone is great if placed correctly; boxes are extremely stupid.
This is the way.
Houses are increasingly large on smaller and smaller blocks, which is obviously bad because it doesn’t leave enough green space for human well-being or for the well-being of the suburb (eg the entire suburb will be hotter in Summer and colder in Winter). And, the street frontage is much smaller too, in some cases making places an absolute nightmare as there is not enough parking for even ordinary life, let alone a party or event. This will definitely result in major fire damage at some point, as streets literally become impassable. Sometimes there is not a single visitor parking spot—no driveway, and a street too narrow to park on the street (except people still do park on the street, obviously). Ugh.
Garages doors often have windows or something that looks like wood. This is great as they’re a big part of the look of the house. (I really like arches, but I prefer a double garage with one big door because that’s just easier to get in and out.)
Adventures in Community Sponsorship of Refugees
[Media Release]
Afghan refugee Sara Tahiri, her Australian-born cousin Jamila Amir, and honorary Castle of Kindness Refugee Sponsorship Group member Lizzie Banks.
On the 7th of June this year, Musa and Amina Tahiri* were told they and their four children would be moving to Australia in fifteen days. Musa and Amina are Afghans who lived as refugees in Iran for thirty years before the Australian government’s Community Refugee Integration and Settlement Pilot (CRISP) opened the door to a new life.
Musa and Amina Tahiri.
When they arrived in Australia on June 22nd, mother of two Felicity Banks met them at the airport with snacks, water, and a ball for two year-old Sara to play with. Along with other members of the Castle of Kindness Refugee Sponsorship Group, she accompanied them to a house in Canberra. It was prepared for them with furniture, linen, and seasonal clothing donated by the wider Canberra community. There was halal food in the fridge, colourful art on the walls, and a freshly-made Afghan meal for them to eat.
Sara Tahiri.
A few days later, a member of the Castle of Kindness was showing the Tahiri family how to walk to their local Aldi while Canberra’s winter wind whipped sleet into their faces, and was astonished when eighteen year-old Ahmad used Google Translate to tell her, “I think this is like Paradise.”
Sara Tahiri with Lizzie Banks at the National Arboretum.
The Castle of Kindness Refugee Sponsorship Group is made up of a mix of Canberrans, some of whom had not met before forming the group. Each person brings their own skills, connections, and personality to the table. Felicity Banks is the coordinator. She says, “None of our group members speak Farsi, and it’s often difficult to communicate. But the fact that I speak English means I already have a skill that refugees need. We also have access to free translation services, and the local Afghan and Iranian communities. One Canberra woman grew up in the same Afghan town as Amina—and now their youngest daughters go to the same playgroup.”
Sara Tahiri communicating eloquently with Lizzie Banks.
The Castle of Kindness Refugee Sponsorship Group has shown the Tahiri family around their new neighbourhood, accompanied them to health care appointments, taught them how to catch buses, and connected them to English lessons, local small businesses, and more. “People think Canberra is soulless and unfriendly,” says Felicity, “but it’s simply not true. The wider community has welcomed the Tahiris with gifts, practical help, kindness, and friendship. There are groups like ours forming all around Australia. Most Australians already know that refugees deserve a chance to thrive.”
Amina and Sara Tahiri with Leslie, another member of the Castle of Kindness, the day they moved into long-term rental accommodation chosen by the Tahiris.
One day, when the Tahiris were preparing to walk home from Felicity’s house, little Sara confidently told her family, “You go home. I’ll come later.” She is a bright, defiant, affectionate and confident girl that Felicity calls “Little Miss Pterodactyl” because she loves to scream for joy. “When I imagine this strong-willed and clever girl growing up as a stateless woman in Iran, I shiver,” says Felicity. “Amina sleeps better now that she lives in Australia, because her children are safe. She has also just started a new job.”
