Monday, April 27: I love a plan and today I’ve got one. Writing in the morning, finishing the family treasures project, and continuing with the book cull. The practical stuff before a social afternoon. Social looks good: meet Denise again at Parana Park, then a couple of Zooms, including a family quiz and catching up with the grandkids.
We’re moving into Level 3 tomorrow, inching back into the real world. I’m trying not to think of all the domestic jobs I was going to do in lockdown but didn’t get around to. Like my tax return, filing our messy piles of family photographs, cleaning the windows. They’ll keep. Or maybe I’ll knock a few more things off in Level 3.
I walk to meet Denise and there are welcome signs of business activity in Claudelands, owners dusting off their shuttered premises. The Dumpling House has handwritten notes in the window saying, “See you Tuesday”; the people at Scoff Take-out for Grown Ups are cleaning the fittings; and across the road there is similar action at Red Pot Kitchen, the Malaysian take-away. I’m already placing my dumpling dinner order in my head and can almost smell the coffee at Grey St Kitchen. Across town, Banh Mi Vietnamese restaurant reports its delivery slots are booked out for Tuesday and Wednesday.
We’re on the cusp of change and I am pleased my age group has no greater restrictions in Level 3 than anyone else. For more about how people are regarded and treated, based on their age, read Venetia’s excellent opinion column on Stuff, headlined ‘Please don’t tag me vulnerable’.
At Parana Park, Denise and I sit on either side of a seat in the circular rose garden, and we’re also looking ahead to things we want to do in the near future. Hug our families, for starters. We’re hopeful that the Kiwi team of five million has done enough to defeat Covid-19. Lockdown has been hard work at times, curiously satisfying as well.
The last time I was at Parana Park’s rose garden was to conduct a wedding ceremony for Adriana, the brilliant manager of the hospital where Bill was a patient. It was a truly happy event; there were hugs and tears and closeness as Adriana and Johnny got married, with a cast of family and friends in support.
The memory lingers still, the gatherings like this that we took for granted. I want those days to come again.
Food matters: Tonight, I discover the pleasures of frozen paratha, Indian flat-bread, found in the freezer section at Green Patch green-grocery, on Grey St (thanks Anna, for the tip). Frozen paratha is a great vehicle for whatever bits and pieces you have to hand. You put the paratha straight from the freezer into a hot frying-pan, no oil or butter, and it puffs up nicely. Turn it over, do the same on the other side, then flick it out and load with toppings. In this case, a warm salad of green leaves, herbs, roast pumpkin and red pepper, and roast chicken thigh glazed with a swish of white miso, chilli sauce and olive oil. But anything will work on this golden flaky base.
Note: The best freshly made paratha in town is at Lazat Malaysian restaurant in Victoria St.
“You can’t buy happiness but you can buy local and that’s kinda the same.”
– Waikato Food Inc