Integrity

I'm usually thinking about free will, especially when it comes up at Men's Group or with my church friends. Just the other day the same person said, "Hey, if you're gay, you're gay. You can't help it," then later, "Well, you do choose what you do with your body." This guy's main point is, "There's a purpose for every person no matter what circumstance they're born into."

I used to think it doesn't matter at all whether you believe everything is already determined or whether you believe in free will.

Then, over a year ago another minister told me, "It doesn't matter what you believe on this subject . . . [etc.]"

I thought, "Wait a minute; it probably does matter," because I was born antagonistic. (I also was told, "Don't read the Old Testament," by someone I highly respect. So, I started reading the Old Testament more and eventually took 12 hours of graduate level Biblical Hebrew.)

Since last year when I was told it doesn't matter, the question has really interested me and I've discussed it with several other people online and in person who are interested in it as well, although it's almost always them who brings it up. Recently, the movie 21 Grams brought this question into focus. Interestingly, the movie was recommended by an atheist friend of mine.

I believe, though, that another question is much more significant than this complex one of What is determined in life and what is up for grabs?

How can I live in integrity?

I think that's THE question. You can use your answer to the question of whether you believe everything is determined or whether everything is open either to seek integrity or to avoid it.

Seek integrity . . . even if you think it doesn't matter.

Truth Ironically

We drove into Port Macquarie for the night on our way up to Brisbane and I experienced a three-pronged irony:

A tasteful sign listed the praiseworthy attributes of the city, namely, IDEAL CLIMATE.

Seconds later we passed huge sign on which was written in gigantic letters, SEVERE WATER RATIONS--HIGH ALERT!

A moment later I realized that it was RAINING RATHER STEADILY. I laughed out loud.

I realize that truth can be complex. In fact, it's impossible to know all the facts about anything and even the facts we know might seem at times in conflict with the others. How can an ideal climate have both severe water rations and what seems like plenty of rain?

I'm reminded of the mixed messages Christians often send non-Christians. We say, "Christianity is the best climate in the world." Other people think, Well, of course, you think that. It helps you cope with the hard things in life to think that you live in the best religion already and don't have to search. But there are varieties in any religion. There's not just the religion-makes-me-feel-good-in-the-face-of-death option. In the same way, I can't just dismiss religion or God just because hundreds of priests molested boys or because numerous church organizations oppressed the weak. I accept mango as a delicious food even though I discard the seed and skin. I also accept Christ and follow him even though many people associated with him inspire me to anger or apathy.

Some of us Christian types say God provides for our needs, but our lives are often like a giant billboard exclaiming, YOU GOTTA HORDE THINGS AND PUT YOUR ENEMIES DOWN TO STAY ON TOP!

Meanwhile, God's sun shines and his rain falls on both the just and the unjust.

God doesn't play favorites. I might make all kinds of claims about how good I am and how bad others are, but--and this applies to both Christians and non-Christians--my perception of Reality is often poor and yet I live in dependence upon other people whether friends or enemies and on God whether I believe God to be the Author of Reality or not. Some things are true despite my lack of comprehension. In fact, perhaps it's the irony that best bears witness to the truth.

Worthless Prayer

I heard Stafford North say one time, "Sometimes prayer is just meditating on a thought with God." Maybe that's what I was doing for a couple minutes tonight.

I haven't blogged much lately.

Exhausted.

I've always got blog posts buzzing around in my head. Things happen I think are worth sharing and I put the experience into words in my mind as I'm going about the day.

But every night our son, Noah, is crying. (Ironically, his name means settled.)It's hard to think straight and clear in an environment where someone is screaming their head off and our coping abilities are at their 24-hour low. Even if Nicole is the one holding Noah and trying to calm him, I seem to just check Facebook statuses or something aimlessly.

Tonight, Noah seemed inconsolable. I say, "Give him to me." I put him in the sling my Mom made. I head out the door a few minutes before 9 PM. He relaxes and goes to sleep, quiet the entire way to Woolworth's--where I buy eggs, milk, and yogurt--and back (except for his screaming at the checkout).