Sara playing with Lizzie’s hair
The Albanese government recently announced that they would increase Australia’s Refugee and Humanitarian Intake to 20,000 per year, which is welcome news to refugee advocates. Minister for Immigration, Citizenship and Multicultural Affairs Andrew Giles also says, “The Government is committed to ensuring that Australia steps up and plays its part in addressing the global humanitarian crisis, including by increasing community sponsored and other complementary places gradually to 10,000 over time and making this additional to our humanitarian intake.”
Amina and Sara Tahiri in Tidbinbilla Nature Reserve
On the other hand, Iran alone is currently hosting over 750,000 registered refugees, most of whom are Afghans. Felicity says, “I can’t provide a home for every refugee in the world, or even every refugee in Iran. But to Sara and her family, the world has changed completely because of one small group of Canberrans. They’ve changed my world for the better too.”
Felicity and Sara at Bondi Beach (photo by Amina).
The Tahiri family loves to see cockatoos, gum trees, and kangaroos around Canberra. When the Castle of Kindness found out the Tahiris had close relatives in Sydney and had never seen the ocean, group member Christine O’Callaghan joined Felicity and her whole family in taking the Tahiris on a holiday to Sydney—including a trip to the beach with their cousins the Amirs. “Because we’re a community group, we can choose to do things just for fun,” says Felicity. “My heart was filled with joy to see the Tahiris connecting with their Australian-born cousins. And Mrs Amir invited all twelve of us to her home where she filled our stomachs with delicious Afghan food.”
Hassan Tahiri, Amina Tahiri, Felicity Banks, Sara Tahiri, Gisoo Amir, Lizzie Banks, and Christine O’Callaghan eating ice creams.
CRISP groups like the Castle of Kindness holistically support one refugee person or family at a time for their first twelve months in Australia.
Jamila Amir, Mrs Amir, Gisoo Amir, Amina Tahiri, Sara Tahiri, and Lizzie Banks at Bondi Beach.
The Castle of Kindness Refugee Sponsorship Group receives no government funding. They are running an Open Garden Fundraiser on Saturday 11 November from 10:00am-4:00pm at 15 Cockerill Pl McKellar including a plant stall, live music, home-made baked goods, contests for kids and adults, a talk by horticultural expert Bryn Hutchison at 11:30am, and a talk by Felicity Banks about refugee sponsorship at 1:30pm. There is also a Posy-Making workshop at 3:00pm. Their GoFundMe is here.
Their web site is here, and Felicity can be contacted directly at CastleOfKindness@gmail.com
For more information about the government’s Community Refugee Integration and Settlement Pilot, click here. Or here for an update from the office of the Hon Andrew Giles MP.
*names have been changed
Refugee Sponsorship (and cats, and lego)
On the 13th of June (although, as usual in 2020 time, it feels like a million years ago) I switched my rationality off and wrote a big list of stuff I WANT. It ranges from the tragically unattainable (“I want Syria to be okay”) to the obviously psychological (“I want to stop feeling like God is mad at me”) to the shockingly complex (“I want to be a good parent”) to the financial fantasy (“I want a second storey on my house so we can see the mountains”).
A lot of entries are financial fantasy, if I’m honest. (A friend said to me the other day, “You know what your problem is? You’re not rich. I recommend you get rich.”) At the moment our whole household is bent towards replacing our air conditioning system (a really nice—and expensive—system which unfortunately for our finances is necessary for my health). It’s a horribly familiar feeling to be unable to afford medically helpful stuff (like a CPAP machine).
Moving on. Here are some items on the list that are of note:
I want my cats to do their business outside so I never have to deal with it… but at the same time, to be prevented from hunting native birds or animals.
Our yard is narrow (maximum about 3m from the house to the fence) but it wraps around three sides of the house. The main back door leads into a nice area in the corner between two of those sides, where a parent can sit and see the whole yard except for a narrow weed-bound strip that is 1.3m wide next to a windowless wall. We call that bit “the junk area”, “the jungle” (weeds grow over 6 feet there), or “the cat zone” because when the weeds are reduced and there’s bare dirt or mulch, it’s a perfect outside cat toilet.
