Friday 28th February

If my hair is going to fall out it will do so shortly. I will try to remain noncommittal, and pretend that it means nothing to me, either way. Haha! I fool no-one, least of all myself. It is just getting reasonable. One of Tessa's bosses who spotted me yesterday on a fleeting visit to my daughter at work, apparently commented that I looked trendy. I was so chuffed, for a week in my life, I will look normal. Aren't I lucky!

Yana was supposed to finish work at five, but Hendra had been held up till six, so he had to put in an extra hour. Not wanting to go go home for such a short period of time, I visited a friend. She has established a Balinese style retreat which is just gorgeous, and we chatted amicably. Time passes quickly when you are enjoying yourself and before I knew where I was, I had to race off and rescue my dear partner.

The mango season continues with a flourish and I splashed out again by treating myself to a lovely, very expensive, but perfect treat. Heaven is a mango! Warm weather, beaches and mangoes, what more could a person ask of life? Well, perhaps a head of short hair .... please.

Thursday 27th February

Yana had his day off today, after a bit of a false alarm on Monday. It was wet but I wasn't prepared to let a mere drop or two of water get in the way. We drove through Ballina, something I had aspired to do for some time, and continued on a few kilometres to the tiny town of Wardell. Our rentals manager owns a house there and I was curious. Rest assured, there is nothing there, which could well explain why the houses are slightly cheaper than in the rest of the region. After a brief cruise through the town we headed on to Alstonville, which though larger, was only marginally more exciting.

To top the trip off, Yana visited his favourite haunts, the pawnshop and K-mart. I was prepared this time, I had a newspaper, a new book on quotes from Oscar Wilde, and my journal, so I was well prepared to while a away a few hours.

We were still in festive mode so Yana and I treated ourselves to a meal at the Yellow flower Indian restaurant in Suffolk Park. We sat outside and enjoyed the cars drive past, there being no other view to speak of. The food lacks the punch that is normally associated with Indian cuisine but we managed to force it down regardless.

Wednesday 26th February

I visited the beach for the first time in over a week. It was looking fairly wild and hairy, deserted and forgotten, but then the weather was a little unsteady as well. I could see rain falling in the south, not too far from Suffolk Park, just streaks of dark grey. I didn't stay too long, because I suspected the moisture could catch up with me if I wasn't careful.

I was pleased to read that achievement in areas other than sport are also being acknowledged in our country. The Earth Champions project, a new Australian green initiative to find local heroes in the community, began its six-month nomination process recently. What a superb idea, some people work so selflessly to ensure a better world for our grandchildren, and deserve to have their actions publicised.

The men of Byron Shire got together last Sunday morning and posed for a nude antiwar photo. Only two hundred and fifty men turned up,not quite matching the seven hundred and fifty women who had turned up in federal, but it was still a creditable effort. The aerial photo in both the local rags showed an eggshaped circle containing the words 'peace man', totally made up of male bodies. Not that one could actually verify this from the photograph.

Tuesday 25th February

I caught up with some family members and discovered that very little was happening on any front, everyone was waiting for something but things were suspended, hanging tenously in the air. It is much the same with this coming war, we are all waiting for that too. Everybody sitting around twiddling their thumbs, what a predicament.

I am having major problems loading up my web page. For some reason, or no reason at all, my web page will not load up. This has bought me to the point where I have to decide whether I want to continue writing and try loading up from the library or an internet cafe, or if I should call a halt. Not a lot happens in my little life, and it isn't always easy to come up with something to say, so I will be giving the matter some thought over the next few days.

The Byron loves Bali group had their weekly meeting and we are well on the way to organising a fundraiser for April. The cultural performance will feature Kerensa, an Australian woman, in a Balinese mask dance. The story is delivered in English, and humourous political commentary is also provided. The whole performance is apparently quite magnificent and was well received at the Woodford Folk Festival. A gamelan group from Toowoomba will be providing the accompaniment.

Monday 24th February

I woke up to the sound of heavy rain, normally a pleasant sound, but not when you know that your car has a leak somewhere on the driver's side. All my dreams seemed to feature cars that were filled to their windows with water. Closer inspection at a civilised hour indicated that quite some water had entered, but we were well short of the flooding that I had envisaged.

The air is thick and humid, the ground is sodden and soaked, and you can almost hear the plants growing. Rich, rotting smells abound. I do love a tropical climate, and we may not qualify in Byron Bay, all the time, but we certainly do now.

