Living Life Twice

As this is the last day of the Slice of Life Story Challenge for March 2011. it seems appropriate to focus on the word ‘last.’ I am conjuring up all those connections to ‘last.’ I am pleased that I was able to last the distance , to meet the challenge of writing and posting a writing slice every day, despite the all the other demands on my time. Because this is the last posting for the month I will miss the internal machinations of my sometimes scrambled mind as I ruminated on what to write each day. The rehearsal was continual. It was stimulating. Words and phrases tumbled around in my brain, like clothes in a dryer. I played with ideas until at last I settled on my script. Then I sat at the computer and the words spilled onto the screen. As I continue to ponder the meaning of last , I think of children being picked last for a team, The Monkees singing, Last Train to Clarksville . And then I think about lasting memories , last but not least, last one home’s a purple pig , the cal...

During the week I walk as often as my work schedule allows. On the weekends I walk each day. On a recent walking excursion as I walked with my wife, daughter and two dogs, we chanced upon something shiny on the footpath as we walked along the main street past the shopping precinct of our home town, Mornington. Jane stooped to pick up what we now identified as a two dollar coin. ‘Wow’ she said, ‘My lucky day.’ She made several unsuccessful attempts to pick up the coin and then a sad realization that the coin could not be pricked her balloon of joy. Someone in an inspired act of lunacy had super glued the coin to the pavement. What wickedness lurks on the idle minds of men?   We offered up a half laugh before continuing on our way. Was the perpetrator watching from a concealed vantage point? Were they chuckling away as successive passers by failed to lift the coin so steadfastly fused to the surface of the pavement?   The old super-glued coin trick! This was straight out of G...

Today I’m going bananas! Well, not literally, but bananas have been on my mind. You see, the cost bananas has skyrocketed here in Australian since Cyclone Yasi struck the state of Queensland ’s northern regions and decimated up to 80% of the nation’s banana harvest. The cost of bananas has rapidly reached $14 per kg in some places, or $4 each. As a consequence, many fruit lovers are holding off buying this perennially popular fruit. Who can blamed them? I have always loved bananas. You could say I have a bent for them, but that would be too obvious. Yet, in recent weeks as the price has steadily risen, I have had to be strong and walk past them in shops and supermarkets. I heard someone recently refer to bananas as God’s chocolate. Well, even with that noble label, I still can’t justify the purchase. So bananas are off the menu for the foreseeable future, which is sad. I know how good bananas are for my health. Bananas have a curious way of capturing everyone’s imagination.  ...

A small six year old boy came to visit with us on the weekend and during his time in our care, he is taken shopping. He returns beaming because he has a brand new pair of shoes. He also has a pair of rainbow coloured laces. The kind that announce themselves with colourful intent. He asks if the everyday laces that came with the new shoes can be removed and replaced with the dazzling rainbow laces. This wish is achievable.   The new cool shoes are now really cool shoes in the eyes of the wee one. He parades back and forth looking continually at his feet as he steps out like a fahsionista.  I tell him he is now a confirmed fashion icon. He smiles that slightly uncertain smile that kids do when an adult says something slightly beyond their world of awareness. He changes the focus. ‘My feet have grown Papa,’ he informs me, ‘And my old sneakers are too worn out for winter.’ ‘Well, these new ones look great.’ I add assuredly. New shoes always lift the spirits. New shoe...

Our little black dog, Boo has no concept of weekends, or sleeping in on Sundays. She understands when its morning and the blanket of the night has been drawn back. She certainly understands the basic concept of dawn. Round about 7.30am each and every morning her patience ebbs away and she begins what basically amounts to harassment.   Boo makes it patently obvious that she wants the people in her life to rouse themselves from slumber and take her for a walk. Walk is the word we dare not whisper. She raises from her bed and begins circling ours. We lie perfectly still in the hope that it will pass for sleeping. The dog is smarter than that.  She snorts and snuffles as she completes circuits of the bedroom. Each circuit requires her to travel beneath the bed not an easy thing to do, given its low clearance. Try feigning sleep when a small determined dog is buffeting your bed from beneath. So we succumb and throw on the necessary clothes to meet the uncertain morning air. Boo ro...

Summer Story Video Finally Completed!  Today, a Slice with a Digital Difference... This morning I finally finished my digital story! I have gradually assembled the pieces of the summer past into a form that hopefully conveys the spirit of the season. No matter where one resides, there are commonalities surrounding summertime. There are also events unique to our respective parts of the world. What I now share with you is a glimpse of my summer.   I wanted to tell the story of my Australian summer –what there was of it. A summer of record rain, gloomy grey skies the colour of bruises and the all too infrequent beach days. The days we naturally savoured. Sandwiched between these extremes were the unforgettable memories of precious moments spent with family and friends.  Each day I tried to find a scene, a moment, something seemingly unnoticed to freeze in time with my camera. The photogrpahic eye and the eye of the writer hopefully workin...

I had some great conversations with Grade 5 writers today. They were keen to share their writer’s notebooks and the various pieces that were forming across the pages of their notebooks. One girl informed me she was writing about her memories of the toys she had when she was younger. She opened her notebook and turned to a page which had the somewhat impressive title emblazoned across the top, - ‘The Headless Barbie.’ I then spoke with a boy writing a persuasive piece about the perils of smoking. The title was a very direct one, - ‘Smoking Should Be Banned.’   A third encounter revealed that the writer was working on a graphic novel concerning a boy who was part robot. No title yet, but the author informed me that he was not worried. The title would come to him as he wrote. I liked that fact that he was confident and relaxed about this anticipated development. He knew that the important thing was that he had an idea and was pursuing it. The title would happen in good time. Three d...

Our lives are often punctuated by routines and rituals… Every Thursday morning our alarm goes off at 5.20 am, a time well before sparrow’s fart (a quaint Aussie expression) and in the gloomy darkness Vicki and I commence the longest working day of our week. We aim to be on the road by 6.30 am. We drive from our home on the coast, 60 km south of the city, to schools on the western side of Melbourne . We join the morning commute and negotiate our way through the heart of the city and beyond. The Thursday trip takes between 75 and 120 minutes. We mostly take one car and attend separate schools within the same school network. At the conclusion of the working day we don’t drive home. Instead we regularly stay close to the city so that on Friday morning it only requires a short drive for each of us to work at two different schools. This routine enables us to support four schools over two days. On Friday we drive home. –A trip that usually takes about two  and a half hours. Everyone ...

This morning while in  my favourite coffee haunt, Via Boffe Vicki the barista asked me a question. With a look that suggested something was concerning her, she posed the question, ‘Alan what do think has happened to manners? Everyday, I encounter people who don’t seem to think it’s important to acknowledge your presence when you speak to them. When a customer comes in, I make a point of greeting them with a smile and a welcoming comment and some of them just ignore you. They don’t even make eye contact. They disregard your words and tell you ‘I‘ll have a skinny latte, or how much are they? -and point to something on display. It’s like you don’t exist.’ Vicki is consistently upbeat, possesses a welcoming disposition and a ready smile. In short she has impeccable social skills and is always friendly. She also makes a great coffee. She readily connects with peopIe, so I can readily understand her frustration when on a daily basis she encounters people who place a low value on c...

IGNITING WRITING -When A Teacher Writes Thank you to all those who have responded to the release of the book. Your comments and support are greatly appreciated. The publisher, Hawker Brownlow takes on line orders and shipping is available for local and overseas buyers. If you wish to place an order: Web: www.hbe.com.au Email: orders@hbe.com.au