April 23, 2021

I hereby declare balcony season open too - it's warm enough to sit out there now when I get home from work:

Hallelujah! Looking forward to when it properly heats up and I can sleep out there. Which is really going to confuse the magpie neighbours.

After a cruisy couple of weeks where the only demanding thing I've had to do was attend daily meetings to thrash out the contents of a group presentation, suddenly it's game on - this weekend is going to be 100% hard work.

Tasks:

1) as a group, write and design a powerpoint for the 15 minute presentation

2) individually, write a 1000-word supporting document on some aspect of the topic covered in the presentation

3) individually, write four pretend blog posts in various styles linking what I've learned about crap like teamwork and critical thinking to the presentation

It wasn't possible to make a proper start on anything until the contents of the presentation were sorted, which only happened yesterday. Deadline's next Friday. Ugh.

Yesterday morning, I briefly enjoyed being at university. It was the session where we had to report back on our backyard anthropology projects, and it was fascinating hearing what everyone had come up with.

One of the two 18-year-olds went and sat in a graveyard and thought about how visitors behave there and why. The other considered the bizarre language and rituals they and their flatmates have developed since being locked down together in campus accommodation. 

The mother of two walked along a local heritage trail, hoping to strike up conversations with people along the way; but unusually no one she encountered wanted to chat, and she wondered if it was Covid-caution causing this reticence or her own expectations/nervousness about doing the project.

The young dad who lives on a rural commune went to interview the bloke who makes up the veg boxes he gets delivered, wondering about veg box trends and the reasons why people choose them. To his surprise, when they got chatting, he found that the veg box guy had had more or less exactly the same life experiences as him - gone to the same places, walked the same paths, literally and figuratively. Instead of veg box facts and figures, he came away profoundly moved by the weird synchronicity of the encounter.

And then there was me. I'd gone and sat on the rec at four different times of day, for about 15 minutes each time, just noticing how people used the space.

I noticed that people tend to congregate down the car park end. 

I noticed that the lads unthinkingly take up whatever space they need for their activities, whereas ladies tend to cluster.

I noticed that despite me thinking it was 'really crowded' from the safety of my flat, when I got down there and actually counted there were far fewer discreet groups than I imagined.

I noticed that, despite having this vast open space to walk on, almost everybody stuck to the paths that go around the edge.

I also noticed how stupidly excited I felt getting ready to go and sit on the grass, gathering notebook and pen and sunglasses and a bottle of water - as if I needed permission to be there. This in particular gave me much food for thought.

Our lovely tutor praised our half-baked efforts, managed to prise impressive academic spin out of it all, and made us feel like we were incredibly talented and wonderful. Which is what everybody needs to hear from time to time.

It was a good day.

Tomorrow, not so much.

Today's Photo: Magpie Chum Wondering Why There's A Human On Its Balcony