On the walk back I'm thinking about something I've observed in myself lately. The other day I'd caught my mind saying, "You're worthless!" to myself after dropping the butter dish lid on the counter. I thought, Something's wrong. I realize I've said similar messages to myself many times over my life.

What to do? I said, How can this false message be countered for the sake of redeeming my mind and my self?

Tonight, while I'm walking back up the hill in the peaceful night with Noah in the sling and a bag of basic groceries, I repeatedly say aloud and with conviction:

Lord, even though I sometimes call myself--"Worthless!"
I still love and accept myself
Because YOU do already.

It was a prayer that just really made sense tonight as I looked up at stars in the sky and heard distant pets and insects and carried my son and felt blessed. I don't know that I've ever really doubted God's love for me (even me), but it seems like I need some extra help to see us as we really are, lovable and acceptable. After all, Jesus said, "Love God and love your neighbor as you love yourself." I don't want to call anyone "Worthless!" even if it's just in my head and to me!

And by the time I got home, Noah was so relaxed and quiet that I had a chance to type this post in peace.

New Family Member

I wanted to introduce our new son, Noah Kai, so here are some meanings that might go with his name as well as some video footage of the beginning of his new life.

Psalm 96:11

Let the heavens rejoice and the earth be glad.
Let the sea and everything in it roar like thunder.

Matthew 5:9

Blessed are those who make peace.
They will be called God’s children.

Genesis 1:2

The Spirit of God was hovering over the water.

Genesis 5:29

He named him Noah [Relief], and said, "This child will bring us relief from the work and painful labor of our hands since the LORD has cursed the ground."

Genesis 6:9

Noah had God's approval and was a man of integrity among the people of his time.

Genesis 7:7

Noah, his sons, his wife, and his sons' wives went into the ship to escape the floodwaters.

Genesis 9:20

Noah, a gardener, was the first person to plant a vineyard.

Luke 17:26

"When the Son of Man comes again, the situation will be like the time of Noah.

Noah means peaceful and settled. I also think of the Noah whose family was saved by water. And I think of that Noah as being a gardener of sorts in a new creation. He previews Christ who is actually the preeminent gardener of the new creation, not only ultimately, but also now through people like, I hope, my own son. [Genesis 6:9, 9:20; John 20:15]

Kai means rejoice or ocean. We hope he will rejoice in the Lord. May God’s Spirit, which hovered over the waters also hover over our son. [Genesis 1:2; Psalm 96:11]

Words to Ella

Things I've given to Ella since she was born last year . . .

I haven't said it every day, but sometimes when I hold her and she's calmly laying on my shoulder I say,

Your Mama loves you,
Your Daddy loves you,
And God loves you,
No matter what.
And no matter what happens in your life,
We'll always love you
And we'll always tell you the truth
And you can always tell us the truth
No matter what.

Most days we sing to Ella. I'll share the words to my favorite, which is sung in a minor key:

Create in me
A clean heart, O God,
Let me be like you
In all my ways.
Give me your strength;
Teach me your song;
Shelter me in the shadow of your wing,
For we are your
Righteousness
If we die to ourselves
And live through your death
We shall be born--
Again to be blessed
In your love.

I'm not trying to show off how good we are to our daughter. I'm sure plenty of people love on their children in various ways and even sing to them.

I want to make a point, though. Someone once said, "Every parent sacrifices their children to their values." I believe it's true, which is why I'm not afraid to tell my daughter that I believe God, though I can't see him, and that God lives in her and loves her and loves the world.

Another reason I sing these songs and say these things while I hold her is for my own sake. I believe I desperately need God. He's given me life, but if I don't take the time to say thanks in a song once in a while I start acting like I think God and the whole world owe me something. I want to be accountable to God, too, concerning my care for Ella. I've known a few people who don't believe in God, yet live in integrity. I've also known Christians who simply used God to justify their unrighteous and unjust living. I believe my integrity is my responsibility, yet in need of reform that only God can handle.

