The Joys Of Isolation

Australians are doing a tremendous job self isolating and social distancing. We're now one of the leading countries heading in the right direction, minimising the Corona virus spread.

We're especially fortunate in our beautiful South Gippsland region, away from the city hot spots, but we still have a way to go.

Let's not loosen the chains just yet …

I can't even remember how many weeks of isolation have now passed. It's probably a good thing I'm losing count. I would be feeling the heat a lot more if I were.

Life is starting to become a little unsettling in our household. So much so, I turned to Mr. Google for support today, thinking surely I'll find some useful, inspiring, tips to help carry us through the remainder of this challenging time.

The first port of google call was a definition by Wikipedia, which defines cabin fever referring to:

'the distressing, claustrophobic irritability or restlessness experienced when a person, or group, is stuck in an isolated location or confined quarters for an extended period of time. A person may be referred to as 'stir crazy', derived from the use of 'stir' to mean prison.'

That sounded a little over dramatic, but maybe bordering a touch on our developing home frustrations.

According to Google, feeling anxious, fearful, restless, worried, bored or lonely are completely normal responses to this stressful pandemic situation.

Those words gave me comfort, although thankfully I've not been feeling all of the listed emotions.

Reading on, the initial few helpful tips to combat isolation were to concentrate only on each day, or even each hour, at a time and to eat well, keep hydrated, rest and exercise.

That resonated with me, yet for quite some time our days at home have continued to roll into one. Isolation has thrown our routines right out the window.

We eat whenever we (think we), feel hungry and often in between just because it tastes good.

If I decide to indulge in a baking marathon, depending if I can get my hands on some flour, we presently eat all the goodies ourselves, as opposed to sharing with friends, family or neighbors.

Mind you, as of today, this behaviour stops. If I hear hubby complaining once more how much weight he is piling on, while devouring a delicious sweet, I'm going to lose the plot!

Besides, I too would still like to fit through our doorway once we're free to roam.

We drink plenty of water, but somewhere along the line 'happy hour' occasionally creeps in a little earlier than usual. We have no concept of time, so it makes no difference.

It's enjoyable to sit and talk, while sipping a wine or two, admiring our stunning view.

The Cab Sauv seems to add just that little bit more color to our new normality. We're thankfully not having to drive anywhere.

Our sleep patterns are all over the shop. Resting doesn't exist in our home anymore, except for our dozing felines, who adore having their humans home.

If I intend to rest, curling up on the couch with a good book, my fluff balls will cuddle up too and we all immediately fall asleep, hence my increasing nightly insomnia. 

As for exercise, I attempt to implement yoga poses into my day, but it's a continuous, up hill battle. My pets think I'm playing and dart and weave amusingly under and around my twisted body making yoga near impossible.

At least I can nick out for a short, brisk walk to clear my head and get my blood pumping every now and then.

Another tip according to Google was to meditate or to find a quiet spot to mindfully and deeply breathe, uninterrupted from any chaos. I tried this and eventually succumbed to the only private room in our house - the toilet.

My needy fluff balls impatiently circled at the door, whining, while hubby's echoing voice called out 'What’s for lunch?'

All I could do was shake my head in defeat.

This happened to wipe out another piece of google advice being, 'Look for the beauty within your family members'.

I love them dearly, but they're driving me mad!

The next hint was to keep in regular contact with close family and friends via social media. Of course that's what everyone has predominantly turned to, but I find it's a battle.

So many of us are now constantly on the internet, especially for work, I've noticed our internet service at home has immensely slowed, often to the point where I'm close to throwing my laptop over the edge of the verandah.

Face time is awkward. The conversation dialogue is delayed, while the pictures jump around distorting the endearing faces I'm attempting to speak with. Often the calls just simply cut out.

I miss my friends and family terribly and look forward to personally giving them all warm, heartfelt hugs, once we're again free to mingle.

That's my gold at the end of this dull, heavy Corona rainbow.

If I'm honest, I have an abundance of never-ending farm work waiting for my attention. I also have a list of significant jobs around the house I'm longing to tick off.

Although I'm usually conscientious, I feel guilty lacking my usual enthusiasm. I find this bizarre! Now is the perfect time to get stuck into my pending list.

I'm grateful I'm at least still managing to complete the necessary, daily tasks and to nurture my little family, whom I cherish when I don't want to occasionally (gently) slap them during this trying time!

