The year of firsts...

Chronologically, today is halfway through the first year after Dad's death.

As far as the Year of Firsts goes, we have been through the First:

• Christmas (25 Dec)
• My birthday (31 Dec)
• New year (1 Jan)
• Wedding Anniversary (26 Jan)
• Easter
• Dad's birthday (4 April)

Still to come, is the First:

• Mum's birthday (22 May)
• Father's Day (7 Sept)
• Anniversary of Dad's death (16 Oct)
• Anniversary of Dad's funeral (23 Oct)

Liturgy for the Scattering of Ashes

This is the liturgy I used for the ritual when we scattered Dad's ashes.

Ceremony for the Scattering of Ashes
4th April 2008

We Are Here

Neville always said that he didn’t want a fancy funeral, but wanted to meet his end floating down the creek in a cardboard box. This ritual today is our way of honouring his wish as best we can.

We are here because this is a special place for us,
a place which will always carry for us memories of Neville,
the one we loved. Let us remember him.
(a silence is kept as people remember, or brief memories about the place and its connection with Neville are shared)

Today we will make this a place which will always be sacred for us
because it holds the ashes of our family member and friend.
This will be part of our farewell
and a sign of the setting free of Neville to leave us,
and enter into his next journey,
whatever that may be.

Scattering the Ashes

Let us look at the beauty of this place
which will today receive Neville’s ashes.
It waits to receive them as a gift for its future life.
It will be the joining of this one life with the life of the universe.
We will scatter these ashes as those
who are now prepared to let Neville go
even as we still grieve.

Before we do that, let us pray:
Loving God, today our minds are filled with memories of Neville.
So much of the life we shared together has come flooding back,
and the pain of separation is reawakened.
On this day, his birthday, when the feeling of loss is so acute,
may our sense of your loving care be very strong.
We thank you that the shared experiences that grew out of our life with
Neville are still enriching our relationships with others,
and pray that this simple ceremony will help us all
on our own journeys of grieving and healing.

Amen

The Scattering

We will scatter these ashes
as those who are now prepared to let Neville go,
even as we grieve.
We will let him go, so that he will return to us in a new way;
as gentle memory… as unexpected presence…
as love and laughter in many forms.
(a silence is kept)

We will now scatter these ashes
and send Neville on the great journey into universal life,
life which is as free as these ashes floating in the air,
one with the turbulent waters of the creek, and as light as sunshine.
We now send Neville into life
which is as strong as our hopes
and as lively and as wide as the sea.

Our love gathers around these ashes as they go,
not because they could ever hold the whole being of Neville,
whose life and spirit
could never be contained in a few small ashes,
but because they are small echoes of the one we have loved
and go on loving.

I now invite you all to take a handfull of ashes and scatter them
into the creek and over the surrounding bush.
(the ashes are scattered. After everyone has scattered a handfull, Isobel scatters the remaining ashes to empty the container)

Travel safely and well, Neville.
We will follow you with the flowers that you loved so much,
to go with you on your way
and in celebration of our love for you
and who you will always be for us.
(orchids are thrown into the creek, after which people move up to the garage workshop)

The Sending Out

From now on, when we see this plaque in this place,
may it be a reminder to us of this ceremony,
and the sacredness of this place,
and the creek where we scattered Neville's ashes.

May the gentle rain visit this place with its greening of life,
may the winds of freedom move in delight among the trees around it
and connect its breathing and growing with the spirit of Neville.
May the sun on the water be bright with hopes for all that is to come
and the calm moon cherish all life with gentleness.
May the waters of the creek flow along their course
with love every day,
just as we have loved our husband, father and friend,
and as he has loved us.

Let us go in peace.


(Based on a liturgy in Rituals for Life, Love & Loss by Dorothy McRae-McMahon.
Prayer adapted from Uniting In Worship)

6 month anniversary

I have been feeling a little guilty about the fact I have been neglecting my blog... mainly because I'm kind of busy with reading for study and other stuff, (so maybe I shouldn't feel all that guilty after all).

Today is a good day to revisit and resume my writing, as it is the six-month anniversary of my father's death. Six months. So hard to believe. At one level, the time has flown so quickly that it's hard to believe we are already half way through the "Year of Firsts", but at another level, life has been pretty full and busy, so it also feels like there is quite a bit of distance from the month I spent in Sydney when Dad died.

I mentioned in an earlier post that I would write about my time in Sydney, so I guess now is as good a time as any to do that. I went to Sydney after class on Wed 2nd April, and returned on the afternoon of Mon 7th. During my time there, I went with Mum to visit the solicitor in the city, as she had drafted a new will, and had also arranged documents to give me power of attorney and guardianship, so that I will be able to look after both her financial needs and general health and wellbeing if she is ever unable to do that for herself in the future.

On Friday 4th April (Dad's birthday), we had a ceremony to scatter Dad's ashes. There were 10 of us present in total (both pairs of next-door neighbours, my aunt and cousin from Newcastle and Dad's cousin and her husband, all of whom are beautiful people who have been very close to Mum and supportive of her since Dad died, so it was nice to share this special time with them).

I led the ceremony, using a liturgy I modified for the occasion from Dorothy McRae-McMahon's book of Rituals for Life, Love and Loss. I'll post the liturgy in another blog entry later. There were a couple of moments when I almost lost the plot and burst into tears, but on the whole I managed to keep things together, and those present said they appreciated the meaningfulness of the ritual.

After we scattered the ashes in the creek at the bottom of the back yard, we followed them with some orchids, Dad's favourite flower. Mum got enough for us each to have a spray of small white orchids, which we cast into the water of the creek.

After the ritual, we all shared a lunch of various finger food and cake, as a low-intensity way to spend some time together to 'come back to earth' after the emotion of the ritual.

I was exhausted, and was dozing at the table, so Mum instructed me to lie down, which I did on the lounge, and was out to it for an hour or two. I hadn't realised how physically exhausting the emotional intensity of the occasion would be. But overall, it was a good time, and an important next step for us all in the process of grieving Dad's loss, and remembering him.

My aunt and cousin from Newcastle stayed with us Thurs and Friday nights, and it was nice to spend some time catching up with them both during that time. I also had the chance to catch up with a friend and her family (and go to church with her) on Sunday, which was also an enjoyable occasion (even though our lunch was a little surreal, as we had to dine by candlelight, as the cafe, and the whole shopping centre surrounding it, were in the midst of a power failure. But despite this, the cafe proprietors were going out of their way to still provide service to customers... lucky their fryer and grill were powered by gas! :-)

So, overall, my trip to Sydney was brief, emotional, but satisfying, and I'm glad I went, and that Mum and I decided to hold the ceremony on Dad's birthday. Using that date helped to add some depth to the ritual, and to provide some extra salve for what would have been a pretty sad day for us anyway.