The life, death, and resurrection of Jesus is compelling enough to me that I appreciate the Christian faith that flowed from his story. I not only want to share that story with my daughter whether she one day believes it or not, but I want to live in integrity with that story no matter what.

Free Stuff for the Garden

Lately, I've been collecting free things for our garden.

I picked up hessian bags behind the local fish'n'chips shop today. They go on top of compost heaps or worm farms to keep the soil moist and living
Also today at Greenhouse Park after volunteering I picked up three huge bags of really nice mulch
Yesterday I picked up free cardboard boxes (already flattened)
I've been collecting things to grow seedlings in, including egg cartons, toilet rolls, etc.
I collected seeds from a tomato and a pumpkin to dry and plant myself
I also use our green garden waste bin to collect rain water
I'm also making a homemade pesticide by recycling a dried pepper and a tablespoon of garlic.

Sometime I'll do a thing of how many things I've bought and estimate the cost.

My goal is to spend very little money to support a low-maintenance garden the produces food and provides habitat.

My Own Lemon Tree

I wrote this post back in August when I hacked up the lemon tree.

Tuesday before last, when I came home from volunteering at Greenhouse Park, I cut some diseased branches off the lemon tree in the backyard. Ants filled most of these dead branches and I guess they were harvesting some kind of food (aphids) in there (reminds me of the Matrix movie where the machines were harvesting humans like batteries).

Did you know why pruning a plant is good for it? When branches are cut from any plant, the plant will aggressively put down more roots and deeper. This helps the plant to flourish in health and beauty.

When some neighbor or power monger “cuts” me, I certainly feel pain by it. But I can then put down deeper roots to drink Living Water. I can remember to breathe and bask in the sunshine. New fruit grows better than before and any neighbors whether cutters or healers, may receive blessing from me.

Often times the life I experience and the religion I already practice is described best after reading Christian Scripture. When I wrote the above, I was recalling bits from 1 Thessalonians and James about suffering, the Gospel of John about living water, and Galatians 6 about the fruit of the Spirit. I’m pretty sure the Hebrew or Greek words for “spirit” are the same for “breath”.

By the way, it's not really my lemon tree, but as renters I think we're sort of in charge of it.

Caught Up with Greg

Greg pictured talking with my good Texan friend, Corey:

Sunday, before lunch and communion, we had card games and conversation:


What a celebration to be caught back up with Greg. Greg is ten years my senior. Back when he was my age, I lived in Campbelltown and he lived in Minto. We used to play guitar some, eat chips w/ gravy on bread rolls. He'd take me and sometimes others fishing off coastline around Wollongong. Snorkeling, bushwalks, etc.

A few years ago, Greg found Nicole and I online through our blog. We caught up over e-mail. Then, we visited the Gong and Greg had us and our teammates over for a grand barbecue with he and his friend, Deon.

We'd lost touch after that. But after living in the Gong now since Australia Day early this year, we finally found each other! Greg's son, Ben, found me on Facebook last Friday. So, . . . it's been good to get caught back up, not only with Greg, but Ben and Mark as well. They came over for dinner Tuesday. I'll put those pics up later, I promise.

Relay for Life, part 1

Last weekend, we participated in the Relay for Life to raise money for and promote cancer research, support, and education. They asked, What can you do to save a life?

I may write more later about it on the blog, but for now here are some photos.
My daughter is the little girl on friend/teammate's shoulders. He, Shawn, organized our team, which included a rocker from Sydney. The rocker's band is Sunset Riot. See lead singer, Del, reclining on the grass behind my pregnant wife. :-)

Don't Oppress me

You shall not oppress a resident alien; you know the heart of an alien, for you were aliens in the land of Egypt.

- Exodus 23:9

Spring

Sunday morning I got up before Ella for the first time in a long time.

I ate a banana and left only to realize I forgot my cell phone. I came back and got it with just enough time to pick up several guys in Port Kembla. There were five of us from the Port Kembla Men's Group offering our services at Spring into Corrimal, an event that attracted 30,000 people. Here's a photo I took about 9 AM:


We set up a make shift coffee shop next to a food stall at the top of a car boot sale. Here's a photo of the car boot sale:
Here's a photo of the coffee shop. The two guys to the right and little dog are with the men's group.

