Cath Moore: The groundhog riding that second wave

I’m sure you saw it roughly six weeks ago. Quite an unusual sight. Far out to sea, a groundhog catching the second wave, rolling in to shore. Most Melburnians have certainly felt its presence, every day a repeat of the one before and now with an extra couple of weeks added to our current lockdown this groundhog is digging in deep, exposing the surrealities of life.

While those who decry it’s all a hoax are obviously delusional, I’m convinced the feline population have a majority share in Zoom and are hijacking their owners’ online meetings to discuss a covert coup. Now with global connectivity, I’m sure they’re using subtle communicative signals to plan an uprising. Tail up for yes, blink twice for no. What are they really up to? Disarming us with faux displays of conspiratorial cuteness (yes Athena, I am talking specifically about you).

Cath Moore: being kept in storage is pickling my perceptionCredit:

The gods of silliness and serendipity are working overtime at the moment, concocting strange intersections between the past and the present. Frustrated at finishing a jigsaw – bar one final corner – I stumbled across the piece at the back of the cupboard in an old mustard jar. After talking about finding a new hobby, my partner found an old '50s sewing machine by the side of the road. He lugged it home and tailors anything he can get his hands on.

I’m doing odd things to break up the routine: found a discarded shopping list in my trolley and bought everything on it instead of what I’d come to purchase. I’m thinking of starting a takeout business called Stranger Eats. With all the extra online time I have given in to, my son has become obsessed with Korean pop. We are now all humming the heartfelt lyrical poetry of boy band iKon. Bobby and Chanwoo, swoon.

Being kept in storage for longer has pickled my perception. I regularly see people in parked cars on loud speakerphone calls. Obviously connected somehow, to the imminent cat takeover of the world. I hardly recognise my partner who simultaneously grew a mullet and a beard. Are we all becoming hairy and/or suspicious or is it just my gang?

I’m guessing that dentists might be seeing an increase in patients grinding their teeth at night, wondering if tomorrow that groundhog might have actually taken a sabbatical somewhere else. I keep dreaming of falling backwards into a large pit of soft toys. My partner keeps dreaming that he’s Gollum from The Lord of the Rings. Life on lockdown is random and bizarre but as I say to my partner, "Hold on my precious, this too shall pass."

Cath Moore is the author of Metal Fish, Falling Snow (Text Publishing)