Monday, July 28

 It's a bleak day in Longford; the sky is lowering and there's neither sound nor sense of any life in the vicinity.  Our inclination is to 'batten down the hatches' and avoid going out for any reason.  I love that world 'lowering'.  The first syllable is pronounced like 'cow' so the word has more to do with frowning than dropping down.  It's one of the words which has nearly disappeared from English because people misunderstand its true meaning

Jamie and Nera drove back from Hobart las night and, as always, popped in to pick up Archie,.  Again, as always, they brought back some of the particular goodies which we can't get in Launceston.  Some of them are particular filipino delicacies which Nera relishes.

While they were away, I was able drive my car for the first time for weeks.  Having Brendan staying with them has put a real burden on Jamie to drive him to and from his study and the ever-increasing jobs he was being offered.  Many of Brendan's jobs were in Deloraine so it was a 100 Km round trip, twice a day, to get him to and from.  It wasn't sustainable so Jamie agreed to let Brendan take his car and he, Jamie, would borrow mine.  I agreed, knowing that Jamie would always make sure that Marilyn and I would be driven to and from wherever we needed to go.  This past weekend, when Jamie and Nera were in Hobart, my car was in its garage for the first time in weeks.

It was strange to get behind the wheel again but I know it won't last.  Until Brendan can save enough money to buy himself a vehicle, mine will always be common property.

POSSESSED                                                                                    JUNE 19^th 2020

I was a bit of a loner at school. I was shy and not very sporty and found it difficult to make friends in the rough and tumble of the playground.  I did try, though, making a special effort with any new kid who turned up but, as soon as they had found their feet, they were off to the more satisfying social life with the in-crowd, although I didn’t hear that term until years after I had left school.

There was one exception to this pattern.  A new girl appeared one morning.  The headmaster brought her to the classroom door and I thought he looked a little more flustered than usual.  He told us the girl’s name was Amy and we were to make her welcome. She was not wearing school uniform, I noticed and her dress was a bit too long and she had laced-up boots on.  Her dark hair was in two pigtails and she didn’t smile, even when we all chorused, ‘Hello, Amy.”  I also noticed, through the window, her mother as she left after her meeting with the headmaster.  She was not like any of the other mothers.  She also had very dark hair, and was dressed in dark clothes and she didn’t look, well, motherly.

I don’t want to suggest that Amy and I became friends but we were both misfits in that particular school so we did find ourselves spending a bit of time together.  I think Amy was only at that school for about 6 months and she didn’t seem to get into a lot of trouble in that short time. But, she certainly had the teachers spooked. For some reason, they were very wary of Amy, and often suggested she might like to have a break, or visit the library or go for a walk during a lesson.  Her mother also came to the school a lot.  I don’t know whether she chose to come or was called in by the headmaster but she certainly spent more time talking to him than any other parent.

We also had more visits from the police around that time, and often we saw important-looking people in Department of Education cars coming in to the school.  There seemed to be an outbreak of illness among the teachers who more often took days off and one of my favourite teachers took early retirement.  After school one day, I saw a Catholic priest arriving to attend the staff meeting.

I didn’t understand what was going on; it was all a bit strange but I suspected that much of the discussion was about Amy.  Nobody told me anything, of course, but if they had asked me I could have told them a few things.  Like the fact that cats seemed to be attracted to Amy and would follow her down the street, rubbing themselves against her legs.  Or that dogs seemed frightened of her and would cower when she passed by.  Or that I had seen her in the distance one afternoon with a crow sitting on her shoulder.

I could tell them about the time that one of the other girls told Amy she was weird and Amy just stared at the girl and, as I watched, the tyres on the girl’s bike went flat. Most importantly, I could have told them that there seemed to be something odd about Amy’s eyes.  It was like looking through the window of a house and seeing something moving behind the curtains, like a cat or a bird.  But something slimier and sneakier than a cat or a bird – more like a rat or a snake.

But they didn’t ask me, because I was only a kid.