It was interesting, tonight, I was involved in a Bible study group at church, and we talked (among many things) about death, and how our society seems to be afraid of death. Many people just don't want to talk about the fact that someone close to them has died, and there is an avoidance thing happening.

I suppose that I'm one of the lucky ones, who had a good and healthy relationship with my Dad, and so whilst his death was painful, and it's sad and hard that he's not around any more, I really have no regrets. There were no things left unsaid, or unresolved between us, and I saw him only a month before he died, when I visited Sydney during the mid-semester break last September (and he was quite his normal self then). When he was dying, I also arrived in time to see him whilst he was still conscious and lucid, and aware that I was there. So, as far as such things go, I feel pretty fortunate, but that doesn't mean I don't cry (and in fact am crying now as I write this)... but it's all good and healthy, and a natural part of my ongoing grieving process.

I'm grateful that there are people in both my life, and in Mum's who are not afraid of tears, and understand that it's OK for us to still cry a bit when we think of Dad, because it's a natural and healthy part of our ongoing grief, which will be with us both for some time yet.

Got... to... sing...

Because this is my Exit Year at Theological College, (so I have lots of things on my plate), and in the light of a few changes that have happened with the Melbourne Chorale this year (namely, that the Chorale has morphed into the MSO Chorus, and now rehearses at a different venue which is not really convenient for me to get to any more), I have decided to withdraw from singing with the Chorale this year.

So, on the upside, this means my Monday nights are now free on a regular basis, but the downside is that it means I only have one regular singing outlet: the Queen's College choir. It's ironic, that I was originally toying with the idea of dropping out of the Queen's Choir at the end of last year, but now that the changes to the Chorale, combined with my overall emotional 'hangover' from the end of last year, have made it feel just too hard to keep singing with Chorale, I will be clinging to Queen's choir quite enthusiastically.

Whilst I will miss things like singing larger works, with a good orchestra in big venues, the only serious regret I have in leaving the Chorale is missing out on singing Handel's Messiah at the end of the year under the baton of Graham Abbott, which is always a wonderfully satisfying experience. So I guess I'll have to enjoy it from the audience this time.

And whilst Queen's doesn't sing any huge works, I have found the practice of having to prepare and sing different pieces every week to be an interesting challenge; and of course the worship element is also a huge plus, as I still really enjoy the style of worship, supported by choir, that we have at Queen's chapel.

So, after the uni break, and my time away in Sydney, I look forward to getting back into the sing! :-)

I know it's still only early in the semester, but...

I'm sure that some of my colleagues can already identify with this:




moar funny pictures

Hehehe.

I think I'm getting addicted to these cute kitties... makes me think I need to get a cat (and a goodly stock of antihistamines :-)

Just call me Perry...

... that would be Peripatetic..

I'm now back home in Melbourne, after my week in Hobart (which just flew by. It seemed like I had only just arrived when it was time to leave and head home again).

Having caught my breath for a week or so, I will be off again next Wed, to Sydney, but more about that in a later post.

My time in Hobart allowed me to span the Strait for Holy Week, spending Palm Sunday, Maundy Thursday and Good Friday in Hobart, with Easter Saturday Vigil and Easter Day back in Melbourne. Considering that this will be the last Easter for a very long time indeed, when I will have the luxury of being a pew-sitter (rather than the "minister" leading worship through Holy Week) I think it was an admirable effort. Two cities, three churches and a very serious dose of the grief of Christ's Passion served up in the worship of the Maundy Thursday Tenebrae service, and the Good Friday worship.

But my visit to Hobart wasn't all about church (only mostly :-)

I also managed to catch up with a number of friends (but not everyone that I was hoping to see... sorry Lou, didn't make it to Kingston :-(... discovered an amazing new Chinese restaurant in Sandy Bay with Katrina (gotta love an establishment that, when you order a gin & tonic, asks whether you would prefer Bombay Sapphire or Tanqueray... *sigh* :-).

Of course, I did manage to do the mandatory lap of Chickenfeed; have Eggs Benedict at the Machine Cafe in Salamanca Square, and go shopping for earrings in Thumbprint in the Elizabeth Mall (which was disappointing, as their stock seemed grossly overpriced compared to the last time I shopped there).

All of these familiar activities, built on the sense of 'coming home' I experienced on arrival (gotta love that gust of Antarctic wind as you step onto the tarmac at Hobart airport!), and on the taxi ride from the airport to Battery Point where I was staying. Despite the brevity of the visit, it was good to be home, and I realised how much I have missed the place and the people.

Note to self: get back to Hobart more regularly!

Couldn't resist this seasonal cuteness

I have mentioned before my discovery of the cute website I Can Has Cheezburger?, well this is one of the latest additions to the site, a very clever (and cute) combination of a play on the title of the site, and the current liturgical season.



see more crazy cat pics

holidays!

Yes, I know you're thinking that I've only just started back after summer holidays (such as they were, consumed for the most part by my CPE placement, and general stress about assignments hanging over my head), but tomorrow I head to Hobart for a week's holiday.

I'm looking forward to catching up with some friends there, and in particular folk from my home congregation at Sandy Bay Uniting Church.

So don't expect to hear (or should that be read?) anything from me till after Good Friday when I'll be back in sweltering Melbun (where the temp is currently 35C in my study... but starting to cool down a bit outside I think)

Hobart's climate, is of course, much more civilised than this!
:-)

We can never tell the impact we have on others

Yesterday I received a lovely phone call. It was from a former colleague, who works in the Pastoral Care Dept at Peter Mac, who I became friends with when I was doing my CPE placement there.

Whilst it was pleasant enough that he rang to say hello, see how I was going, and to tell me that I am missed in the department, the thing that really struck me was his report of an encounter he had with a patient recently.

He said this patient, an older lady, told him that on her last visit to the hospital she had met me, and had really appreciated the contact I had had with her and her husband. In singing my praises to this other pastoral carer, she said that the most impressive thing was that I got her husband to cry. Apparently her husband is a big, strong man, and prior to his meeting me, he had never cried in his life.

I was quite chuffed to hear this (and surprised, because this had obviously been a very memorable encounter for the patient and her husband, but I had no recollection of the specific event- Peter Mac is the kind of place where lots of people get a bit teary when talking about what they're going through, and I just didn't realise that for this man, his tears were so significant.)

So now I have to live with the grave responsibility of having the super power of being able to make very tough, grown men cry. Whilst I can think of many occasions when such a super power could come in very handy indeed, I promise to only use this power for good (and also for God, which almost got through as a typo just then!). So the tough males of my acquaintance can breathe a sigh of relief!

