I bought an apartment at the start of May. Settlement was expedited to fit in with other people’s dates, so suddenly I had keys and to get all my boxes and furniture transferred within a week or so.

In two weeks’ time, I have a week’s holiday. I booked it because that was when I would be moving house. I am going to snuggle under the covers for a few days and recover from the whirlwind.

My home and work calendar had written across these six weeks, since I realised in November last year how busy I would be, “Here be Dragons. Intensive Teaching. Do not book anything else”.

Mainly everything in my new place is in wonderful condition and I am so very happy here.

But, for the last three weeks I have been using these sophisticated tools…

… to fix this….

…by pushing it back into the roof.

Then it began fizzing and buzzing yesterday.

So, three or so weeks after moving into a new place, before I had a list of things to mend, I had a handyperson out today to put wood into the ceiling to firmly attach the appliance back in place.

And …I just bought a new phone this evening.

My six year old iPhone SE finally checked out as I was trying to use it to pay for dinner a couple of weekends ago. Or at least the battery started sulking every time it needs to go for more than a couple of hours without charging – plummeting from 35% to 1% within seconds.

The replacement, refurbished, same vintage model in “excellent” condition that I ordered the night my phone broke arrived last week. With a far worse battery than my current phone. So broken that the settings screen advises the battery needs servicing. I gave in and will return it for a refund and stop living like its 2016.

The week before that, I had my front door lock drilled out by a emergency locksmith, and a new lock put in. I had locked myself out (complete with unwell cat in carrier, late to the vet, remedied by Ubering). This is a very secure building, so no breaking in to my apartment was possible. I had it on my to do list to give a spare key to the nice neighbour, but hadn’t worked my way down to that bit yet.

So, after unexpectedly spending several thousands of dollars over a week or so, I have a bathroom ceiling fan, a door lock, a phone and a cat who needs lots of extra hugs and time. Oh, and new glasses. Because, of course, it was really essential that those new glasses I had ordered three weeks beforehand would arrive and need to be paid for in the same week.

I already had a fan, lock, phone, cat and glasses before I spent that much. At least now I know they can’t possibly need more fixing. Right? Right?

One of my cats now needs very small frequent feeds.

I like to sleep in the mornings.

Sometimes, I even leave the house.

Solution? One of these.

I’ve had it for a few days.

You cannot set it up without creating a recording to play before food is dispensed, even if it is just white noise.

It took the cats a couple of days to work out that me calling them meant food.

The first day, after the second time it went off, they stayed in the same room. All day. Watching it and waaaaiting.

Now they are so used to it that the one with the appetite issues just looked up at me at noon, with an ”again?” kind of look on her face.

They are used to me calling now though. I just played the little movie above, and two very confused animals searched the sofa to try to find the trickle of dry food.

It’s Week 10 of the 10 week study period. I had the last Zoom session with one of my classes this evening. I usually invite students to do two things.

Number two is to give feedback on “keep, change, chuck” to help the next lot of students. So, let me know what works and what does not.

We do get anonymised survey feedback from students, that I try to implement as much as possible, but I literally often get comments one right after the other to the effect ”The best thing about the course was the xyz. It was essential and I really appreciated it. This is the best course I have ever taken” then, ”This course is full of xyz. There should be none. It is the worst course I have ever taken”. Asking for feedback from students as a group can help me get a vibe about where others sit on the comments, or to ask questions to make sure I understand what they mean.

CC-BY-SA-4.0 From Jamesbond Raul https://commons.m.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:A-haVistalegre19.JPG#mw-jump-to-license

The first thing I invite students to do in our last class together is to share an ”Aha!” moment. Something where they realised they had always done one thing, but another approach would be easier, or a concept gelled, or they learned something brand new.

My courses are imbued with reflective practice, so this is another way that students get to think about their own progress. I hope that they are reminded of the wonder of learning, but also that they see how far they have come specifically, that their hard work has in some way helped them. I also am very open to this being the catalyst for them to realise they are not really getting as much as they thought out of the degree. I also value what students can learn from each other. Hearing about other students’ aha moments, whether they are very similar or totally different, contextualises their own experience in a new way.

Let’s not kid ourselves though. It’s mainly for me. About 15 or so years ago, when I was running classes in creating avatars at Murdoch Uni, I recognised that one of my strongest motivators professionally is opportunity to help, and be part of, someone else’s ”AHA!” moment. Nothing compares. I know what I would like people to be getting out of their experience, and this lets me know whether I am on track. It also reminds me that what I think is important or meaningful about what I do probably is not the only thing happening.

Back two years ago, I posted a picture of my car’s fuel gauge, with the title ”Not running on empty” .

I was making the point, then remarkable, that I last bought petrol around 80 days previously. I had only really driven the car on a round trip in and out of the city to try to recharge the flat battery.

Same, same, same this year… except the reason for the lack of driving is because I am IN the city. Most essential places – medical, social, exercise, shopping are more easily walked to than driven to.

