10 March 2012

seven days

They say a week is a long time in politics. And football.

My family goes months and nothing much happens. This week is the usual seven days long but a year’s worth of events unfolds.

My sister and her husband buy a magnificent house for $830K. My son and his partner Katie finally get the kiss of approval from an estate agent for a rental in Carrum Downs. Mo tells me he has saved a sixth of a deposit to buy a house in two months since resuming work after their round-Australia trip.

My mother falls down steps while inspecting my sister’s new house and, according to my sister, is miserable. I speak to her several times on the phone and while I hear her pain, she seems chirpy enough. I visit and she seems OK. When I take my leave in the late afternoon, she almost implores me to stay for dinner.

My daughter, touring Tassie, ends up in hospital after a tick bite undergoing tests for Lyme disease. My grand-daughter has a foot, mouth and hand rash. Gemma rings early while eating breakfast on the bank of Lake St Clair. She’s fine, she says. So is Nerri; it’s just teething, eye teeth, and her resistance drops when she’s got new teeth coming through.

I go to Ballarat to organise some training I’ll present, work on the templates project, and land a paid job on Friday.

My back and buttock pain finally disappear all but completely. I return to the gym for three early morning classes—two pump, one spin. And Rock hops back on his bike, broken rib OK, torn shoulder ligaments under sufferance. We set a record slow time up the One-in-Twenty but our only aim is to get to the top.

After everything else, it’s enough.

Rock on.

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