I don’t know why I feel like it’s so hard to write this blog when I love writing, am good at writing, and wish I was writing more. Maybe I’m better on twitter these days, where it’s easy to throw down one hundred and forty mindless characters in one go and walk away. I have no attention span any more. Smartphones stole it away while I wasn’t… paying attention.
Hobart continues to be great. My fourth year passed by without much pomp or ceremony, but many a good time. I did plenty of hard work at those two beloved jobs I scored myself last year, I did plenty of interstate travel (I visited Sydney once, Perth once, Brisbane twice, and Melbourne three times, but it’s not a competition), I tried my hardest to balance being social and working hard. I think I did ok. I think I did better than I had been, anyway. I’m still trying.
For my fourth Tasmemianniversary a couple of weeks ago, I drove back up to Table Cape’s tulip farm. I hadn’t been there since my first anniversary, despite thinking about it every year. My mum’s currently travelling around the island and just happened to be up near Devonport that week so it seemed like fate for me to grab her and for us to travel up along the north west coast to the flowers (she hadn’t seen them before). Mum dressed as a tulip farm for the day; I didn’t get the memo.
I stayed the night at my friends’ place in Devonport and facetimed my hetero lifemate for the first time in too many weeks. The next morning my host and I ate scones the size of fists at the Rectory Cafe (note to self: you can’t fit both the croissant and the scone in, don’t embarrass yourself next time), then I went and found my mum and the Tasmanian contingent of my step-family loitering in Narawntapu National Park. We collected the smoothest rocks on the beach and discussed the intricacies of Pokemon Go! (I know how to work the little people) before I hit the road back down to Hobart again.
Still in love, still in awe, still inspired. Keep it up, Tasmania.