After setting the coffee up I took a tour of the car boot sale and snatched up a wicked grab. I bought a Kathmandu baby carrier backpack for $40 AUD. New would probably cost $200 AUD. It's really as good as new. Ella hated getting put in it the first time. But once she realized how fun it was to ride in, she looks forward to it with great zeal.

When I found the backpack I only had $20 in my wallet. I gave it to the woman selling it and said I'll be back. I got a loan from the men's group to pay the rest. At the end of the day I spoke with the woman's husband. They were incredibly proud they were giving/selling the backpack to a good home. They asked if I thought we might take it on a trek. I said, "Oh, yes!" I asked them if they were interested in a Food Swap at North Wollongong garden. They were highly interested. I gave them my e-mail address.

Coffee, Chess, and Relay for Life

Yesterday . . .

I showed up to Port Kembla Men's Group and was quickly recruited to make coffee for anyone. Three men in the group had been telling/showing me how to do it right over the past two weeks. On Monday last week I went with A. to serve coffee in Berkeley. He showed me how to steam the milk and that was my job the whole time besides clean up, etc. (Worthy of note: I burned my arm on the coffee machine when I picked it up hot.)

Anyway, yesterday the group needed me to make coffee because the two main baristas were preoccupied and fully busy. One was preparing and cooking chooks/chickens, pizzas, and bread in a built wood-fire oven. That was lunch for the men's group and at the same time practice for a wedding reception coming up. The other barista was out back painting and doing some work on his car to get it ready for rego/registration. The back up barista is in Ireland and traveling abroad for the next several months. So, I got my chance to practice.

One thing I've realized is that often baristas in coffee shops have served me overheated milk in cappuccinos. Also, I like the flavor of coffee, which means it's got to have the creme (sp?), all the flavor and oils in the beans besides the caffeine. So, the coffee that has a medium light brown, smooth color and texture is lovable while instant type coffee has become for me "unloved". (The way you get this lovable coffee is by adjusting the coarse-/fineness of the grounds. Eg, if you get the grounds too coarse, the hot water will run quickly past them and only pick up caffeine and some of the flavors and come out blackish. You really want the hot water to pick up as many delicious flavors as possible, running in a slow, medium light brown stream. If you can ignore the sugar and see the espresso around the cream/milk sun pictured, you'll see what I'm talking about.) There is definitely more to good coffee than bitterness, caffeine, and wasted milk.


One more note about yesterday . . . P., a Macedonian, beat me royally in outdoor chess. Apparently, I play too slowly in addition to stupidly. But P. and the rest of the advisors were kind enough not to call me "stupid," just "slow". So that's okay. One 36-year old told me I should play more aggressively when I'm down to just my king, queen, a rook, and two pawns. It sure wouldn't have hurt. That's a lot like life. When you're down and out or stuck, don't be proud or timid; make drastic changes. Or like Jesus said, if your eye causes you to sin, gouge it out. It'd be better to thrive with one eye than to dwindle with two.

I think it was yesterday, too, that I registered for Relay for Life, a cancer support walk-a-thon sort of thing.

A Creative Day

Today . . .

Noah's Ark = shark

That's how we talk here in Australia. Well, at least with some of the guys who have to work at bushcare until they retire. We were piling and binding Elephant grass (red raw splintered hands to prove it) so it can be carried to a truck and mulched up next week. I was in various conversations with one of the guys, T., all day. We looked into the sky and noticed people jumping out of planes and parachuting down. I said, "I'd do that, but it's probably too expensive." He said, "Yeah, last I heard, it was around $600 AUD." Then, we got to talking about scuba diving in the ocean deep and how terrifying that would be. T. said, "Yeah, don't want to deal with Noah's ark." I said, "What?" He said, "You know, shark. It's how we talk."

I guess when it's obvious from the context what everyone is thinking, you don't need to use the actual word. Just rhyme it with something quite unrelated. So, bone = phone.

