I was up early on Sunday. The Champions League final sounded promising. Liverpool has had a wonderful season (much to my chagrin…) and Real Madrid had a wonderful ride into the final, beating the odds against the likes of Pep Guardiola’s might Manchester City (again, much to my chagrin…).

The match started late as there were, apparently, thousands of fans who had bought fake tickets that didnt work on the turnstiles. That clogged up the fans’ entry into the stadium. So instead of the 5am start I had prepared for, the match started at 5.36am (weird timing for sure).

Real Madrid won it, by a single goal. What a game soccer is. 90 minutes and only 1 goal. I have become more accustomed to footy scores, where you’d get either side kicking 2-3 goals per quarter at the very least.

Liverpool has been unlucky. They have now lost two Champions League final against Real Madrid within a few years. I remembered watching Gareth Bale scoring twice against them to win it for Real, back in 2017 or 2018. It was a goalie’s horror show in that game. This time around, the Real goalie was the hero to deny Klopp’s men. A tale of two goalies – a Charlie in 2018 and a mighty hero in 2022, both responsible for thwarting Liverpool.

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Later that morning at St Alf’s I was approached by a couple of people. One is to resume doing corporate prayers and the other was an invitation to be part of Sparklit, a Christian NFP that promotes Christian literature, and gives out the Australian Christian Book of the Year Awards. I had been praying for guidance on “what next” in terms of serving etc., for a while now and out of the blue, these invitations popped up. “I’ll pray about it” can sound cliched but it is what I need to do I guess. I have about a week to respond, I think.

Later that evening, I rang my mum. David and Jean had been to Penang so I thought she might want a quick chat on the phone for company. She sounded much more cheerful than the last time I spoke to her a couple of weeks earlier. She commented on Kiddo’s pics on her and Mic’s holidays in the Northern Territory so Tress said to me she must have been following Kiddo’s facebook posts. I guess mum is sort of keeping up with technology and social media, which I tink in this case, is a good thing.

It was really good to see pics of David and Jean in Penang, catching up with Daniel, Nicole and Isaac. One of those pics also had Nicole’s partner, which is a bonus. Seeing pics of people catching up is always heart warming. There will be a couple of catching up’s soon – Kiddo and Mic coming down here and Tress going up to Klang, both in the next month or so. That will be really nice, although for me here alone in Melbourne when Tress will be in Klang, I’m not so sure… It will be terrific for her and her parents so that’s all good.

A little while ago, Tress said our weekends have been taken up with chores. Our lives feel like they’re just flattening out, with nary a lift to provide anything near an adrenaline rush to take us out of this wheel we run on every day.

To be sure, there’re always little things to lift us, and make those routine days and weeks just a touch more colourful. Small happy things. They come from different sources. Our weekend meals, fun TV shows, dinner parties at friends’ homes, church small group meetings in the Longs’ home, and of course, our two little furry men and their time at the oval and parklands right here in our neighbourhood. Tress makes her regular phone calls with her parents, and I do my cooking. Tress doing her ethereal games and me with youtube tricks and tips. Small things. Small happy things.

Sometimes, they’re a little bigger. When we’re at the MCG for a Hawks’ game, things get a little bigger. The 40,000+ crowds sound smaller than those pre-covid 80,000 ones but they feel big none the less. Even when Hawks didn’t get up. A 4-6 record after Round 10 sounds very ordinary but this is a very young side with a first year senior coach. Sam Mitchell was a superstar player and even with his footy smarts, it is still only a rookie year for him. My favourite Hawks hat was his 300th game with Mitchell #5 embroidered. He’s the one for the rebuild and that makes the 4-6 record more palatable. Especially after a game like yesterday, when they played out a 117-112 win against the Brisbane Lions, which is a top 2 team and a real finals favourite. Games like that make you look forward to 1,2 years from now, when finals should be a real chance again. That’s a bigger lift for our ordinary lives.

Other than the Hawks’ wonderful win, the other thing that happened over the weekend was the younger furry man getting his jabs. His annual vaccs that included kennel cough, were done on Sat. He was quite the trooper and it has been a little over a year since he came to live with us. He’s still a bit of a ratbag but in the nicest possible way.

