Last day of the year

It's the last day of 2020 here. It has been a unique year. 

Thinking back, I wanted to write. Not a retrospective. But a thank you note.

Thank you, 2020, for the chance to appreciate the leaves in the park. The flowers in the garden. The smell of cut grass -- over and over and over. The way the light moves through the bedroom window. 

Thank you for the time to spend with my family. Kind of. At least the parts of the time that weren't stolen by the endless zoom meetings. The boy did comment from the depth of the online-ness that we might be seeing even less of each other, as we huddled in our separate rooms and drained the life out of the internet. But there were more meals together. More walks. Thank you for the walks.

Thank you, 2020, for the excuse to exercise regularly and frequently again. When the rules only gave us 60 minutes outside per day, and only for exercise, I took all that 60 minutes and used it. Daily. 

Thank you, 2020, for strange but wonderful connections with family far away. For Zoom Yatzee, Zoom Scattergories, Zoom Telestrations. Zoom games. 

 

Thank you for a mother who mailed an envelope of hand made face masks when we needed them, all the way across the ocean. 

 And for a mother-in-law who mailed another box, when we mentioned we could use more. 

Mothers, we have gotten so much use out of those masks. Thank you so much. Thank you for the time, the postage, the thoughtfulness. You probably have no idea how big a part of our lives you have been in the last several months.

Thank you, 2013, for the chance to live in Australia, and 2014 for the chance to come back. And 2015 for making it happen. Thank you, Australia 2020, for making us Australians this year. Full time. Dual citizens. It is not a perfect country -- no country is. But it is a wonderful country. I am so lucky to be a part of it, to do what I can to make it better. Here, I have been stretched in ways that I never would have stretched had I stayed where I was. Thank you, 2020, I think? For the chance to take big steps up in leadership positions, to where I can help. To where I must help. 

Thank you, life, for sending me a child with a moral compass that is straight and true. One who was motivated enough to guide his own online learning, and needed to be reminded not to study, rather than the other way around. 

Thank you for that boy who changed his entire eating patterns, and those of his parents, earlier this year when he decided to take a stand against cruelty. He will go places, figuratively speaking. Sometimes I hope he will not physically go as far as I did from my own parents. But his choices will be his own.

Thank you, March 2020, for that run on the yeast in the grocery stores. And consequently, for sourdough bread. For a husband who learned to bake bread. 

Thank you, life, for that husband. For a life partner who makes me laugh every single day. Who stands next to me, not in front, not behind, hand in hand and side by side. There is no one I would rather spend my days with, over and over, same apartment, watching the leaves change and fall and grow again, scent of fresh cut grass, patterns of sunlight moving through the bedroom window, at his side.

Thank you, 2020, for perspective. 

Beach holiday!

It had been so long since we traveled that I had forgotten how annoying it is to prepare to travel. Packing and cleaning and booking the house and the car. Shopping. What are we going to eat? And does your swimsuit still fit? Don't forget to close all the window shades and lock the balcony door. 

Here is Jonathan waiting to drive away.

It takes 1.5 hours to drive all the way out of the outer suburbs of the city. Then another hour to get to our destination. We saw an echidna crossing the road. 

And then upon arrival, there was no power. 

A few trucks from the power company came and spent several hours trying to get it back on. 

By 11pm, after I had given up and was brushing my teeth in the dark using my own water bottle (tank water requires power to activate the pump), the power came on! We turned it off and went to bed. 

Day 1 of vacation:

We followed a path through the neighbourhood that turned out to lead over the sand dunes to the ocean. 

Not a super warm ocean. But ocean. 

Back to our rental house again for lunch, then a drive to the grocery store, and out again for sunset. Lots of kangaroos out in the fields at dusk.

It doesn't sound like much but it was over 20,000 steps. 

Day 2:

Boogie boarding! The beach was patrolled in the afternoon, but watch out for the rip currents on either side of the patrolled area. And the water is frigid. I was the only one in our family to get into the water. And it was fun fun fun! But I was shivering for hours after. 

I warmed up enough to go out for another sunset walk. Gorgeous. 

And walking back to our rental house, we saw wombats. Wombats live in this neighbourhood.

Day 3: A morning hike. 

Yellow jewel beetles and a kangaroo.

To the point!

We were supposed to go boogie boarding again in the afternoon, but the beach wasn't patrolled, and I was still cold. 

So we read books and played board games and watched movies instead. 

Day 4: Rain. Rain rain rain rain. Pouring rain all night and all morning. There was a gap in the rain in the afternoon, so we took a walk. 

I wore my swim suit, but it was too cold. I couldn't get in the water. I couldn't do it. 

Day 5: Merry Christmas cherries.

And more movies and books and sunsets. Silver and green and pink. But still no swimming.

Day 6: River walk. I finally got a little sun on my nose and throat.

After the walk, we took Jonathan back to the beach and made him dip his feet in the water, because he hadn't yet. And he liked it! He did. Still too cold for swimming, though. But not too cold to look for clams, chase the waves, lie in the sand. 

Gulls. Pied oystercatchers. Ravens. Wattle birds. More wombats in the evening. Around it all, we snuggled up with the TV for Christmas movies and carols by candlelight. On TV.

Day 7: Pack up, clean up, drive home. Back to traffic. Figure out how to fill up the rental car with petrol on a major holiday. (No problems. Half the city is out driving and needs to fuel up.)

Home by afternoon. Presents. Chocolate! Merry Christmas, home.

Merry Christmas, everyone.

The end of the school year

Here in Australia, the school year has ended. Summer holidays run from here through all of January. And the wildest thing is that next year is the boy's last year in school. And the wilder thing is that you, Reader, were here for his very first day of kindergarten. I re-read the story of Jonathan's first day of kindergarten, to find the link for this post, and wow. That was not a great year. I think this year, 2020, also will go into the record books as not a great year, what with closing and then reopening and then reclosing and then reopening.... I'm hopeful that next year, Jonathan's last year of school, will be a good year, whatever that even means. Years have a way of just stacking themselves up, experience upon experience, and somehow you have built a life and a career and you have a few grey hairs and your baby boy is six foot four inches tall and finishing high school. 

But guys, I am so glad it isn't 2008. That was a really awful year. 

One really nice outcome of the pandemic is that the school awards night was pre-recorded and posted on YouTube, released at 7:00pm on a Friday night. We popped some popcorn and relaxed on our comfy sofa to watch.

(So much better than last year, when we waited for an hour to go into the auditorium, and then waited another half hour, and then sat through about 100 musical numbers, and then 50 talks, and then the awards, and then photos, and then another hour to get out of the auditorium, and then an hour to go home on the public transit. YouTube for the win!)

Happy summer vacation, world. 

Working with a balcony

It turns out that summertime is a nice time to work from home. 

We have a small balcony out the bedroom, that has been a little too cold to use until very recently. Very recently, I have taken advantage of the small balcony when I can. 

 

Pretty, isn't it?

It isn't all sunshine and rainbows. You have to sweep it really well before use, or your socks turn black, and you tread spiders back into the bedroom when you come inside. 

And it isn't very private: twelve different apartments have balconies overlooking the same bit of grass and trees, so unless you want them all listening in, it's not a super great place for online meetings. 

But in the summertime, it smells wonderful to be outside, and feels wonderful to feel a breeze on your skin, to hear birds in the branches nearby during your seminar.

A balcony is yet another reason to be happy to still work from home.