I got some fresh mint today and shared a leaf with Ella. We enjoyed taking turns smelling it and nibbling little bits off.

Then, I took Ella for a walk down a couple streets in our neighborhood. I stopped a couple of times to pray for God to bless the people I was seeing. I realized it made even more sense to pray for God to bless me by making me a person of integrity. I picked up a piece of rusty metal for our distressed lemon tree that needs a pick-me-up. We looked up into a Coral tree filled with Lorikeets. We walked down the hill and admired the sensory garden in a front yard. The people on the veranda there came up to the fence to admire Ella. We talked for quite a while. Apparently the man (who doesn't actually live there) was hit by a train conducted by a drunk man decades ago. None of that incident has every been reported in the news because it would've looked bad for the government and CityRail. Also of interest to me is that the home owner never had a plan for the front garden! She just went out one day and planted a few flowers here. Another day she planted some there. And now it's just a beautifully simple garden in the midst of a broken-looking neighborhood with kids tearing around on unregistered motor bikes.

I learned-or was reminded of-three things today:

Communication is creative

My daughter is in the process of being created and so am I

Creativity is beautiful no matter what surrounds it

A Skeptic

Yesterday, while watering the 1,000 native trees, bushes, and grasses planted by the community two Sundays ago . . . I heard in a Scottish sounding German accent something like this:

All religions have one thing in common: THEY WANT YOUR MONEY . . . the Bible's been translated and copied so many times IT'S NOTHING LIKE THE ORIGINAL . . . Oh, Jesus, HE HAD NOTHING TO DO WITH THE RELIGIOUS LEADERS . . . today the the money changers that Jesus would be throwing out--THEY'RE THE ONES TRYING TO GET YOUR MONEY

That's just a few excerpts. He gave lots of reasons to reject religion and too much thinking about the hereafter and heaven. To be fair, the guy was very tolerant of us (being Christians). I was glad to hear his opinion. I didn't need his tolerance, but he assured us several times:

Hey, if you find a religion that works for you, that's great! You should practice that. I just think you should think for yourself and ask lots of questions.

I tried to assure him that I had asked lots of questions and still do. In fact, I've asked all the ones related to his grand skeptical discourse, (though I've didn't ask them all in the same half hour).

The conversation, though mostly one-sided, didn't discourage me at all. We thought, "What a blessing to receive such clear thinking from someone in spite of the fact he must have thought we disagreed with him!"

At several points he was telling me about Freud and Marx and "the opium of the masses" kind of thinking. I told him I sort of agreed:

I said, "Yeah, Freud and Marx made some good observations about some varieties of religion, but have you heard of William James? He--"

Then, I was cut off. "No, I haven't heard of him--" And then, since he hadn't heard of Williams James, he went on sharing all his skepticism with me (again), mostly relating to the Catholic Church (even though I'm no Catholic). Part of his skepticism may have resulted from his experiences growing up in Nuremburg, Germany. You know, that's where they had all those trials after the Nazis . . . I don't even want to talk about that.

I told him, "Well, even though I'm young, I believe I've experienced a lot of the ugliness the world has to offer, but I still have hope." Again, I couldn't get much more of an opinion out than that.

I most appreciate him telling me how to water the dry plants on the hillside more efficiently. And I don't mind him lumping my faith in with weak and naive varieties. And I don't need his tolerance. My faith is tougher than that. Or maybe I should say, my God is tougher than religion no matter which variety you choose to pick on.

It was a positive experience.

A New Start

I've been taking about a month making up my mind to make a new start. I want to cut out sweets from my diet and be more consistent working out with my Kettlebell. It seems every time I say to myself, "Okay, today's the day I'm going cold turkey on any sweet thing besides fruit," someone says, "Well, I made some cookies. Would you like one?" I eat one (or two or more) every time.

