Following Charlemagne...

I've been in Europe for the last three weeks on a bit of a wander from Bavaria through Zürich and Zermatt (Switzerland) to Carcassonne, up to Paris, across to the Keukenhof and then London and Bath.

In two weeks.

It was a bit of a dash, but lots of fun.

There was one strange thing though: it seemed that almost every famous monument-y place we visited had some sort of connection to Charlemagne.

In Zürich a large "likeness" of the well traveled King is atop one of the towers of the Grossmunster. Apparently Charlemagne founded the cathedral above the graves of two Roman martyrs.

And then in Carcassonne we discovered that not only did Charlemagne lay siege to the city, but according to legend, one of his men gave the town its present name.

And on to Paris where a huge statue of Charlemagne astride a horse greets visitors to Notre-Dame St Michel. Not only does he greet visitors, they greet him...

As we stood in the square, two young school boys ran to the statue, stopped, raised their hands and shouted "Charlemagne!"

Odd.

A funny thing happned the other morning...

In the last couple of weeks I received a letter from ActewAGL, the ACT electricity, gas and water supply people. For once it was not a letter warning me my power was going to be cut off because of some stupid clerical problem, but rather a letter informing me that they needed to check all the power lines coming into the property.

I put the letter in the scrap draw and didn't think anything more about it.

Didn't think about it, that is, until the other morning when there was a knock on the door...

I opened it up to discover a guy in yellow and blue work clothes from ACTEW who told me he needed access to the power pole out the back of the church (on the same property as my house) which was behind a locked wire gate. He politely asked if I could unlock it for him.

"Sure" I said. Realising that I was still in my flanellette PJs, dressing gown and ugg boots.

I gallopped back to the bedroom in a panic and grabbed the quickest outfit I could find. This happened to be old TIGHT hipster jeans and a Wallabies Rugby jersey. Classy

I rushed out the back door and tried to open the gate before they brought the car around.

I was still working on the pad lock (my church master key went in but didn't turn) when the work truck came around back, with TWO workmen in it. My hair had fallen out while I was getting changed, so I was trying to unlock the gate and shaking out my waist length hair at the same time.

Out jumped Actew man number 2 "Good morning Ma'am, we are here to check the power poles..." number one cut him off with "I already told her" and I said "that's why I am trying to unlock the gate...but I think its one of your locks."

While number 2 went to unlock, number 1 looked at me really steadily and asked "SO, you the priest?"
"Yes" I replied "of sorts..."
"Well, Pastor then" he ammended. Not a lot of lady pastors around, are there?"
"Not really" I smiled "the anglicans have quite a few..."
"Got the lock ok?" I asked number 2
"Yep" he said
"Great" I said "I'll leave you to it, knock yourselves out"

I thought to myself as I jogged back around the front, that you probably don't tell power supply workers to "knock themselves out..." I actually said aloud as I was jogging around the corner of my house "my life gets more interesting all the time..."

Things I miss

I was lying in bed this morning, refusing to get up, and thinking of all the things that I miss about being at University. Here is part of the list:

• My peaceful room. I really, really, liked my room in the dorm. I loved my bedspread, and my curtains, and my mosquito net. I also loved that for the first time in my life, I had a space that really was just mine.
• The Cafeteria. Lots of people complain about caff food, but there is something wonderful about having one's breakfast cooked for you every morning, and being able to roll one's dirty dishes through the dishwash hatch and not have to do them. I know, terribly lazy of me. I'm salivating thinking of hot granola, juice and cheese toast - eaten during an 8am lecture. Those were the days.
• The smell of the factory. The estate our campus was on shared its grounds with a health food factory, which makes very well known breakfast cereal. You couldn't get away from the smell. When I was younger, and would visit the place with my parents, the smell was the most distinctive thing. After about 4 months of living on campus, you couldn't really smell it anymore - but if it started raining, or got misty, you'd smell it all over again. Lots of people hated it, but for me, its a safe, homey smell.
• My lecturers. Again, a strange thing to miss. They were the deliverers of assignment deadlines. But they were fun, and classes were great, and they let me nap in the hallway
• My friends. For 3-4 years, we all lived within a few minutes walk of each other, ate nearly every meal together, saw each other in the libraries and College Hall of an evening, got up to mischief together, and now we are scattered all over the country. And none of us are very good at keeping in touch.
• My dorm neighbours. I miss sitting together in the TV room watching Alias, and Boston Legal, and Scrubs, and Grey's Anatomy (yes, I actually did watch that show...shame!), and Stargate, lol. I think one of the reasons I really don't care that we don't have a TV is because TV became a social event. It was an escape from assignments and isolation, and a chance to have a chat.
• The computer room. I didn't really go down to the basement computer room in my final year, because the dorm finally got wireless internet. But when I lived in the basement in 2nd year, the computer room was a great hangout. Adele, Jess and I used to get into all sorts of crazy clothes that we found in the "free" box. (Actually, I think that might've just been Jess). I'm still sad I wasn't around to see anyone's reaction to the computer that we dressed up.
  