Zipper likes it, and I’m confident that as Zoom grows bigger she’ll use it too (at the moment she’ll only go outside if there’s a human nearby… or sometimes she’ll follow ZIpper, but not far).
So the first part of the above wish was always relatively simple. The second part, not so much. I’m aware of a product called the ‘Oscillot‘ which basically just attaches to the top of a fence and flips the cat back down to the ground when they try to jump out. It’s simple and brilliant but costs around $50/metre and our yard is long. Then I saw a home-made version of this $700 deluxe cat enclosure:
The thing that inspired me was the very wide holes in the netting. Could we possible hook large pieces of netting between our house and the fence? That would enclose the space without making it too shady or too vulnerable to strong winds (which rip through more solid materials). Since that epiphany we’ve put shadecloth (which we already had) over the cat zone and we’ve mostly dealt with the weeds (and put newspaper underneath to hamper their growth—the shadecloth itself will also make it a less appealing area for weeds). So this dream is looking much more plausible. And we can do it bit by bit, section by section, until it’s done. In theory.
I want a bigger house, so Louisette has more room for her toys and I have more room for my ideas.
Even as a baby, Louisette has always obsessively arranged her favourite toys around her on the floor. This is… not ideal for anyone else. But I recently found out that people with ADD have an odd relationship with object permanence. Yes, technically they know that people and objects still exist when they’re not directly in front of them… but then again, sorta not.
Louisette will often take 6-10 trips from her bedroom to the living room in the morning, bringing out a large number of her toys and arranging them very carefully around her as she watches TV. It helped a LOT to give her an ancient laptop so she can watch TV in her room (and yes, I know that’s terrible parenting). But a few weeks ago we decided to go all-out on supporting her style and we let her have the entire converted garage for herself (sort of… there are still lots of bookshelves in there, and a spare bed). So that’s 6m by 3m. It includes a massive desk (1 metre by 2 metres) which is where the laptop lives AND a-l-l her lego. (One of the few rules I gave her was “No lego on the floor – ever”). So she watches TV and plays with lego (or does art, or plays with her other toys, or whatever). She also has a ‘babies’ area, a ‘Barbies/dollhouse’ area, and a ‘Doc Macstuffins’ area. Plus lots of open shelving.
She is thriving, and she almost never brings toys out to the living room. It’s only been a few weeks, and her room looks incredibly messy at first glance… but it’s arranged and rearranged and played with in very specific and orderly ways. And her lego creations are incredible. It perfectly mixes her inventing ability with her imaginative ability, and lets her both express herself and problem solve at the same time. She’s an 8 year-old lego master.
Of course I ended up with even less room to move/breathe, because I’m the only tidy person in the house (Chris also has ADD, and Tim appreciates tidiness but he’s 6 so there’s only so much self-regulation he’s going to do). Oh well. It’s not like the escape room is operating at the moment anyway, thanks to COVID-19.
I want to know refugees are looked after and welcomed, not just into safety (in Australia) but into living communities.
I want to know I’m making a difference.
I want my ‘good ideas’ realised.
I want to help Indonesian refugee families (but I’m also super shy and awkward).
If you’re one of the three people who regularly follow this blog (I’d say “Hi Mum” but my mum isn’t one of you), you’ll recollect my ‘castle’ idea from here and here. Basically, I wanted to build a big beautiful house (that looks like a castle, with lifts in the square towers for disabled access) in which to live while also providing short-term accommodation for disabled Indonesian refugee families. Because they’d be in ‘my’ house, I would find it (relatively) easy to support them with stuff like social events, English lessons, driving lessons, play dates with my kids, babysitting, some unskilled paid work (eg gardening/cleaning) to fill in gaps while they looked for regular work, and so on.
