Dear Reader
For the first time in twenty years I have written a different address at the top of my letter. All I have had to change is the number from 11 to 7, but the change in my heart is so much bigger!  It reflects the transition from our big family home with six bedrooms, three living areas, and countless memories of times spent with our seven children and grandchildren, to a studio cottage which has my bed in the same room as the kitchen.  However, having moved my possessions which also contain precious memories, I am now ready to create the next chapter in my life.  Last night, Jan came over from the big house to share in a meal of salmon, salad with greens foraged from my garden, and miso soup, at the table which holds the countless stories of family gatherings. As has been my tradition since visiting an elegant older woman in America when I was twenty years old, I lit a candle and had a glass of wine as the two of us chatted.  Having lit the open fire, we retired to sit in front of the welcoming flames, and Jan chose to lie on the couch as we talked for a further two hours.  A former Canadian teacher of the school had been to visit the evening before, and had commented to Jan that he was looking more like me.  It reminded me that I had a photo taken of me at his age, and he was amazed at the similarity between us! 
Spending time with my son was the perfect way to end the weekend.  Since being able to drive independently as of Friday, when he received his driver’s licence, I feel that Jan has suddenly become a young man who is now independent of me, and watching him drive off on Saturday brought mixed emotions with it.  Shahan, at eighteen, is now living in a flat with her best friend, and although she has lived abroad in both Japan and China, helping her move into her new house brought with it the realisation that she had actually left the nest.  On Saturday evening, my Canadian friend, his partner, and another Italian friend from Wellington, came out for drinks in the cottage, and I showed them the shed which is quickly being converted into a studio for Jan.  It is very exciting, and it was reassuring to hear from them that the quality of the construction was excellent.  My builder has become my friend, and as a woman, I am relying on him to do an excellent job.  It is hard when you have to hand things over to someone else.  Over the last nineteen years, any construction work was left to Han, and so the renovations I am now having done are taking me into unchartered waters.  I relish the challenge.
After spending the afternoon in the garden in Saturday, and mowing the big lawn in under an hour, I went inside to have a shower before my three guests from Wellington arrived.  The sun shone brightly in the early evening, and with the roof of the verandah removed so that the rotten boards can be replaced, the sunlight streamed into the cottage.  I love this feeling of light, and my guests were full of good ideas as to how I can retain the light and still have a verandah. We all climbed up onto the scaffolding and they marvelled at the view over the harbour.  They said that in Wellington, a similar property would fetch $800,000, but I would only get a quarter of that price here.  Not that I am in any way wanting to sell, mind you.  I have worked so hard for this piece of paradise, and more than ever, know that I will never leave.  As I have said before, the death of my sister has instilled in me the desire to be happily settled in this cottage which drew me to it on first meeting.  I made bread in the cottage for the first time on Saturday, and my Italian guest said it was the best focaccia bread he had tasted in New Zealand!  High praise, and although I don’t want to boast unduly, it is nice to blow one’s own trumpet occasionally, just in case no one else does it!
Sharing my home with others is one of my special pleasures, and on Friday night, I met a Japanese friend and we had a drink at Alibi.  With Jan having the car, I had decided to catch the bus, but Fumiko offered to drive me home.  On the way to her car, I bumped into a friend I hadn’t seen in over a year, and with so much to catch up on, we stood on the pavement talking.  Fumiko tactfully suggested that we chat over a drink, so we went into Carousel, a bar on Stuart Street where I had never been, and in this quiet ambience, we continued the conversation.  On arriving home, I offered Fumiko a simple dinner, and it was wonderful to continue our evening at the cottage. 
On Saturday morning, I awoke with the dawn as I always do, and had a leisurely shower, Unless you have been to my place, it is hard to imagine my bathing space which has been built in the entranceway to the back door!  It is just a tiled area, with a little shower nozzle which gives just enough water to make one feel there is a point to the cleaning exercise!  The view through the glass in the doorway is beautiful, but one can’t be too worried about privacy! 
Late Saturday morning, after rescuing Jan from a potential parking fine as he had mistakenly parked in a one hour park for the day, I visited my dear friend, Verneen, and kicked myself when I realised that I had forgotten her 87th birthday.  I had remembered on the Wednesday, but the “busyness” of the day got the better of me! (Isn’t ”busyness”  a strange word?  I wrote “business” first, and it was business that made me busy!) I love the English language, and playing with words.  In fact, I talked with Verneen about the English language, and she says that she always makes a point of repeating the correct version of a word if someone uses the incorrect part of speech, or uses the wrong word. I love visiting Verneen, and aspire to be like her when I am her age.  Her life is so filled with family and friends that she seldom has any time to herself.  That is the way I want to be when I am in my twilight years, and long may the twilight be for both of us!
