by My Skype student has pulled out of her lesson at the last minute again. She’s rapidly becoming a waste of time. Yesterday I put up three posters – yes, just three – and last night I got call from a guy called Cosmin wanting help with IELTS preparation starting this Saturday, but I’ll believe him when I see him. I’m pretty sure Cosmin comes from the same root as cosmic and cosmos, so it’s a pretty cool Romanian name. I’ve yet to have a student called Bogdan, which is one of my favourite Romanian names (and a very common one). So far the names of my students have run the alphabetic gamut from Adelina (who only had two lessons with me) to Zoltan (a Hungarian name; he was my very first student and after 20 lessons he’s still going strong). I need to put up more posters and run the risk of a fine. There appears to be no other way that works. I just want to teach; this promotional stuff isn’t much fun at all. It does make a nice change though that part of my job, the main part of my job, is something I really enjoy.
According to my property manager, somebody might be interested in buying my flat in Wellington. It would obviously depend on how much I could get. In one way I’d love to get rid of it – psychologically it’s been an enormous burden – but it does give me a good rental income that I’m relying heavily on, even if 30% of that money is eaten up by rates and body corp fees. And I quite like having a toehold in Wellington. I talked to my brother about this last night. In my shoes he’d probably flick it off at the first opportunity.
Simona Halep retained her Madrid title in a fantastic three-set final. The stamina she showed in the latter stages of the match was impressive, and it augurs well for the French Open which starts in a little under two weeks. I didn’t bother with Eurovision after that. Romania finished seventh, respectable enough without all the faff and expense of having to host it next year.
The weather improved yesterday and there were multiple long, snaking queues to buy ice cream. Men, old men mostly, were playing four different games in Central Park: chess, cards (with a deck that includes cups and coins), backgammon, and some game that looks like Mahjong but with colours and numbers (Google tells me it’s Rummikub; I’ve never played that). Last Thursday I brought a pack of standard cards to my lesson with the nine-year-old and I tried to play a polite version of Go Fish with him (“no, I’m ever so sorry I haven’t got a nine; unfortunately you’ll have to go fish”) but that didn’t seem to work. I might try Last Card with him tomorrow.