Yana thought he had the day off, but was called in at the last minute because Hendra had disappeared. I wondered whether foul play was at work, and we would hear of a murder in the town, such a happening wasn't beyond the realms of possibility, but the missing figure emerged unscathed towards five o'clock.

Sunday 23rd February

A nice sunny day, which took us all by surprise. I attended to the nasty heap of dirty clothing which I had ignored for days. There is nothing like a shortage of clothing to motivate one into a little action. Slothlike creature that I have become.

I did a good stint of writing while the house was asleep. It can be so beautiful in the freshness of the morning. A woeful bird somewhere nearby made slow haunting sounds and I treasured the peacefulness. I am so grateful that we moved away from the traffic noises on Bangalow Road.

Yana was working so the responsibility of the radio program fell on my shoulders. We got through the two hour stint, but the effort quite exhausted me. I don't know how much longer I will continue helping out. Try as I might the activity does nothing for me. Many people get a real buzz out of being on the radio, but me, I can barely be bothered. It is all a bit of an anticlimax, and a very time consuming one at that.

Saturday 22nd February

The rain deterred us from garage sale visiting. A few were still operating, promising to be undercover, but we were not so keen. All that getting in and out of the car, in the wet, it wasn't worth the bother. Attending garage sales would have to be a fine weather activity, if you ask me.

My body was slightly more robust and I was able to withstand a fairly concentrated supermarket visit without having to rush outside. I was still aware of the fumes and smells but they weren't quite as nauseating as they had been the previous time. The whole population of Byron seemed to be shopping, there must be something about a wet day that inspires all and sundry to get behind a trolley.

I hate being so sedentary and vacuous, but by evening I was capable of little else than lying on the couch and watching television. A whole night of English drama paraded unceremoniously before my eyes. a waste of an evening, but it could have been worse, I might have been forced to watch commercial television.

Friday 21st February

I took it easy in the morning as the meeting the night before had quite exhausted me. Normally I like to be seated at the computer before 7, but I convinced myself that rest was important. I still have a very nasty cough and must be careful. I use my little digital thermometer religiously throughout the day, just to ensure that I am supervising all eventualities. I don't want anthing untoward to occur, I have writing that is still incomplete.

Around midday I went to radiology and had my first drain for three months. All the staff are ever so friendly as I was quite a regular client last year. The procedure was quick and efficient, and I was home around before four. Those nasty little extra litres that I carried around all summer, were removed, plus a few extra more recent arrivals, and I can't say that I am sorry. I am looking quite thin now, typical really, if I'm not bloated then I am scrawny. Whatever happened to normal?

I was exhausted for the rest of the day, absolutely and utterly devoid of a scrap of energy. I vegetated in front of the television, something I haven't done for months and months. It wasn't even good television, but I was too worn out to get up and change channels. Tess very kindly volunteered to pick up Yana at eleven, when he had finished work, as I just wasn't up to going anywhere.

Thursday 20th February

Rain has fallen quite abundantly. I love the smell of rain on vegetation, I just can't get enough of it. We had a brief house inspection, and the agent commented that the rain is expected to continue right into next week. Summer rain thrills me and by the time it stops I might be ready to resume my beach walks. I will be having twenty days without medication, starting tomorrow, so there has to be some improvement to my condition shortly.

I read that there was a huge fire in the Tanah Abang market Jakarta, and thousands of people lost their only livelihood. The fire fighters found that there wasn't enough water to extinguish the flames. Strange really after the floods of last week. People the world over must be shaking their heads in amazement, as conditions lurch from one extreme to the next. Drought to flood, flood to fire.

There was an Australia Indonesia Arts Alliance meeting in Brunswick Heads, in the evening, and Yana and I attended. Like most meetings it was longwinded and tedious, but there were some lovely people there, and that is always a compensation. We drove home in blinding rain which sorely tested Yana's driving skills, but he managed admirably. Visibility was very limited.

Wednesday 19th February

I think I am feeling marginally better, but am not completely sure. The weather was a little cooler, we had some rain last night, and I was pleased with the reprieve from the excessive temperatures of the previous few days. I am still taking it easy and haven't even contemplated a beach walk as yet.

