Heavenly Beverley : Kate's Coronavirus Chronicles

So far this year, every month has been utterly extraordinary. January was included in the worst bushfire season that has ever been. As the month wore on, tiny whispers started being broadcast from China, about a weird, very contagious and deadly pneumonia. No worries, we all thought. That's in China...Except the disease was already entering Australia by stealth.

February saw the easing of drought conditions, but unfortunately only for some. Heavy rainfall and flooding brought an unusual degree of relief and scenes of burnt forests exploding with green foliage were just wonderful after months of the fires. Coronavirus began causing ripples of concern as the illness breached China's borders and spilled into other countries, including Australia. Iran's and Italy's outbreaks were of particular concern as the experts were scrambling to explain the rapid transmission through these regions. By the end of February, there were still less than thirty cases inside Australia, most of them returning with visitors from China and Iran.

March brought the explosion of COVID 19 worldwide. Governments everywhere were creating policy on the run. Some disastrous mistakes caused even more rapid spread. Think of the "Ruby Princess"...Stories out of Italy and Spain were reporting the unthinkable - doctors having to decide who would live or not, given the torrent of patients overwhelming their health systems.

Over a timeframe of just a few weeks, we have started living under more and more rigid directives. We closed the Gallery on 8 March, having just enjoyed a wonderful Sundowner at the end of February. Michael gradually altered his behaviour; firstly by maintaining "social distancing", moving to avoid all unnecessary contact, then to see friends only in our courtyard, onward to complete self-isolation. He will still occasionally see one of our buddies, as long as they are at one end of the courtyard and he is at the other.

He has been surprisingly comfortable with this change; he has been freed from any responsibilities outside our home and his workshop. As a result, one of the gates to our courtyard has been restored and installed and the other gate is well underway. Next job on his agenda is tackling his workshop. There are some corners within his Man Cave that haven't seen the light of day in over three years. Plus, the fence needs some serious reinforcing before it falls over due to the weight of metal leaning against it. Methinks that all this fixing, sorting and organisation could keep Michael busy for a considerable period, which is just as well.

After my initial panic, I have settled into a daily routine that feels oddly comforting. Spring cleaning has hit me six months early. So far, I have dusted all our living room shelves and ornaments, cleaned and rejigged our desks, washed all the Venetians(!) and wiped down the Bar and all our glasses. Next on my list is the dusty curtain rail in our bedroom, followed by a thorough clean-out of the kitchen cupboards and drawers. I might even attack our linen cupboard...

And although I can't muster much enthusiasm for the ironing pile, I really must explore its murky depths. I accidentally bought yet another bottle of distilled water, bring the grand total to over six litres...I can feel the iron nudging me into action. Today's job?

We launched forward to Northam yesterday afternoon for necessary shopping, scriptwriting and flu jab stabbing. Michael, gleefully at the wheel of the car, had his first trip away in over three weeks. Armed with our masks and disposable gloves, this was a rather surreal experience. Vet nurse Renee and I exchanged payment over the phone for dog logs and kibble, then she deposited the items in a bag well away from the vet hospital's entry. I then retrieved them. I felt like we had entered the demilitarised zone...

I ran the gauntlet at Woolies, wearing my mask and gloves, leaving a clear distance between me and other shoppers, all whilst negotiating item shortages in one aisle and a bountiful Easter egg display in the next. The shopping took longer than anticipated and then I was required to pack my own items. This was a moment when I vowed I would never take the checkout operators for granted again. Packing groceries is a skill I don't have...And wearing the mask even for an hour was hard going. I am in awe of Michael - he used to wear a mask for up to twelve hours on a job.

Onward to the quack. We sat outside, both masked. One at a time, fabulous practice nurse Janice delivered our fluvax injections. At least we can breathe easier about catching the seasonal winter influenza. We then trooped into Richard's room for Michael's scriptwriting and a general discussion about COVID 19. If the outbreak overloads the hospital system, would Michael get an ICU bed? Not a chance. And even if he did manage to nab one, his odds at beating the virus are probably not in his favour.

A quick sojourn into Coles to grab the last sugar packet, along with Michael's fave deodorant. No gloves or hand sanitiser. We commiserated with an icecream each as we fled the suburbs of Northam and headed for the hills.

Only after I unpacked the shopping did I discover we'd been charged for the pate pods not once, but three times. The refund will have to wait until my next expedition back to Northam...

Stay tuned!