Oh yeah, there was the election too. We got a new PM now. Albo, aka Anthony Albanese. The ruling coalition got a real shiner and key players lost their seats, including the very likeable, decent and competent Josh Frydenberg. That is a real shame. Labor got up (sort of) and personally, I think this change will be refreshing. Timing risks nothwithstanding – inflation challenges that include deficit funding, China, world supply/economic challenges, etc etc – are all real risks and it feels like Labor will meet these with more heart than head. Still, who am I to fret. Que sera sera. I have my small sources of happiness to sugar coat my days. And the occasional big ones, I guess.

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PS: United embarassed itself but stumbled, undeservedly, into the “Europa League”. It did so only because West Ham, managed by Moyes, whom United discarded after less than a year of replacing Ferguson, didn’t manage to win its last game either. So 6th on the table is the final score, and with a gap of some 35 points from Man City, the 2022 winners. They pipped Liverpool by a point, and doing so only in the last 15 mins of the game. Down 0-2 to Gerrard’s Aston Villa until the 75min, they kicked 3 goals before the final whistle to win 3-2 and be crowned champions again, the fourth under Guardiola. United hasn’t had a look-in since Fergie retired in 2013, and it feels like we plumbed it in 2022. Hopefully Ten Hag – the new manager to replace the totally underwhelming Ranick – can do with United what Sam Mitchell is doing with the Hawks.

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PPS: I”ve started to dread politics and elections in recent years. Why does Australia make its people go through this unpleasant phase so often? 3 years is far too short a term for governments. When we came here in 2004, John Howard was the PM. Here are the elections I’ve been dragged to the polling booths since:

2007 – Kevin Rudd (“Kevin O’Seven”)

2010 – Julia Gillard (“There will be no carbon tax under a government I lead”)

2013 – Tony Abbott (“Stop the boats”)

2016 – Malcolm Turnbull (Miserable ghost)

2019 – Scott Morrison (I believe in miracles)

2022 – Anthony Albanese (Cash rate? Hang on…)

And these were only the federal elections. Throw in the State and local council ones and one gets the idea…

After nearly 50 years, Roe v Wade is, apparently, about to be reversed. What a watershed moment for our American friends.

This will be another short week. Yesterday was Anzac Day. Tress and I had wanted to attend a dawn service, but alas, recent busy days got the better of us. We weren’t strong or resilient enough to get up very early and get to a service. We had checked out that there was one in the Blackburn service at Morton Park but we slept through it, unfortunately. I wasn’t proud of it – will hope to make it to one next year.

Over the weekend, Tress and I made some plans to get together a bunch of friends and relos for a dinner in June. We thought (more I than Tress) about having a bit of fun as the 30th year draws near. Kiddo said she and Mic would come down for it. To make it easier for everyone, we thought we’d do it a bit earlier, to take advantage of the Queen’s Birthday long weekend. It also meant Kiddo and Mic would find it a bit easier to make the trip.

Tress has also planned to make a trip back to see her folks. It’d be her mum’s 80th, also in June. I guess this gives me a bit of time to psyche myself into looking after the two furry boys all on my own. It can be a bit stressful, but also fun I guess…

The Easter long weekend has been really good in terms of giving Tress and I a bit of a break. We attended a Good Friday service at St Alf’s and then mulled around the weekend with long walks for the dogs and doing some cleaning. We swapped the cars, pushing the Lexus into hibernation mode and getting the Jedi back into operational!

On Sunday, we attended Crossway Baptist just down the road from our place. Tress’ godson, who is my mate Alex’s youngest, was baptised together with his older brother, Alex’s oldest. It was an Easter Sunday made even more special for the baptisms. We got the younger fellow a nice bible (we hope he liked it) and for the older one, who is on the spectrum and is a really special bloke, we got him a special hat that says “It is well with my soul”. We hope he likes it too.

Earlier last week, the HR person rang to organise a meeting with her along with my boss. She said it was coming up to 6 months (on the 18th) and that meeting was to talk about the end of what is the typical 6 month “probation period”. They asked if I was happy and my boss talked through his plans to hand things over. I said I was happy to carry on (if they wanted me to) so that sort of “confirmed” I “passed my probation”. I guess the thrust of it is I am not unhappy (well not for the most part anyway) – it has been very convenient getting to work, with the office being so close to home, and the work is, on the whole, ok. It gets very busy but what role isn’t and busy is often better than bored anyway.

