Post #82: One Day in September
It’s the morning of the Grand Final. In just a few hours, my beloved team, the Sydney Swans, will run out on to the hallowed turf of the MCG to do battle with the Hawthorn Hawks. And I am already incredibly nervous.
It’s the morning of the Grand Final. In just a few hours, my beloved team, the Sydney Swans, will run out on to the hallowed turf of the MCG to do battle with the Hawthorn Hawks. And I am already incredibly nervous.
A quick guide to visiting and living in San Francisco.
The first saw them about a week after I moved to the neighbourhood. They sat by the restaurant window, dressed in matching outfits of animal print. Twins. In the few seconds it took to walk by, I was taken. They were intriguing, vivacious. Instinctively, I wanted to know more about them.
For a time, I lived in Dublin, Ireland. It was such an exciting time in my life. I’d just fallen in love – hard – with an American who had deep Irish roots. I was living light years away from family and friends, in a country famed for their storytelling and craic.
Today, I witnessed something inspiring. In the cold, damp San Francisco summer morning, I saw the Canadian push herself harder than she ever has before: 13.1 miles of pushing. Her first half marathon ever. Half MARATHON. And she triumphed.
The American and I have been seriously discussing a short journey to provincial England, to live there for a few months in a country village much like the fictional Causton from the TV series Midsomer Murders. And this is how I envision life there…