And so much more.....

Rememberance Day

Today is the 11th of the 11th and the 89th anniversary of the day the guns went quiet on the western front in the Great War.

Today at 11am I sat on the lawns of the Australian War Memorial to commemorate this. As we sat waiting, I mentioned to Lachlan the medal my grandfather had received for construction service in WWII.
Last weekend we had visited Grand-dad in the nursing home. He had recognised me when I arrived, but then lapsed into semi-sleep broken by occasional wakefulness.
Every now and then he would reach out towards my grandmother, and when she took his hand, he would try to pull himself up. He seemed to hate being stuck in a chair.

Just as I was about to leave, he reached out towards me (I was sitting next to him) and when I took his hand, he just held it. There was no attempt to stand, it seemed that he just wanted to hold my hand.

After Lachlan and I left the war memorial I turned my phone back on and listened to a voicemail from my dad. As it turns out, I was talking about my Grand-dad when he died.

And although I sit here crying, I feel so privileged that I got to see him last weekend, and for the 23 years I have had him.

Goodbye Grand-dad, I will remember you.

11-11-2007

Thieving Crows!

I've never really liked crows much. Those big, heavy black birds, with their long wicked looking beaks. As of Tuesday, I like them even less.

This year, on the first Tuesday in November, the ACT held its first "Family and Community Day" public holiday (conveniently synced with the Melbourne Cup).

As Lachlan and I don't follow horse racing, AND don't have a television, this was simply a day together.

One of our friends had the bright idea to call a picnic in Commonwealth Park. We decided to brave the cold and blustery weather, mainly to see how different the place looked post-Floriade.

Dodging the bobcat that was preparing for turf laying, we found the picnic spot. There was only us, and Nathan, who had called the picnic. We had a nice lunch, and then decided that it was a perfect opportunity for a games of Boules. So, out came the carry bag, it was zipped open, and we each chose our markings. I went with the single lines, Lachlan chose wide double lines, and Nathan the narrow double. We tossed the little wooden jack and began the fun.

After several games, we grew rather silly - throwing all at once etc. I decided that we should wrap up. "Last game" I called. I tossed the jack and instantly, one of the large crows that had been hanging around swooped down and flew off with the jack!

I followed it and saw it land and start wildly pecking at the small wooden sphere. Another crow joined it, and it was momentarily distracted by its competition. I shouted, hoping to scare them both off and reclaim the jack. Alas, I managed to scare them both, but the evil bird took my jack with it!!!

It flew out of sight, the little jack in its beak. Nathan and Lachlan thought we should walk around and look for it, but after a circular walk around the park, we returned to pack up our picnic.

I thought how clever it would be for thieves to train crows to steal something small and insignificant (but frustrating) to get people away from their valuables and make off with them. The most valuable thing we had however was our picnic bag. Maybe the sight of Nathan's beetroot and cashew dip scared them off...

Bad Photos

It looks like this is my monthly check in.... anyway, to the topic at hand: bad photos.

Why do people feel compelled to take them/print them/share them?

I went over to the primary school (as I do every third Wednesday) to take chapel. On arrival I was called into the principals office, not because I had been a bad girl, but because she had photos for me. Photos? Well as it happens, South Canberra Church has one of "those guys". A photo taker.

He had taken photos of me a few weeks ago when I had taken a sermon. So here we have 4 photos of me - blown up to almost as big as my computer screen, all of them are out of focus, and in every single one I am pulling my mouth into some weird shape. They are hideous. Well, they are ok,. But why do they need to be SO BIG??

And why do people print all of their photos. Now I sepak of "general, not specific evils" (thank you Elizabeth Bennet). There are two things about digital photography that everyone seems to be excited about, but nobody takes seriously.

