You can take my freedom but you cant take away my C'ronut Virus. Live from the FungeonNZ

And just like that, I'm the motheronboard. And the teacheronboard. While workingonboard. Paying back the mortgageonboard. While preserving the plums and feeding the sourdough starter. And keeping an eye on the latest global death statistics learning to crochet being a community minded carer and rocking it across all my social media feeds. Did I mention the chickens? Got to squeeze those suckers daily. Already drank most of my red wine. Bringing my virus baggage with me. Chapped hands is the new black.
Fuck. Sorry. Shouldn't swear but probably will.
Day one. Lets begin this thing called LockDownFreakyShitNz or otherwise known as 'the Fungeon'.
Home schooling (8 hours in) has started with the boys teaching me (anyone surprised?) about the fudge dungeon which is a torture house made of fudge that is supposed to be fun. (Thanks Wreck it Ralph)
I'm not sure who is going to learn the most in this fungeon.
I was driving over the Remutakas (GO YOU LITTLE TAKAS!) when the country escalated to Level 3, slippery sliding with extra bubbles rapidly into Level 4 in 48 hours, to a Lockdownnz. What were you doing?
Usually putting NZ on the end of the word makes it cool and happening and funky. All in it together. Not in this Fungeon. FungeonNZ. Meh. That's a bit better with capitals.
Post announcement I popped into Kiwi bank to get a pin number on my new credit card, Hallelujah, and gave $40 bucks to two old looking homeless dudes wrapped up together in a sleeping bag under an old shop front awning. 'Find somewhere to stay and keep warm and safe' I advised them. 'Find somewhere thats warm and safe on Wednesday at 130pm'. I said. They nodded and rubbed the two twenties together. What a cheap arse I am, I thought later, vigorously rubbing my hand sanitiser into the cracks.
My fungeon isnt even going to be that fun, I expect. I'll try and at least give an honest ratio of spazz to 'gram moments.
I am so lucky. An grateful. And even though I cant answer my daughter's math's question she wants to start at 9pm (I don't know! Go to sleep ! Its a home school night!), I did answer the whats going to happen tomorrow question. Tomorrow darling, its going to be OK. Whatever happens in the fungeonNZ tomorrow, it will never be the same, but it will be OK.