But seriously folks, I really was quite delighted to receive this feedback, as it was very gratifying to learn that my ministry had been so helpful to these people, even though I didn't realise it at the time. But in addition to this, it was also quite sobering and encouraging to realise that although so much of the work we do for the Kingdom doesn't bear fruit that we can see... this doesn't mean it doesn't bear fruit at all.

Vale Larry Norman

I was quite shocked to learn, as I surfed around the web tonight, that Larry Norman died last Sunday (Feb 24). He died of heart failure at the age of 60, after a long period of illness related to a heart condition.

I grew up on Larry Norman's edgy music in the 70s and remember treasuring my copy (on cassette) of his album Only Visiting This Planet... and when I sat down to think about it just now, it was scary how many of the songs from that album I can remember, almost word perfect.

Of course, Why should the Devil have all the Good Music was an anthem of our generation of young Christians struggling to find some Christian popular culture, the lyrics of The Outlaw were used as a resource in many a teen Bible study, looking at "Who is Jesus?", and of course, the popularity of I Wish We'd all been Ready made it almost a cliche as an anthem for the generation with an obsession with the second coming of Jesus.

Many of his songs contained very raw social commentary and thinly veiled references to various famous people and world political situations.

In the many obituaries that have flooded the electronic media, comments have been made about how Larry Norman was the father of Christian rock, and the founder of what would later morph into Contemporary Christian music (something which I do my best to avoid these days, because it is so lame), I do still have quite a soft spot for the hard-hitting music of Larry Norman. Here is a clip of one of his songs from Only Visiting this Planet - Why don't you look into Jesus.

A pleasant Sunday afternoon...

I've been sitting here at my computer for the past hour or two, catching up on my email and other computery things from the weekend, after leaving home at 9am yesterday, and only returning home around 3pm today.

The 'pleasant' aspect of the afternoon, is not so much sitting at the computer, but rather the sense of satisfaction and bliss I have after the other things I have been doing this weekend.

Firstly, yesterday the Church Council from my congregation at Brunswick had a retreat at a priory near Diggers Rest (about a half hour drive north of Brunswick). During the course of the day we were encouraged and led in the practice of reflecting on our role of spiritual leadership in our congregation; what it means for us as individuals, and as a whole council.

It was great to get away and think about these things together, as I certainly learned a lot about the other members of the church council during the course of the discussion; the kinds of things that bumping into each other on Sundays at church, or the busy agendas of our church council meetings just don't allow us to explore usually. So it was good, and I came away with a renewed energy to be more present to the rest of my fellow church councillors at our meetings, and in other ways.

But even better than that, was my time in Romsey and Lancefield this morning (and last night). I went straight from Diggers Rest to Romsey to stay with my friend Avril, who is the minister of the Uniting Church congregations in Romsey, Lancefield, Riddells Creek and Mt Macedon. This week Avril was leading worship at Riddells Creek and Mt Macedon, and I was the 'guest preacher' at Romsey and Lancefield.

We had a 'big night on the town' in Romsey, which meant that after a very pleasant dinner at a local restaurant, we were home by about 8pm, with Avril studying the UCA Manual for Meetings, and me putting some finishing touches on my sermon. (... all the while conscious that there were people we both knew in Sydney partying into the night at Mardi Gras... I think we both need to get a life! :-)

I visited Romsey and Lancefield congregations last July, and some of the people today welcomed me as if I were a long lost friend, and commented that they remembered me from last time, and were glad that I was back.

I had a very busy week this last week, and hadn't devoted as much time to preparation for worship as I would normally have liked to, but still things came together in a way that was very humbling. I was lamenting yesterday that I still had some work to do on my sermon, and that I had found the lectionary readings this week very hard to get that spark of inspiration.

(I think the problem was that the Gospel reading, John 9:1-41, was so rich with so many layers of meaning and symbolism, that there were just too many different angles, and no one thing jumped out at me as the thing to run with this week).

In the end, it all came together, and I had a late spark of homiletic inspiration last night that rounded things off rather nicely, and slotted in well with the overall theme of the service that I had planned to create with prayers and hymns. It was a real buzz as I led the faithful folk at Romsey and Lancefield in their services this morning, and noticed the ways that God was present to us all in the worship.

Having just commenced my last year at Theological College, the concept of ordination (and what exactly that means) is currently high on my list of things to think about. Today I was overwhelmed with the sense of "gee, I love my job!" and it made me think that there is something exciting about the prospect of being set apart by dint of ordination to do this kind of work on behalf of the church on a permanent basis.

And yes, I know that there are lots of lay people who lead crackingly great and godly worship on a regular basis too, but for me, personally, I think this ordination thing is finally starting to make some sense (especially the "whatever were you thinking, God, in calling me to this?!?!" kind of questions).

This year, because it's my final year, and there are lots of things (in addition to the academic study stuff) that I need to attend to, I have made a deliberate choice to cut back, and only preach and lead worship on one Sunday a month (which may sometimes mean more than one service per day, but usually only one lot of preparation for all the services of the day).

So last month (Feb) it was at Mount Martha, this month (hmmm... it's only March, and already I have broken my own rule!) I had Romsey and Lancefield today, and next Sunday will be Hastings (in the morning), and Queens College chapel (in the evening)... but then back to normal, 'one-a-month with Riddells Creek, Mt Macedon and Queens again on April 27, and Mt Martha again on May 18.

So, before the academic year even began, my whole first semester was already fully booked with preaching gigs (and I have even managed to say no to a couple of gig I have been offered because I'm booked up)

But, as much as I enjoy visiting the lovely congregations where I have been conducting casual services during the past two years or so, I am really looking forward to the time when I will be able to lead worship every week in the same place (or places- as most colleagues who have gone out into ministry intern placements in the past few years have had more than one congregation or preaching place in their patch), with the same group/s each week, and the chance to build up long term relationships with these folks.... *sigh* only another 11 months or so till that happens.

(I can't believe I'm starting to count down to exit already! - someone please smack me! :-)

Classes have started

Yes folks, it's that time of year again. Whilst Melbourne Uni students are wreaking havoc around town with various O Week shenanigans, we serious students of the UFT are already hard at work this week, beavering away in lectures and the like. (and to prove how terribly serious I am taking this, my final year, I even went to the library, and borrowed a swag of books today... my first day back! I feel like such a scholar ;-)

This semester, I have a cavalcade of Biblical Studies, with a supervised reading unit on Romans (to finish off the unit from last semester), the Gospel of John, and an OT unit on Suffering and the book of Job.

To be perfectly honest, the reason I enrolled in the latter unit was that I have to do two OT units this year, (one of which will be Genesis in 2nd semester) and Job was the only other option at level 2/3 offered by the UFT this year (there was a Psalms presessional, but it clashed with the last week of my summer CPE unit).

