February has been a time of travelling for us because Ann has had some time off work. I would like to do small trips monthly but it is difficult when your wife is working or studying five or six days. There is simply no way of making a substantial journey in 24 hours or, at least, there is no way I would want to do one. Ann might be okay with 500 kms in a round day-trip but it has no appeal for me and certainly not by car.

On Sunday the rare occasion occurred in which 4 Ireland brothers were together in one place. Ann, Tom and I drove to Dee Why for a family lunch, one that was very pleasing for my mother, for such a planetary alignment is rare and cannot be predicted.

On Monday Ann and I drove down the South Coast for an overnighter, taking in such natural joys as the Figure Eight Pools, Hyams Beach and the ruins of the lighthouse at Cape St George. Ann planned the whole event because being a tourist in my own country doesn't excite me sufficiently and besides, she really likes to do it. So the two days were packed with stops here and there, including delicious lunch spots. Our motel at Greenwell Point was humble but in an outstanding location with views across the Shoalhaven River and estuaries. It's a lovely part of the world.

Ann shares a moment with Mum. At Greenwell Point.

Just back from 4 days in Melbourne and I am ready to give a thumbnail assessment. Like any tourist to a new town, with the best sites and accommodation, nice restaurants, good coffee and plenty of time to do anything, a positive impression is very hard not to have. But even if you subtract the former advantages, Melbourne is still a pretty impressive place, with wide boulevards, fine public buildings and parks, a strong sense of place and history, and trams that pleasantly ding as they depart their stops. I really liked the town and thought it liveable.

Sydney has a harbour and many fine beaches, but it was poorly laid out from the start and public transport lags way behind its southern sibling. The two cities compete for attention as the premium metropolis, not unlike Tokyo and Osaka, but the battle is largely cosmetic and often made in jest. There is no winner in my estimation though Melbourne feels, on first inspection, to be the more liveable.

Ann and I had a good time, taking a tour of the Great Ocean Road on Sunday, a spectacular drive along a dramatic coastline. The numerically challenged 12 Apostles was most excellent, though I particularly liked Loch Ard Gorge, where the tale of shipwreck, survival and unrequited love was transformative of the rocks, sheer cliffs and roiling surf. The clipper ship Loch Ard ran aground in 1871 and all perished save two young people, Eva and Tom. The latter saved the former but alas, she turned down his hand in marriage. He was working class, she from somewhere higher up. What a fabulous class system the British had!

It's 12 months now since Ann and I submitted our documents to Australian Immigration, applying for a Permanent Residency Visa. The process is slow and often oblique - information other than that which is absolutely necessary is not forthcoming. It is very difficult to gauge how well one is doing, whether or not something is right or wrong, missing or incomplete. The silence is stressful, because lives are at stake, plans for the future hard to realize. In truth, it feels like treading water for a long time, the markings on the pool indeterminate, survival not guaranteed.

Now this is understandable. I'm sure that the good folks at Immigration are snowed under with work from all directions.They also need to be mindful of fraud. But that fact does not make the waiting any easier. Ann and I have many plans for the future. Some can proceed in the hope of a PR Visa, others would be plain foolish without it. How can you reasonably buy a house together, or set up a business if one of the parties might be ejected from the country?

The only thing to do is wait in hope and trust in the fairness of the process. In an age of cynicism and false news, that isn't always easy. Fortunately I am neither a cynic nor a believer in alternate facts, so the wait might generate anxiety, but never pessimism nor despair. That is a promise.

The period of changed working habits or working life that we are in now is not unlike that transition in the late 18th Century when (in Europe) workers moved from country to town. Many left bucolic environments where their work (often on farms and farming-related industries) had a fundamental connection with the passing of days and the seasons. The jobs they went to in the early Industrial Revolution were often dangerous, dispiriting and disconnected in every way from their existence, save as a means of staying alive. Even that was precarious.

The division of labour and specification of industrial tasks, as envisaged by Adam Smith, was the basis for Marx's observation that workers were alienated from what they produced. We may not agree with Marx's ultimate solution, but he was an astute commentator on capitalism in his time. For many people today, alienation remains a very real aspect of their relationship to work, only now the matter is further complicated by the effects of globalization, capitalism's most recent project. Many jobs in the developed world have disappeared or become part-time whilst others have been replaced by technology. It is hard to see how this trend won't continue or even accelerate. Hence the interest in a universal basic income, a wage paid to all citizens by the government. Not being an economist, I don't really understand how it works, for who produces the wealth if everyone is on the public retainer? But I am sure that someone, somewhere, is doing the figures.

When I entered the workforce in the early 1980's, working at one job for life was still a part of the working paradigm. There were plenty of careers in banking, insurance, the public sector, manufacturing and so forth for there to be much choice. Many of these jobs did not even require an HSC. The anxiety that afflicts many late teens these days is not only over the question of what to do, but what am I doing and why am I doing it? These are perfectly reasonable questions - young people are not stupid and are quite aware that the field of play is not the same one that their parents ran onto. Anxiety will always increase when uncertainty rises. The equation of getting good grades in education with a satisfying job and high income is unhelpful too. Rather, students should be equipped to deal with the complexity and inconstancy of the modern world so that they might make choices that increase their chances of happiness.

I hope that Tom can follow this path.

Meanwhile, a comedy duo to end all duos.

Recently I have started cooking Thai food. I like cooking and Ann, my wife, is Thai, so really it's an easy quinella for me. In this effort I have been helped by (the previously-mentioned) Cooking With Poo, the, er, butt of many jokes. Ann has also given me advice on this and that and the advantages of using a mortar and pestle. I listen because it improves the dish, making it more Thai than farang Thai.

Yesterday I made the very popular Phad Ga Pow (Moo). I doubled the recipe-suggested number of chillies though Ann felt I could have quadrupled them. I thought it spicy enough (my tolerance for chilly peppers has vastly increased in recent years) and that putting 20 chillies in the mix would have created a weapon of mass destruction. Ann took it for her lunch today so clearly, I did something right.

I remember my school day's swimming carnivals as being worthy of avoidance. It was compulsory to swim in events unless you could somehow evade the attention of the teachers who were trying to sign you up for races. I could swim well enough, just not competitively, so evasion was necessary. As it turned out I did start swimming races as I progressed through high school. When I became a teacher myself, I would often swim in staff races, not finishing anywhere special. I would have been much better over a distance.

Tom's school had their carnival on Thursday at Lawson Pool and things have changed. You don't have to compete and there are many novelty events to be had, so it is really quite a fun day. As it turned out he didn't even get in the water, though the temperatures soared. Perhaps he is taking a rather extreme leaf out of my book, though as for that, getting a free swim on a hot day was not something I would ever have missed as a kid. If there was a pool, we were in. I think kids these days are a little hung up on being cool, and way too conscious of their bodies. Brand identification is another lamentable fact - children want named things.

Anyway, here he is, with friends, on the day.