I don't know what possessed me, but for some reason I decided to study this year. I enrolled in the famous Diploma of Children's Literature, at the Christchurch College of Education, basically to make sure I know what I'm doing.
But I swore after my Masters I wouldn't do any more until I retired. Then I forgot about that sacred oath. Somehow, distance education didn't seem quite so daunting.
Last week a pile of papers arrived, equivalent to my own body weight. These are my correspondence course study notes. I may need a new office to keep them all in. The Post Office probably had to employ an extra driver to deliver them. It would never have fitted on the back of the usual motorbike. Not without some risk to the rider and all other road users.
So yesterday I was casually flicking through them and noticed to my horror my first assignment is due on Friday.
At my age.
I must be mad.
And I will be forced to read more books.