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 cello performance went well, apparently, he played first cello, sang etc, but I've seen it so many times as to not get excited enough, even though I'm well aware these victories don't last long. I'd gone in earlier that day to the primary school teacher interviews, the best one was in science, they had a sun catcher sticker on the door and I most want that, more than anything, the science teacher seemed nice, calm, and my son seems to be engaged and producing problem solving work, like dreaming up a habitat for fictional creatures if the weather conditions change. 

Saturday I trekked up the hill to see an exhibition that I'd confirmed my friend Megan was going to, but she turned up later, I arrived early, my hairdresser was there, as was a friend of a friend, actually in the exhibition, as were a family in support of the mother-artist-partner looked like a 1970s cerebral academic and their two boys looked like the offspring of the Tenenbaum family, they were so fascinating I wanted to interview them, and find out all, but I had to be polite, I even felt embarrassed discussing cello in front of them, even though they are probably all eccentric geniuses, I got that vibe. It wasn't coy, or precocious, they had literally got dressed up fancy for an art exhibition in a way that looked incredibly retro and preserved. Amazing, I wish I had photos (maybe they posed for the socials?). Also there was Giles, of long ago proscenium days, now has a neat grey long bob, or a lob, as Victoria Beckham would call it, he knew my friend of a friend and was performatively praising her art, but I have a feeling I was being performatively enthusiastic too, so I shouldn't judge, but he was so performative he yelled out 'Go Amy" whilst standing on the upstairs balcony as she assembled on the downstairs grass area. Performative or just very supportive? I don't know; he was with the bearded Jeremy, and then they headed off, super enthusiastically swapping catch up future plans, and then Megan and I told Amy why we liked her work, which was quirky and intelligent interpretation of the theme (biscuit) with a bit of climate anxiety twist. Her Mum, was a well-preserved silver fox too, and I found out that Amy, like me, was off at boarding school from Year Eight, but perhaps encouraged to be true to her authentic self... in a way that I never felt safe to embrace, but now I can tell, that was my home life, more than anything. 

Also funny, is I found out a person at my current workplace, is the grand-daughter of old family friends, she's funny and composed and sincere and kind, and a credit to her very nice family, that were equally into tennis as football, and communtiy service and church on a Sunday, but no more religion than that, one hour is enough. I was pleased to learn she was fond of her grandparents, who are still alive.