The 90% Project is an NZ Herald initiative that aims to reach all New Zealanders to get the word out about vaccination so we can save lives and restore freedoms. Video / NZ Herald
Opinion by Kim Knight
Kim Knight is a Senior Writer for the New Zealand Herald.
The hedge trimmers, tree choppers and deck builders are back. The burger flippers, coffee makers and order takers are back.
Over the weekend, Aucklanders tried to click and collect so many bags of compost, a major garden store emailed to say service was suspended. In the sixth week, wewoke from our slumber hungry, thirsty and absolutely desperate to plant tomatoes.
Garden centres, bookstores and baristas were back. Construction workers, hospitality and a former prime minister were back. At alert level 3, the only thing that hadn't gone away was the Delta variant.
The former prime minister said we were living in a "smug hermit kingdom". The current Prime Minister said high vaccination rates would be a "golden ticket". They used the language of fairytales and bedtime stories but we were all too wired to sleep because the flat white was also back. The clocks, meanwhile, had gone madly and blithely forward.
Let the commute recommence - up to 300,000 people were anticipated to physically return to workplaces when Auckland shifted alert levels. Photo / Michael Craig
At alert level 3, we have all been so busy. No power tool has been left unplugged; no lamb shoulder has not been slow roasted and pressed into service to save the future of hospitality, an industry where you may come to know the unvaccinated by the colour of the shirts the management at one Viaduct bar is planning to make them wear. (In lockdown, you only need one shirt, preferably without buttons - turns out most of your regular work wardrobe has not been designed for napping).
In the sixth week I thought about doing some spring cleaning because it is astonishing how filthy a house gets when you never leave it. The bookshelves needed dusting, the oven needed scraping and the fiance needed washing. I went online to order cheese and by the time I'd finished, spring was already well underway. It's the thought that counts.
Aucklanders out and about near Mission Bay on the first weekend of level 3. Photo / Hayden Woodward
Last week, around 300,000 workers returned to their physical workplaces. The other million or so of us went to the beach where we complained about how many other people were also at the beach. I stayed home, grabbing restaurant takeaway pick-up slots like a seagull on a bag of hot chips. The holy trinity of alert level 3 is salt, fat and antacid tablets. Centuries from now, when archaeologists scrape down through the rubbish dumps of Auckland's Delta period they will find nothing but disposable coffee cups, chicken bones and regret.
It was such a thrill to drive to another suburb to pick up our food. In the queue, a woman stared at me and I stared back and then she said my name and it took me a full 30 seconds to realise she was a friend I have worked with for more than a decade.
Construction workers were back on site at alert level 3. Photo / Michael Craig
"I didn't recognise you!" I said. "I have no eyebrows," she replied. "Me either!" I said. And then we sort of mumbled awkwardly into our masks like two people trying not to look like they just wanted to hug each other madly and drink wine in a bar in Barcelona or even Blenheim.
A happier reunion story? On my street, a masked Juliet has been waving at a distanced Romeo. She would stand curbside while he stayed on the porch. Last week, as level 3 dawned, I saw him skip down the driveway carrying bags stuffed with shoes and clothes. Their smiles were brighter than daylight saving.
