Tuesday, a day to head north to Sippy Downs and enjoy the last few 'free' Tuesdays. In a few weeks, a colleague goes on leave and I'll be taking over her teaching: lectures and tutes on Tues to 9pm and repeat the dose at 10am on Wednesday, for about seven weeks. Well, it's a job.
|Colvinius, at 6.12am|
Next to that article was a stunning photo of the ocean pool at South Curl Curl, my grandmother's beach and one of three of my childhood: we learnt to love the water at Little Manly, went bodysurfing at Freshwater and swam in the pool and learnt to surf under my grandmother's watchful eye at Curlie. We also played lots of beach football and cricket down on the sand. It's a wonderful part of the world and I'm grateful that my 16yo self as well as my infant to 19yo self got to spend so much time there.
The trek to work thereafter was uneventful. Traffic was fine, weather not too bad. An awkward week in a way. It is a four day week because we have Easter upon us along with the 'mid-semester' break (about three weeks too early). I'm not sure how many students will turn up as the weekend draws closer. I'm due to continue teaching through until 9pm on Thursday. I guess there won't be an exodus of cars from the SunCoast to Brisbane that night...all the other way.
If my 16yo self could have known I'd be at a computer, on my desk, linking to Japan and China through a thing called the interwebs, at 6.12pm, I suspect my grandmother might have suspected I'd caught one too many waves and stayed out in the sun a bit too long. But there I was, viewing footage of protests of Japanese and Chinese nationalists over a small group of...barely islands, more islets, in the sea between the two. There's is a dispute over possible resources, and there is also much consternation over a re-emergence of another era of militarism. I hope it doesn't end that way. Perhaps, given my occupation, I just might be able to proffer a glimmer, a different approach. I never imagined that at 16...
|Planning lectures, at 6.12pm|
|Balanced lectures, at 6.12pm|
When I was 16, I wish I'd known my grandmother only had another three or four years, there'd have been much to talk about...and many more Manly premierships (and more near misses) to cheer. And I'd let her know that her condition, which I've inherited, has a much better prognosis these days...and I'd swap it all to spend on Saturday arvo with her again on the hill at Brookie Oval. Life at sixteen...wasn't so bad after all.