1. You only have to print the good ones. This is, indeed, a great advantage over film photography. It also means that people take thousands of photos. And print most of them - blurry, wonky, on a slant - it doesn't matter. Forget being subjected to someone's sideshow from their recent holiday - slide film is expensive, people can only afford so many. But digital photos are cheap and you sit through hours of agonisingly poor and disturbingly similar shots. "Here's aunt doris with the poodle, here's the poodle and aunt doris, here's aunt doris and the poodle again".
   
   
   
2. We can share photos so easily. Why is it that with technology that can be so easily shared people all feel the need to take their own photo of any event? Why can't we share the photos around. That way, the subjects of the photo don't have to smile for five minutes and keep looking different directions. Example: at the recent pathfinder camp we had a little awards ceremony, during which Lachlan took photos of the kids receiving their awards. After the first group was photographed, every one seemed to catch on to this idea that taking a photo would be a good thing. And so out came the cameras - everyone needed to take their own shot. So now, rather than one photo of an event, we have ten that are essentially the same. Why not just take one and share it around? That way, with a little more time, and a little less stress for the subjects of the photo ("ok, now look over here, look at this one next...") everyone might end up with a copy of a decent photo. As it is, everyone will share the photos round and will end up with 10 mediocre shots of the same thing.

Sigh... as I have said many times before: Digital Photography - making bad photographers worse, and good photographers lazy.

/rant

Thieves and the AFP

I went to the gym this afternoon.

When I got there, I secured my new, present-from-Lachlan, shiny black bicycle to a 10 foot yellow post with my bike chain and then went into the gym.

45 minutes later I came back out on the street to discover that my bike was gone. They had even taken the bike chain.

The shop opposite the 10 foot post was a glass fronted cafe with three staff and no customers. Hopefully I strode inside. I explained the mysterious disappearance and asked if they had seen anything. They hadn't seen a single thing, and suggested that I file a police report.

So away to the police station I walked, helmet under my arm.

The middle-aged lady at the counter of the Federal Police Station was very nice, took all my details and promised that they would start working on it tonight.

I'm not very hopeful, or happy. Someone in Canberra is probably having a good night thought, they've just scored themselves a $700 bike...

I don't like chairlifts

OK, so last weeks accident was catalogued in my post below - this week I had another interesting (painful) experience that was totally not my falut!

We'd just skied down down lower roller coaster to the Ridge Quad chair at Blue cow. I was standing in one of the gates at the front of the lift queue and a chair swung around in front and the gates opened. Just then the chair lift slowed right down, with the chair in a really awkward place, but because I was leaning against the gate I started to move through slowly (I didn't want to smack into the back of the chair. The gate, which is obviously only tied to open when the chair passes a certain place, not to stay open till the chair is in position, swung closed with me inside it.

My right knee was clamped between the metal post and the gate, and the pain caused me to double over - so I was lying on the ground, with my right leg suspended in the air. And the lifty didn't notice!

After the shouts of several people in line and one of the guys on the slowly swinging chair let the absent mided fellow know with "hey, there's someone stuck back there". The lifty ambled back and prised the gate open. I was able to stand up thanks to the lady behind who had kindly uncliped my ski - taking the strain of my knee and ankle. The lift sped up again and we were whisked to the top where Mel asked me "was that you going argh arghhh down there?"

Hrmph

Of snow and soreness

Ahh, what fun yesterday was.

Husband and I arose at 4:45am, filled our thermos', and jumped in the car. We stopped in Jindabyne to grab our skis and were on the slopes by the time the lifts opened.

The weather was perfect. Blue skis, minimal wind, dry, deep snow. It was minus 5, but hey, that's what scarves are for...

We explored all over blue cow and perisher, finding fun little places, and fast slopes. All was going well until mid afternoon when (somehow) Lachlan's skis ended up on the front of mine. Somehow, in the confusion (in the middle of a blue run that was thankfully deserted) my inner edges dug in and my skis (with legs attached) went different directions. Suddenly I was doing what I had always wanted to do, but never been flexible enough: the sideways splits!

I lay there moaning (Lachlan wondered if I had broken my leg). Of course this happned right next to the t-bar and a friendly yell of "are you all right" was (thankfully) answered with 'yes'.

No bones broken, only two nearly dislocated hips, and a little bit of hurt pride.

The best stack of the day, however, has to go to Lachlan - not everyone can somersault quite so stylishly. And the wonderful sub-zero temp. left ice crystals nicely decorating his beanie for the rest of the day!

Back from the depths

Its been a while.