Well it looks like the core part of the castle idea—which is not the castle, but assisting refugees—might be coming true as early as 2021.
And Zoom jumped into the hammock with me (and TJ) the other day, so that was a win.
I’ll tell you what I want, what I really really want
The biggest personality difference between Chris and I is that Chris is so calm that if he was any calmer he’d be dead, and I am so stressed that I basically vibrate 24/7. We have a ‘stone and feather’ kind of relationship where he is strong and steady and I might be fragile but I can FLY.
I want things. Not just in a capitalist way, but also in an almost spiritual way. While a lot of people struggle to come up with ideas, or to follow through on ideas, I am very bad at letting go of ideas. And I have plenty. Even if, magically, everything on this list came true, I would definitely find something else to want. It’s my nature.
Sometimes, it’s worth writing down what you want, even if it seems impossible. So that is what’s happening today. Some of these things are more possible than others. Some are obviously self-serving and/or motivated by some kind of deep-seated psychological issue. Oh, and Louisette is mentioned a lot (while TJ isn’t) because TJ is doing great in every area and Louisette is mostly great but there are threats to her happiness on every side (mostly because of her ADD).
Still.
I want a jacuzzi and an easy-access lap pool. Both at my house, or as close as possible.
I want a building that looks like a castle. It doesn’t have to be mine; I just want it to exist. In Canberra, because of me. And to be able to go and visit it in some capacity at least once. Maybe for the Conflux Speculative Fiction Festival?
I want a disability-friendly evac centre (or several; one in each major area of Canberra at least).
I want to know refugees are looked after and welcomed, not just into safety (in Australia) but into living communities.
I want to know I’m making a difference.
I want my ‘good ideas’ realised.
I want to be out of debt.
I want to be able to give away money; lots of it. Often. To writers, artists, disabled people, single parents, my own family, people of colour, and refugees (especially Muslims and/or LGBTIQA+ folk).
I want to write. Pretty much every day.
I want to be a good parent.
I want to stop feeling like God is mad at me.
I want LGBTIQA+ people to stop feeling like God is mad at them.
I want LGBTIQA+ people to feel safe and welcome at all church events.
I want my house to be both clean (bathrooms, kitchens, etc) and tidy (toys etc).
I want Louisette to be safe from bullying, and to have close friends at school.
I want the kids to go to a Christian high school (ideally a reformed BCC due to the location, and existing friendships).
I want Climate Change to be acknowledged by politicians and public figures as the most crucial challenge of our time, and for the world to change dramatically in order to deal with it.
I want lots of solar panels on my roof, and double glazed windows, and excellent AC – ie a house that acknowledges and deals with Climate Change (and my specific temperature needs). And I want that for every house in Australia and Indonesia and the US and China and the world.
I want deliberate stupidity and harmful lies to be illegal, and prosecuted, particularly when it comes to Climate Change, COVID-19, racism, asylum seekers, immigrants, and the sick/poor.
I want my cats to do their business outside so I never have to deal with it… but at the same time, to be prevented from hunting native birds or animals.
I want to not push myself so hard I get sicker.
I want a second storey on my house so we can see the mountains.
I want a bigger house, so Louisette has more room for her toys and I have more room for my ideas.
I want to recoup my losses from Murder/Magic in the Mail (ideally by selling all the stock I have, but magically without exhausting myself putting the packs together).
I like running the free pantry but I want more cash for it so we’re not losing money.
I want to help Indonesian refugee families (but I’m also super shy and awkward).
I want Aboriginal Australians to be safe, and to be healed from generational trauma.
I want Muslims to be safe and welcome in Australia.
I want LGBTIQA+ people to be safe, physically and emotionally, in Australia and around the world.
I want women to earn the same amounts as men, and to do the same amount of household work, and to be allowed to be intelligent, and to be respected by medical professionals. Even when they’re fat, or disabled, or mentally ill, or pregnant, or mothers.
I want disability access to be standard for all new houses, and for disabled people to have the housing and support they need.