I had a visitor, a Tasmanian woman and her young daughter, and listened attentively to their stories of life in Kuwait. It sounded a fascinating place but as it is in the line of fire if George W gets his wicked way, she has left for the time being. Her husband, a teacher, will probably leave if the situation proves too dangerous to stay. She found Byron's humidity unbearable, although while in Kuwait she had baked under temperatures as high as fifty degrees, the difference was apparently enormous. I, to be honest, have always preferred the humidity to dry heat.

Sleep was a bit intermittent because our neighbours were talking to all hours of the morning. The continous prattle irritated me immensely and I was hard pushed to contain myself. I felt like screaming 'Shut up' loudly but I am far too polite for such behaviours these days. I suffered, restlessly.

Tuesday 18th February

I was not a great deal better than yesterday, and if the truth be known, wondered if I had deteriorated. At eight o'clock appointment with a doctor gave me some sense of direction, he filled out a pharmacy receipt, chest x-ray referral and a blood test form, but asked me to wait twenty-four hours before I acted on them. I was of a like mind, I don't like rushing in and taking antibiotics, and would also prefer to cope without, provided I can.

The Byron loves Bali meeting scheduled for five o'clock was cancelled at the last moment because of a deluge of rain in Brunswick Heads. Needless to say the downpour never made its way to Suffolk Park, and I felt that I was staying home under false pretences. I had been more than prepared to attend, was going to force myself, if needs be, but was quite relieved with the deferment, I really wasn't the least bit well.

For most of the day I had interspersed little naps, between writing and reading, until I made it to seven thirty and then decided to go to bed in earnest. Sleeping was all that I felt like doing, every bone in my body, and the rest as well, ached out for oblivion.

Monday 17th February

All my energy has disappeared. The beach walks that I previously enjoyed, require such an effort, that I have had to skip some and shorten others. Swimming has had to be foregone as well, as I found myself with a sudden, debilitating chest cold. What an unfortunate turn of events. Last week, before treatment commenced I was fine, although I suppose it was only a matter of time before this changed.

I took my temperature with my old thermometer and took a reading of forty. I was highly suspicious, but thought that I had better drop by the doctor's surgery and check. I was lucky, my temperature, despite the awful cough, was still normal. I will have to throw the old thermometer away and get something a little more reliable. I may even go digital this time, it should be a lot easier.

My appetite has disappeared and eating has become a real problem. Nothing excites me and my old favourite of macaroni cheese, repels me the most. I have no idea what to do and am trying to force something down three times a day. I had been eating quite healthily up till now, but broccoli and brown rice don't inspire me at all any more.

Sunday 16th February

I have already spent a whole year in Australia, having arrived in Brisbane on this day, twelve months ago. I can't say that the time has gone fast, and I have really missed Indonesia. The fluid is starting to accumulate again, and I will need to be drained shortly. This ties me even closer to the hospital system and negates the possibility of escape.

I was not feeling at all well. Yana and I had gone shopping in the supermarket but I had to leave him to it, the smells and fumes were nauseating. Sitting in a hot car was marginally better. After that, Yana went to Ballina, parking the car in shady spots and leaving me to try to pass the day as best I could, while he pursued his favourite hobby, shopping. The hours dragged by slowly and I was not impressed.

Yana did the radio program this afternoon, which was a relief for me. I really didn't think that I was up to it. You wouldn't have thought that talking was strenous, and for the average person it isn't, but for me today, it would have been well nigh impossible.

Saturday 15th February

I was very keen to participate in the Byron Peace march. I tried to encourage Yana to accompany me, but he expressed a reluctance to listen to a whole lot of people making long speeches. When I explained that we wouldn't be going to listen but to show our solidarity, he happily acquiesced. Quite a turnout of people assembled in the Railway Park, and then walked through the streets, chanting, singing and clapping, to stop at the Apex Park, near the Beach Hotel. The atmosphere was electric, particularly as a considerable group of people had brought along bongo drums. There were speeches, but as Yana had met up with some of his Indonesian mates, he wasn't complaining, he was too busy talking.

I watched television coverage of the gatherings Australia wide with considerable enthusiasm. It was great to hear that such a large number of people had assembled to express their point of view. I know that our little prime minister is not going to be affected by public opinion. He has decided what is good for his people but has forgotten that Australia is a democracy. He is only a public servant and is supposed to be attentive to our wishes. We will remind him of this at the very next election.

I started writing a newspaper article for the local rag 'The Echo'. Our Byron loves Bali group hopes to inform the public about how the money raised last year at the fundraising event is being presently utilised in Bali. The job has fallen to me, and I hope that I can do the topic justice.

