The funny thing about going to the gym ...

... is that one night you can be bench-pressing more weight than you ever thought possible, and doing all kinds of tough and difficult exercises under Sophie's gentle guidance; and then next morning, you can hardly lift a cup of coffee.

I have an hour, now, to work on my new subject outline — Romancing the Medieval — before we head off to Melbourne Park for a day's tennis. It's unearthly quiet on the main road outside our house this morning: a slow start to Australia Day. Another occasion for the nation to ponder its past, its present and its future. Should we change our song? our flag? And can I just say? This was the burden of my Wollongong paper. If, as I argue, (royal) medievalism sits closely behind many of our parliamentary rituals and objects — the Mace, Black Rod, the cult of Magna Carta, etc. — then what will happen to those things should Australia become a republic? And perhaps an even more difficult question: what would medievalists who are also republicans advise? It would be hard, I think, not to register some sadness at the loss of those medieval rods of office, even if their use becomes/is already anachronistic. But doesn't the perpetual interrogation of those traditions, and the popularity polls perpetually conducted about our song, our flag, etc. bear out the idea that Australia as a nation-state is still relatively young? Strikes me as not unlike a teenager deciding what to wear that day.

Another question: will we sing at the tennis today? pity all the Australians have been knocked out by their betters...