I want disabled lives to matter as much as non-disabled lives. Ditto fat lives.
I want to stop being phobic of my kids (and of kids in general).
I want to not be so tired, or so anxious.
I want to be cured of sleep apnea. And migraines. And HS. And sweatiness.
I want my house to be a place friends and family want to come to.
I want to be a mother hen, but not to become overwhelmed by others’ troubles.
I want my marriage to be better (it’s already pretty good).
I want to travel (and for my body to be able to handle it), especially to see our Hong Kong family.
I want Hong Kong to be safe from China’s looming chokehold. Tibet, too.
I want Syria to be okay.
I want off-shore detention centres closed down, and all asylum seekers processed quickly and fairly, and refugees welcomed into Australia rather than left to die at sea or in their home country.
I want the Rohingya people to have a home.
I want USA Republicans to stop believing Russian troll farms and other sources of lies (particularly their own leaders).
I want Christians to be known for their love, not their hate and/or stupidity and/or casual evil.
I want to feel special.
I want to use my brain.
I want to feel loved.
I want to be a better writer.
I want to be much less overweight.
I want my eyes to work properly, and see better.
I want Louisette to be able to say full sentences without getting distracted and mentally checking out.
I want new, fully functional iphones for me and Chris and our friend whose phone is broken. [Edit: He has a working phone now.]
I want to enjoy healthy food.
I want to do God’s will.
I want our house to be big enough to comfortably host large-ish gatherings (30-50 people) and/or to host a family or two during disasters.
I want to be well enough to wear fancy clothes.
I want to look good in fancy clothes.
I want someone else to run my escape rooms and make money for them and us. I want to be able to poke my head in sometimes.
I want Chris to be happy. (Which he is, mostly.)
I want Chris to work closer to home (or at home).
Things I want that I already have:
Chris
2 great kids
2 cats, including a kitten
A house
Peace in my country
The ability to vote
Nice sunsets
Good friends (for me and Chris and the kids)
Many books to read
Many books to write
Fans
Published novels
Writer friends
Non-writer friends
Friends with/without kids
Some pretty clothes
Some comfortable shoes
The ability to shop sometimes, both online and not
Loads of chocolate and lollies and brie
Lots of great TV and a comfy couch
Hammock
I’m still alive, but spending a bit more time in the real world, which is not a bad thing. Thanks to Zoom, life is pretty good.
She is handling a leash and harness very well, so the other day Louisette and TJ and I took her into the backyard.
During the outside time she was mostly getting used to the usual smells and sounds of our neighbourhood, so it was the perfect time for Operation Hammock Kitten.
Sure, she doesn’t look comfortable. But that’s because of being outside rather than anything to do with the hammock. She’ll need to stay on the lead outside for many months to come, but she has no fundamental objections to the hammock so this is a win.
Then of course the kids each wanted a turn:
I’ve also been doing a foolish and irresponsible (but fun) thing, which is that when Zipper is very well settled and Zoom is sleepy, I pick up Zoom and move her over into a snuggling position with Zipper. Zoom doesn’t mind this at all; Zipper is not such a fan.
I know I shouldn’t push it, but it amuses me. (And Zipper doesn’t freak out and kill Zoom, which is of course important too.) Zoom has been with us two and a half weeks, and she’s looking distinctly rounded in the middle so I’m slowly cutting down the amount of food I give her.
Oh! And we solved the litter box problem by giving Zoom a second litter box. Strange but true. It was inspired by doing some reading and discovering that some cats prefer to have one litter box for solids and one for liquids. Zoom definitely uses both boxes for both (and Zipper has been pointedly adding her contributions too), and now I have two litter boxes in my tiny bathroom… but no more accidents. So, good.
How am I?
First, some kitten content. Specifically, a rambling video of Zoom (and sometimes Zipper) playing.
And now for something completely different. The rest of this blog entry will be all about how I’m coping. Feel free to not read it.