Friday 14th February

Valentine's Day. I have never been a great one for celebrating the day, but made it clear, that I would be more than happy to accept any gifts that came my way. Yana seemed to hold similar views. We both were happy to receive but weren't so interested in buying. Needless to say neither of us got much out of the day.

My chemotherapy is making me feel tired and a little sick but is not as pervasive as some of the other treatments I have been subjected to over the last few years. So far, anyhow. Food is becoming a problem again as nothing inspires me. Oddly enough yesterday I fancied some smoked salmon, and this being what I craved, I decided to treat myself. Eating is important after all and I have to keep my strength up.

I quite like living in Suffolk Park. It has a casual, laidback atmosphere, and every now and then I genuinely feel attached to the place. It is so flat that a good number of the local residents use push bikes to get around, young boys race to the beach with their bodyboards after school, and dogs can be found aplenty. The nearby beach is a real bonus and I actually had two swims along with a nice lengthy walk, today. If I stay here much longer I might even start to develop a real affection for my present home. Heaven forbid.

Thursday 13th February

A meeting with the management of Bay FM community radio was organised for lunchtime at our house. There were some issues that had to be dealt with but the whole procedure bored me witless. I have a distinct aversion to committees and meetings, and certainly more so now that my days are numbered. I was staggered at how some people could say the same thing in five different ways, and also the way we all sat around and allowed them to. It made me understand why some people became dictators, I felt a strong urge to grab control and start doing some definite directing myself. It was what the situation was supposed to achieve but never would, certainly not under such polite circumstances.

It was a sticky hot day and when I made my way to the beach I discovered a good number of Suffolk Park residents were of a similar mind. It was lovely to see families with youngsters, and the inevitable retrieving dogs. The water was cool and refreshing. I keep my eyes glued to the sand these days as I lost a beautiful little gold disc on my birthday, that Yana had given me some years ago. I don't expect to see it again, but will continue looking, just in case.

Tessie had returned safe and sound to Byron on Wednesday evening. It was nice to have her back, and she was full of praises for Newcastle and Sam's share house. It had been quiet without her, and left me with an empty uncomfortable feeling. She was ready to return to work, commenting that she felt that she had been away for ages. It is amazing how far one week can stretch.

Wednesday 12th February

The long awaited appointment with the oncologist at Lismore finally eventuated, after a three month holiday on my part. I was able to read the bulk of two National Geographics while waiting, fascinating articles on exotic places, as the doctor was well behind schedule. Even getting to see the doctor was something of a disappointment, he was a nice enough fellow, but not all that positive. It wasn't the type of approach I needed, and he managed to dampen my spirits considerably. Granted I have had a lot of chemotherapy, but I don't want to be told that this reduces my chances of a further positive response. I am not stupid, I am well aware of this, but don't necessarily want to hear the words being expressed. I would rather nothing was said at all.

I have been prescribed an oral chemotherapy, which will probably cause my beautiful hair to fall out again, and is also supposed to lead to quite a bit of nausea. What a cheerful prospect! At least I won't have to go in for intravenous therapy and worry about collapsed veins and similar inconveniences. I started the treatment straight away and can only hope that it is not as nasty as some of the other variations I have sampled.

Yana had been quite bored waiting in the hospital and so he had wandered off to the shopping centre just down the road. I finished soon after and was left with the dilemma of trying to locate him, or wait near the car. Waiting in the car was impossible as it was just too hot. So I rushed down to the centre and discovered that it was far too big and the chances of meeting him would have been limited, so I returned to stand next to the car. For nearly two hours! Suffice to say, I was not a very happy vegemite by the time that Yana put in an appearance. It took quite a lot of joking on his part to return a smile to my face.

Tuesday 11th February

I have decided to completely abandon my wig, my hair is still very short, but the feeling of freedom is more important than appearance. It was just too hot, and my head would itch like crazy. It wasn't easy to appear wigless, but I did so cautiously for the first day and then it seemed to become easier. From what I gathered my new look didn't seem to raise too many eyebrows and some people actually asked if I'd had my hair cut. That did hearten me.

I have come to a very testing patch in my story, and it is taking considerable patience on my part to go back through and try to make some improvements. The writing is nothing short of dismal, and this worries me, as I desperately want to produce something reasonably solid. I have this feeling of time running through my fingers like water and it quite panics me. I am faced with the dilemma of starting a new story, or continuing to work on the old one. For the present I will stick with some ruthless editting, but I am uneasy about what it will achieve.

