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The Business of Waterfights

This morning I awoke to the fragrance of lawn-daisies on warm air.

In one breath, there is a flashback to all the things that made childhood summers wonderful. Making daisy chains by the blow-up pool, with bees humming all around. The bliss of standing at the open fridge. Starry nights in shortie pyjamas, where as a team we dragged our mattresses to the cool patio, even the baby’s cot mattress.

And waterfights.

‘Hey Tess!’ I looked up to the second story window, and ‘splash’, another water fight was instigated, this time by my mother. My playful mother who had us seven children in seven years, possibly for the fun of it.

The goals, the allies and foes were arbitrary but passionate. We leapt from behind doorways, ambushed and re-filled buckets and salad bowls, sliding and shrieking as the usual life rules got suspended. The aftermath was seven glowing children blissing out on endorphins. Maybe a few stubbed toes, and very clean floors. The carpet eventually dried out.

What if I approached my projects this summer as a childhood water fight? No reason. Play full out. Get mates to join in by ambush.

Most things fail. We loose everything in the end. Whether its a startup, a big purchase, or a waterfight. Finding something that gets us to the edge of our stamina and stealth, for a stint, then having a big long rest. Thats what life is about.

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