Some restrictions have been lifted, and schools will be taking kids back from next week. It’s clear that a vaccine for COVID-19 is still a long way away, and that governments are under considerable pressure to pretend things are normal and safe before they actually are. A lot of people have been sharing a graph of the deaths from the Spanish Flu, showing a much bigger second wave (and then a rather large third wave as well). Others are pointing out that the restrictions are getting lifted not because things are safe out there, but because there is currently room for more patients in the ICU.
Also, I have diabetes (and an auto-immune disease or two) so my chance of dying is considerably higher than the norm.
Also, those who recover from COVID-19 are just beginning to discover that it has left them with major long-term health problems. Being familiar with long-term health problems, I really really don’t want more.
So no, I don’t plan to send the kids back to school, even though it’s so terribly hard to have them here. They’ll stay home for at least the rest of this term. Although I do plan to arrange some playdates—carefully. My family had a Mothers’ Day get-together yesterday and we joined them after lunch (on the basis that sharing food is extra hazardous), but didn’t see Chris’s side of the family. We’ll visit them for TJ’s 6th birthday day next month, and this coming weekend he’ll have a “party” with precisely 2 friends (held outside, while at the same time Louisette has 1 of her friends over, and they play together inside).
But. Still no school, and for a long time.
Zoom is, obviously, a fantastic source of fun, amusement, and cuddles. Feeding her three times a day (down from six now) is a bit of a hassle, and cleaning up her constant weeing in my bathroom is… not great. But as far as mental health goes, she’s an enormous plus.
I’m the kind of person who would do really well living alone and isolated for months at a time. But that’s not my situation at all. I have one kid who I barely see (luckily for my ability to care for her), and one who wants to be with me, talking with me, for most of his waking hours. So the funny, clever, energetic TJ is… a lot.
My plan for schooling is to set up and loosely supervise the half hour Zoom classes each kid has, plus a little bit of writing practice for TJ (he practises reading with Chris at night). He’s not missing friends too badly (in fact he refuses to speak to them on Zoom), and he’s so obsessive about computer games (including educational ones) that he’s way ahead on both reading and maths.
For Louisette, I plan to do some reading with her each day, and to keep up with her maths assignments.
I’m reasonably happy with how things are going with TJ, but I’m quite far behind with Louisette (who is the one who needs more schooling).
Having said that, one or two good days with Louisette could catch us up on the maths stuff.
So maybe I’m doing well after all. It doesn’t feel like it. I have an alarm set for 9:30am so I can be dressed ready for TJ’s 10-10:30am class (if I remember, I set up Louisette to do Cosmic Yoga at the same time). Then I typically fall asleep until my alarm goes at 1pm and it’s time to put my bra back on ready for Louisette’s class. But a lot of times lately I fall back asleep either during or after Louisette’s class, and I don’t do anything directly with her. Oh well.
Having written it down, I’m not all that far away from my goals. And sure, I’m not getting much done lately, but that’s life. I have tired/useless periods and I have other times when I do well. All I really have to do is wait until I have a good day and hope it lines up with a good day for Louisette.
And I’m missing doing writing, which is a good sign.
Wish me luck, and health. I also had a phone call today about my Disability Support Pension application, which means I had to focus on all my physical and mental issues. It’s exhausting, because I usually try not to think about stuff directly. And I suspect it will lead to more forms, which is terrifying and difficult. Oh well. One step closer, presumably.
The Virus Diaries: Slowing Down
I’ve been blogging daily since beginning self-isolation on March 15th. I’m not technically running out of things to say, but I am running a little lower on the urge to blog. So I’ll stop doing daily blog entries soon.
It will be a long, long time before my kids go back to school. For me, that’s the main thing (assuming my loved ones and I continue to avoid the virus… which is a lot more likely the longer I keep the kids home). Term 2 officially begins the day after tomorrow and I get panicky whenever I think about it. Ugh. And it’s very likely that there will be a second wave of COVID-19 starting exactly 2 weeks after schools open. Yuck.