LBJ has been unwell. He has become very disorientated, with a little incontinence problem too. He has given off an “I’m in pain” sort of a cry on numerous occasions. He is often just standing on a spot, back arched. He goes to the oval for his walk/fun/”play” time only 1-2 times a week now. We’ll be taking him to the vet to see if there is something we can do for him. Tress and I are often sad when we see him sort of in an unhappy state.

We resumed our Friday night dinner in a local joint. This time, it was a Lebanese restaurant at the Forest Hill Chase. It’s called “Mazaj” and it was a really nice place. We had asked Jason and Mel to join us and it was a wonderful evening of catching up over some very delicious food, friendly service and beautifully presented surroundings.

On Saturday, we pottered around after taking the little ones for a walk – more leisurely than on weekdays. I then cleaned out some air conditioning and rangehood filters, before we headed out for our groceries and lunch. Later that arvo, I fixed my pushbike to get it ready for rides to work in the coming weeks. The front breaks had been a bit fiddly but (hopefully) that’s fixed now. I also got other bits and bobs fixed, like the D lock bracket and the holder straps on the back. It was a hot and humid arvo and I was drenched when it was all done. I then joined Tress and the little guys on the oval before coming back for a quick shower to end the day.

After St Alf’s on Sunday, we hurried home and got ready for Hawthorn’s first game of the season. It was great to be back at the G, with clapping, cheering, roars and groans and shouts of “ball!” (i.e., holding the ball, a no-no in Aussie rules football – you have to get rid of the ball tackled etc.). All those little experiences in a spectator sport in an open arena amongst tens of thousands of people, were always going to be invigorating for an otherwise “ground hog days” existence. Other than of course, the recognition that our life must be lived in the light of what God is doing.

St Alf’s has been doing a series on the book of Joshua. The narratives that involved killing off whole communities have been disturbing. So Peter looked at those narratives in the context of what God is doing – from the promise to Abraham to what Jesus completed on the cross. Along with filler ideas like use of hyperbole those narratives presentated differently, perhaps less unpalatable. I’ve also continued to listen to podcasts of Tim Keller’s sermons and together, I’m asking again, what I need to do to live our a life that reflects I am not my own, but I am His. John Bunyan’s pilgrim I need to be.

The above clip was, apparently, shown to the US Congress today by Ukrainian President Zelensky.

A colleague has just shared it, along with an appeal for donations.

It’s heart breaking. Why, Putin?

We skipped St Alf’s last Sunday. We had to get the two furry boys off to a sitter in Ashburton, in the hope of being able to attend the wedding of Tress’ cousin without having to worry about them.

Later that Sunday morning, as I took out a suit I thought I’d wear for the occasion, I fished out a little booklet from the inside pocket of the jacket. It was the wedding program of Sarah and Edwin. We had attended their wedding in Sydney in February 2020. We hadn’t been to another wedding since and I hadn’t used that suit either – another covid affected aspect of our lives.

Kathleen is the youngest of Uncle Seng (Paul) and Auntie Ann. She had just started high school when we first got here. There she was on Sunday arvo, walking down the aisle with both her parents on either side, in St Mary’s church at St Kilda East. Her husband David looked calm when we all waited for the bride to arrive. The church ceremony was short but meaningful and beautiful.

After the wedding we hung around and took pictures, before heading off to a pub at Punt Rd to have drinks and catch up with the relatives. We hadn’t caught up like that for a while so it was really nice. We then made our way to Albert Park Lake for the reception. The wines were pretty good which meant Tress had to drive home, as I snoozed in the car. We had worried about the furry boys earlier in the night, when the carer messaged Tress to say he had been howling.

We picked them up earlier than planned the next day. We couldn’t believe how much we missed them. We have been with them virtually 24/7 for the past 2 years (just under 1 year, in the case of the younger one). Tress is planning/hoping to be in Malaysia in June for her mum’s 80th, and I wondered how we/I would manage the boys, when that happens.

