During the pandemic I have become an expert at many new things - early morning raids on enemy supply lines to ensure the household has adequate food supplies, masks, sanitiser, avoiding others, especially the ones I don't like. It's risky – I see that small bands of foot soldiers in the service of assorted warlords are roaming the streets, though luckily in the far South and not here. Sometimes I feel like one of those ancient Vikings heading out from the fjords of Norway to plunder distant shores – today Lindisfarne, tomorrow Sonoma Bakery.
Surviving the pandemic #1 – Early morning raids
During the
pandemic I have become an expert at early morning raids on enemy supply
lines to ensure the household has adequate food supplies (and alcohol)
for our troubled times. It's risky – I see that small bands of foot
soldiers in the service of assorted warlords are roaming the streets,
though luckily in the far South and not here.
 |
| I'm wearing my protective armour |
Sometimes I feel like one of those ancient Vikings heading out from the fjords of Norway to plunder distant shores – today Lindisfarne, tomorrow Sonoma Bakery. Unlike them at least I pay for what I take – only on card of course.
I'm wearing my protective armour (what they nowadays call PPE, in this case my trusty KN95 face mask – gold standard in disposables) and I won't be going anywhere near any other stranger out there on the street. If I have to squeeze past them, I just glare (hard to do behind a face mask, but worth the effort
'Sometimes I feel like one of those ancient Vikings heading out from the fjords of Norway to plunder distant shores – today Lindisfarne, tomorrow Sonoma Bakery. Unlike them at least I pay for what I take – only on card of course.'
Most of them are also wearing face armour, though some of them don't seem to realise that unless you cover your whole face, the arrows can still get through – just remember the battle of Hastings!
It requires careful planning. I suspect that early morning raids during the week are not as good as on the weekend because all those working from home are out getting essential supplies (coffee) before they log on to Zoom for a hard day of wage slavery.
It's just another (careful) day in the world of global pandemic, laying down memories and habits that will probably be with us for some time into the future.
Surviving the pandemic #2 – Total Tools
I was intrigued to discover that one of the COVID exposure sites listed here is called Total Tools. Hmmm. I suppose it’s not surprising, given that Worksafe inspections have shown that many building sites are not even managing their standard occupational health and safety obligations, let alone the additional COVID requirements. You can see what happened in Victoria when the sector became a runaway COVID outbreak, coupled with a runaway stupidity outbreak.
However, none of this will matter as ‘freedom day’ looms – or in fact in NSW, has already loomed. Restaurants are already booked out, rows of blokes are busily chug-a-lugging rows of beers and the Aussie way of life is back in business. Hopefully the front-line healthcare workers are getting to spend more time with their families, visiting their elderly relatives or catching up with friends. However they might have to elbow their way past those celebrating their freedom, before getting back to work looking after the surge of cases that is expected.
I’m celebrating freedom day by continuing to eat custard tarts, cultivate my garden and being happy with modest gains, like still being healthy in a global pandemic – touch wood (whatever that old saying actually means).
Surviving the pandemic #3 – Exposure sites
At 6.30 this morning I was at the Farmers Market, somewhere I go every week. Usually I go early, around 6.50 am, but today I was especially early because last week the Market became a COVID exposure site at exactly the same time as I was there – 7 am to 7.30 am. This is no big deal because the Market is sprawling and in vast open outdoor sheds with immense roofs. On top of that at 7 am, not that many people are there – though clearly, last week one of them had COVID. I always wear a tight-fitting N95 mask and avoid everyone else there like the plague. Today I was out and on my way home by 7 am.
The advice about this exposure site was to monitor for symptoms. I clearly have no symptoms and would be unlikely to expect any, given the way I navigate the Market and the fact I am fully vaccinated. I have yet to hear of anyone wearing a mask who caught COVID passing someone else also wearing a mask (mostly) in a flash, especially outdoors. Still, given I am fully vaccinated, would I even notice if I caught COVID? I’m sure I would sense something.