It has been noted, that after the death of my father late last year, followed by caring for dying patients and their families during the summer in my CPE unit, studying the book of Job this semester could be seen as a tad masochistic on my part...

"hmm... let me see... how can I really rub my nose in more suffering, because I haven't experienced nearly enough in the past few months"

With this in mind, I suspect it may be helpful for me to hide sharp objects until after I finish the unit :-)

Tragic but cyooote!

I recently found a rather cute website, after seeing it mentioned in a friend's blog. The site is called icanhascheezburger.com and has various pictures of cats and other furry creatures in cute positions, with witty captions (in the broken English that one would expect a kitteh to speak in).

Wanted to share a couple of very cute, and somewhat scriptural pics from that site here.





... and of course, the true picture of creation (move over michelangelo!)







Cute, eh? There are lots of very clever pics, that had me chuckling quite heartily. Enjoy :-)

Getting sentimental about childhood memories

OK, BB's comment on my last post made me seek out this. Enjoy!

Gadget Queen on holidays

As my holiday draws to a close (classes for the new year commence next week) I am making the most of my last couple of days of freedom.

Yesterday, I wombled into Carlton, where I went to a movie at the Nova. The Jane Austen Book Club was a classic chick-flick, and as I settled into my seat, clutching the very last Bailey's Irish Cream flavoured choc-top ice cream (it was indeed my lucky day!) I was ready for a light and fluffy, feel-good movie. I was not disappointed.

After the film, I also had a wander through Borders and chanced upon the latest offering from Kerry Greenwood in her Corinna Chapman series, called Trick or Treat, and so of course snapped it up. Kerry is best known for her 1920s Phryne Fisher murder mystery series, but I personally prefer her Corinna Chapman books (Corinna is a modern day baker of fine breads, and sometime sleuth, based in Melbourne). As I was discussing this with the shop assistant in Borders who served me, she made the comment that "Phryne is who she [Kerry] would like to be, but Corinna is who she really is". (That was deep; I think we had our own private version of the Jane Austen Book Club happening, only with a more local flavour)

I also enjoy reading Kerry's books because (WARNING: Shameless namedropping alert!) I know Kerry and her partner, David the wizard; and many of her characters are based to some degree on people in her circle of friends, and it's kind of fun to recognise various people (as I did today when reading her latest book... she didn't even bother to change the names of the recently-married SJ and her husband Michael-the-musician).

But, all this aside (and I have been enjoying some luxurious hours reading the book yesterday and today), my most exciting new acquisition occurred today, when I ventured forth to K-Mart and bought myself an iPod shuffle. (and of course, I went for the purple one... appropriately liturgical, as we are currently in the season of Lent)

Now this may sound a bit extravagant, but let me explain... I found myself in possession of a number of Coles-Myer gift cards (a couple redeemed from Flybuys and another similar rewards program, and one given to me as a birthday gift), and after doing some research that showed the usual price of 1GB iPod shuffles (the cheapest of the various iPod options) to be somehwere between $95-100, and so with my gift cards, I would have ended up paying about $10 for the gadget... However, when I went into KMart (with some fear and trepidation, as I have not had good experiences of service in the tech department there in the past) I discovered that the shuffles were on special for only $64... I couldn't believe my luck!

So, being the true consumer that I am... I ended up buying the iPod, and a rather nice top (also reduced 20% this week!) and paid a princely sum of $2 cash over and above the value of my gift cards... so I am feeling rather smug, and pleased with the results of my retail therapy for this week.

(and of course, the reason why I am posting this blog entry so late is because I spent most of the evening fiddling around downloading iTunes to my computer, and loading a whole pile of music onto the iPod.)

One of the interesting (and only slightly disconcerting) features of the iPod Shuffle is that you can set it to play tracks in a random order (obvious from the name "Shuffle", really), so as I type this, I have listened to a series of tracks from Handel's Messiah, The Idea of North, Carmina Burana, James Blunt, Brahms' German Requiem and Tommy Emmanuel, just to name a few... (and I just had a rather surreal moment, hearing the recitative from Messiah: "There were shepherds abiding in the field ... and suddenly there was with the angel, a multitude of the heavenly host, praising God and saying..." "Billy's leaving today...." (first line of James Blunt The Prodigal Son)... and I bet you thought the angels were going to say "Glory to God!" :-)

Hmm... I can certainly understand why people get addicted to these things, the sound quality is quite good, and who would ever have thought that 17+ hours of music could fit into such a tiny item (honestly, it's about the size of a large postage stamp, and clips onto your clothes). But I think I might turn the shuffle feature off... after all, I am a creature of habit, and am not keen on the unknown... I like to know what's coming up next :-)

Well, call me gobsmacked

Today I received my confirmation of enrolment for 2008 from the UFT, which also included my final result from the one unit from second semester last year that I actually completed (I withdrew from the other three units, and have enrolled in supervised reading units this semester to cover two of those topics. The third I just let go, as I didn't need it for my ordination requirements.)

For the one unit I completed, after submitting what I considered to be a very rushed, "quick and dirty" final essay (worth 50% of the unit mark), I ended up with an overall Distinction (78%) for the unit. I know I received very good marks for the other two pieces of work I submitted earlier in the semester, but was expecting a fairly ordinary mark for this essay (as I really didn't think it was particularly insightful or deep), and thought at best, I might get an overall Credit, but it seems I did better than anticipated...

Wow... I am gobsmacked (but kind of pleased, too :-)

Am I becoming a grumpy old woman?

This morning I travelled down to the Mornington Peninsula to lead a worship service at Mt Martha.

This was my second visit to this very friendly congregation, and the service went well, and I received lots of very positive feedback from members of the congregation, which was nice.

I decided to take the scenic route home, driving up the coast along the Esplanade, and then the Nepean Highway, which with today's glorious weather was a delightful trip. The view out over the water was just stunning. I thought I would take my time, and stop somewhere along the way to have lunch and read the paper.

I stopped in the main drag of a town just south of Edithvale, and got myself a paper, and entered what looked like a nice little cafe to have lunch. After initially asking the waitress whether the establishment had an 'order at the counter' system or table service, she assured me that if I sat down, I would be served.

So, I sat down, and got out my paper and started reading... Time passed. No sign of said waitress or any kind of menu heading in my direction. I eventually managed to attract her attention as she scurried past after clearing a table, to ask for a menu. After I had perused the menu and made my choice, I then spent an interminable amount of time looking wistfully at the waitress, with menu in hand, each time she walked past me (and my table was very close to the counter, so this happened often).

Eventually she took my order, and I settled down to read again. The food was reasonably prompt in arriving once I had ordered, but it was nothing to write home about. Given that it wasn't outrageously expensive, I actually didn't mind this, but went away feeling like I had eaten, without really enjoying the experience.

