4th January 2019.

It’s catastrophic. We are spared, but what is happening elsewhere is truly horrific.

The Southerly just came through and turned the sky black, thunder boomed and lightning crashed and the rain came down, and also black, wet ash.  The wind whipped up the river and created waves, and the boats are bouncing against their moorings.  Gerald went out to move the car away from a banging fence door, and came in, with his yellow t shirt covered in black rain drops. A polka dotted shirt.

I’ve coughed a lot today, God knows how people with asthma are coping, my chest feels tight and my eyes are red.   I also walked on the beach this morning, without the doggies, who are having a wonderful holiday at Dog Heaven Hotel with Barbara and Les.  It was the strangest feeling, and seeing others throw the ball for their dogs had me feel envious.  I miss them. The house is a morgue without them.

I made dinner, using the left over roast chicken I cooked on New Years Day, and vegetables, but no wine, sadly, we need our wits about us.  I filled several big pots with water, unsure why, but I feel reassured!   We have a small solar lamp in case the electricity goes out, and a package of tiny battery operated lights which look like tea light candles.

Friends from all over have called with offers of accommodation, even Miriam Kapel, now in France, rang to say their beautiful new beach house in Coledale is there for us, and Sue and Ross and Sam, and Sue’s 86 year old Mum, Pat.   Katarina Novarina, Raquel Grant, the Sampsons, the Hardings, and several others have offered their homes. 

We’ve spent all day either preparing things and/or listening to the radio on ABC local Illawarra station, (total heroes), and the TV – sometimes at the same time.  The ABC Illawarra radio has been full on constant information, warnings, advice, people’s reports, and its full on.   Its tense.  Sometimes I have to turn it off - as the essential information, and bad news is relentless - but ten minutes later, I put it on again, just in case we miss something.  

Many areas have been declared “Too late to leave.   Seek shelter in a safe building, and shelter at the far side of the fire.”  Our neighbour Julie Guy’s brother lost his home two days ago, it burned to the ground, and they are in an evacuation centre – about an hour south of us, I think.  I cannot imagine the trauma of that.

Its rained for 15 minutes now.  Its 8.18 pm, and I’m going to watch something light on Iview with my Beloved.  We’re watching “Old Age Home for Four Year Olds” and its so funny, so touching, and so beautiful.

Sunday 5th January 2020.   Can you believe it is chilly today?

We went to bed about 11 pm, late for both of us, and with the surprising calm and quiet, I slept really soundly.  Our evening ritual of taking the dogs out for a wee and putting them to bed is not necessary, and feels very strange to be just the two of us.  I am comforted by the fact that Cino and Clover are being loved and adored and spoiled and Les says Clover is never coming home.   Given he has already said that about Cino, we might not ever have our dogs back home with us again.

I turned Illawarra ABC 97.3 off just before I turned out the light.   Its both comforting and alarming to hear the warning:   “Leave with plenty of time.  Only stay to defend your property if you are mentally and physically able.   Wear leather boots with thick soles, inadequate footwear can cause death.  Wear only woollen clothing, nylon and polyester will melt and burn your skin.  Wear goggles and leather gloves.”

The first thing we do is turn on the ABC, Illawarra 97.3.  Melinda James, Hero, sounds absolutely exhausted, her voice as hoarse as granite.  They have been a lifeline to thousands.  Thank you.

My Beloved brought me tea and my thyroid medication in bed, as always.   I showered and went to Mass in Berry, there were a lot less people in the congregation today.   Afterwards, I went to the IGA to get a paper, and the town is unrecognisable, in that there are no tourists anywhere.  The Milk Wood Bakery is closed, the Chocolate Coffee Shop closed, the little café on the corner next to the post boxes is closed.   The IGA was bustling, and the shelves looked a little empty.

I saw Ross Hobson at the pharmacy, one of our dear friends, who shared his and Sue’s experience of evacuating their home in Bundewallah Road yesterday afternoon.   They were having a ‘family moment’ when Sue Wanted to leave, and Ross felt they should stay, a situation which was decided when Sue spoke of her 84 year old Mum, Pat, sitting alone and afraid in her home in Berry – which was their safe house.   They left.   Half an hour later, they got a message from the RFS to say “Leave Now.”   So I went to see Sue at her Mum’s house, where they spent the night with Sam, and their dog Bonnie, who is very agitated – already a ‘highly energetic’ (code for ‘slightly mad!’) dog, she spent the night barking and clearly disturbed.  Sue and Ross and Sam went home today.

I then went to see the mother and the partner of another dear friend, Erica and David Harding, who lives just off Kangaroo Valley Road, and in a threatened area, who has refused to pack a bag or prepare to leave.   Despite my best intentions, I failed to even see her Mum, who was ‘asleep’ – which we know is not true, nor was I able to have him see the importance of being aware and ready.  So I failed.  Perhaps they want to die together, I suggested to Erica.   Yes, she said.

I came home and Gerald and I went for a long walk on our beach which is black with burnt leaves and soot and ash.   People were throwing their balls for their dogs and my heart ached.

I’m now back home, we’ve had lunch, and its so peaceful you would expect angels to sing.  The hair on the back of my neck still stands to attention, so I know this could be the eye of the storm.

I check my Face Book posts constantly, both the Berry Community and the Shoalhaven Heads Community pages.  Its exhausting to be constantly on alert. The house is unbearably quiet.  No doggies to bark at every potential robber or murderer who dares to walk on the beach outside our house, nobody else to talk to, laugh with and at, or feed.  No sweet words of love and affection or admonishment to Our Girls.   I’m going to have a nap.

I’ve slept for an hour.  I switch on the radio and they are playing music.  MUSIC!  We haven’t heard music for days!  OMG!    And there is a fine mist of rain falling, barely perceptible, but there.  Sue calls and says it is raining in Bundewallah Road.   Perhaps the World Community Prayer for Rain has had something to do with it.  That many people, over that many countries, praying for the same Precious Thing.  Mother Earth has responded.  Perhaps.