Tuesday, 7th November 2000

I'm back. And so is my computer. Last Tuesday I came home after a week in Melbourne with Ben and Agnieszka.

"I might just check my email before I go to bed," I said.

"You can't," said Joel. "The computer's at my place…"

AAARGH!! He's been trying to work out why it keeps crashing. I didn't have time to miss the computer while I was in Melbourne, but now that I'm home…

I've been feeling frustrated all the week. Looks like I'm an addict.

Joel finally brought it back on Saturday. Frances and little Miles came with him. He had just set it up, when there was an ominous rumble of thunder.

"There's been violent storm and hail warnings on the TV all afternoon," said Frances.

"Bit scary," said Miles.

We quickly unplugged everything and my visitors hurried home just as the storm broke.

It was a wild storm. Too close for comfort, but thankfully no hail. The lights went out for about an hour.

Koala on a stick

Frances brought Miles around on Sunday. Miles told me excitedly that he'd been to the zoo and saw a donkey, some goats and "a koala with a stick up its bottom." It was sitting on a piece of gum-tree branch, Frances explained.

That had to hurry home that night too, as another storm broke.

Free black and white cat

A small branch broke off my big pine tree. I was breaking up as much of it as I could yesterday, when my neighbour came over to the fence.

"Do you need another cat?" he asked. He was holding a half-grown black and white cat, he'd found under his house. It probably ran there during the storm. It's a sweet little thing, but I really don't need another cat. I already have Buddy and Ingrid, and next year I'll be looking after Ben and Agnieszka's two cats as well.

"You could call it Whisky," coaxed my neighbour. I gave it some food, which it ate hungrily, then it jumped back over the fence and followed my neighbour across the yard.

I can't get out to put signs in the shops - my car is away getting a new tailshaft - but I phoned the Newsagency and the Vet and Post Office in case anyone is asking about a lost cat.

My neighbour and I have each put a sign on our front fence. I noticed this morning, he has changed his from "Found black and white cat" to "Free black and white cat."

Meanwhile, I just saw him sitting on his back steps cuddling the cat.

Wednesday, 15th November 2000

Denise

I've known my friend Denise since 1987, when she came into our World Vision Jumble Sale and asked for advice on how to write to the child that she had begun sponsoring through World Vision. We invited her to join our club and she has been a loyal member since then, though in recent years, she has been too ill to take part in our activities.

Today would have been Denise's birthday. But Denise passed away last Thursday. We were saddened, but not surprised. She has been battling with asthma, diabetes and osteoporosis for many years. She has had numerous heart attacks and strokes, and has been on oxygen support for the past two years. But now she is free.

This afternoon we attended a moving memorial service in a park by the sea - one of her favourite places. Although it had been raining heavily most of the day, the sky cleared just before the service and it started to rain again as we were leaving.

Denise has been a special friend to me. On many occasions, before she became so short of breath, we have talked on the phone late into the night, sharing thoughts on all kinds of topics, from the sublime to the ridiculous. We often discussed death. I don't know why - somehow we'd get onto the topic and Denise would laugh and say, "We're talking about it again!"

She wasn't afraid of death, although she'd had a close brush with it on several occasions. She had a zest for life. The last time we had one of our conversations, she told me she'd had a wonderful life. She lived life to the full and paid little consideration to her physical limitations.

She said to me once, "If I feel sick, I go out. The chances are, I won't feel much worse, but I usually feel a lot better."

Her motto was "act as if." Act as if you feel fine - and you probably will.

She was more than a special friend. She was my inspiration.

Sunday, 19th November, 2000

Fail to prepare, prepare to fail.

Wednesday, 29th November 2000

I received my first Christmas card last week. How can anyone be so organised as to have their cards sent out by November 21? I reckon if I get mine out by December 21, I'll be doing well.

Christmas memories

At our Friendship Club breakup this week we shared funny memories of Christmas. I told them about the time I took the kids to "Carols by Candlelight" in the park. I think it was Joel's last year in Primary School. He would have been about 12, and Ben was 9. They were quite enthusiastic when I suggested the carols, which surprised me. They even invited a couple of friends to come along. I felt thrilled that all these boys were showing such interest in singing Christmas Carols.

But we hadn't been there long before I realised what the attraction was. The candles! I had to stop them from experimenting how far they could let their song sheet burn before it became too hot to hold.

The climax of the evening came when one of them managed to light the dry grass at the edge of the rug we were sitting on, and fire flared up around us. Someone quickly put it out with a blanket and we left hurriedly, before the evening's programme was finished. It was most embarrassing!

That was the same year that Joel and his friends got into trouble at the Sunday School Christmas party.

We got off to a bad start even before we left home. The boys had played cricket in our backyard that afternoon, and had placed our rubbish bin behind my car to use as a wicket.

Our departure followed the usual pattern; "Hurry up, we'll be late! You'll have to put your shoes on in the car."

We got to the end of our street before I realised the clunking sound behind us was the rubbish bin hooked to the back bumper and its contents were strewn the full length of the street.

We were a bit late that night. But things went quite smoothly after that - until the kindergarten class was on stage with their rather buxom teacher, singing "Awaaaay in a manger, no crib for a bed…"

Joel and his friends were bored with the proceedings. They were right down the back of the hall, blowing up balloons.

Then Joel let his balloon go. The audience watched open mouthed as the balloon squealed its way all around the hall, then finally emptied of air, it dive bombed straight down the cleavage of the kindergarten teacher.

The Sunday School Superintendent said it was "The most disgusting thing I've ever seen!" The kindy kids never got to the end of their song. And Joel decided he was too old to go back to Sunday School in the New Year.