|Storm front at 5.55pm|
|Still reading something|
fishy, at 6.12am
While I was pruning, I remembered how, as a student, I used to head to the squash court to belt out my frustrations and landing on that seemingly never-ending plateau of language-learning; the way in which, no matter how much time you spent on studying, learning, remembering, reciting, writing, recalling...some days it would never sink in. My tutors at the time promised I'd get it eventually. I didn't believe them but I'm glad I stuck with it. The pain was worth it, and now I tell my students--stick with it, you'll get it eventually. They probably don't believe me either.
|The lightning flashed, at 6.12pm|
Everything feels better after a spot of gardening. Throughout the afternoon we received warnings of a likely thunderstorm but I wasn't too worried. I got back to work, reading and writing and short breaks with the cricket and Angry Birds.
But the storm hit and what a storm. A fitting end, or beginning, to the week...at 6.12pm, it was at its height and in the darkness of the moment, the lightning flashed, the thunder roared...and we got to watch it all over again.
What awaits us in this week ahead...?