However, Google suggests to indulge in more activities we love, such as baking, gardening, music, painting or writing etc.

My guilty conscience eased somewhat as I ecstatically read this. I love to lose myself in words during writing spurts.

That's where time passes too quickly and is never enough of.

The hours slip by unnoticed as I pen my thoughts on paper, forming logical order and rightful perspectives. The world seems to make sense once more, but frustratingly my lower back suffers from prolonged sitting.

Hubby also finds it amusing to purposely sneak up and scare the crap out of me as I'm deep in thought. That's when I sternly suggest he go play in his man cave for an hour or three!

Loud noises disturb me too, such as the television volume up high, especially during violent action movies, which are frequently offered during evening programs.

Don't we have enough brutality and bloodshed in the world without consciously digesting unauthentic story lines?

In hindsight, Google was helpful with thought-provoking advice, but what I've personally discovered to combat isolation is to reassure myself often it is only temporary.

Each morning I wake, I affirm we are another day closer to our global goal.

Before I get out of bed to answer the hungry animal cries, I consciously list in my mind many things I appreciate and am grateful for.

I know how fortunate I am compared to so many people struggling to keep afloat within Australia and worldwide.

I try and laugh each day, which lifts my mood, and use this time to reflect and recharge parts of me that desperately need nurturing.

I've also slowed down watching news reports on Covid-19. It just gets too much and tends to consume my thoughts. I stay updated, but avoid the repeated coverage.

This has immensely helped my emotional state.

I ask myself often 'Who do I want to be on the other side of this crisis?'

I'm sure there's a global and personal lesson to be learned from this wretched pandemic and it's wise for all of us to decipher and create a positive, revised, inner and outer world.

Apparently every black cloud has a silver lining. We just need to search for the inspiration and passionately run with it.

So who might you be at the end of this pandemic? 

Perhaps this is a significant question to ask yourself too?

Hat Off To You, Maureen

You may have seen this gorgeous, 94 year old, Melbourne woman on the televised news not long ago, as a band of nurses formed a guard of honor and cheered as she left the Austin Hospital, wheeled out by her 69 year old son, John, her primary carer.

This uplifting story has gone viral around the globe and our little community in country Victoria is claiming Mrs Appleby as our own and are proud and in awe of her strength to defy all odds by defeating Covid-19.

Maureen is a great, great grandmother, related to many family members residing in Tarwin Lower and surrounds. One beloved niece, who thinks of Maureen as her inspiration, is Michelle Burggraaff of Tarwin Lower.

Michelle's mother, Greta, Maureen and their two brothers, Frank and Jack, shared a special connection, which filtered down through their families, warranting many enjoyable, meaningful gatherings. Sadly many loved ones have passed on since then, but Michelle and Maureen continue to share a loving bond.

Maureen resides with John in her family home in Rosanna. One night a few weeks ago, the same evening John started to feel unwell, Maureen had an unfortunate fall and was taken to North Park Private Hospital in Bundoora where it was confirmed she'd broken four ribs.

After a week, Maureen moved on to a rehabilitation centre in Ivanhoe. During her third night there, she also began to feel unwell and was transferred to The Austin Hospital. After vigorous testing, she was diagnosed with the dreaded Covid-19 virus.

In the meantime John also tested positive for the virus and after a couple of isolated days at home, he too was admitted to The Austin, where he and Maureen shared a room during his second night of stay.

Thankfully, John recovered quickly and was discharged after two days, while Maureen was kept for five days due to her injuries.

Both are now in good spirits at home, although Maureen is weary of all the media attention she's attracting. However, she's happy to comply knowing the public appreciates her uplifting story during such challenging times.

This lovely lady is described as deserving, caring and honorable with a wonderful sense of humor. She's extremely accommodating and family orientated, as well as a staunch Carlton Football Club supporter, as her father, Frank Martin, was a Carlton premiership player and proudly wore the number 25.

Well done Maureen, great news!

                                                                (Credit 7 News)

One Of Those Crazy Days ...

Have you ever had one of those days begin by mistakenly placing the margarine tub in the pantry and the coffee tin in the fridge because your thoughts were already way ahead of you planning your day?

Well, that's how my day started today ... but it got much worse!

