The woman variously known as House Hitler, Keith Richards and Kitchen Nazi is working from home.

There are some very definite advantages for them. Not many.

And then there are, the 'others'; things I might do that could be loosely described as disadvantages (for them).

I am, dear reader, a reluctant dictator.

Or, a wife spying on her husband?

I thought I heard him, outside with a plumber!

What were they thinking!

What were they doing?

Were they getting too intimate?

Dear reader, it was like he was getting a little plumbing on the side.

Is that a wrench in your pocket?

Surely I was imagining things?

Lots of chuckling.

Lots of "let me help you with that".

Like a wronged wife, I found myself sneaking downstairs to spy on their dangerous liaison.

There they were.

Exposed.

In our shared courtyard checking out a roof leak.

Well, that's what they said they were doing.

But I knew better.

I watched from behind the safety of the upstairs, kitchen window.

Should I expose myself?

Should I call out their affair?

Should I bite my tongue like Emma Thompson in Love Actually where she discovers her gorgeous husband Bill Nighy having a little on the side with his secretary?

I looked away, held back my rage, and considered my response.

Was I a woman scorned? Was I the House Hitler?

What should I do?

I went back upstairs, where like me, our son is working from home. Yes. Examiner Newsroom on one side of the hall and StGiles on the other. (Now, there's a sitcom script straight out of Seinfeld.)

I knocked on his door.

"Can you hear what dad's up to, with the plumber?"

The look of horror on his face was my heartbreaking call to action.

I was definitely channelling Keith Richards meets Seinfeld's Elaine (Julia Louis-Dreyfus).

I could feel my virtue rising, like a screeching Saturday night hoon on Paterson Street.

I knew what I had to do. Our son nodded, like a reluctant Seinfeld, letting Elaine off leash.

I crept downstairs and across to our kitchen window.

I slid open the window, and hollered.

"Social distancing! You guys are breaking the law!"

Was I embarrassed when they looked up, like lovers caught 'parking' behind the Silverdome?

Yes. A bit.

But lockdown can make a woman do strange things.

Keep your naughty self under control and stay safe.

Two weeks ago, I enjoyed Friday afternoon with Audrey.

Her in her red and white-spotted pinafore and me in my hot pink shirt and jeans.

Her seated in a green-cushioned chair. Me, in a matching chair, about three metres away at the end of her terrace overlooking a garden of red and white-striped petunias.

Late that night, I read where 11 Tasmanians tested positive to COVID-19.

My time with Audrey had lifted my heart.

Audrey and I are separated by some years.

She'd called my work, StGiles, because she wanted to buy Easter eggs for the children who use our services.

I visited on my way home and was rewarded with a book she'd written about her life: "Cooking Around the Furneaux Islands".

It was filled with old friends like Almond and Sultana Cake and included inspired inclusions from an Italian who regularly came to Tin Kettle Island to shoot quail.

My favourite pic is of Audrey, serving a seaside picnic from ochre boulders.

Last Friday it was Audrey who made my day.