My analogy about myself from two years ago just doesn’t fly now.

For the first year or so of the pandemic, I did get a chance to refuel, as I pointed out two BlogJunes ago. I was working half-time, not as a university lecturer. I was getting more sleep, more exercise and had far less on my to do list. I was coming to terms with the joys of not trying to maintain a social life. I had permission to just potter about at home, making my garden very wonderful, and not feel terribly isolated nor lonely as I had always feared would happen if I didn’t force myself to get out more.

Now in the third year of the pandemic, I am glad that I was able to refuel then. The opportunity was one of privilege. Now I still consider myself to be living an incredibly privileged life. My tank, however, feels pretty empty. I still have opportunity to sleep well, eat well, exercise well and socialise at an amount that suits me. I try to take advantage of that. But less successfully than at the start of the pandemic.

Like everyone around me, I seem to have far less resilience. It takes far smaller obstacles to throw my plans out. I have less energy or tolerance to pick myself up, dust off, and keep going. I feel like I am absorbing the collective misfortune, frustration and stress of those around me. Hearing of workplaces with 40% of staff off sick, or seeing yet another student ask for an extension due to three kids with COVID, seeing events cancelled, trips postponed, people uneasy about gatherings where we would have all happily mingled and hugged… Then feeling, maybe, guilty. I am not going through it – so shouldn’t I just feel relieved and grateful and make the best of where I am at, instead of just being incredibly tired out by it?

It feels like we are all part of an interconnected system of depleted energy. Like people (and by ”people” I mean me) are saying ”enough” far earlier when something is challenging or needs extra effort or even regular effort.

In previous years I have been excellent at getting out every little bit of effort I have – and then more – to get done what needs doing.

Maybe, just maybe, that was totally whack?

After years and years and years of running too fast and using every single bit in my tank, this is Stage Two of ”Just Slow Down and Things Will Be Better”.

2020, Stage One, gave me chance to pause and feel what it was like to take things slower and reap benefits. Some of it stayed with me. Never, ever, will I feel bad again because I said no to going to a party. It’s OK for parties to just not be my thing. I know how important it is to surround myself with the green and growing.

2021 was a chance to move interstate and change almost everything about my life. I put in heaps of effort to adapt and do what was needed to establish a new life and a new job…doing almost two lives’ worth of stuff as I just kept going and going and going, through nobody’s compulsion but my own. ”No” and ”help” and ”enough” should have featured more in my vocabulary.

2022 is the year I realise that the effort of 2021 (and pre-2020) is not sustainable. Not through sensible and clear insight. Just because my Superpower of Silly and Stupid Efficiency deserted me when my tank ran empty again. No dramatic breakdown or anything like that. I just left things undone that I thought I could do, because I managed to do similar last year, and in many years before. As everyone else around me also reached capacity. And many are falling over.

So, instead of relying on tanks of fuel, that fluctuate upward and downward, I need to find a walking track. Slide on some good walking shoes, or even meandering shoes, and take things far more slowly. Cover less distance, slower, but more sustainably. No parties, but more sunshine and birdsong. No running. Just a good, steady pace.

May 2023 be the year of the appropriate and superfluous sit down. Where I learn more about stillness and rest.

For now, one step at a time.

Con started it. , sharing a pic of what got her through this very, very Wintery start to June.

She also pointed out that you could guess her cultural background from her preference.

My coffee table is full of immigrant experience. So is my pantry.

South Australia is about 95% similar to the south west of Western Australia where I spent my first half-century. Every so often, however, I will look up and see a huge dark shape flitting across the night sky and think “BAAAAAAAAAT HOLY HECK!”, while everyone else around me is calm, collected and going about an unremarkable evening. Or some strange grey bird will hop on the pavement and I will have no idea how it will move next, or what it will sound like.

I have been deliberately embracing and exploring that 5% of unique and discombobulating strangeness when I can.

Which is how I ended up scoffing Fru-Chocs this evening.

And why my pantry has an almost-empty packet of South Australia’s own ”Nonna’s Big Biscuits” . Yes, I bought them mainly for the name and provenance. If I was a tiramisu maker, they probably would have ended up as that.

I could be wrong here, but I don’t recall W.A. having anything so wholesome associated with it? Lots of fabulous boutique beers and wines… but comfort foods??

I must be wrong here, but anyone know any?

VALA 2022 conference is the week after next.

You should go.

So should I.

I’m not.

I attended every one for the last decade, and presented at most. I had to think hard, research, enquire, open myself up to scrutiny, learn to be a designer and work a stage. Bloody good professional development.

My underwear and shoe drawers are richer for the experience… I seem to only buy them when I travel interstate to this kind of event.

I get to see people I know, meet people I didn’t. Force myself into a far more forward and social space than I am comfortable with. (I am still unsure just how to DO a canape event…). Find so very, very many people who think about the same things I spend my work days thinking about, who are motivated to solve the same problems using a similar set of tools and values. Really enjoy introducing two people who I KNOW will be on the same wave length, but don’t know it yet.

