The Giant Weta Fungus

Unbelievable, the power and properties of fungi in our world. A weta with a fatal fungal invasion. Ah me. At the end of the week I'm still itchy. I'm struck by what I'm learning and how vulnerable we mortals are in spite of 21st century medicine. The weta gets eaten from the inside out. I'm not sure I'm up for that. 

Friday night is the dance assessment showcase, Infinity, and I volunteer so I can see it. The work by the kids is amazing and I wonder how one teacher can produce and direct all this. I'm itchy but allay my fears with the thought that I've got another course of anti-fungal to get rid of this pest. But it's not fun.

On Saturday I organise a trailer from Phil, the caretaker, to collect another load of top soil. There's a strong nor wester and I drive carefully. The garden thanks me. Later, I collect Amana and Bertie and we drive in circles till we find the Two Thumbs brewery where Red Weekend, a band of PHS boys are rockin their music. I've heard them in assembly and loved their energy. Tonight their grandmas, grandads, parents, siblings and mates are rocking and head banging. As well as a couple of other teachers and my motley group of friends. The boys are fizzing and it spreads. 

Friends catch up with Anjie on Sunday and Nicki at her nearly finished houses. Modern decor, totally different to mine, with a few finishing choices to go. Nicky asks for my ten cents worth. The kitchen finishes seem a bit flat but I keep my opinion to myself. It's too late now. I love her old iron pillars. Nicki's had a lot of builder, flooring, painting stuff up's and points out all the flaws. I remember seeing marks in my house but she has a lot.

At school I've got an e-mail of thanks from Sam, the Red Weekend, vocalist. A kid with talent and grace. Is he even a teenager? Lynette from Alex pops round during the week. She's up for the funeral of her friend, Heather, who died suddenly on the phone. Lynette's still in shock. Thursday drinks and I see an ex student in her music duo, Black and Gold. I taught her for a year and had no idea she was musical. One of those quiet, modest kids. End of week 9 and I'm that much closer to the holidays. Auckland still in Level 4.

Sept 30th update- the total number of cases in this outbreak is 1249 so far.

* Covid-19: Auckland boundary will remain even if move to level 2 goes ahead
* Covid-19: Locations of interest in Delta outbreak, September 30
* Covid-19: 19 new cases in Delta community outbreak, including student in upper Hauraki

It comes after Wednesday saw the highest number of new cases since September 2, with 45 cases reported.

Level 2 with Delta Restrictions

Life is Level 2 is a reprieve and we slowly get going, but it feels different. Slower, quieter,  more restrained. Listening to the radio it's a different world in our super city, Auckland, where they are still in Level 4. I would go up the wall but they have to see it through. There's a hilarious, Kiwi story, midweek about two gang associated members picked up by police cruising the back streets on the southern border separating Auckland from the Waikato. They have $100,000 cash in the car and a boot load of KFC. Going to celebrate a deal with their mates. KFC is such a Polynesian fast food thing. Cultural. Iconic Kiwi. Somehow this story gives me hope that life goes on regardless. 

The kids are more subdued but happy, as we all are, to circulate and do teen things with their mates. Better for everyone's mental health. There's a shortage of building supplies round the motu, islands, as so much comes from Auckland. I call in to Accent Lighting to ask whether they have heard anything about the lights I ordered from Italy back in May. They haven't. International shipping is all over the place and I don't expect miracles. They're the light fittings above my kitchen island. I can see, I can wait. 

The itchiness from the fungus retreats till Friday when it comes back on my neck and along my spine. Also, patches on my legs. I'm grateful I haven't got it all over like Kahu because it's even on his feet and his hands are bad. I change my clothes every day and do bucket loads of laundry. And encourage Kahu to put steroid cream on raw patches. We muddle along but this is a bit like head lice and Delta. You have to eliminate every last fungi, otherwise it will come back. Makes me sympathetic to people who can't access medicine today, and those in times past who couldn't. This would be vile to live with long term.

On Friday we have a restricted PPTA regional meeting to discuss annual conference papers. We only discuss constitutional change papers since conference, which is normally a two day highlight of the calendar where we get together with comrades from throughout the motu, is going to be a relatively short zoom meet this year. Essentials only. There are few at this meeting, symptomatic of the Covid slow down, it feels like we're wary and there's sense of waiting. For some, it's essentials only. But our national president, Melanie, is here, and we go out for a very tasty Maharaja dinner afterwards. 

With my new found freedom I go out hunting for old hooks to hang my old mirror on Saturday. Vintage Wonderland is a treasure trove of lovingly restored and reasonably priced old bits. Alistair, the owner, behind the counter, is the greatest treasure of all. I find hooks and can't resist a couple of old tins. And buy a uranium glass bowl from another forager, Allen, on Marketplace. He's got his collection of old stuff in his living area, including his old mum knitting on the sofa. Classic. The bowl is shaped like a cabbage and glows green under uv. Spectacular for the 1930's. Uranium, the world changing material. 