I don't feel too bad about today, though. I had two fried eggs (over-easy) with carrot and parsley for breakfast. I took Ella on a walk and was exhausted. I got back and took a nap. For lunch I had refried beans and cheese and coriander/cilantro . . . and two small choc chip muffins. I snacked on about a fourth of a banana. I did a legitimate Kettlebell workout, three rounds. I cooked dinner: porterhouse steak marinated in red wine and rosemary and thyme from our backyard; a veggie medley: spinach grown at Unanderra community garden, tomatoes, carrot, mild garlic, and red capsicum/bell pepper seasoned with thyme; and red potatoes in dill and olive oil. Beautiful! Then, Nicole made delicious choc chip cookies and I ate several.

My Kettlebell workout:

SWINGS: standard two-hand swings with 25 kg KB
ABS: mountain climbers and other ab exercises
PRESSES: two rounds lying down and one standing up with the KB
SQUATS: two handed
PULLUPS: three sets of 7 reps each

I'm taking a four-week break from climbing for various reasons. I want to stay consistent with the KB until I get back into climbing.

I remember Jesus saying about his followers: "The spirit is willing, but the flesh is weak." But I often feel like, "My body is willing, but my will is week." I know that my body gets rewarded for taking on healthy pleasures even when there's a bit of pain involved, but the hardest part by far is getting motivated. One thing that helps is when Nicole says, "You should go for a run or something; your legs are getting soft." That type thing is very motivating. Another thing is when I have a workout partner. Lately, my main rock climbing partner moved to Qatar so, . . . I wanted to take a break from climbing rather than just let my climbing fizzle out without that accountability factor. When I start back I'll seek a new consistent partner.

Probably the biggest motivating factor is my daughter. I'm 34 and I realize I really want to be able to keep up with my children when they're teenagers at least. I want to be a leader in health in such a way that they'll enjoy the healthy pleasures. Health is such an amazing gift that I want to revel in it rather than treat it with disdain and sloth.

“Lemons for free?”

True story. A fortunate woman living in Wollongong bought a house. From a vibrant lemon tree in the yard fell more than enough lemons. The woman didn’t like lemons so she put them in her garden waste bin. There were enough lemons that the garbage men noticed and reported the incident.

Council told the woman, “You can’t put your lemons in there.”
The woman said, “But there’s not enough room in my regular rubbish bin.”
They said, “Why don’t you eat the lemons?”
“I don’t like lemons.”
“Share them.”
“Give them away for free? No way.”
“I'm sorry? . . . I thought you said you don’t like lemons.”
“Yes, but I’m not giving them away for free when they're sold at the market for so much a kilo.”
“[Sigh] Why don’t you take them down to the corner and sell them then. You can’t put them in your garden waste bin. That’s for non-food garden waste like weeds and branches.”

I pray the woman didn’t cut the tree down as one last spiteful resort.

Did you know that many trees and bushes share root systems? If you poison a large Camphor Laurel tree, for example, you may see another tree fall dead 100 meters away! So if I treat my neighbor with poison (or stinginess), how do I know it won’t also poison or devour who and what I know and love?

Did you know that your neighbor is not only the one living on your block? Even God is a neighbor. As unknown as God typically is, God treats every neighbor with free sunshine and rain along with the breath of life. What a great neighbor!

Say I have a lemon tree in my backyard, not of my own planting, along with a home which I can afford because I've been welcomed into my particular socio-economic class. Am I the kind of neighbor that accepts these gifts thanklessly? Am I the kind of neighbor who hordes? Do I poison or steal? I’m trying to be honest about these questions this year so any neighbors can be healed and my own lemon tree, which I could never earn, can bless others.

Permaculture Class, part 1

I began my first permaculture class today. Here are the highlights:

The ethics of permaculture:

Care of earth
Care of people (consider others)
Fair share

The Camphor Laurel tree, for example, shares its root system with other plants and trees. So if you poison it, you also may kill every other tree in a 100 meter radius!

1. Observe [nature] and interact
2. Catch and store energy
3. Obtain a yield [eg food or enjoyment]

This class is free. We meet every other week over 10 weeks. I ran into two people with whom I'd previously volunteered in bush regeneration and community gardens.

I believe growing food [well] is a largely lost skill among Westerners. Perhaps if I become better at it, I can pass on the gift of permaculture gardening to others.

