mol triumph

Why have I posted this picture? Our sofa arrived via this Japanese merchant ship, a long journey and a tale of two towns. It's now our temporary bed(I mean the sofa, not the ship) pending the move to the new house, sometime in November, tabun. Tom has our bedroom, courtesy of Tresillian. The sofa was an extravagence to send home. It's just that we wanted a little bit of Mukogaoka, in Hazelbrook.

sticks

Tom has, apparently, picked up something of my affinity for sticks. I often catch him waving, poking or fishing with them. He likes to give them to me and sometimes we indulge in a rudimentary kind of swordplay. Boys! Always naughty little warriors!

Weekdays I take him to parks for a change of scene for the both of us. I guess all boys like puddles, creeks and ponds. Water holds a deep fascination, especially if its running. Then, if you have a trusty stick or two, you can prod and poke and even have a stick race. I must admit that leaves get less snagged as a rule, but the stick is a fine boat all the same. Certainly Tom thinks so.

spring cometh

Warmer days and still cool nights. This morning the sun had more bite than usual but the breeze was a just a touch chilly. I love that combination - the sense of warm and cool on your skin at the same time.

The plum blossoms are out and I suppose the cherry trees in Leura will flower in a month or so. We missed the sakkura last spring in Sanda by the slimmest of margins, maybe a day or two. But nature has conspired to give us another springtime in the same year. Two springs, two winters and an autumn. Summer can wait, as it usually must.

Wintry Tom

Winter has been colder than ususual, though nothing by comparison with Sanda, where I recall ice forming on the inside of windows! But last month was quite balmy and I took this shot of Tom in our backyard at #11. We won't be here much longer and he won't have all that nice grass and flat yard to gambol in.

Despite how difficult our final tour of duty was in Japan last time, my thoughts fly more and more to Sanda, to friends, students, life there. Maybe we can visit again soon. Maybe.

Of dukes and spongs

Speculation persists that Mark Viduka, the Soccerroos captain, will retire from international service soon, ostensibly to focus on the task of settling in at his new club, Newcastle United. A shame if it happens. The Duke has another World Cup in him at least and I think his leadership and experience up front could be a critical factor in the Asian playoffs. And of course, we now know, if we didn't before, that Asia is a tough competition and qualification will not be a doddle.

And whilst on the subject of religion (football = religion ??? nani?- ed.) Bishop John Spong is in town. Spong is a modernist who wants to drag the ancient church into the modern age. I rather like the erudite and charming Bishop, but I find it difficult to reconcile his membership of a Christian Church (Episopalean) with his professed beliefs, which might reasonably be summed up by the 12 thesis he posted about a decade ago on the internet. Amongst other things, the modern-day Martin Luther has argued for a new church in which, amongst other things, theism is dead (I take it to mean that there is no God), Jesus was not the product of a virgin birth, did not perform any miracles and did not rise from the dead or ascend to heaven. Nor did he die for anyone's sins, this being an entirely barbaric concept. Prayer is of no value (since no-one is listening, presumably), moral values derived from old textual sources are a nonsense,,,,I think you get my drift.

Of course, Spong is not alone in holding such views. Liberal theologians of the last century often speculated on whether there was indeed a God and so forth, but it strikes me as Pythonesque for a man to dress and act like a Bishop and yet talk so mild-manneredly and so obviously like an atheist.

Alas, I fear that you can't take the metaphysics out of religion. Once you lose the mystery, you also lose the wonder. The mystical is the most interesting part for my money. Don't throw the baby our with the bathwater, Bishop. Leave people their hope, even if you think it is grounded on the delusions of our ancestors. Because, you never know, it might not be.