There were also satellite events held either side VALA to take advantage of everyone being in town. The Research Support Showcase days. I helped organised several GLAMR unconferences the weekend after some VALAs. Often Australia Preserves, the community around digital preservation in the GLAM sector.

In 2020, as well as those kinds of events, I also spent a day learning about running workshops around helping adults and kids understand how to stay healthy when doing a lot of eSports (A. Adults could chill, try to understand, communicate. Kids could do regular mental health things in the fresh air. Game together. Walk together). I also managed to see complete Harry Potter and Cursed Child production in one night, one of the last times before it shut down for over a year.

I love catching up with people for coffee and brekky and dinner and… for the last four? six? years to go on a whisky crawl and gin crawl with snail and Gareth. Who not only know the beverages. They want to share what they know. Communicate about the subtlety of ingredients and processes and histories. Hearing them talk about it on Twitter was when the FOMO started.

VALA 2020 was the last big event I went to where I remember life feeling normal. Even THEN I had researched P2 masks and had a ten pack with me. Nothing to do with what was around the corner with the pandemic, and everything to do with being an asthmatic flying into one side of the country that was still on fire. I could still buy the masks in Western Australia, although the entire East coast was sold out. I remember one morning thinking it was pretty smoky, so I should probably slip one on…. but NOBODY else was wearing one, so I think it stayed on for about five minutes before social conformity got to me.

I really am totally absolutely flat out at the moment so could not go , but ALSO, I am not sure how I would go with a new VALA right now. Normal is gone. All those wonderful things, replaced with new wonderful things… but I am not sure I would be ready to remake my impressions and memories to fit that just yet.

Maybe I have FOGO? Fear of Getting Out into a newly made world?

This is Chiba.

Today I found out she is very, very unwell.

I have a few decisions to make.

I am very sad.

No more blogging tonight.

I pat the cat.

The cat pats me.

Seems fair. pic.twitter.com/xQvF8BS0He

— Kathryn Greenhill (@Infoventurer) November 21, 2021

It’s the first week of the Study Period, which means the first Zoom session with a new class. It’s not only about giving students’ brains an outline of the subject, and providing a practical walkthrough of the online site.

Whatever I say or do in that first session will help them to work out whether they can trust me, whether I can support their learning, whether I have unreasonable expectations, whether I will help them see perspectives they did not consider, will share freely or even whether I will be boring and ramble. (SPOILER ALERT: All of the above).

I am doing three different sessions for three different courses this Study Period. Today was the intro for students just starting in the degree who probably had not been in my class before. Tomorrow it is with a lovely and engaged bunch, the majority who just completed a course with me last study period. They will know most of my party tricks and greatest hits already (like “ I will give you lots of instructions about the things I DON’T care about, so that where you make the choices is the thinky work that we all care about”). I still need to explain the basics for students who have not completed my courses before… but what do we do, all pretend it is fresh?

As I gear up for introductory sessions with new students in a new Study Period, usually two scenes from films keep haunting me. Because I am nothing like them… really….although it is really tempting to tell students that they will have to pay for their degrees in SWEAT! ..

The first is from Alan Parker’s 1980 movie Fame, following the school years of high school kids at New York’s School of Performing Arts. The dance teacher outlines her expectations of her class.

The second, from James Bridge’s 1973 The Paper Chase, which follows law students through Harvard. The professor launches into an explanation of how his classroom runs, insults his students, and condescendingly tells them they will never have the right answer… Which is way, way away from what I would dream of doing…

Except, except….watching it back for the first time in forever, some of his ideas, some of the ideas about learning, are actually very similar to what comes out of my mouth, and I genuinely think this clip… first seen when I was in primary school (OK… it was a TV series too) has influenced my educational philosophy. Eeeep!

I don’t use the Socratic Method, where I ask questions on question on question to show up students’ lack of knowledge… but “I am helping you to learn how to teach yourself this subject”, and “you will learn how to ask questions” , “if you come out thinking there is far more to find out about, then we will have been successful”, and “my aim is for you to come out thinking like a l…ibrarian” all cross my lips during my intro sessions. I do not, would not, tell students, however, that they are coming in with a skull full of mush.

But these two clips make me feel like the Zoom sessions this week are kind of portentous, like I should make it a meaningful and memorable transition into something new and exciting and different …. like I will only be doing it right if I go big, set a stern and stony face, scare instead of inspire and enunciate. Every. Word.

Note to self: these commencement sessions are ONLY done right if your hands are kept totally still and clasped together, either behind your back or wrapped around a very big stick.

Busy day today, so just sharing a movie of Chiba imitating a dolphin this afternoon.

(You need to click to make the movie appear in most browsers)

The story is a little more grisly. A pigeon on the neighbour’s roof, so she was practicing her death bite by moving her jaws in the way she would, if only it would come closer.

(Or maybe she was frustrated or excited )