'Even though the world may be opening up, I am settling in for the long haul. No-one would have asked our soldiers in Afghanistan to take off their helmets, and while this civilian threat is a massively lower risk, I’m not taking off my protective equipment out there any time soon. I’ll only take my mask off to smell the roses or the coffee – or inspect the tulips, or in this case, the irises.'
It’s a strange feeling because while a few places I visit regularly have been exposure sites once or twice, not one of them has been an exposure site while I have actually been there, so it did make me think. I suppose as we ‘open up’, this will become more and more common. There will probably be unvaccinated people amongst us who will be likely to catch the virus, as well as the vaccinated who may get a mild dose. Exposure sites will no longer be listed – or even registered.
Even though the world may be opening up, I am settling in for the long haul. No-one would have asked our soldiers in Afghanistan to take off their helmets, and while this civilian threat is a massively lower risk, I’m not taking off my protective equipment out there any time soon. I’ll only take my mask off to smell the roses or the coffee – or inspect the tulips, or in this case, the irises.
Hopefully borders will (slowly and carefully) open before long. We’ve got to be careful not to jump the gun. The other day cruising to a quiet parking spot to have our coffee (extra hot) and custard tarts (extra delicious), we inadvertently missed the turn and found ourselves crossing the border into NSW (the ACT is very small). We promptly turned around and headed back to the multi-car police blockade on the Sydney-Canberra road to explain how we found ourselves in NSW - ‘I know this is going to sound silly, officer.’ I had heard ACT police were patrolling the border, but clearly on this road it was a full-scale operation.
Where would we be without science and medicine? Probably in a Craig Kelly universe – shudder – where if you don’t die of COVID or animal worming medicine, you’ll be drowned in text messages.
Surviving the pandemic #4 – The foot soldiers of discontent
I see that one (at least) of the foot soldiers of discontent in the distant South is in hospital being treated for COVID-19. The good news is that they’ll be okay because they don’t believe in COVID-19. The other good news is that the over-stretched front-line medical staff can be moved to looking after someone who does believe in COVID-19. It also means they get to return their unused high-vis outfit for a full refund since it’s still brand new.
Surviving the pandemic #5 – A mask and a half and liquid or goo
I have many different types of masks. There is the N95 fitted mask for close interaction with baristas and shop staff wearing their mask below their nose. There is the more comfortable reusable mask for walking out in the bush and suburban backstreets.
On top of this there are different grades and types of hand sanitiser. Some are thick and slow moving, others very liquid, more like water. Fail to recognise which type you are applying and you could be drenched with liquid spray or smeared with goo – neither pleasant.
Surviving the pandemic #6 – The best vaccine is wealth
The two factors putting someone most at risk of dying of a COVID-19 infection are age and obesity. I’m becoming convinced that the most effective factor stopping someone from dying of COVID-19 is not being vaccinated, but being rich.
Surviving the pandemic #7 – Testing times
Not all that long ago I did one of the signature acts of our locked down, socially distanced era – I had a COVID-19 test. I’d noticed a shallow cough developing and at first thought it was hay fever. However I thought I should put the matter to rest. I was supposed to attend a dinner on Saturday night but I didn’t go. In this era of heightened concern, who wants to go to a dinner, have someone develop a sniffle and be forced to worry it might be COVID-19. The results of my test came through the next morning – very fast, because I went through the drive through testing station on Sunday around 9.45 am and I saw that the text message came through at 4.21 am the following day. As expected, it was negative.
'It seems I had actually caught a cold. Of course the real puzzle is how did I ever catch a cold? I couldn’t imagine that I would ever catch COVID-19, but I’m almost as surprised at catching a cold. How was this even possible for anyone with all the sanitising and distancing?'
