Day 6- Connection and Disconnection

Sunshine at last. A friendly policeman looks for finger prints but says the burglar used gloves. I go for a ride up Westermoreland Hill. I breathe easier than yesterday but it's still a slog. At the top there's a woman talking to the driver of a car. She's got a paper in her hand and I wonder if she's a vigilante. I was going to turn around anyway. Don't want to burst her bubble.
Kahu messages questions about making courgette slice from Arkansas. Funny, I've got courgettes in the fridge and am planning to make it tonight too.
I do some gardening at the house which is not yet a home. The ground is damp and weeds pull easily. I suck in the pungent smell of wet soil. Weeding, long put off, is enjoyable. Bulbs are beginning to sprout and I replant those I disturb.  My garden became my focus once I knew the house was going to be demolished. Even more so as the house fell to pieces while I clambered over hurdles to get to the rebuild. Back in spring 2017, after a particularly stressful day with my Year 11's, and some residual anger from the whole earthquake debacle, I grabbed my garden fork, stabbed it under shrubs and clumps, and started transplanting. Anger and frustration fuel to save plants for the new garden so far in the future I couldn't picture it. As it turned out, the design took over a year and I had plenty of time to move or give away plants worth saving. In uncertain times the agency over my garden meant it became the part of my property I was most connected to.
On the drive home, I drop into Freshchoice Merivale. A few more cars today but it's quiet and everyone keeps a respectful distance. No queues and fully stocked shelves. I purchase a bottle of vanilla essence so Chris's mum can keep going with her baking.
Back home Chris gets out the gin and I get out the grater. Courgette slice would be impossible to make without both.
Bookclub is a Zoom meet. I realise how enjoyable our discussions are and how I value the company and contributions of such a vibrant group of diverse women. Tonight's focus is poetry- concise, sharp, distilled language. I had intended to find a poem written by Tolstoy but having not got round to it, read a quote from War and Peace. Prince Andrey the night before the Battle of Borodino, musing on why people go to war, " And what is war...what is the moral basis of a military society? The aim of war is murder...the moral basis of the military class is the curtailment of freedom." Later in the passage, "All heads of state except the Chinese wear military uniforms, and the biggest rewards go to the man who has killed the most people." Tolstoy began writing War and Peace in 1863, having led men as an artillery officer, under fire in the Crimean War, 1854-6. His observations in War and Peace undermine the false glamour of warfare. Back to the future and one of the things I've noticed lately is the quietening down of news reports of homicides, bombings proxy wars in other parts of the world. I'm wondering how much is still going on. In the meantime, in front of the screen at the Zoom meeting, I'm struck by how important it is to maintain social connection. I'm also aware that Kahu is thousands of miles away, and my 99 9/12 father may as well be. If he passed away, I wouldn't be able to go to his funeral. Connection in a 2020's pandemic, problematic.

Wardrobe doors

Interior door

Courgette slice