Evenings frustrate me in that I would like to take my computer to a quiet corner of the house and continue the editting process but my brain is usually completely frazzled. I feel that good time is being wasted but as I can't think straight I just have to do something less demanding. I then try to go to bed reasonably early so that I can start fresh and alert in the mornings.

Monday 10th February

Efiq and Emma left in the afternoon, and as Tessie had caught the late train to Newcastle the night before, the house seemed unnaturally empty. I do hate it when guests leave, it makes me feel quite sad, and I really can't see why they have to go. Fortunately I had a few appointments to keep me busy, and I didn't have to dwell on my abandonment for long.

I attended a pampering party for nutrimetics products, which is not my style, I know, but it was interesting. I enjoyed the free facial and the pleasant company, but still couldn't quite reconcile myself to paying fairly large sums for cosmetics and creams when many in the world don't even have enough to eat. The next stop was the doctor's rooms and this had me in a state of fear and trepidation. I was to hear the results of my most recent blood test, but fortunately the visit was not as traumatic as it could have been, for my cancer, although it had advanced somewhat, hadn't skyrocketed. I actually walked out of the surgery with a smile on my face, appreciating full well that the progression could have been a lot worse.

Almost a month after our original request for some assistance with our horrendous television reception, a man finally appeared at our door. His late appearance hadn't worried me as I don't really watch television these days, but it had annoyed Tessa quite considerably. Within half an hour of fiddling about, we were able to tune into all five stations, and the reception was perfect. Such an improvement to only having two channels, and an unclear picture to boot. I hope I won't feel the need to become a square eyed person again, but I have always been very partial to SBS and may not be able to help myself.

Sunday 9th February

I made a late start to the day, as I felt quite washed out. This was due to lack of sleep, and totally unrelated to alcohol, I'd like to point out, as I don't drink anything other than an occasional sip. I was still up hours before anyone else and enjoyed the weekend newspaper while all was quiet.

Yana cooked again, he is a great host, and we had a lovely swim with Efiq and Emma, who will be leaving Australia for Bandung within the next week. Lucky people that they are, I am green with envy, and told them as much. I am sure that I will get to visit my favourite city again one day, it is just a matter of patience.

Yana was working at the Noodle Bar, so the responsibility of acting as co compere for the community radio program fell on my broad shoulders. It was no hardship, although I wasn't quite as well prepared as I had been the previous week, when typically enough, my services hadn't been needed. Paul, the other compere, a film maker, had spent a few weeks in Bali, just two days after the bombing, and so was able to compile a short film that will be shown around the country in various film festivals. It was interesting to hear his observations and impressions, as it was such a terrible, but fascinating time to be there.

Saturday 8th February

Although over seven hundred women made it to the nude lie in at Goonengerry, as a protest against an Iraqi war, I didn't. A shame really because it would have been quite an experience. People all over Australia were able to watch the event on television as a whole host of national news journalists attended. Efiq and Emma had spent the night with us, and I was having a bit of a sleep-in, after a very late night, and of course it was my birthday, so it was a case of wrong day, wrong time. Any other day of the year I would have tried to be there.

The day slipped through our fingers, and so by the time the guests started arriving we had barely started preparing the food. A long swim in the early evening hadn't really helped our preparations, although it had certainly cooled us down. Yana cooked like a madman, and by nine o'clock a vertitable banquet had been assembled. I was quite agog, as were our guests. All the food was laid out on a tablecloth on the floor, as we have very little furniture, and everybody sat around in a large circle. It was just wonderful. Such lovely people came and it was quite sobering to realise that we had met every single one of them within the last ten months.

Once everybody had eaten, the Indonesian boys got together and started to produce some superb music, while everyone else just chatted and enjoyed themselves. It was a magnificent evening, and gave me a real feeling of delight. I felt lucky to be surrounded by such wonderful people, and the knowledge that I had even more good friends in various parts of the universe made me feel so priviledged.

Friday 7th February

While eating my breakfast and reading the concluding pages of Rushdie's Satanic Verses, I nearly choked on some toast. It was touch and go for some time and I wondered whether I had been somewhat premature in congratulating myself for having reached my birthday. Shades of Janis Joplin and Jimi Hendrix came to mind, although they had choked on their own vomit, which was a bit different. My brother later told me that Mama Cass had choked on a ham sandwich, and on hearing this story I was greatly chastened for I had obviously been very lucky.

