You can set your clock by it. Come four o'clcok every afternoon you can hear the lorikeets flying by my mum's place and settling in the trees next door. They know exactly what time the feeding stations will be loaded on the clothes line of my old neighbours and they are ready. The birds in my current location are also trained. They respond to Margaret opening her windows and they know that will bring their pot of gold. Creatures of habit with Pavlovian instincts. Let's face it, we all find comfort in consistency and routine - regular meal times, regular sleep times, regular work times. Fill in the gaps. For 14 years, one of the commitments locked in around which the opitional extras have had to fit has been getting my boy to and from Fame. Those musical theatre lessons once or twice a week have been a mainstay of our existances for most of Drama Teen's life. Until today. In recent times I have followed drop offs with a trip to mum's and a visit to those birds. But not any more. Today the classes ended. Officially concerts next week will round off the Fame journey but the lessons are now over. I'm sad. He's sad. He's ready to leave the nest and fly but that doesn't make the parting any less a sorrow. I can't tell you how many times I've sat in the car waiting well past the scheduled finishing time just wishing it would all just be over. As they say, be careful what you wish for. Yo don't know what you've got till it's gone. So like the birds who have sucked up the last of the nectar, the time has come to move on. May the next routine be collecting a great big pay cheque or something and repaying you mother for all those drama lessons. I'll take a mention in the awards acceptance speech if you like.
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