Althought I severely doubt anyone has noticed, I'm not the world's most prominant blogger.

SO, since November last year I have (in reverse order)
- gotten married
- moved to Canberra
- been given a position as a volunteer minister

Life is a little different from 7 months ago. Good different and bad different.

Lachlan is working on his PhD, and I am working on sermons and bible studies and class worships and meetings and learning how to be a wife :)

Its good, I'm glad we are finally married, and settled here in Canberra. I can't say we are living in our dream house and dream location. But is pretty awesome living so close to the uni and the city.

I miss college, and I miss living with so many friends and in such a nice, quiet place. I know that the end of last year I was ready to move another place. But I miss people so much. I miss having a social life which is only just starting to reform with niew people and new activities. Less random conversations and more skiing...

Its interesting to me how hard it is to really get to know someone when you only see them one day a week. At college, seeing people everyday created an accelerated level of acquaintance, which had its bad side.

On the whole though, its been a good move. We are close enough to our families to see them if we want to , but 3-4 hours drive is a nice buffer to start our own lives and our own routines.

Sabotage

I think I am sabotaging my graduation.

I have one assignment to go, one, yet I can't seem to do it.

It all started last semester when things got weird and I had to overload for the first half of the year and underload in second semester. This was done with the understanding that I would take second semester to do the major essay for one of my subjects.

My lecturer and I sat down and set the date for handing in the essay: the second last week of mid year break.

I got sick, and so he told me not to worry about it, and to hand it in when I could.

That was 3 months ago!!!

Somehow, it is not done.

This just isn't right, I should be able to do it! Am I not the girl who can write a major essay in 2 days??

Why then can I not do it?

The only answer that I can come up with is that I am sabotaging my graduation. If I don't finish this essay this week I don't graduate.

That would be bad.

Alive-ness

I can't believe Steve Irwin has died!

Its not like I was his biggest fan or anything, but I am genuinely upset. And its not because he was "the greatest Australian ever" as the media circus would have us believe, its not because I agreed with all his ideas and tactics, but there was something special about him.

Maybe I feel more upset about this than I would expect because I am so close to being married that the idea of loosing a partner is so incredibly tragic. Perhaps its the empathy for children loosing their father. But I don't think that's the only sad thing.

Steve Irwin was more alive than the average person. He was excited, he was genuinely passionate about life, his family and what he did.

So many people are only half alive, so many people are hardly alive, and so the loss of someone that was so passionate about living is tragic.

The loss of someone who was actually excited about getting up in the morning... we can't really afford losses like that sadly.

Study Gremlins

2:30 am is definately too late to stay up doing an assignment!! And then getting up at 7:45...it should really leave one with a tired and vague outlook, but somehow I feel fine. A little tired, but then I normally do.

The gremlins were out to get me last night, I was down in the Physics lab studying away, and as long as I was inside it was all fine, but as soon as I went out to the courtyard I could see faces hiding in the bushes.

It used to happen whenever I had to trun the lights off downstairs: I would get half way up the stairs and then imagine a scary little face at the window and go hammering up the stars. Last night I would get half way across the courtyard and then all of a sudden break into an uncontrolable run because I could just tell they were coming for me!

I suppose I should have grown out of being scared of the dark a long long time ago...

Apocalypse Night

Last night was interesting...
I was really tired, but when I finally went to bed I couldn't sleep because I had the "feeling" again.

Every now and then I get this overwhelming apocalyptic feeling, and I wonder: Is it all worth it? Its all so miserale, why don't I just go to sleep and never wake up?

Last night was particularly bad...

I think I am just a tiny bit depressed at the moment.

I also think that I am procrastinating...but procrastinating is so much fun, as all delusions are.

ho hum

Feeling very flat at the moment and am not completely sure why.

I think I may have become allergic to study. Earlier this afternoon everytime I looked at my computor screen or the book I am reviewing I was nearly overcome with a feeling of nausea. I wonder if you could get an extension on an assignment due to a sudden development of study aversion...

Somehow I don't think it would go over too well with the dean.

All I want to do is listen to music and lie staring at the clouds. But I can't. I am trapped in the library with a rather disturbing looking spider running all over the outside of the window.

Sigh... 4 more weeks!

Succumbing to fashion

Sigh... I really didn't want to join in the blogging wave, but somehow, someWHY I have.

SO here it is, the very first post....

And it may be the last, we shall see, we shall see if anyone reads it!