Steps in Elliott Street

When we took S to dinner on Sunday (for Mother's Day) we went to Elliott Street in the central city. There I noticed steps heading up from the street to a series of plain doors without any indication what is behind them. All but the top three steps have been painted.

This morning I ran to Ellioot Street and despite taking a few photos on my way there, and a few more on the way back, I have chosen my photo of the steps for my blip. The artist is not acknowledged anywhere here.

After breakfast I headed to the office for the first time in a couple of weeks, and as was the case the last time I was there, the only pauses were due to people not turning up. Merely allowed me to catch up. I did manage a couple of cups of coffee and some water.

S and Jesafly went to the annual Readers and Writers Festival this afternoon, and then S and I met at a book launch for her mentor and friend. Another poet. This collection was called Cloud Boy. The poems were stimulated by and recognised her son, who has had difficulties adjusting to school because he is on the autism spectrum, and off the scale with his intelligence. Not only is the book dedicated to him; he read three short excerpts, and signed the copies of many of the attendees at the launch. After struggling to get their son treated appropriately at the local primary school, the poet and her husband shifted him to another school, where he is much more accepted, has friends and is supported to be the individual he is.

The poetry was good. The content was emotive, yet neither complaining nor maudlin. It is a celebration of the power that the love of a mother and father for a child contains.

A short walk to a cafe for a quick meal, and then home. The weekend lies ahead. Going north tomorrow.