Anyway, here’s Zipper being annoyed at me for taking a picture.
Don’t panic if I don’t blog tomorrow (or even for the next week or two): it’ll be laziness, not illness, that stops me.
Art of the day: Have you tried interactive fiction? It’s like those Choose Your Own Adventure books from the 80s, but these days it’s usually digital (which gives it a glorious flexibility eg you can choose your gender) and sold as apps. There’s a huge amount of fantastic content available from Choice of Games (and their unofficial label, Hosted Games, which has published me several times).
My stories are the pirate adventure Scarlet Sails, the magical steampunk tale Attack of the Clockwork Army (which happens at the same time as my third steampunk novel, and features some of the characters), and the cozy murder mystery Death at the Rectory. I’ve also been part of two group-written games, the retro scifi comedy Starship Adventures, and the portal adventure Lost in the Pages.
The Virus Diaries: Social Distancing is a Skill
It is really really hard to stay 2 metres away from people in public. It feels rude and even a bit insane. I’m not good at it, and my kids are terrible.
We’re all going to be a lot better with more practice, and there are a lot of things (like shaking hands) that will feel icky forever (which, according to Dr Fauci, is a good thing).
Correction: some people will get a lot better. Others will give up.
There’s considerable social pressure in both directions, and not in a political way—in a “getting through the day” kind of way. It’s a relief for me to stay at home where I don’t have to think about it until/unless I open the front door. But I’m trying not to give up the rest of the time.
Here’s Zipper looking heroic, by way of inspiration:
Art of the day: I’m now reading the Old Kingdom books, so there’s at least one person following my own recommendations.
Mishell Baker’s Arcadia trilogy is amazing. The main character is severely mentally ill, and has attempted suicide before the books begin. So, trigger warning. But I find it strangely therapeutic as the book is crammed full of people trying to cope with an array of mental health conditions. Also it’s a cracking good story.
The Virus Diaries: 3 things I want
A lot of people are talking about how the world will change post-pandemic. Here’s what I am most desperately hoping for:
*Way more funding and resources for the World Health Organisation and for various stockpiles around the world. And, frankly, for science in general.
*Very tight laws to prevent people spreading misinformation, especially politicians, news-based sites and shows, and those with a wide reach (such as celebrities and talk show hosts). Yes, free speech is important and must be kept free, but that needs to be modified by NOT rewarding lies. And it needs to be done in an apolitical way despite the fact that one side of politics is way more tolerant of lies (and has a stronger ‘bubble’ of repeated misinformation) than another. This will be really difficult and a lot of people will hate it, but it really really needs to be done.
*Massive worldwide improvement in environment stuff to combat Climate Change, including way less car and air travel. (Of course I still want air travel to be cheap, as I have close and beloved relatives in Hong Kong. But it’ll probably get way more expensive.)
*More people reading for pleasure. (I may be a tiny bit self-interested there.)
What do you hope will change once COVID-19 is done?
Art of the day: I’m not aiming for kids’ entertainment any more (although I often read and love young adult books). The Old Kingdom books by Garth Nix. It started as a trilogy: Sabriel, Lirael, Abhorsen and now has a prequel Clariel and a sequel Goldenhand. I think it’s best experienced in that order but it’s very hard to say.
Farting My ABCs: Chapter 15 (the end!)
In which Louisette attempts to merge with a bush, and TJ performs a fart dance.
Well, there you go!
Today, Zipper ALMOST managed to get her collar off. But instead she got it stuck around both her neck and one leg.
I laughed when I realised, which did not help matters as she fled into TJ’s room. We all backed off, and soon enough she was in her cat box ready to be caught and freed. She’s fine now—not that she deserves it, the little punk.
Art of the day: Er… how about Farting My ABCs? I’m tired; shut up.
Felicity Banks 