A group of supporters of the New Tribe group were gathered in the railway park preparing salad rolls for whoever wanted one. I was intrigued to see that the town beggars and other familiar free loaders were already in attendance. It is amazing how quickly some people can suss out a free bit to eat. I, of course, walked past and left the food for a more worthy and needy person, I am not in need of charity quite yet.

On the community radio a woman was presenting some rather farfetched perspectives on recent world events. She believed that the Canberra bushfires were a direct retribution for sending troups to Iraq and that the explosion of the space shuttle was a warning for America, that good was not on their side. Even I, who can get rather irate and fired up by what is going on, couldn't possibly make such tenous connections. I wonder if some listeners called back to take exception to her comments.

Thursday 6th February

Sammie had arranged with Tess that I should be taken out to lunch. Being an easygoing and grateful soul, I accepted enthusiastically. The beach cafe at Clark beach was to be our destination as I had never been there before and am rather partial to looking at the sea while I eat. Tess had sung its praises and I was certain that the time was ripe to formulate my own opinion.

The cafe was very crowded, so two older women with heavy European accents asked if they could join us at our table. One was very scantily dressed for a woman of her vintage and they both spoke very loudly about all sorts of topical issues and concerns. Prior to this I, yes poor me, had regularly been berated for speaking too loud in public, 'you're embarrassing me mum', but I doubt whether I will be chastised in the future. These two left me for dead.

Eventually, we too, were drawn in to their conversation. The women, one from Austria and the other from Switzerland used English, which surprised me, I would have expected them to use their common language, German. They explained that as they were in Australia, where the language was English, they should follow suit. To do otherwise was rude. They then told us that they had both been picking up cigarette butts on the lighthouse walk, this being something that they do every week. I was most impressed.

While walking along the beach later in the evening I noticed two coconuts that had been washed up by the surf. They were barely recognisable and I had to remove the surrounding seaweed and algae to check whether they really were what I thought they were. I couldn't help but wonder where they had come from, some exotic location no doubt, how long ago and whether they had encountered some nasty storms on the way. So many stories to tell, but they lay there, mute and sodden in the sand.

Wednesday 5th February

Three years ago, exactly, my life crumbled into a thousand pieces when I discovered that I had cancer. My wonderful job, my prospects and my future all evaporated. Despite predictions to the contrary I am still here, but with my wings severely clipped. Sometimes this frustrates me enormously, I want to grab life in big handfuls, but can really only dip my finger in. Some might say that I shouldn't complain, that I am lucky, so would they like to change places with me?

I attended the Byron loves Bali meeting at the Piggery, disregard the name, it is actually a lovely spot, and caught up on the latest developments. One member had just come back from Bali, and reported in detail on some of the bomb survivors, plus some of the women who had been widowed by the blast. These people are being closely monitored and if help is required our funds could be at their disposal within days. Interestingly enough the 'reporter' was none other than Lin, a distant relative of Ginny, my very special friend in Singapore.

Two houses away from our unit is the dolphin house, an ordinary brick building surrounded by a curved blue fence, which presumably represents the sea. Two dimensional paintings of whales decorate one external wall while statues/models of dolphins are visible out the front. From all accounts the doctor who lives here is eccentric and interesting, but I have not met him as yet. I certainly hear him though. He, or somebody who lives in the house is very partial to the didgeridoo, and they play it at any time of the day or night. It is not easy to concentrate on my writing, or a good film with such a loud booming noise in the background, but I try my best.

Tuesday 4th February

More rain again, and hopefully water restrictions will not need to rise another level. I didn't even get around to my daily walk, as there was continous drizzling. Missing a day isn't a problem, but I hope I don't lose too many moredays exercise, as I would like to maintain my present levels of fitness.

I did a lot of writing today but was singularly impressed with my efforts. My present story strikes me as petty, boring and irrelevant, but then again it reflects my somewhat boring life. How could I possibly write an exciting plot full of action, adventure and mystery, when my life is totally devoid of these ingredients. I won't stop writing but I certainly wish that I could come up with a plot that had a bit of bite to it. Perhaps my next idea will be a little more inspiring.