However, once I received my meal (a fisherman's basket with chips and salad), I again needed to crash tackle one of the staff to ask for salt and pepper (to their credit, the meal was not already covered in salt, but the chips were a little on the soft and pale side, rather than the golden and crispy side, so they really needed salt to make them palatable).

The biggest gastronomic disappointment, however, was the iced coffee. Seeing as how it was quite a warm day, I thought an iced coffee would go down very nicely indeed. Unfortunately, the only thing 'iced' about it was the big lump of ice cream sitting at the top (underneath the mountain of whipped cream), and the actual milky coffee tasted almost warm... no luscious icy cold milk here...

As I said, rather a disappointment.

Am I becoming a grumpy old woman to think it was unreasonable that I had to ask for a menu, and later had to ask for salt and pepper, and almost had to crash tackle the waitress to attract her attention so I could order?

Am I turning into the kind of person who will specify: "must be a place with good restaurant service" in my ministerial profile under "where are you prepared/not prepared to be placed?"

Or is it just, that after such a great morning, it would have been nice to have had an equally pleasant and enjoyable dining experience on my way home? Maybe next time I visit that congregation, I should stop for lunch farther south, and not worry that it may only be 11:30 and not really late enough for lunch.

I guess you live and learn... but that's one cafe I don't think I'll be going back to.

Just call me a gadabout!

There must be something about being on holidays, as I have had my mind firmly on looking ahead to plan my future holidays!

First, I booked my flights for a visit to Hobart in the mid-semester break over Easter, and now today, I booked airfares to go to Perth in July, so I can revisit New Norcia. I spent a week in New Norcia last July as part of a study unit on Benedictine Prayer and Hospitality, and fell in love with the place.

I became a "Friend of New Norcia" and also befriended one of the monks, who was recognised as a novice (the technical term is to be "clothed" as a novice) during my visit there last year, and is due to make his simple profession on July 11, the Feast of St Benedict. Since I have been dying to get back to New Norcia, I figured this celebration would be as good an excuse to get over there as anything, so I sproinged into action and booked the flights.

The way various things have worked out, I will be attending a retreat the weekend prior to the 11th July, and hopefully staying in New Norcia for almost a fortnight, which will certainly give me another great, in depth taste of life in the monastery, which I loved so much last time.

On my last visit, it felt like I was only just getting the hang of the rhythm of the prayer cycle and daily offices after a week, so being there a little longer this time round will be great :-)

Going out with a bang, not a whimper

Last night I worked my final shift at Peter Mac Cancer Centre.

On the last day of my official CPE unit, I took in a goodbye card and box of chocolates for the staff on the ward where I had been working, and then proceeded to do a Dame Nellie, and kept coming back after the farewell, for a few casual shifts.

Well, this time it's final. I have handed in my hospital ID and pager, and said my final farewells to the staff of the Pastoral Care Dept. And to mark the auspicious occasion of my final shift, I was treated to a rather busy night.

Firstly, my usual hospital round was quite busy, and by the time I had visited all the patients referred to me by the nursing staff, it was after 7:30. On a normal shift, the ward round would be well and truly finished, with reports written and stats entered by then, ready to head home at 8pm, to be on call for the rest of the night. But such an easy ride was not to be.

After an exhausting round, spending time with a number of patients coming to terms with the shock of new diagnoses and adjusting to the reality that they had cancer, I headed back to the department, made a coffee, heated up my dinner and started writing my handover report for the next day.

When about halfway through the report, an emergency code was sounded over the PA, and I had to trek back to the ward to attend. During the next two hours I spent a chunk of time providing support to the other patients in the room, whilst the medical team were working on the patient who was the subject of the emergency, and then the patient's partner arrived, after being called into the hospital. I ended up spending almost an hour with her, providing support as she articulated some of her fears for her husband.

Even though, during the course of my time at Peter Mac, I have provided support to a number of families in similar situations, where a patient might be dying or in medical crisis, I still have trouble knowing what to say to someone when they look at me with such fear and desolation in their eyes as this woman had last night. I can't remember much of what I said to her, but would like to think that my calm, gentle presence was helpful to her in facing that difficult time.

When considering last night, the irony was not lost on me that I seem to have finished how I started, with an emergency (I also had an emergency code on my very first evening/on-call shift in the first week of my CPE unit), so there's a kind of symmetry about it really (and to be honest, when the code was called, I wasn't really surprised. I think I was kind of expecting it). Fortunately, though, on this occasion, the patient was still alive the next day, which has to be a good thing.

Important Health Warning:

Do not swallow chewing gum!



This pic was sent to me in an email by my friend Ange, and I just had to share it.

Hobart here I come!

I've been thinking for a while now that it would be nice to get back to Hobart for a visit. It seems that on my last couple of trips to the South Island, I have only managed to get as far south as Launceston or Poatina, so it's high time to make it 'home' to catch up with some Hobart folk.

I was thinking about Hobart this morning, as I had coffee with my faculty advisor, and he told me of his recent trip down there, and then tonight I had an email from a friend in my home congregation at Sandy Bay, so as 'there's no time like the present', I jumped on the net and booked a trip down there for the mid-semester break. (Gotta love Virgin's Velocity program, I was able to redeem points to pay for the flights, so that I only paid the taxes, amounting to a total of about $90 for the return trip :-)

So, Hobartians, you can expect me in your vicinity from Saturday 15th March until Friday 21st March.

Those of you who are liturgically aware will realise that this means I will have the best of both worlds, in being able to enjoy Palm/Passion Sunday, Maundy Thursday and Good Friday in Hobart, worshipping at Sandy Bay, and Easter Day itself back in Melbourne, worshipping at Brunswick.

Woo-hoo! Can't wait! :-)

What kind of wine am I?

You Are Chardonnay

Fresh, spirited, and classic - you have many facets to your personality. You can be sweet and light. Or deep and complex. You have a little bit of something to offer everyone... no wonder you're so popular. Approachable and never smug, you are easy to get to know (and love!). Deep down you are: Dependable and modest Your partying style: Understated and polite Your company is enjoyed best with: Cold or wild meat

What Kind of Wine Are You?

There must be some kind of irony to life, as Chardonnay is probably the only variety of wine that I don't like at all, and refuse to drink. But I guess I can handle being seen as sweet and light :-)

Office of censorship look out

Your Life is Rated PG-13

Your life isn't totally scandalous, but you definitely don't shy away from adult themes!

What is Your Life Rated?

Hmm... I'm sure many of my friends would never believe this... but I really was honest... truly...

