Once (but not just once) in In which our ignoble friend

Circles within spirals.

11 and a half (+change) years ago, I was waiting like I have been waiting. I was on holiday, early January 2005, with my family - we’d gone up round the bay to anglesea, were camping on a powered site in a caravan park, same as we had for maybe 4 summers. I remember sitting back from the beach, just over the fence from the tent, writing poetry which may or may not have been awful. Looking out over the gap in the river, the tide run out too far for it to reach. Thinking about what was to come.

We’d had to drive nearly an hour to a newsagent that was selling first printings of the day’s Herald Sun with first round offers. We got some diabolically bad fish and chips afterwards. I was stood in a queue with kids from the local high schools, chatting shit with each other. I spoke to the guy behind me, a bit; I think he was hoping for an unlikely in to something automotive, in Geelong. Industry’s probably gone now. I hope he got on OK.

Some little place called Grovedale. I think. Some place I went to once, that has this weird chunk of my history.

Walked back with the paper to the car (an ex. industry mitsubishi star wagon, 7 seats and not enough space for all our crap (can’t remember if we had the trailer yet.), pinned it to the bonnet and turned pages, trying not to let the wind rip the thing apart. The sun was starting to go down. It had been a hot day.

I found the line with my name, and the small print that told me I was going where I wanted, if I still wanted to. I told my dad, and he said he was proud of me. I think I smiled a bit more than usual. Not hard on those holidays though - the 6 of us, far from home, just helping each other and spending time with each other.

I think they probably made a bit of a fuss of me.

And sometime after, sitting alone, looking out over where the water should have been, at the gulls gliding into the wind, doing the difficult and precise work of going almost nowhere. I went home early, by train, to enrol. I got fleas. They were breeding in the dirt in the backyard, just outside the back door. (a few years later, I’d repave that patch as a present for my mum’s birthday. Jeremy helped. Later he broke up with my sister and her life fell apart.) We had to flea bomb the house. It didn’t really work out.

Today I live in England. I have a partner I love, and a few possessions I’m fond of. I’ve had about 10 different jobs, met more people in 3 years than probably my whole life prior. And today I found out that I’ve gotten into university again.

It sticks this time. One way or another.