Venturing out after breakfast (not having realised my mistake), the first job on my agenda was to visit our local petrol station to purchase diesel. The tractor was thirsty and hubby would be raring to use it when he returned home late in the afternoon.

As always, I bumped into lovely, familiar faces in town and struck up a friendly conversation with an endearing, retired farmer I hadn't seen in a long while (social distancing rule applied of course).

He too was buying fuel and we enjoyed a good, old yarn, laughing, teasing and joking around as I proceeded to fill my diesel container with 'unleaded petrol'!

“CRAP!“

Off home I drove again to re-enact my steps, this time without loitering and choosing the correct fuel.

“That was a waste of an hour,” I mumbled frustratingly under my breath.

Next on my list was to spray an eyesore of annoying, paddock thistles, which had started to rear their ugly heads. I'd planned to begin this job much earlier while it was calm. By the time I filled my spray bottle and walked into a paddock neighboring the road, a light breeze was just beginning to gently blow.

It was a beautiful, warm, sunny morning with brilliant blue skies. Perfect for this job and I was happy to finally get stuck into it. Around me a symphony of birds were cheerfully singing, while the amused kookaburras laughed spasmodically as back- up vocalists.

Adorably, our stunning, earth - colored cattle were curiously supervising my every move from a distance as I regularly filled my spray bottle and strolled around among their cuisine.

After a while my hands started to uncomfortably sweat inside my rubber gloves and as the temperature rose, the infamous South Gippsland bush flies slowly, but surely drove me mad. I was sure they'd made a pact to see who could bring me to the brink of insanity first! Often I frustratingly attempted to whack them, but accidentally smacked myself in the head instead.

Next thing I knew, while I was happily away with the fairies daydreaming, I felt something dart down the back of my singlet top piercingly stinging my shoulder blade!

“#$@&%*!,” I shrieked!

In an instant the spray bottle and gloves flew in all directions as I attempted to bash my back to comatose the stinging beast. That didn't do much good as the wretched intruder continued its merciless attack.

Off came the singlet top, which I again used to hurriedly slap my back, but still to no avail. By this stage I was dancing around the paddock looking like a dimwit trying to outrun myself, while making all sorts of strange, high pitched noises.

This of course, spooked the cattle, who were now completely dumbfounded and running around the paddock too, uncertain as to what their human was actually trying to achieve.

... and then, horrified, I suddenly noticed a distant neighbor driving very slowly, crawling in fact, past our farm, probably wondering what the hell was going on at the Hullick hillbilly residence!

I immediately dived for my singlet top, which must have grown legs somewhere along the line, and fumbled it back on - back to front. Didn't matter. I quickly acted like all was fine.

“No problem here,” I mimed as I gave him a fleeting, neighborly wave.

“Oh Lord, shoot me now,” I thought, “Surely that didn't just happen?”

Sun kissed and depleted, I made my way back inside my safe haven to consume a cup of much needed caffeine, which I thoroughly appreciated once I finally discovered the coffee tin hiding in the fridge!

Recounting today I'm still not sure what's worse. A swollen upper back caused by an anonymous pest, which continues to irritatingly itch, or the lingering embarrassment of the absurd, comical situation I unwillingly found myself in.

Moral of this story?

Some days it's best just to stay in bed ...

My Soul-Sister

Dearest Jude,

I am gifting you this letter because I want you to truly understand you mean the world to me.

Please read these honest, heartfelt words as many times as you need, until they carve themselves like stone deep within your core.

Meeting Anthony was one of my most significant life events. Not only did I find my husband, but I gained you as my sister-in-law.

Growing up, each along side brothers, we yearned the company of a sister. We became related through marriage, but more relevantly, we became soul-sisters, supporting and cherishing each other through thick and thin over the past twenty years.

We've shared endless belly laughs until it hurt to breathe. We've shed painful tears when hope was compromised, and we've kept hilarious, embarrassing secrets we promised we'd take to our graves.

The flames of mutual love, trust and respect we carry are unique and precious.

Jude, I adore you.

Watching you painfully struggle these last six years as your health declined, has been tremendously heartbreaking.

I've felt and continue to feel so powerless ... useless.

I vow I will be your comforting, physical and emotional brace until your last breath is drawn.

You are not, nor will you be, alone.

I will hold your petite hand, wash your beautiful face and stroke your stunning hair as I walk down memory lane with you, proudly reliving all your amazing legacies, which you mostly, humbly swept under the carpet.