It was quite an experience because the location of the testing station is more often associated in my mind with the weekly Farmers Market or the annual National Folk Festival. It is set up for much greater volumes than it was getting first thing on Sunday morning. I wound along the endless lanes, looping back on route, like someone ascending a high mountain covered in switchbacks. At times I had to stop in case I had wandered off track. When I finally arrived at the testing point there were only five cars and I was in and out in not much more than fifteen minutes.
It seems I had actually caught a cold. Of course the real puzzle is how did I ever catch a cold? I couldn’t imagine that I would ever catch COVID-19, but I’m almost as surprised at catching a cold. How was this even possible for anyone with all the sanitising and distancing? Even more, how could I in particular – who am a meticulous sanitiser and social distancer – ever catch a cold? I even sanitise the groceries when we bring them home before they come into the house. I didn’t even hug before COVID-19 and I only ever shook hands when I had to – too much gesturing for my liking. Even with the negative test I am supposed to stay home until symptoms disappear, and not have visitors. Luckily I can already feel myself picking up steadily. Suddenly I have become a hotspot – or maybe that’s a hackspot.
Surviving the pandemic #8 – An intelligence test waiting to be failed
Increasingly I’m convinced this pandemic is in reality an intelligence test set by aliens for the human race. If we fail the test, they’ll happily eliminate us to raise the average quality of the galaxy. They won’t miss us – and possibly neither will we. The bad news is that while the overwhelming number of people have passed the test with flying colours, there remains a small vocal minority of the self-entitled which doesn’t like anything – or anyone, possibly including themselves, and will fail the test, like every other test they have previously failed in their lives.
'Once upon a time I seem to recall people looked after their neighbours,
thought about their community and did the right thing. Now the right
thing is parking on nature strips, deciding not to get vaccinated
because ‘if I catch it, I’ll be okay’, not wearing a mask in crowded
situations and not putting your indicators on to show other drivers on
the road that you are about to turn.'
It might be easier for the human race to simply dial up a meteorite. We’d lose lots of good people but we’d also lose a small number of very unnecessary and very irritating people, who just scrape into the human category by their knuckles. It might be worth it. After all, the meteorite wouldn’t really care.
Surviving the pandemic #9 – How 'we, we, we' became 'me, me, me'
Once upon a time I seem to recall people looked after their neighbours, thought about their community and did the right thing. Now the right thing is parking on nature strips, deciding not to get vaccinated because ‘if I catch it, I’ll be okay’, not wearing a mask in crowded situations and not putting your indicators on to show other drivers on the road that you are about to turn.
I blame it on too many decades of neo-liberalism, ‘greed is good’, knowing the cost of everything and the value of nothing. Slowly and steadily, without us even noticing, ‘we, we, we’ became ‘me, me, me’.
© Stephen Cassidy 2021
See also
‘We live in troubled times – but then can anyone ever say that they lived in times that weren’t troubled? For most of my life Australia has suffered mediocre politicians and politics – with the odd brief exceptions – and it seems our current times are no different. Australia has never really managed to realise its potential. As a nation it seems to be two different countries going in opposite directions – one into the future and the other into the past. It looks as though we’ll be mired in this latest stretch of mediocrity for some time and the only consolation will be creativity, gardening and humour’, Beyond a joke – surviving troubled times.
Holed up in the mountains
‘In a time of pandemic, if you can't
be on a small island off another island, then being holed up in the
mountains might just be the next best thing. While there are some daily
things I miss - coffee sitting down in cafes, a quite drink or meal out –
in many ways life in lockdown is not all that different to how I lived
before. Perhaps I need to take a closer look at what I really miss’, Holed up in the mountains.
‘A few weeks back I returned from a two and a half week regional road trip through Victoria to Adelaide and Kangaroo Island. When we left, people were being encouraged to visit fire-ravaged regional centres to help boost local economies. By the time we were on the way back everyone was being urged to stay home to help reduce the spread of pestilence. We had heard about hoarding and food shortages and we had seen the empty shelves, usually filled with toilet paper, everywhere we passed. As we headed home, I pondered exactly how long we could survive on what was already in our pantry – how many meals we were already sitting on as a result of routine shopping before that time of hoarding and excess,’ Raiding the pantry
Noise-cancelling the modern world
Australia - 7-day weather forecast
‘A distraction from the heat, fire, and smoke that have become the new normal in Australia, Internet memes track the ongoing failure of our mediocre political masters. After a Christmas of bushfires, everything is black, particularly the humour’, Australia - 7-day weather forecast.
