We’ve now spent more than $100 on sleeping beds and baskets for Nina and she won’t use any of them. There will be no more.

We bought gym shoes this week and for now she now sleeps in a cardboard shoe box by the front door. She loves it even though it’s not her size. I’m inclined to tell her in a fit of pique that her bum looks big in it but have held off so far.

During the day she sleeps in an upsidedown sun hat on the wooden floor, surrounded by empty cat beds.

The more coincidental the bed the better, it seems.

I’d throttle her if she wasn’t so cute and inscrutable. She’s our first ‘Cat’, I think. She’s a cliched cartoon cat off the internet and we’ve never had one of those. We’re merely her humans.

It’s annoying, but look into those green eyes and you’re hypnotised.

While we were sleeping through lockdown other changes happened that I’ve only noticed now I’ve gone out blinking into the sunlight. I went to post a card welcoming a new great niece and when I got around the corner the postbox was gone.

For a split second I wondered if I was in the wrong street. It was worse than that. I was in the wrong world.

They already closed the post office a couple of years ago after 150 years of local service.

The last bank on Glebe Point Road is suddenly gone too. Ordinarily I’d be glad to see banks going out of business but I’m sure that’s not what’s happening here. It’s customers going out of business and old people being left for dead. ‘Your call is important to us and one of our happiness engineers will be with you as soon as possible. Please hold.’

I never used that bank but I know many did. People like my dad, and they are now more marginalised.

To ‘improve our service to you’ the bus we caught to Coogee will also be gone soon. Goodbye beach. Under COVID cover they’ve decided not enough people use certain routes and so they’ll be reduced or cancelled to ‘better reflect’ customer demand.

Who writes this shit? Who does this bastardry?

The NSW government privatised our inner west busses a while back to ‘improve our service’ and looky looky. The service is worse. Who could have guessed that would happen, with the genius of the private sector at our disposal?

I can feel OLD MAN SHOUTS AT CLOUDS gifs queueing up in response to my despair.

Go for it, I suppose. Be part of the problem.


Continue to join in your community. Share. Resist. Make kindness matter and make it a movement. Grow a meadow or find your own way of maintaining peace. Own the world even as we marvel at its degradation.

Drinking also helps, I find, in hypnotised moderation of course. Or even catastrophic excess.


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