As soon as I arrive at Verneen’s, it is my ritual to put on the kettle for a cuppa, and make the tea in a small red teapot with tea leaves. Although I know that teabags are filled with real tea, I like putting the leaves into the pot, and leaving it to steep.  I was feeling a little hungry as I made the tea, as I had had to fast before going for a blood test early morning.  There is nothing wrong with me, but I thought it was about time to see my doctor and have a check-up. My blood pressure is perfect, and I said to Dr Paul that I am one of the “worried well.” Actually, I don’t think that is true as I always consider myself to be in perfect health, but after all the stress of this year, I wanted to be reassured that my body was continuing to cope without any hidden illnesses lurking unseen. 
The sun was shining as I left Verneen’s, having been watered and fed, and after a quick catch up with Robyn, dear friend and teacher,  on her sunny deck, I headed home.
I won’t fill you in on all that I did this weekend, but suffice it to say that it was full.  I managed to make my bread, mow all the lawns, including the bottom section which was a challenge with a faulty, heavy lawn mower, and move about twenty barrow loads of compost.  My neighbour is a mechanic, and he fixed my lawn mower, after I had done the lawns, and we sat and had a cuppa before I tackled the compost.
Today, I feel well, and ready for the week ahead.  I am taking a session on writing, and I have thought a lot about it as I worked in the garden.  As a teacher, I think we plan a lot in our head before we put our plan into action.  I find writing a release for me, a way to express my inner thoughts and thereby process ideas.  It is also a record for me of the way I was feeling, and of the things I did, and with the increased years comes decreased ability to remember recent detail!  I put this down to the fact that the hard drive in the brain is becoming increasingly full, and it reaches the point where it really should be defragged of useless information.  It is unfortunate that we can not do this, because the reality is that the much of the useless information stays, and the important information is lost!
Putting words in a form which has meaning for me, and for others, is a real joy, and it is this love which I try to pass on to my students.  So many students arrive with a loathing of writing, and this is based on former bad experiences, or a fear that their writing will make it very clear to all that they are incapable of making correct sentences.  This fear is real, particularly for Saudi students, who generally allow this fear to overtake them.  Their response is to refuse to write, or coerce others in to helping them create the perfect sentence for them.  I always begin by giving them my letter, and encouraging them to write just a few lines.  It is amazing how the letter encourages them to write their own thoughts.  This is in response to my self declaration of feelings, and this openness hits a chord with so many.  Through this interactive process, students are able to share their inner thoughts through the written word , and thereby improve their writing skills.  I also encourage students to copy my structures, and I have had two students who rewrote, word for word, a whole year of letters I wrote to them.  This rote learning through writing out whole passages is to be encouraged, not discouraged, I believe.
In class, I will ask students to write three sentences, and then choose one sentence to put on the board. This is then analysed as a group, corrected, and then rewritten.  By taking just a small chunk of writing, the fear is removed, and once confidence is in place, good writing follows.  However, this writing must be corrected and then rewritten. There is no point in a teacher marking a piece of writing if the student takes just a cursory glance at it and files it away. They have to acknowledge where they have gone wrong, and rewrite the passage, and resubmit it for a second correction by the teacher.
Of course, not all writing is fun and personally meaningful. Students, who increase in ability, will be called upon to write academic essays. However, these can only be done when their grammar is solid, so that the framework is in place on which to place the ideas which are needed to be expressed, or the research which needs to be explained.  These academic essays need to be written after much discussion, and the clarity which comes from this discussion needs to be expressed succinctly.  Writing for the IELTS examination is a case in point, where students who succeed do so because they have a good command of grammar, cohesive techniques, a good lexis, and grammar.  When I hear that students want to “learn the technique” to pass IELTS, I tell them that hard work is the only successful tool, as it is in life in general!
I look forward to discussing the way we can empower students to write competently, as improving students’ writing is something that I feel very passionate about.  You may think that rather sad!  I am passionate about other things as well, I might add.  Friends say that I will meet a new partner one day, but if my first guests are three wonderfully gay men, it may be a while until my perfect man comes along!  I have read the Secret, and it recommends one makes a checklist of the qualities one wants in a partner.  I have done this, but my wise son, Jan, told me last night that a list is not a good idea as it limits you to whom you may meet. He said, “What if a gorgeous, black man with no money came along, and he would make you absolutely happy?  You shouldn’t turn that down, Mum.”  Out of the mouths of babes.  I look forward to sharing my thoughts with you, on all levels!
 
Love
 
Sharron