This will take a long while ...

You have touched all those who have crossed your path with love,  integrity, compassion and wit.

But your glowing, emanating smile has melted even the reserved or apathetic passerby.

Jude, I swear, if my love for you could save you, you would live forever.

I'm so humbled to call myself your sister-in-law, although our connection transcends all space and time and cannot be labelled by mere mortal words.

Thank you for being you.

Thank you for choosing me.

I love you ...❤️


In honour of Judy Hullick

18th March, 1966 - 27th November 2019

What's Going On?!

What the hell is wrong with me lately?!

I have a list of pending jobs to attack an arm's length long, but  no enthusiasm.

I fluff around dragging my sorry backside, as if it weighes a tonne,  barely completeing my necessary, farm chores.

What's going on?!

I'm usually like a bull at a gate, planning my days to overflow with productivity. I'm known as the type of person who 'Doesn't put off until tomorrow what I can do today, because I never know what tomorrow brings'.

It seems that phrase has gone straight down the gurgler ...

So why am I feeling so lethargic and unenthused presently? Is it because I am emotionally and physically exhausted?

I don't believe so.

Is it because I am subconsciously sensing the global uneasiness, anxiety and devastation this unforeseen Corona virus is provoking?

This could definitely be the case. I tend to pick up on energies easily.

Is it because I feel somewhat incarcerated within my five star prison cell?

I shouldn't be, as I'm fortunate to enjoy nearly 200, lushious acres of backyard.

Is it because social distancing and self isolation is causing  loneliness? Do I quite simply miss my friends?

Yes, of course I do.

Do I long for the freedom to shop, visit or even travel abroad to any location I wish?

 Well yes.

My planned reunion with family residing overseas in my happy place, is now postponed, thanks to this wrethched pandemic.

That certainly deflates me.

Maybe I am not pulling my finger out because I know for a fact, no one will be visiting our farm in the near future?

Mind you, I hope that's not the case! I'm not one to inspire the neighbors. I work to impress myself and my husband; for the upkeep and improvement of our property.

Are my middle-aged hormones throwing a party without warning or inviting me?

That could very well be true.                 

I don't know exactly why I'm so blasé, but I've decided, if I can, to go with the flow. Fighting my unpleasant feelings causes tremendous frustratration and annoyance. Self criticism is certainly not a helpful tool for my mental state. Continuing to beat myself up emotionally will only worsen the situation.

I'm often reminded to be more gentle with myself ... I should take heed.

I'm sure this too will pass.

Time for a cuppa 😊.

Fuck Off, Corona!

I don't know about you, but this pandemic messes with my emotions if I allow myself to go there.

I hastily visited our local, little country town this morning to collect our mail and buy a Sunday paper.

Usually my daily shop visit is my much-loved, social fix. Many of the supermarket employees and local clientele are dear friends, whom I look forward to warmly greeting each day. Lately the experience has become somber and heart-wrenching.

Because together,
But separately,
But together,
We are strong and are striving to eradicate this shitful virus.

We are all protecting each other by washing and sanitising our hands, some wearing masks and/or gloves, and isolating or adhering to the social distancing rule.

Great job, well done. We should all treat ourselves as infected to take the highest precautions possible. It's absolutely necessary. However, it's emotionally challenging to meet friends I haven't seen in a while.

Spontaneously I used to lunge in for the big bear squeeze, as I'm such a hugger!

Not anymore.

I love seeing familar faces in the local stores and neighbouring cafes. We usually mingle within our personal spaces, we catch up on previous day events, we support each other - all in a matter of precious minutes.

Now we re-enact these moments hurriedly from afar and although we continue to communicate, it's all about a quick check-in to make sure we're coping with this new normality.

I miss you.

Presently everyone wears an imaginary, emanating armor . There are walls between us like never before. For me, psychologically the distance feels far greater than the physical.

We are each an island.

As though we are each contaminated with God knows what. I especially sense this from strangers, and the way it makes me feel is not a place I like to dwell in.

On the other hand, this disturbing situation brings kindness to the forefront.

If I'm out walking and I happen to come across a fellow stroller (familiar or not), along the way, I will intentionally bid them a hearty greeting and wish them a lovely day.

