Funfare for the Common Man

Waiting patiently Interlude 7: One year later 13 February 2023: our darling little girl’s 5th birthday. 13 February 2022: our little girl’s 4th birthday party, a surreal experience overshadowed by the decision we – I? – had just made the day before to leave the next day, my daughter and I. (note to students: this is not a terribly good sentence; please don’t write like this) If you’re a parent, you’ll know the cliché very well: Where has the time gone? They grow up so fast. We left Kyiv on Valentine’s Day, with a return ticket for mid-March. We were leaving as a precaution, though precaution hardly captures how agonising a decision it was. An accidental career Late March 2022, Vienna: I sit here on a glorious sunshiny spring morning in Stadtpark, one of Central Europe’s most picturesque parks, with birds chirping, fountains in full flow, couples promenading hand-in-hand, the distant strains of a busker adding a jazz soundtrack to the setting. Ah, the life of an English teacher abroad! ...

Two of my greatest pleasures in life: reading obituaries and profound quotations. When Donald Rumsfeld - twice American Secretary of Defense, among other roles – recently died at the age of 88, I couldn’t help but genuflect to his epic quotation: ‘[A]s we know, there are known knowns; there are things we know we know. We also know there are known unknowns; that is to say we know there are some things we do not know. But there are also unknown unknowns—the ones we don't know we don't know.’ For any students of English out there, that’s much less convoluted than it first appears. Leaving politics aside – I don’t get into matters political here – Rumsfeld came under vicious attack for this seemingly mealy-mouthed statement. But I have always found it to be brilliant and full of wisdom. He uttered it in 2002; in 2010 the book Black Swan by Nassim Nicholas Taleb came out, and many of us now refer to Black Swan events almost willy nilly when something unexpected occurs. Or, rather, ...

“Having a child is to show an absolute accord with mankind. If I have a child, it's as though I'm saying: I was born and have tasted life and declare it so good that is merits being duplicated.” (Milan Kundera, Farewell Waltz ) How many times have I mentioned something along the lines of ‘this is a far cry from the kind of crap I used to write about!’? Well, here we go again: when I started this blog in 2009, I never thought it would one day turn into a post on children – my own children, in fact (or rather, child). Before going any further, have a look at this article: Why all parents need sabbaticals from their families   Okay, so I am getting ahead of myself. My daughter is not even 6 months old, so I certainly don’t need a sabbatical at all just yet, though I am in the midst of a brief one as my wife and daughter have just gone to Vienna for a week on their own. I’m not sure what to do with myself. Before crossing that Rubicon, I’d like to sh...