Inside - out

School holidays as I vividly recall generally contained at least a week at holiday-camp; spent amongst a cabin of smelly boys, a particularly brave "team leader"; and, the occasional, rather alive eel in your sleeping bag if you weren't careful. I remember every night eight boys on the top bunks with their ears pressed hard to the cold concrete wall at lights-out; listening to the girls talk absolute nonsense on the opposite side of the sleeping quarters, just in case a familiar name was mentioned. Although, the walls were so thick if ever one was heard, to make out whether it were being used in an endearing context, or one that was not at all so; came down to who's name it was being mentioned and then by general consensus amongst those of us eavesdropping.

The other weeks of school holidays I remember, began with a very tedious ten hour bus trip... and then ended with a very tedious ten hour bus trip. Although, the in-between was filled with glorious days of creativity with my Nanna, as she nurtured my artistic passions; painting my first oil painting; sketching in all different shades of pencil grey; building sculptures out of femo; or secretly exploring all of the corners of her and Grandpa's house or mysterious garden, I'm assuming when I had completely worn their poor old bodies out.

I now face school holidays from a different perspective. As a parent.

The first few days of these current school holidays were spent looking longingly out the windows at the never-ending, solid grey sky, heavily dowsing our freshly mowed lawn, that was awaiting transformation into our very first vegetable patch. Holidays can be challenging at the best of times, but when a wall of water prevents even leaving the front door, the challenge must be approached in a far more carefree and creative sense.

 

So we got to work. The little man designed his 'super-suit', and used his fancy new writing skills to make lists of the qualities and abilities that his super hero persona would have; and I got to use my fancy new writing skills to write essays about politics. And he though he was lucky.

We read books, played chess, baked bread, strummed instruments, watched some good action flicks, and then banged our heads together when nothing else seemed to be satisfying. 

That was until....

... there seemed something different about this morning, I knew it before I'd even opened my eyes. The rain had stopped! So after some particularly palatable porridge, and rattling out a few more pages of political jargon; out we ventured, amongst the sog, and into the real work of beginning to build our soon to be vege-filled garden. 

Amazing how enjoyable a day outside can be, when you had to spend the past three before it held captive inside. 

...tomorrow we get to mix a large bag of horse manure into the freshly dug soil, and for some earthy reason that's beginning to sound rather appealing.