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day 10

 Ten days ago I got the flu (the flu? A flu?) and used it as an opportunity to take a break from drinking. When I weighed myself, I'd lost 3kg without trying, so it's definitely worthwhile, plus I sleep better, have slightly less anxiety and I'm getting into tea drinking.  The kids are away in the country, and I've used the time to clean, deep clean, fall in love with a clean house. I sorted out my art desk, tidied up my writing desk enough to complete my passport application (done!), Mum visited and made a welcome contribution to the front and rear verandah, then Jess visited and helped clean my bathroom walls, admiring their blue colour. She, bless her, even cleaned the ceiling with her long netballer arms. To deserve a friend like Jess is something!  The next project is to paint the backing of a frame, in a duck egg blue variance, so I can frame the Laura Wills print I bought, and then await the hooks I bought, which allegedly could hold up to 7kg, and finish my loun...
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beautiful

On the inside and the out, implies soulfulness, in the eyes of the beholder. I've been looking at women approaching 50, to see how they are ageing, and there tends to be a story in there, as much about how they live. A woman alone is not lonely. She may divorce, lose jobs, go through therapy, have children, be childless, but she knows herself and when seasons change, she heads off on her own adventure.  I had an amusing experience, a story I don't yet know how to interpret. I joined a friend at The Drones, Mess Hall were the support act, last seen at the Annandale, females in the girl's bathroom, singing along mimic style, replicating Jed Kurzel, offspring of Polish migrant parents, long moved on from north of Adelaide. Whilst listening to them, I stood at stage left, recognizing someone from my past, which is to say once I knew them, by sight and by name, now he's a stranger. Dennis Lillee moustache and flannel shirt, half ironic and I wish I could place him, to place ...
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Dressing gown

 I did myself a favour and booked a few nights away as a staycation, although my youngest invited himself along too, which was cute. We practiced basketball together, teaching him one handed bounce catching, and did some water colour painting and headed down to the creek together, just like we did at gilberton section of parra wirra, a few years ago. I wish my children would reverse age.  Today I caught the tram into the city to watch my eldest sing with his choir, they've branched out from jazz, to chamber songs, so that was quite enjoyable, and although it was in a baptist church, they did have nice stained glass, so that was cool too. 
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the old g

 This week things went more to shit, in relation to university studies, it really is fuckery on every fronts, not because of individuals (though some could be more sympathetic) but it's designed for people with disposable income and no dependents. My student partner flaked out this week and needed an extension, which is cool, but this was preceded by five days of radio silence, in which I sent messages without response (the one time I waited until 10am to tell them I had a sick child, was, however, treated as if I needed to sentence in the court of public opinion). Anyway, I said I was signing off tomorrow and going on holidays and they had one hour of my free time, and that's it. I need a break, it's not long enough, but I've booked into an overpriced airbnb (is there any other kind) and am going to try remembering what I used to do with myself, when being healthy, or in my own company. Read? Paint? Stretch out? I actually used to think I needed to do more or do postgr...
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maximus

 I took the kids to the memorial and we chit chatted to the people in attendance, not necessarily who I expected, but anyhow. I introduced my eldest to JB, who he liked for being a music dad and a member of the "albertones" music group, and for joking about the old Max and the new Max, "you haven't reached Maximus yet" (a long running gag, which involves me dreaming my son has moved away to study at university and still, the old Max is there, as his campus flat mate). When my son told him he played cello, JB admired it as being The Best instrument, even though his kid plays flute (and, in the background, he's practising to achieve the bpm that conductor, Sean, is hoping that quad S can achieve for tomorrow's ABODA concert).  In news update, my son's orchestra got a BRONZE, and my other son kicked his first goal in a footy match, these are the victories to celebrate (other things went a bit to shit, but we're all still alive).  I finished reading ...
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yay memory of old book

One or two years ago I was asking around for advice on recalling a long lost novel, I remembered reading before I'd had a second child, no-one knew what I was talking about, but the internet has got stronger, and wham, it was Kristopher Jansma's 2016 novel, "why we came to the city'. They're a literature professor who believes in writing what you know, I'm guessing their 1990s were a little bit preppie, a little bit goth.  Friday night I tossed up between last minute attendance at an xmas in july quiz night, or turning up at the elder hall biannual strings night for my son or staying home. Inertia won, meanwhile the youngest went out and played for the u9, they won, he's worked out his role, 'defence', tackling, handballing, scooping up the ball, as well as the whole pre-game ritual of listening to Thunderstruck and running out excited. Both kids want to resume tennis next term, and these are the things to support, if you have the resources.  The ce...
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one step forward one step backward

Still sad about my friend, listening to Plainsong wasn't necessary helpful, but also a bit cathartic, but then I did this thing, that I always do, why oh why, the comparative thing, when you realise the guy you rejected as being conceited/smug/boring is now married to a doctor/has a child who is a doctor/is a doctor. It's all the worse given that my friend wanted to be a doctor and almost got there, and it's such a brutal industry, but, for some, it bankrolls holidays in Japan and sailing every Saturday. I also, still, feel regret at not making it to a funeral two years ago, at a time when my self esteem was south, for what now seems irrelevant, but in turn, that helps me realise that we can let circumstance form the measure of us, and make decisions that are stupid (me-skipping a funeral; my friend-suiciding), when it doesn't matter. No-one that matters, minds. And those that keep their distance, are only human.  Work, aka placement, aka unpaid time that I will never g...
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