I didn't reckon on being this  lonely.  Lonely as opposed to alone.  Being alone is a delightful state of being.  Yesterday morning I was alone.  Took the Skoda in for a service, walked across town and across the river to have a coffee at the Riverview.  I had a book, the river, nesting mynah birds and water dragons for company.  I was alone at a table on the verandah and perfectly happy.  I read a little, watched the river and river life for a little, read some more.  An enjoyable hour.

Picked up Richard to get the second car serviced.  We walked to the RSL (air conditioning a necessity) for lunch.  Watched Richard struggle with his meal, tried to help him to use the knife without interfering too much.  Couldn't read the book (rude), made small talk (lots of white cars, aren't there, how's the fish, let's get this napkin in your lap), watched traffic and felt lonely. 

I'm not the best conversationalist but there are so many things of interest to discuss yet there is no one to discuss them with.  I see the women on Thursdays, the Writer's Group for 2 hours on a Friday and Nick the guitar teacher every second Wednesday.  Sometimes I run into people while walking - or talk to the guys at the feed store or the women at the checkout - but that's just chitchat.  I miss the companionship of conversation. 

Am a bit chary about complaining as what do I have to complain about in the grand scheme of things when I have a roof, food, safety, interests, etc.  On the other hand, it wouldn't be honest to pretend everything is peachy and I am miss pollyanna perfectly happy.  I'm not. 

Being relieved and grateful for the hour or so when he takes a nap - I wish it was otherwise.  Being aggrieved and out of sorts when there is a long spate of essential micromanagment because his memory fails him and he's lost his bearings.  And the fight to remain patient and loving.   How difficult that can be and I often fail, hearing the impatience in my voice. 

Even small talk becomes more difficult as Parky robs him of his ability to speak much above a whisper and the dexterity toform words clearly.  Then of course dementia steals his vocabulary as well as his memory.

It's a shit deal for anyone.   Richard doesn't deserve this - and whingy me, neither do I.

Hard to settle to anything.  NSW and southern Queensland are on fire.  Smoke haze so thick Mt. Warning, Uki and The Sisters are just eerie shadows in the gloom.  Over 100 homes lost, 3 people dead, more injured.  The nearest fire is at Nightcap Mountain National Park - so not near but it was in conditions exactly like this the fire at Terragon/Clarrie Hall Dam/Palmers Road burnt the mountain we can see from our deck - so as the crow - or embers - fly, not far.  And, as the conditions are just the same and will worsen tomorrow, I worry.  Useless I know.  Not helpful.  Can't discern 'new' smoke in the air as it's all smoke.  Lots of helicopter traffic to-ing and fro-ing. 

It's a tinderbox.  Our rainforest is so dry, trees are dying from lack of water.  Rainforest needs rain and lots of it.  We've had so little.  The ground crackles beneath my feet from bark and leaves.  The scrub turkeys dig and scratch and find not much - the grubs and earthworms have either died or dug deeper.  Have a bucket of water out for wallabies, turkeys and big birds like currawongs and a smaller birdbath for the wee birds.  Saw the first bird use it today while making up the horse feed, a Leuwins Honeyeater.  Now that one has found it, others will too.  Putting out fruit leftovers for those interested.  Always gone in the morning, save for mango pitts and watermelon rind. 

Lay awake last night listing all the things I must take if we have to leave.  With 7 birds, 3 cats, 1 dog and us, it won't be easy.  At least we have the caddy which should hold everyone.  Can't trust Richard to drive anymore although in an emergency maybe it's better to have a try.  The cages for the birds, the cat carriers, the food, the computer tower and guitar, meds, the red case with important papers and some underclothes and toiletries - guess that would be enough.  No art materials, no books, no journals.  We have one road out of here and as the house is  surrounded by bush and we're on the side of a hill, we wouldn't have a chance.  Actually, if it was just me and the animals and Richard were safe, I'd have a go.  There's a cleared space in front and behind.  There's ample water in the fire tank (unlike the house water tanks which are getting perilously low) so if I could access the fire tank water with multiple hoses, block the gutters (which I fortunately cleared out a month or so ago) and soaked everything - perhaps the house could be saved.  It's the ember storm - travelling up to 12km - from the main fire which is the danger. 

But of course, I wouldn't take the chance.  One woman has already died trying to save her house.  The other 2 were caught in their car.  What a dreadful way to go.  Richard and the animals need me so the responsibility to them is greater than my responsibility to the house. 

Ack.  To even be thinking these things.  Like I'm going to attract a bushfire by thinking of it all the time.  One attracts what one fears. 

But I feel so helpless.  Can't save the animals being burnt alive, can't feed the ones that are starving, can't make it rain.  Sure there is a lesson in here somewhere.    Like don't stress about what I can't control?  Something like that I suppose.  Hope next time I write here it's to complain about all the damn rain and the mold and high humidity and why I always have to wear gum boots coz it's so wet.