Colour schemes

Your Blog Should Be Blue

Your blog is a peaceful, calming force in the blogosphere. You tend to avoid conflict - you're more likely to share than rant. From your social causes to cute pet photos, your life is a (mostly) open book.

What Color Should Your Blog or Journal Be?

Thanks to Sarah for pointing to this... I think there has been far too little frivolous stuff on my blog in recent times... time to make up for it! :-)

(but how do I tell people I would rather leave my blog the colour it is? I like purple/pink/burgundy tones)

I'm on HOLIDAAAYYYS!! :-)

I am currently (finally!) officially on holidays, and how sweet it is! With most of the hangover of 2007 now taken care of, I am able to turn my attention to the coming year, with excitement, anticipation, and a lot more energy than I have been able to muster for some time.

Family stuff

As I reported earlier, Mum and I had a good time together when she came to Melbourne for Christmas and New Year, and of course, our excursion to the Boxing Day Test remains the highlight of her time here.

Mum returned to Sydney in early January, and has been going well since then, gradually continuing the job of sorting through things and the huge task of getting rid of all the junk in the garage (Dad was a real bower bird, and had a ridiculously massive collection of all manner of tools, gadgets, timber and various bits and pieces, that “might come in handy one day” - no points for guessing which genes I inherited here! :-). So, with the help of the neighbours and hiring a HUGE rubbish skip, Mum managed to get rid of most of the debris from the garage and workshop, and has been working on other little projects since then, like repainting and decorating the front bedroom and moving back in there, after she and Dad moved into the middle bedroom a few years ago, so the tube from his oxygen concentrator could reach out to the back deck.

Australia Day was Mum & Dad’s wedding anniversary, and after celebrating their 50^th anniversary together last year, I expected that this year would be pretty hard for Mum to be on her own. The lovely Kay and John from next door made sure that she was not left alone at all (even for a minute, it seems) as they planned an action-packed day full of special adventures (starting at 6:00am with a trip to Parramatta Park for some hot air balloon watching). I managed to catch up with Mum by phone between the breakfast at McDonalds (after the balloon watching), and the BBQ lunch next door, and as usual, we had a good cry together over the phone.

It’s very comforting for me to know that Mum is being so well cared for by her great next-door neighbours on both sides, as well as other friends and family in Sydney and beyond. I’m looking forward to seeing her again in April (Dad's birthday is April 4), as I think that will be a hard time for us both, but it will be good to have the deliberate ritual of the scattering of Dad’s ashes to help with the ongoing activity of processing our grief and moving forward.

Summer CPE

I know I have already waxed lyrical about how much I loved the experience of the CPE placement at Peter Mac Cancer Centre. Rather than going over ground I’ve already covered, or telling more stories about my adventures, I thought I would share in a few points some of the things I loved about CPE, and some of the things I learned during the unit.

Things I LOVED:

* The Pastoral Care Dept at Peter Mac is the most affirming workplace I have ever experienced. There is a very strong culture of mutual care and support for each other, so that the pastoral care that is provided by the department to the patients and other staff around the hospital is like an outflowing of that care and relationship within the department.

* The CPE group can make or break the whole CPE experience, and I was fortunate to have worked with an amazing group of people. We were all so different from each other, but rather than detracting from the experience, this diversity was a great gift and really enhanced my experience of CPE.

* Supervision- every week I had a whole hour of my supervisor’s undivided attention, where I got to talk about things that were important to me. What a luxury! (It was a bit like my own personal therapy session J ) David was a very insightful supervisor, who didn’t let me avoid facing any of the hard things that I needed to face, but did so in a gentle way that made me feel like I always had a safety net, even when I was taking great risks. I learned a lot about pastoral ministry from his advice and example.

Things I LEARNED:

* I have come to realise that being a pastoral carer is more about who I am than what I do. This has been a great revelation, and has encouraged me to look more closely at who I am, and where my faith inhabits my humanity, and how my faith and spirituality are expressed in the everyday, unconscious parts of me being me, without trying to be a ‘super ministry worker’, and that this is more than enough.

* As a pastoral carer, I bring a gift to those I minister to. The shape, size, colour, wrapping of that gift may be different, depending on the needs and situation of the individual I am ministering to, but the one thing that never changes is the value of that gift. I have learnt that the gift I offer is something of great value. The value of the gift I offer (and also my own value as a pastoral carer) is inherent, and is not dependent on whether or not the recipient takes up the gift or values it themselves. The realisation of this made me much bolder (and I think, effective) when I approached patients to offer them pastoral care.

* Many of the pastoral encounters I had at Peter Mac helped me to recognise that although God is already present in all places and situations, there is a sense in which I, as a pastoral carer (and minister of Christ), bring Christ with me into the pastoral encounter. So even in situations where I might feel that I haven’t done very much, by seeing that God is present in the room, in my consistent presence and empathy, God is there and that’s enough.

* I also learnt that I am a damn good pastoral carer; and I need to be bold in claiming my strengths in this area. My own recent and raw experience of grief seemed to give me an edge, that enabled me to express empathy and give of myself to those I was ministering to, providing a safe environment for them to open up and explore their own experiences of pain and grief too.

OK, so I lied. I will share some adventures:

Over the course of the 11 weeks, there were 7 patients I had pastoral contact with who died. Two of these were in the context of emergency codes being called, and the patients died suddenly and unexpectedly in the presence of family members, and I was present to provide pastoral support at the time. Some of the other members of my CPE group commented that I seemed to have had more than my fair share of patients dying, especially in the emergency situation, and my response was to say that perhaps this was the case because it was necessary. The reality of facing the death of patients and the grief of their loved ones was my greatest fear in undertaking CPE so soon after the death of my own father. In a strange way, I think God allowed me to experience the death and grief of so many patients because I needed to face that fear, and prove to myself that I could overcome it, and still perform the role of a compassionate pastoral carer in those situations without letting my own personal stuff get in the way. My ability to rise to this challenge and do some of my best pastoral work under such circumstances felt like a bit of a triumph for which I was grateful to God and those around me who supported me as I learned this lesson.

I am also glad to have been offered some extra paid shifts working at Peter Mac during the fortnight between the end of my CPE course and the commencement of the next course. In working my first paid shift, it felt kind of funny to not have other things to do in addition to seeing patients (like writing up case studies, preparing a report or presentation for the group etc). About an hour before handover on that afternoon, I was in the position where I had seen all the patients on the wards I was allocated who needed or wanted to be visited, and thought, “What can I do?” there were no reports to write, and entering my stats wouldn’t take that long. I ended up wandering into the hospital chapel, and spend a half hour or so in silence, gently recalling to my mind all the patients and staff I had interacted with during the day, and lifting them all up to God’s care. The chapel at Peter Mac (soon to be renamed “Place of Peace”) is a surprisingly busy place, and as I sat for a half hour or so, a few people came and went, some in silence, and some having quiet conversations in the welcoming space.
It was quite refreshing to be able to round off a day of pastoral ministry in this way, before heading back to the department for handover. (and even more refreshing that when I told the acting Head of Dept that I had spent the past half hour sitting in the chapel, her response was, “Good”). I’m really going to miss that place when I do finally finish up there.

