It’s that time of the year again, when summer peaks and the sun scorches.

This morning however, the sun’s out but it is remaining cool for a bit before the heat hits.

Fridays often see me a bit upbeat but drained at the same time.

Last Friday was no different. Tired from the week’s draining drone of drudgery but upbeat with what the weekend had in store. I finished up a tad early and headed to Chisolm. Kiddo and her mob as well as Tress, had been there a few hours earlier. We were prepping for the little one’s 1st party. I got there around 4.30pm, and helped with getting the local community space ready and early on Saturday morning, we quickly walked the little fella before heading down to Chisolm and had a good coffee and a piece of delicious from the L’epi bakery there.

The party was a hit. The kids had a romping time and both Abby and Zoe, the star of the show, enjoyed the occasion. It has been over a year since we moved up to the bush capital and while 4 Dec was the actual date I moved up, little Zoe’s birthday felt like the more distinct marker. It was her arrival that prompted our departure from Melbourne and had us on this little journey to this bush city. After all these years of living out my personal mantra of making decisions that opened up options, I moved in the opposite direction and pushed the pegs of my tent on this little ground that closed up options in many ways.

I guess options mean less as I crash through the floor of being at the less popular end of the ageing spectrum. Past 60 now, options mean less, much as they remain important. The choice that goes against my personal belief brought joys of being with Kiddo and her mob, and of seeing and experiencing those joys in the face, voice and demeanour that Tress demonstrates daily.

Thanks, Zoe (I think). May you continue to grow in stature and wisdom and be in God’s favour (and man’s).

Malinauskas is the Premier of South Australia. The Chief Crow Eater. He makes a lot of sense. Like this (an Editorial in The Australian today):

Like Chris Minns, another Labor Premier (NSW), Peter M is easy to like.

It’s the end of the first working week of the new year.

2026.

I often recall those days when I watched a scifi TV show that has 1999 as a distant time that will never arrive. So when 1999 came and went, I often felt like I was already living in some futuristic zone. I also remembered that when I watched that show (I can’t for the life of me, remember what that show was), I imagined being 34 years old and as a teenager in the 80’s, that was unfathomable.

2026.

I am no longer in my 50s’. In the past few days, I had resumed slow runs at lunchtime. I went beyond brisk walking, to try and build up my “VO2 Max” reading. Yes, the woes of having worn a smartwatch that monitors stuff like that and get you hooked on stats that would have meant nothing a few years ago. Those runs, slow as they were, had tested my dicky knees again, as well as my left leg generally. Last night, the left foot felt stiff to the point of being sore and I had to wake up in the middle of the night, to pop something to ease it. This morning as I trudged along Tress and Oreo for our daily walks, I moaned no longer being in my 50s (read: past 60).

2026.

Creaking left leg and other smaller, niggling, physical woes aside, I am in a good place. Tress too. We continue to work from our home and spend most evenings after work at Kiddo and Mic’s hovering around and fussing over the two little angels. We spend weekends too, around this growing family’s activities and priorities.

2026.

Those two little angels straight outa Kambah, provide respite and hope in an otherwise bleak and depressing world. The events in Venezuela, where President Trump ran amok like a bull in a china shop, bore an ominous outlook of an American hegemony that belies the “make America great again” noise. Its overtures on Greenland expands on that and I don’t understand how so many of Trump supporters – Americans and non-Americans alike – can support such wanton bullying. Sure, removing a despotic drug dealing president like Maduro is no bad thing but rarely do ends justify means without sacrificing important and fundamental tenets of neighbourly interactions. Oil, as many cynically called out not two minutes after footage of Caracas exploding was aired, is now openly parlayed, incredibly, as a justifiable rationale. The earlier drug menace that Maduro and his cartel presented was no longer the overarching reason. Even then, Maduro’s drugs surely must be a supply side of the coin and America cannot win this drug war by ridding just this one side. What of the demand side of the equation? What trajectory is America on, that make it such a huge market for drug dealers? What does Trump (and his supporters) think the solution ought to be to rid such demand and make America great again from that perspective?