When we got home late morning, I did the lawns and Tress got a message from Li Har to ask if we wanted to catch up with them later that night. He dad has been visiting and was going home to Malaysia today. We said yes, and after I was done, we washed up, and went and got some fruits for a platter Tress then made to bring along.

At Alex and Li Har’s there were numerous families, most of them from Klang, and it was really nice to piece together where each fitted in the Klang community. Not for the last time, we were all amazed at how small the world can be if we tried to connect the dots. There was a guy whose father once owned a medical practice that Tress’ uncle took over. Then there was another elderly gentleman who used to be a supplier to Tress’s dad’s family textile business. We also met a paeditrician who Kiddo used to see when she was little and we were in Klang. It was just a lovely and strange feeling to make all these connections. We left early as we had to go back to work the next day. It had been a long weekend, with Monday being a Labor Day public holiday, and it was a long weekend with plenty of catching up/meeting with people who occupied precious spots in our paths.

I remember Queen Elizabeth making a speech many years ago, where she said it was an “annus horribilis”. I just looked it up and it was 1992. I thought it was more recent than that but obviously time has flown by. That was nearly 30 years ago now.

Was this year – 2022 – going to be another annus horribilis? The past two years have felt pretty ordinary, so much so that I think I wouldn’t be alone in thinking surely we’re due for a break and this year would be better.

Covid continued its devastation and ravaged the start of the year with Omicron. Kabul/Afghanistan, China’s aggression, Putin’s bloody mindedness, and closer to home, ScoMo’s floundering. As worrying and disturbing as all of those were, none of them touched so many raw nerves as what happened between last Friday night and Saturday morning.

I woke up very early on Sat morning (for a pee) and couldnt go straight back to sleep. So I scrolled through my phone and caught someone saying how sad it is, to lose a great cricket icon. I think it was Jane Hume, the Victorian senator who made that post on FB. I thought she was talking about Rod Marsh but it would have been a bit unusual, as she is often very quick off the mark and Rod Marsh’s passing was nearly 24 hours ago (at that time). Then I caught that she was saying Shane Warne. I couldn’t believe what I saw and I looked up a few more sources and it was true. It blew me away. I turned to Tress and whispered to her “Shane Warne has died”. She muttered something to the effect that she was shocked.

For the rest of Sat morning, little else crossed my mind. That single news item overwhelmed the media. The greatest cricketer in the last 20-30 years, one of the all time greats, who was in the prime of his after-playing years, is gone. Only 52 years old. His commentary has been my goto – I always listened with more interest when he made observations in the course of a match. He was so very engaging and a great communicator.

I then thought about Sim several times that morning. Life can indeed be – is – fleeting. I also remembered Shelley’s line in Adonais that said something about life being a multicoloured dome that interrupted the radiance of a white light. I looked it up. It reads like so:

The One remains, the many change and pass;
Heaven’s light forever shines, Earth’s shadows fly;
Life, like a dome of many-colour’d glass,
Stains the white radiance of Eternity,
Until Death tramples it to fragments.—Die,
If thou wouldst be with that which thou dost seek!
Follow where all is fled!—Rome’s azure sky,
Flowers, ruins, statues, music, words, are weak
The glory they transfuse with fitting truth to speak.

How has life become so frantic I can no longer think or try to write like that. I have even lost the inclination to look up verses like that…

Closer to home, Tress had a tough day at work yesterday. Two of her colleagues have resigned. Both are her higher ups, and had been responsible for selecting and implementing a new ERP system that has dogged the organisation for the worse part of last year and has continued to wreak havoc in 2022. Yesterday, the little Padawan picked up a nasty bug while at the oval and came home in a sickly way. He got sick several times and looked a sad thing for the most part of the night. He was better this morning but right through yesterday, I wondered how tough 2022 has been. Would it be another annus horribilis? Or would the Lord relent? My reading at this time is the book of Job. I guess that just sort of nails the theme and I need to just keep my head down and let the Lord be God, and remind myself that I’m not.

Some days, you look at some stories in the papers and you just want to go out and scream… or go to our Lord again in prayers.

The carnage gets worse in Ukraine…

Closer to home, NSW goes under heavy flooding.