by It’s been a weird end to the week. On Thursday morning my Skype student cancelled 15 minutes before our lesson because she was about to go swimming “with the girls”, as she put it. I texted her to say that she should pay me for the lesson regardless, and she replied with a long rant, basically saying that I was a terrible teacher and she wanted nothing more to do with me. I then asked her how I could improve, saying that I’m still learning myself, but she said, “You’re the teacher! How can I show you how to teach!” Doamne. I hope I get the 200 euros she owes me, but other than that, I certainly want nothing more to do with her. I’d felt I’d done my best with her, so that exchange left a bitter taste in my mouth.
Yesterday Dad called me. Mum had gone to a funeral in Mosgiel; one of her many cousins had died from a slow-growing brain tumour at the age of 60. Apparently she held me as a toddler when we came to New Zealand the first time in 1982. This gave me a rare opportunity for me to ask Dad about life with Mum. Not much had changed. Dad said that one of these days, heaven forbid, Mum could find she has a tumour, and whatever Maureen from the golf club says or does would become irrelevant very quickly. As for me, I’d say my relationship with Mum has improved as a result of being 11,000 miles away. They’ll be here in just two weeks and I’m looking forward to that.
I played tennis today for the first time since December and I want to write about that but I’m going have to end this for now because my sinuses are killing me.