Feast of Stephen revisited
‘As Christmas seems to be speeding towards us once again – with all the hope it holds out for the survival of the embattled retail sector, it got me thinking. In ‘Good King Wencelaus’, that carol from my distant childhood, there is an intriguing line, ‘good King Wencelaus looked out, on the Feast of Stephen’. I thought, what is this feast, which happens to bear my name? When exactly is it? Well…it is Boxing Day. Now I do realise it, I am determined to celebrate it in the style it deserves’, Feast of Stephen.
Adjusting to reality #1 – peaks, troughs and snouts
‘It seems government allows just enough time to forget what it has done before it begins to repeat it. It would be easy to go along with popular prejudice and believe that the private sector is more efficient than the public sector. Unfortunately both are efficient and also hopeless in their own way. At least we get to vote about the broad outline of what the public sector does – and laugh at it. With the private sector, all we get is to laugh at it. Or cry’, Adjusting to reality #1 – peaks, troughs and snouts.
Internet memes – swirling around the virtual universe
‘Internet memes seem to appear and disappear on the web, digital visitors swirling around the virtual universe. Where they come from or who created them is hard to tell. There are no secrets or possessions on the Internet. Seeing some of these memes got me thinking. I thought perhaps I could produce my own memes and have some fun. Perhaps it’s the new future for the arts – social media postcards – but with humour and creativity’, Internet memes – swirling around the virtual universe.
Bring back the Romans
Wide brown landing
‘Some days you realise suddenly that Canberra was deliberately located in the mountains. Perhaps it was fear of Russian invasion - imperial rather than communist. Perhaps it was to avoid overlap with the two warring imperial powers of the time - NSW and Victoria. Whatever the reason, Canberra sits well up on the top of Australia, on the long road up to the Snowy Mountains, where Australia finally reaches its peak. I've made two unsuccessful attempts to see the National Arboretum, finding the gates locked and no way in. Yesterday on a cold Canberra day I finally found it open, thanks to Canberra's annual festival of flowers, Floriade. I'd finally made a successful landing at the Arboretum. I was very impressed’, Wide brown landing.
Cures for the common cold
'Even in the heart of the modern world, down in the deep streets of contemporary urban life, folk medicine is still strong. Have you noticed when you mention you have a cold, how everyone within listening distance starts to list off the various fool-proof remedies which are certain to cure you, or at the very least make you feel human again', Cures for the common cold.
Articles in the series ‘The island to the North’
The island to the North – the islands to the North East
‘The awkward relationship between Tasmania and the island to the North is not the only clumsy relationship between islands in this part of the world. The history of the ties between the island to the North and the islands of the Pacific is even more troubled’, The island to the North – the islands to the North East.
The island to the North – turning the map upside down
‘Our geography teacher would turn the map upside down to make the point that we were conditioned to see Asia above Australia, implying that gravity was a factor in human migration patterns and to illustrate the Australian fear of the Yellow Peril, ready to pour down from Asia and inundate the almost empty island to the South’, The island to the North – turning the map upside down.
The island to the North – disappearing worlds
'Islands are easily overlooked – Tasmania is an island that periodically disappears off maps, sometimes there, sometimes not, at the edge of consciousness, at the end of space.' The island to the North – disappearing worlds
The island to the North – a nearby foreign country
‘Sitting by a roaring fire in a wintry pub in Tarraleah I found Tasmanians liked to call Australia "the island to the North". We are neighbours but sometimes I wonder if I am behind enemy lines’, The island to the North – a nearby foreign country.
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