My daughter has written her first post about how she is adapting to her new environs, separated from daddy for the first time in her life at the age of 16. To some people, such writing should be important, interesting and thought-provoking. I'd like the most decent and humane of my readers, old boys and girls especially, to write back to her telling her how they feel; it is sure to warm her heart.
Personally, I am trying to cope with enforced quasi-bachelorhood in middle age. Some people of the same age group and of both sexes have told me they envy me, but I don't think I am enjoying this at all. A kind of purgatory, at best, and the cheeriest thing I can think about it is that perhaps it is washing away a lot of accumulated sins! And though I am doing my classes with as much regularity, earnestness and cheerfulness (on the surface, that is) as ever, I am only looking forward to my mid-year break, which should be sometimes towards the end of this month.
It's the first of May.We are bang in the middle of the worst season of the year. After two successive years of roasting us, the weather gods have decided to give us a very muggy summer for a change. I could never decide which is the worse of the two...
One sad passing thought for now. As I must have said in some old blogpost, I have stopped routinely lending books to my pupils to read for a variety of reasons, but when some of them keep begging, and sound really earnest about reading a good book, I sometimes relent. Lately I have been finding out that all that eagerness is fake or a momentary enthusiasm at best: even if they insist that they have read the books, it takes them ages, and still when I quiz them afterwards, it takes me only minutes to discover that they haven't really read at all in my sense of reading. Of course, they routinely give the explanation that they have been busy. I suppose they are all sure that they are talking to the only man in the world who has nothing to do but read and think. I wonder what is worse here too - that most people don't read, or that some people pretend to?
OK for now. Remember, my daughter's latest blogpost.