Hawks triumph. Warming Capital, Transient Home.

Kiddo, Mic, Tress and I were at the Chong Co Thai restaurant in Kingston on Friday night. Mic had generously bought me a voucher for my birthday a couple of weeks ago and Kiddo had bought a decent bottle of Pinot. It was a balmy night and it was a great way to finish the week.

Saturday – Grand Final day – we went out to get some grocery etc in the morning and in the afternoon we got ready to watch it on television. Watching it on a tiny 32 inch thing didn’t dampen the excitement too much. I was nervous about how the Hawks was going to deal with gun forward Kennedy and champion midfielder Priddis. As it turned out, Hodge and Company were magnificent. Hodgey’s goal at the start of the second quarter – from the left hand pocket, an impossible angle, he kicked it with the outside of his left foot and it threaded through the uprights for a goal that signaled the Hawks was gunning for the 3-peat with everything they had.

3-peat it was. When I bought my membership at the end of last season I had hoped to be in the draw for the Grand Final tickets if we made it. We made it, won it and I watched it in a tiny apartment, on a tiny 32 inch tv, in a city which had maybe half a dozen Hawks guernseys on show all day. Such is life. For the umpteenth time I wondered about this detour/forked road I’m in and wonder what this all means, where all this is taking Tress and I, and Kiddo.

On Sunday Tress and I took a (relatively) short drive to Gouldburn. We walked around the town, including the train station. The timing was fortuitous as the steam engine was about to take off to a place called Lynwood. We decided to go for the ride so bought 2 tickets and hopped on. Funny how having lived in Melbourne all these years we never got on the Puffing Billy but hopped on in Gouldburn so impulsively.

After the 1.5 hour ride we walked and visited a couple of churches. The St Saviour’s was magnificent and I recalled my current reading of Leviticus. Taking care with one’s work for the building of the Lord’s church has such wonderful outcomes. I know the building of the Lord’s church is really about building the saints – His children – but this outer, physical manifestation is a magnificent sight. The white sandstone on the inside, the beautiful stained glass, the piped organ – I guess St Andrews in Sydney and St Paul’s in Melbourne provide no less grandeur but the buildings all made me think of what care we ought to put into the Lord’s work. I guess if such work involves building up the saints even greater care is required. How can a believer ever become a magnificent representation of the Lord’s beauty and glory? With great care and hard work I guess.

Yesterday Tress and I walked to Canberra Centre in the morning, and caught the shuttle bus to Floriade. The flowers were radiant as always, and the hot weather swelling across the entire eastern seaboard of Oz were distinctly felt as we walked through the displays. We came back late afternoon, and it was still very hot. As I sat in the lounge in the apartment, I saw how contented LBJ was as he spread himself across the carpeted floor, with Tress and I on the couch and Kiddo at the dining table working on her essay. I had said to myself the night before, that we should go to Crossroads in ANU even though I had moved on from looking at Crossroads as my Canberran community. It was the first time we were in church as a family, since I dont know when. It felt great.

As I rode to work this morning, I felt good. The Red Cross Blood Deed notwithstanding. This document has been eating at me for weeks now. I’m constantly playing catch up to my boss and an Executive Director because the vast corporate knowledge they possess (>25 years between the both of them) always means they’re always several steps ahead of me in identifying issues and noticing necessary changes. I’m always feeling inadequate and against the ever present thought of this being a temporary role, my morale is seldom, if ever, high enough for me to feel great about work. So I guess my feeling good as I rode in this morning, had everything to do with the fact of LBJ feeling contented on that apartment floor. The family was together. As it should. Why I ever thought a role 700 km away from Tress can be a good idea, I’d never know. In as much as I want to work, I need to be with her. I long to be with Kiddo too but she is an independent adult now, one who is carving out her own niche in this part of Oz – the world – and settling into her own life path. She will probably have her own family in a few years’ time and while I hope our life paths can cross more my union is with Tress. I need to be with her and when I am, I feel different. I feel good.

I’ll continue with this feel good sensation for the rest of this week. We return to Melbourne on Friday night, before I resume my lone sojourn in the capital city next week. Even with the weather warming up now, that lone sojourn doesn’t excite.