Study Stuff

It soon became clear that, even with the very generous extensions offered by the Dean of the UFT, I didn’t have a snowflake’s chance in hell of completing all the assignments that were left hanging over my head from unfinished subjects in second semester last year. So, I eventually came to the conclusion that this was the case, and more importantly, it didn’t matter. The worst case scenario would be that I would either fail or withdraw from these units, and have to do an extra semester to catch up on the subjects needed to complete my degree and ordination requirements… and let’s face it, an extra semester at Theological College would hardly be the end of the world.

In fact, I was prompted to remind myself to “be careful what you wish for”, as in first year, I had said to the acting Dean that I was enjoying my experience of College so much, that perhaps in second year, I needed to orchestrate some kind of existential crisis so that I would have to stay in College for an extra semester or so.

However, that won’t turn out to be a self-fulfilling prophecy, as I managed to work out a solution, involving the juggling of units, changing a planned major in Systematic Theology into a sub-major, and claiming another sub-major in another field (so ending up with one major and two sub-majors instead of my original goal of two majors, both of which are acceptable options in the rules of the B.Theol degree). This also enabled me to take advantage of some credit points I was awarded by the UFT due to previous degree study in an earlier incarnation as a student… so the bottom line is that, I will be able to finish all the requirements of my degree, and ordination requirements at the end of this year, and I only had to hand in one essay to complete one unit from last year, instead of the daunting pile of something like 7 essays which were looming over my head. (I was able to completely withdraw from one unit, and re-enrol in the remaining two as supervised reading units in first semester this year). I am very grateful to various Deans, Principals, Lecturers and other Powers that Be for being so flexible and compassionate in helping me to reach this end solution that works for all of us.

So, at 4:30pm on Monday of this week, I submitted that one essay to the UFT office, and that night celebrated my new “I’m on HOLIDAYS!!!!” status by having a very enjoyable and relaxing dinner with a friend (which also involved a significant amount of red wine, Tasmanian cheese and gourmet chocolate ice cream). The next day I ventured out to see Sweeney Todd at the Nova in Carlton, and got to do the mandatory swoon over Johnny Depp (is there nothing that man cannot do?!), although I would issue a warning to anyone who might be a bit squeamish about blood that this film might not be for you, because even I flinched a couple of times when the ‘demon barber’ did his thing.

I also rewarded myself by buying the DVD of the last two Vicar of Dibley episodes, which I didn’t manage to catch when they aired on TV, so that provided another afternoon of relaxing holiday entertainment.

I’m also enjoying a gradual return to the ‘normal world’, as I start to pick up some of the regular responsibilities that I put on hold during CPE. This week I had a church worship committee meeting and a volunteer shift at the Olive Way (a drop in kind of outreach run by our congregation in Brunswick)… next week is a church council meeting… and it will all gradually pick up steam as we get closer to the start of classes for the year .

Getting back to normal... whatever THAT is!

I am very conscious of the fact that it's almost a month since my last blog entry, and Beloved Readers, you may have given up on me due to the lack of action on this site.

Well, the good news is that my CPE placement at Peter MacCallum Cancer Centre officially finished today. It was an amazing 11 weeks, which seemed to scream past much too rapidly. It wasn't always easy, but I loved every minute of it, and will talk about some of my experiences in more detail later (when it's not so late, if you get my drift)

I now have three weeks until classes start for 2008. During the next fortnight I have a few paid locum shifts at Peter Mac, to help keep the pastoral care happening there until the new group of CPE participants starts, but apart from that am planning to have a bit of a break (who knows, I might even get to a movie at the Nova!)

Well, it's late, and I need to go to bed, but promise to write more soon!

So, gentle readers, rejoice, for the drought will soon be over (and you will be drowned in my verbosity once again! :-)

I think I'm studying in the wrong place

In yesterday's mail I received the latest catalogue from Koorong Bookshop (a conservative Christian bookshop that has a national chain of stores and a big mail order business).

I enjoy receiving these catalogues; partly because there are sometimes some interesting looking books in them, but mainly because they always come with brochures for various Christian conferences, seminars and other things, which make for quite amusing reading (especially the ones for Women's conferences, which can always relied upon to make my feminist gorge rise).

Well, this time, I think I struck gold. There was a postcard enclosed advertising a certain Bible College (which shall remain nameless, but needless to say, it was not affiliated with any of the mainstream Christian denominations). The college was offering a free iPod nano with every full-time enrolment.

Gadget queen and hard-nosed consumer that I am, I was sorely tempted to jump ship from the UFT to this other college (which also happens to be in Melbourne), but knowing my luck, the free iPod would probably be loaded with Koorong's entire collection of CCM.*

The mind truly boggles, what will they think of next?

* CCM = Contemporary Christian Music (which is about as deep as... well... a not very deep thing, and is the musical equivalent of fingernails down a blackboard... well to me, anyway).

Has this year held the answer to the meaning of life, the universe and everything?

I am conscious that I have been neglecting my blog in recent weeks, so here is a copy of an email letter I recently sent out to various family and friends to mark the holiday season, and the end of the year.

As I contemplate another birthday about to hit, and with that, the prospect of moving on from being the age of "the answer to the meaning of life, the universe and everything" (and if you have no idea what this means, you obviously need to read The Hitch-hikers' Guide to the Galaxy series), I send you belated Christmas wishes (as I didn't seem to manage to get my act together to do Christmas cards, or even a proper Christmas email this year), and trust that your Christmas was a special time of peace and blessing.

The past few weeks have held many things for me, and I will attempt to give you a snapshot of how it's been.

I continue to LOVE the CPE unit I'm doing at Peter Mac Cancer Centre. It is incredibly challenging and demanding physically, emotionally and mentally, but I am loving the work, and especially the privilege of travelling with the patients and their families as they experience hard times and some good times.

A particularly special moment for me came a couple of weeks ago, just after I had spent a very intense couple of days supporting the family and friends of a young woman who became very ill and then died. On my first visit to the ward after this had happened, I was almost pounced on by a patient who I had spent some time with the previous week; he was very excited, and keen to share with me some things he had written down, articulating his take on the meaning of life. He told me that he had been inspired by a conversation I had with him earlier, where we talked about issues of meaning, and he thought he should take the opportunity to write some stuff down, so that when he was going through dark times in the future, he would have something to come back to, as a kind of reference point. This encounter was a real gift from God, which helped to lighten my own spirit after travelling with the family and friends of the other patient through the heaviness and intensity of their grief the day before.