Kindness doesn't hurt. It's free and brings a smile to my face, as well as the recipient's. We're all feeling the pinch and appreciate a comforting, friendly word, even from across the road.

And thank goodness for social media.

I predominantly love keeping in contact with overseas family and friends, especially during this fragile, unforeseeable time.

I enjoy playing around and joking with my Facebook friends too, but now that technology has become the main means of communication, it's not that funny anymore. It's serious and I appreciate and value it one million times more.

I am also in awe of the creativity people are coming up with during their isolation. Some are cooking up a storm, some are finding amazing, meaningful ways to celebrate special occasions. Some are indulging in their passions or teaching themselves new skills, and some are maybe drinking a gin & tonic too many while they write  (that would be me).

A gorgeous ED nurse I love and respect told me she feels like an extra in a crappy, disaster movie and hasn't been told the script.

That pretty much sums it up!

I read a quote lately too that sat well with me. It went something like this:

'Maybe the Universe has sent us all to our rooms to have a think about life for a while.'

Maybe it has!

Let's hope and pray our undesirable, global separateness annihilates this despicable Corona virus so we can stride into a 'revised, healthy, environmentally friendly, kinder world' normality.

My comforting Little Mate ...

Today was the first time in a while I actually felt I achieved something by spending the whole day at home on the farm. The last seven months are a blur of diverse, frenzied, family issues and logistics I altruistically, clumsily fumbled my way through.

Consequently my own life agenda piled up and fell by the wayside, waiting impatiently for my attention.

Now at the end of my working day, I'm worn out, bruised and smelly with bits of leaves and twigs protruding from my tied up hair. Burst blisters are hurting my tired hands, but nevertheless, it feels good! I'm enjoying the sense of achievement.

This was once my norm, especially during the early years of our country/sea change. I'd be in solitude most days with beautiful, earth-colored, multicultural cattle curiously supervising my work, while following me around the farm.

During that tranquil time I absorbed the serenity of nature like a sponge. It was grounding and put everything I valued into it's rightful perspective. It also highlighted elements of my life where I chose to waste my energy. During the silence of the days I learned to decipher that which I needed to let go.

Today seemed no different. Welcomed hours of solitude to grit my teeth into pending work, embraced by fresh air and the scent of our native land.

However, today 'was' different.

It felt different.

Knowing the whole world was presently self-isolating as best it could, in this somewhat surreal, challenging time, felt eerie. I noticed even the customary symphonic voice of nature was quieter than usual.

Not only was I on my own, but I literally felt 'alone' for the first time since I can remember. I seemed the only human alive.

A little unsettled, I commenced my last project for the afternoon of sawing back a high, thick bush line. I knew I wouldn't finish, but if I knocked over a decent chunk before nightfall, I'd feel content.

I'd cut a length of about ten metres when I reached the first Gum tree. We have two, quite sparse gums nestled among the bushy windbreak. Looking up, there within the rugged flora, I noticed a fluffy round, grey and white ball.

Curiously gazing more closely, I saw sharp, strong claws tightly gripping a branch and I realised, much to my delight, the fluffy ball was the backside of a koala. He was sound asleep, hugging the limb and completely undisturbed by my noise; content in deep slumber.

The scene made me smile.

I wasn't alone at all!

Who was I kidding?

I began to speak to my little friend and apologized for the racket my saw was creating, not to mention the branches pounding to the ground.

But he didn't mind. In fact, he ignored my voice and seemed completely oblivious to my presence.

I watched him gently swaying on his flimsy branch among the busyness of the bush, unperturbed by his surroundings, comfortable and at peace.

I too felt a sense of calm wash over me. This little guy wasn't worried about the effect the Corona virus could bestow upon the world. He lived mindfully in the moment, appreciating the joy his experience gifted.

I giggled to myself. He was role-modelling an excellent example of self isolation though!

I continued to admire the sleeping koala for a while and insightful thoughts, maybe messages, came to mind. My new friend seemed to dissolve all my feelings of uneasiness.

Relax, breathe and go with the flow, while doing the best I can to support the decrease of this viral contagion.

Rest. Allow for quality sleep to support my immune system.

Add more greens to my diet toward optimal health and vitality.

Don't overthink crazy thoughts. Keep my emotions contained or they'll screw with my head.

But most importantly I sensed this gorgeous ball of fluff let me know I was 'never' alone, and all is well ... and will remain so.