I drop in at Pete's and find Hana. She's earning some money while she studies and I realise the human connection of the build. We're friends. She poses with the picture and lets me take it home.  I tidy the house in preparation for a girls' get together. Old friends. All of us single with so many tales to tell and a sincere love of gossip. Appreciated after lock down. 

Sunday is Sharyn's last cup of coffee. We're both relieved and I take tape off doorways after she leaves. I point out Garry, the builder's, short comings to her project manager, Nigel, while we wait. A mumbled sense of incohesion. A bit like the house.

PPTA buddies, Bernie, Daniel and Melanie, national president

1. 
2. Vintage Wonderland

                                                             Blue haired Hana's back 

                                       The girls: Sharyn, Melanie, Bernie, Judith, Karen

                                                                           Sharyn exits

                                             The daffodil and the wedding cake tree

                                                                    Undoing the past

                                                                          The Square

Monday, 20th September

Auckland will end its five-week alert level 4 lockdown when it moves to level 3 for two weeks from 11.59 pm tomorrow night, with the rest of New Zealand to remain at level 2.

Prime Minister Jacinda Ardern announced Cabinet's decision shortly after 4pm, saying the Government remains committed to its "zero-tolerance for cases" approach and urging Kiwis to follow the rules.

One part of the Waikato, with three new cases, would temporarily move into a "bespoke" set of restrictions.

Level 2

 First week out of lock down and we're feeling buoyant. And glad we don't live in Auckland. It's drinks with the English department then drinks at Viv and Pete's. Then pot luck dinner at mine. I spend all day tidying up and organising food but learn the lesson when people arrive that I should have given more specific directions as to what to bring. I end up making a lot of the food for 20 people. 

Meanwhile the doctor tells me I've got a skin fungus infection. Caught from Kahu who's had it for a while and been short tempered. I don't know how he put up with it for so long. It's freakily uncomfortable. I feel cold from the inside. The pharmaceutical treatment the doctor prescribes is to put gel on my skin after a shower and let it dry. We also have to wash everything that's been against our skin in hot water....sheets, towels, clothes. Coats are tricky and I try biking to school without one, but it's a cold spring. So, we're in a washing cycle...go to bed, get up, shower off the Pevaryl, wash clothes, dose with tea tree oil to ease itchiness, hand out clothes, wash sheets and towels.... It's hard work but the alternative is worse. And there seems to be no end. Kahu kind of gets it but his teenage brain kind of doesn't. I go for a routine overdue blood test and wait ages in two metre spacing. 

The Saturday get together at my place turns into a party. Outrageous. We're out of lock down, just. It's good to catch up and we realise how limited life becomes without friends and outings. On Sunday I go for my first Pfizer Covid jab in a big barn out by the airport. Along with a stream of other Chichinians. Everyone has a mask and we're processed in a systemic flow. Feels like we're living 1984 in a dystopic world where life is reduced to survival by government intervention. My arm is a bit sore but otherwise I feel fine enough to tackle some left over wine. This medicine will give me a better outcome when Delta reaches the South Island and I contract it when I'm teaching in my poorly ventilated classroom. I'll survive. This bug will pickle in my blood.

The week goes. We're nearly back to normal. Gatherings are capped at 50. Spring is springing. We're not in Auckland.

                                     Nicky's sister, Rachel, with her old wardrobe, and Nicky's mum

What Day Is It?

We move out of Level 4 on Tuesday 31st August, midnight. That's the official time, unofficially we're out in our heads cos we've got no Covid. Kahu gles off to see his mate Sam. Their age group find staying at home difficult. I'm sick of groundhog day myself. I want to move around, see people and pass days outside of the fence line. But I bend not break the rules: Kahu's driving lessons, buying and selling on Marketplace. Small transgressions in my view. One of many. 

I get through another week of online teaching, mucking up my Year 13 zoom meeting again. These students are at the bottom academically but they're the most gracious human beings. They don't complain and they don't blame. One patiently e-mails to tell me I've got it wrong again. Aroha mai, excuse me, sorry. Very few of my students do any work. I pay it lip service myself as I've done my bit and I'm losing inspiration myself. No-one will die from leaving school work till tomorrow. 

On Friday I take Pete some baking and catch up. He's slowly winding back up and has all the time in the world. I drop in on Leah mowing her lawn from the bean bag. The mower zooms placidly around her back yard nosing its way around the edges. Leah gives me some carpet to protect my floor from the wheel chair. 

I post an old school pic on the Old Te Anau facebook page. I've named everybody and from a perspective of 52 years that's kept names with faces. They're people I haven't seen in a lifetime but many respond to the post. We're all out there somewhere. 

I spend Saturday doing Saturday jobs then Sharyn and I taxi to Lis's. I half expect Alex, Sharyn's taxi driver to tell us he can't take us, ie we're not allowed. It's good to sit in someone else's house, introduces a feeling of normality. My social life is important to me.