Nearer home, the massacre at Bondi Beach has finally forced Albanese to agree on a Royal Commission. Sure, ignoring the Jewish community’s call to park Virginia Bell, and perhaps opt for a less “progressive” commissioner is his way of saving face and caving in to huge pressure but still having his last say. However, having such a partisan retired judge as a commissioner will attract unnecessary risks of an exercise that fall short of getting to the truth of how this horrible tragedy came about. Ideology really is a cancer of western liberal democracy.

2026.

Leaving aside deflating news in the papers, this year provides hope for good endeavours. I look forward to building on several fronts. Kambah, SBC, Pronto and the immediate frontiers. I’m sure the Lord has other fields he has in store. I need wisdom and strength, as usual, to see and plough on.

We’re at the coast, in the lovely little town of Ulladulla.

Spending extended time under one roof with Kiddo, Mic and the Kiddies, has been wonderful.

Mic is a photographer. He’s not too shabby…

From this verse (2 Kings 12:15), no accountants, or risk professionals, will be needed in the New Creation set out in the Book of Revelations

A couple of days ago, I listened to a podcast by John Anderson. He was a Deputy PM of Australia when Howard was the PM, and I have been a subscriber of his podcasts for a little while. The one heard two days ago was his chat with Julian Leeser, a Jewish MP that is intelligent, articulate, and comes across as a leader I can respect and admire.

That podcast was made available 1 day before the tragedy that unfolded at Bondi Beach on Sunday (14 Dec 2025). As I listened to it, I was reminded of Michael Gawenda’s book on being a Jew. That book was published on 3 October 2023 – 4 days before Hamas perpetuated its evil acts on 7 October 2023 at Gaza. As I read that book, I wondered why the world hated Jews. Why so called leaders – not just political leaders, but also institutional leaders like in universities and multinational corporations and think tanks and the likes – why do these so called elite groups hate the Jews.

The timing of the podcast and book were uncanny. I was fortunate to consume both soon after those tragic days in history.

Last night, as we were driving home from Kiddo’s, my watch pinged and I took a glance that said a major incident was developing at Bondi Beach in Sydney.

Not long after we got home and settled down, we turned on the TV and soon, programs were interrupted to broadcast live reporting of what had transpired. Like many, we were shocked. I was speechless as I took in what the reporters were relaying. Sadness kicked in and I expected the worst, as footage of 2 gunmen firing from a pedestrian bridge beamed into our family room. I looked up Google map to check the bearing of where that bridge was at Campbell Parade at Bondi Beach, but couldn’t find it. Soon, it emerged that the perpetrators had targeted a Jewish Hanukkah event and had shot at children and families gathered near a pavilion for that event. I said to Tress this was an antisemitic attack.

Soon, that shock and sadness turned into anger. Anger that Australia had allowed antisemitism to simmer for over two years. Anger that crowds were allowed to march and chant antisemitic curses. When the Opera House march happened 2 days after the 7 October event at Gaza, I was distressed. Why has Australia responded this way, where victims of that event are now the subjects of a hate march? Why has sentiments in Australia been one where the victims are being blamed and became, the targets of hate? Why has the Government done nothing to shut down the ensuing protests that continue to victimise the victims of hate?

Later, that Government that failed to manage the hate supported the perpetrators of that hate. It supported recognition of that terrorist group as a legitimate organisation. I was mortified. The anger continued but it felt hopeless.

This morning, as news report that 16 had died at Bondi Beach and that tally could escalate, my distress and anger continue to simmer. I am angry at our own government. It has brought untold misery to many by an unjust and unnecessary act, driven largely by ideology. Ideology – the cancer of modern Australia (and much of western liberal democracy) – is the only reason I can think of to make sense of this mindless trajectory Australia is on.