I currently have my mother staying with me (her first visit to Melbourne!), and since her arrival, we have done most of the important cultural icons of Melbourne: we did Lygon St the night she arrived; savoured Brunetti's the following night, then IKEA (and their smashing $2 breakfast!) the next day (and we even finally got around to buying the bookshelves I have been threatening to buy for so long, and now the many boxes of books that have been cluttering my living room for many months are now neatly tucked away).

Last night, I initiated Mum into the pub scene of Brunswick, as we had a counter meal at the Retreat Hotel for dinner. Then this morning we did Sydney Road, from Coburg, where I bought a sewing machine (something I have been wanting to do for ages, and saw a great bargain advertised on TV last night, so went out and bought it), then I introduced Mum to the Mediterranean Wholesalers, an amazing Italian supermarket/general store/cafe on Sydney Rd, and I bought some of their great pasta, and we had a cuppa there, before heading down to the local supermarket for some more mundane grocery shopping before I had to head into the hospital for afternoon/evening shift.

Of course, the biggest excitement of Mum's visit was going to the Boxing Day test match on Boxing Day, which even I enjoyed. It was a great atmosphere, we got to do the Mexican wave, saw the cricket up close, gave Hayden a standing ovation for his century, and even got a bit sunburnt (despite numerous generous applications of 30+ sunscreen). And Mum, being an utter sports nut, just loved it, even though she was hoping to see Ponting get a century, and he let the side down big time (in both innings).

Mum and I spent Christmas Day in Ballarat with my friend and neighbour Susan and her family. Even though we both shed many tears over the week or so leading up to Christmas, as it just didn't feel right not to have Dad around, it was great to be with the Malthouse family, who made us very welcome, and we had a special time with them, for which Mum and I are both grateful.

During her stay, Mum has also been trying, with some success, to bring some order to the chaos of my abode. So my kitchen and bathroom are now gleaming, and you can even see the floor in the living room, and there are numerous cockroach baits now strategically placed in the kitchen and laundry. (I think Mum got sick of me whingeing about the "bloody mainland vermin" so she thought we should take more direct action to get rid of them)... now if only we could do the same to get rid of the spiders and their pesky webs...

I think that's all the news for now...

I'd like to give special thanks to everyone who has been in touch to offer Christmas greetings to Mum and me, especially in the light of the sadness surrounding the celebration this year in Dad's absence. Even though I haven't managed to respond personally to all these greetings I really do appreciate them, so thankyou.

As I continue to work away through the summer at Peter Mac, I trust that some of you will be getting the chance to relax and refresh yourselves at this time of the year, and that the New Year of 2008 brings many joys and good things your way.

Thanks for your friendship and support, I really do appreciate it.

Happy Christmas/ New Year/ holiday/ birthday

(strike out where inapplicable)

Professional boundaries

Yesterday (Friday), in my hospital pastoral care placement, a patient I have spent some time with on the ward where I'm working, was transferred to Intensive Care Unit, as things were not looking good for her.

Just before 8am, I received a call from ICU saying that this family was in need of pastoral care (the call came to me because I was the overnight on-call pastoral carer), but as the day duty person was likely to already be at the hospital by that time and it would have taken me half an hour to get there, I suggested they contact our department and speak to her.

Later in the morning, after I had seen the referred patients on the ward I was assigned to, I went up to ICU, to see how things were going, and whether the day duty person might need a break, as she had been with the family for a couple of hours by this time.

Because I already had a pastoral relationship with the patient and her mother, one of the senior pastoral care staff suggested that I should travel with this family for the rest of the day and be their main point of pastoral care, and so I spent most of the day with the family and friends of this patient (about 4 hours in total).

As I left them at the end of the day, I told them that I would be going home soon, and encouraged them to have the pastoral carer on duty paged if they needed someone to talk to, or to be with them during the evening, or through the weekend.

As I went home, I had trouble getting this patient and her family out of my mind. Today (Saturday) I felt keen to know how things were going for them, and was sorely tempted to ring the hospital to speak to the ICU nurse to find out what was happening. I managed to resist this temptation, because I am not on duty, and there is someone else who is, and if there are any needs today, this person is the appropriate one to look after them.

So I am feeling slightly squished between the rock of genuinely caring about what happens for these folk (and also wanting to be involved in their pastoral care), and the hard place of professional boundaries, that providing care for them was my responsibility till 4pm yesterday, but since then has been the responsibility of other people on duty overnight and the weekend, (so I shouldn't butt in).

This is certainly an issue that raises lots of emotions for me, and confused thoughts, so I think I need to write it all down in more detail for my own benefit, and then take the issue to my next supervision session.

another first!

Today as a colleague was listing the various religious festivals and holidays that are coming up during December, he commented:

"and of course the most important religious holiday is the day after Christmas"

Yes folks, here in Melbourne, that sports mad city, we have the Boxing Day Test coming up. I groaned.

But then this got me thinking... my mother will be here in Melbourne on Boxing Day... my mother is an utter sports nut... maybe she would like to go to the test on Boxing Day...

So tonight I checked out the prices and ticket availability (and both looked achievable- gee it's great being a student! :-), and then rang Mum to see if she would like to go to the cricket when she's here. Of course, she was delighted at the prospect, so I jumped onto the internet and booked us two tickets to the first day of the Test.

Mum was very excited and said it will be a first for her... and I think maybe for me too. I have been to one day matches at the SCG and MCG (all many years ago), but I don't think I've ever been to a test match (or as in this case, part thereof)... and as Mum said, if we get bored with it, we can always just leave and go home - she may be sports mad, but she's also a pragmatist, is my Mum.

Talk about the ultimate in mother-daughter bonding (or is that 'bondage'? :-)

... it happened!

After more than 30 years, Bennelong is no longer a Liberal seat, and John Howard is no longer a sitting member. I heard on the news tonight that Maxine McKew has claimed victory in the seat (although the APH website still claims the seat is undecided).

This is the first time that I have regretted no longer living in that electorate (having grown up there and had John Howard as my local member for about half of my life). With the result so touch and go, it would have been the first time that my vote actually meant anything, as it seems that most places where I have lived since then have been very safe seats for one side or the other.

Before the election, I was planning to do a bit of a victory dance, singing: "ding dong! the witch is dead!" if Howard lost, but after his amazingly gracious speech conceding the election, I kind of feel sorry for the guy, and think it would be unnecessarily nasty of me to be so excited about his defeat.

So maybe I'll just have a quietly excited phone conversation with my mother about the joys of having a new local member in Maxine after so long with "Honest John".