She's on the mountains and I'm on the plains, we want to slow down.

I'm here in April, but I'll go back 6 weeks. Work wrapped up, I had leave, youngest settled into his new school, learn to ride a bike, days spent cycling to and from school, lying under the trees, feeling the air. 

Studies resumed and this year's cohort are my people. One has a sister who learnt to roller skate to be lead in Xanadu, he's watched the film and loves it. Another moved around with her family, including Tassie and NT. My placement partner came to my house and we did Picasso portraits, another day when we caught the train, we persuaded a classmate to join on the back of my e bike, the three of us cycled around the campus like BMX bandits. 

Now it's getting real, as new old job has a deadline by September that will be a lot of work with no room for error, study starting to pile up-all in my range of ability, but I like to fret. 

Tennis lessons wrapped up, youngest did get better, playing soccer and football next term and selected for specialist art after school, yay, free babysitting, more art, win win. Eldest still playing drums in his three-piece pop band and recruited to play keyboards by a drummer at band camp. His first orchestra performance was the best, thanks to his conductor who achieved a lot in one term and he's getting As with zero input from me, whilst in the throes of teenage love and a gruelling music schedule. The principal wants to celebrate him on school media, so have to take a photo in school uniform, which obviously isn't going to happen soon as he's outgrown that phase of wearing uniform in holidays. 

Then it was Gather Round, Presets free but clashed with Doc's 80th, but we went to a kids clinic, youngest wore Richmond top under his club top and grabbed a pale blue linen suit jacket as a third layer, had me trying to work out who was the guy that talked to me at Womad, during the BBNG gig. 

The guy was tall, curly hair, very avant garde side part, wearing a pale blue linen jacket, Miami Vice, asked what I thought of the sax line. I have never been asked that question, though I've attended school performances and Generation in Jazz, so I answered Good Good Not Bad, and he asked if I'd liked them last year, a write off thanks to my son, how they'd sold out Hindley Street Music Hall, he'd seen them in the States, they were 'friends', I said 'oh, good thing you say nice things about them", wondering what fanboy follows his band overseas and the face is a memory that won't be retrieved with recognition. 

Womad was good, I went on the Monday when Arrested Development headlined, did not stay for them, saw Nick the Greenie working, taking me back to when he was my bar supervisor and I had such a crush, because he was 27 to my 20, and a man of the world having left Tasmania for Adelaide via UK but also said communism was dead and socialism would survive and I presciently corrected him then. 

My friend introduced me to Marlon Williams who she knew, along with Georgia Knight, I said "oh, my friends love you and after I watch you perform, I'll love you too" and I did, but it turns out he's taking an indefinite hiatus. He recommended BBNG, I watched Georgia Knight, playing with a great drummer, keyboardist and a guitarist who wore his shirt unbuttoned in a way that suggested he was (feeling) HOT HOT HOT.  Bumped into book club work friend, sitting with two kids I wrongly assumed were hers and a guy I assumed was an architect, and her partner, but he wasn't though he is. She wanted to know how I got VIP passes to Pulp, admitted the Jules connection, the embarrassing level of freebies, that it was all people associated with politics and arts scene being seen. She said Pulp was okay, from the punters section, I said I preferred them at the Enmore in Sydney, dancing and meeting people who'd had the good sense to buy tickets two nights in a row! 

A few weeks ago I bumped into her at the coffee brew, and she introduced me to a work mate I'd never seen in the six months we'd worked in the same building, black and red flannel shirt exactly like the fictional substitute teacher in the short story I've bravely given her to read; I asked if he had an interesting life before he got his PhD, and he used to be a tradie, made me feel better about being an well-educated over thinker that gets fatigued from two days in the office. 

Swam every day over Easter and not at all the past week; went walking with my neighbour. then stopped; haven't seen oldest friend since New Years Day, limited birthday celebrations to family members; avoided Fringe/Mad March; cried about the people that get promoted to executive office. 

In less high stakes, decided salt and pepper squid, marinated tofu, miso soup and stewed plums are yum, rode my e bike on its top setting sadly reducing exercise benefits, watched Sharp Objects, first TV in aeons, unless Bluey counts, got a nice email from an Aquarian I turned down because he wanted to go into politics, saying he couldn't wait to retire (like he realised, 25 years later, I was right). 

Also, an email from a pen pal, acknowledging fondness for doll houses, and the mystery of once being 30 with confidence and disposable income. Our neurons once tracked each other on campus, then we left, two females on the Aquarius/Pisces cusp, by 30 living in mountain towns, now neurodivergent mature age mothers, we've gathered similar moss in life that isn't an audition. From visiting Trinity Campus, UNSW, Sydney or more recently Flinders, I'm intrigued by rectangles, how female academics dress the same, male academics get whiplash over youth, the life force. When I was tutoring, the advice I ignored at my own cost, was to take my time returning to the grind. Here I am, later, listening.