Some residents in Byron are making their views very clear on the possible war with Iraq, and I admire them for their efforts. One car had writing all over the windows expressing concern that Mr Howard was not listening to his people. A house in Bangalow road has erected three colourful signs on their front fence, all rejecting the notion of war. Another house had a huge white banner that advocated peace. I think that I will hang something white out the front of our house, something has to be done. I have been watching a series of very disturbing films recently, one was set in Burma and the other in Sarajevo, and I shudder to think that the same amount of heartache, bloodshed and destruction will occur in Iraq.

Monday 3rd February

The rain has continued, lots and lots of it, and it has made conditions quite a lot cooler. Sometimes I can fool myself that I live in a tropical outpost but after any sizeable downpour, I know that I am deluding myself. There is definitely no steam here in Byron Bay when rain hits the road.

Yana and I headed off to Ballina for a bit of shopping. We wanted to get some whole fish for Saturday, so that guests, if any drop by, can have a bite to eat. Fish done the Indonesian way, kecap manis sauce with chilli and freshly cooked rice, I can taste it all now. While in Ballina we got stuck into some serious shopping, not that this is unusual for Yana, but it certainly is out of character for me. We selected a new watchband, this being Yana's birthday present for me, and then went on to hopefully conclude the saga for non slip shoes. Discussion over the last week, with various people in the know, had revealed that a good portion of kitchen workers wear a Blundstone type boot.

We were inspired. Eventually, after trying on a huge number of sizes and models, Yana made his choice, and from what he said on returning from work later that evening, the boots were very effective. Thank goodness for that. I was warming up by this stage and found myself ready to tackle the underwear shopping that I had been putting off since some time last year. I tend not to waste money on myself as I am never sure that I will get much wear out of new acquisitions, my possible demise looms ever above me, but decided on this occasion to thrown caution to the winds. My mother had always warned me to wear good underwear just in case something happened, and I am sure she was talking doctors and hospitals and nothing else. She would be well and truly proud of me now.

Sunday 2nd February

Yesterday it pretended to rain, but today the weather got its act together, and there were some decent downpours. It was Byron Bay market day, unfortunately, but I am sure not too many people were upset with the inclement conditions. We needed rain desperately, and even if the reservoirs weren't greatly helped, at least all the gardens and parched lawns in the district benefitted form a good soaking.

In the afternoon, during a lull in the rain, Yana and I headed off to the market. I wondered why he was so keen, but after he had met a good number of his Indonesian mates, I started to understand, the market was obviously a social occasion, and hence the attraction. I did not meet any familiar faces and so had to entertain myself by people watching. This was not difficult and I marvelled at the number of alternatively dressed people wandering about. You just don't see them in the streets of Byron Bay these days, and they must just come down from the hills for the market.

After last week's amnesia I prepared a little more thoroughly for the community radio programme. Driving into town I asked Yana for the Indondesian words for reafforestation and logging, and practised my spiel. There had been a landslide near Garut, killing thirty people and it had been caused by large scale tree felling that had not been followed up by a replanting program. The company forestry company involved, Perhutani, had refused to take any responsibility, blaming the residents for staying in the area, and continuing to farm. Apparently they should have moved!

Primed and ready to talk about the environmental disaster, yet another among a whole series, I noticed that Jaemmy, who is actually Indonesian, was waiting at the radio shack. My services would be superflous so I retreated gracefully, to spend some more time at the computer. I was actually quite grateful.

Saturday 1st February

The start of another month, and so already I am one twelfth of the way through my day calendar. I seem to be ripping off pages right, left and centre. The Chinese are celebrating the start of a new year, but we are too far from any real Chinatowns to be able to join in the fanfare. In Indonesia the day has been proclaimed a national holiday and people of Chinese extraction are now able to celebrate freely. For years they had been forced to hold quiet parties behind closed doors. It is nice to hear that there are some postive things happening in Indonesia.

After a very late start we attended a few garage sales in Suffolk Park. At one house we noticed that a large group of girls, all aged around five years of age, were having a bit of a disagreement. The two parties stood a good number of metres apart, glaring angrily at the opposing faction, and whispering behind shielding hands. Yana and I were highly amused but it did get me thinking. If young children have major confrontations no wonder we have constant wars in the world.

It was a bit of a miserable day, grey but not really wet. Yana and I went to the video shop to change our movies and discovered that half of Byron Bay was of a similar mind. I suppose it made sense, it was, after all, the weekend, and it wasn't a nice day. Nonetheless, I was a little concerned that so many people, me included, seemed to have nothing better to do with their life than watch a film of somebody else's life. It struck me as very sad. There has to be more to life than this, surely?

marionecp@hotmail.com