The cult of Paul and the kindness of strangers

Last night Paul Keating was on LNL. I had just arrived in Duncraig and Norm and I were parked at the IGA to shop for dinner and it was hard to get out of the car and leave his voice on the ether. Our politics has degenerated so badly and no real statesmen seem to exist.
But more than a lack of respect for our political parties, what has occupied me of late is the kindness of both strangers, and people not so strange.
The first months of this year have passed mostly uneventfully...although the bad politics of the nation have also seeped into the workplace. From the fairytale beginnings I have shifted back towards the mother-hen-wing of the main building, and have realised that the team dynamic I was so in love with to begin with, was indeed an illusion and is, instead somewhat inbred and often burdensome.
But happily other parts of life have become full and satisfying, I am sporadically writing again and am featuring at Clancy's in August. For 20 minutes. Seriously.

I have also, in an effort to put a dent in my debt yet still keep my literary obsessions alive, returned to the library. And one of the first books I borrowed was a Helen Garner collection of non fiction stories.
What's home supposed to be, anyway?
She writes briefly and beautifully about belonging and about the onslaught of memories as we age, dragging us back suddenly and violently into a past we have no more access to. (I will refrain from quoting Gatsby)...
Has life taught them that it hurts too much to have the past thrust at you again and again, when it's gone, gone, gone?

It has been a luxurious week of having M home, and being, for a short time, like a normal couple. A normal, happy couple. M studied, I cooked, we ate together, hung out the washing together and watched crap tv while holding hands. I have felt domestic and truly happy.
Last night we had dinner at West End Deli with Steph and Matt - delectable company and fabulous food. I am feeling a tiny bit worse for wear, but who could resist Matt's own wine? It was a beautiful evening.

My running is crawling along in terms of distance but at least I've been consistent with training. And I'm swimming upwards of 1200m.
This weekend is the first Geelong game of the season, and the boys have been nice enough to pop over to Perth and play against the Dockers so I get to see them. I'm stoked that footy season is here again!

And, now in the second quarter of the year, after some very useful helpdesky help, I can blog much more conveniently. And more often.

Watch this space. Avidly.