Here's a neat quote from Bill Mollison when asked to define "Permaculture":

It's hard to get your mind around it - I can't. I guess I would know more about permaculture than most people, and I can't define it. It's multi-dimensional - chaos theory was inevitably involved in it from the beginning.

You see, if you're dealing with an assembly of biological systems, you can bring the things together, but you can't connect them. We don't have any power of creation - we have only the power of assembly. So you just stand there and watch things connect to each other, in some amazement actually. You start by doing something right, and you watch it get more right than you thought possible.

Read more here, here, or here.

Locked Out

Several months ago, I locked us out of the house we rent. Later that day I recorded the story of what happened. This is that extraordinary video:

Climb 18 July

Climb

I'm going to bed now and in a few hours I'll hitch a ride down to near Nowra to climb rock outdoors. I finally made up a video of last time I climbed outdoors in April. The beginning of the video is climbing in Hangdog Rock Climbing Gym with Mick on Thursday.

Ella's Signs

Today, I woke up to Ella’s voice at 6:15 AM. She’s running late today. I found her standing in her cot/crib. When in the dark she saw me she made a squeal of inhalation and excitement. I changed her nappy/diaper. Normally, she’s screaming through this part of the morning b/c her nappy’s very wet and she’s very hungry for Mama’s milk. It was much easier this morning for some reason. Instead of screaming, Ella was jabbering on to me about something and using sign language we’ve been trying to teach her. She did the sign for “I want,” “more,” and I think she did the sign for “milk,” though that was hard to see in the dark. She was also using language resembling English words like “more.” Did she say, “I love you, Daddy. Please take me to Mama’s milk soon?” I’m not sure. I was still pretty tired and struggling to open my eyes at that point. Or, did I dream this whole thing?

One thing's for sure, she's precious to me, as is her Mama. Both of them amaze me.

The Problem of Maintenance

I got home last night at 2200h. I drove to a small town about 45 minutes away where Bob was waiting in his shed for me with the timing belt kit, idler pulleys, water pump, and engine oil filter.

It took a while to remove everything to get to the timing belt. Releasing many of the bolts was easier said than done. At some points we were underneath the car. It was up six feet up in the air. And I held some kind of socket-welded-to-a-crow-bar tool on the bolt while Bob hit the end with a 10-pound sledgehammer as we tried to turn the bolt and remove the crankshaft sprocket. After a neighbor came over, hit it a few more times with a hammer and with the rattle gun. Then, he repeated the process a couple more times. Out came the bolt. All the instructions said were, "Now you can remove the crankshaft bolt." LOL. It wasn't quite as simple as the instructions implied.

The other two bolts were not quite as tight, but they were much harder to reach. We spilled a couple liters of coolant while changing the water pump, but that didn't take long. I also met a neighbor of Bob's who's a retired British Specials Forces dude and another neighbor of Eastern Europe descent who was a mechanic for 18 years. And Lorna prepared morning tea, lunch and dinner for us. We ate dinner on the floor of the shed and got right back to work.

Thankfully, putting it all back together didn't take as long as it took to remove everything. I got to have some good conversation with Bob. He said, "I've experienced some intense pressures in my life, but nothing like Christ went through. To think that he went through those pressures out of love . . . well, I say "Thank you" an awful lot." I've known Bob and Lorna since 1998. At least since then, Bob has been helping people work on their own cars for little to no pay and developing a sense of community among his neighbors.

Mulch Day at Home

I worked in my own garden Wednesday. I’ve been volunteering in bush regeneration and giving some community garden help. But my own garden was/is becoming overgrown.

It’s the same way with what some of my new Australian friends are saying about Christians. “They want to tell you how to live, but they don’t want to change themselves.” I haven’t heard that quote quite that directly, but that’s the sentiment I seem to get when someone’s honest with me.

So I went to Bunnings and bought mulch. I brought it home and pulled weeds starting at the end of the front garden that had the least weeds and the most lizards. I enjoy an occasional lizard poke out of the plants to tharn (ie stare at me with fear) for a second and then scurry back into hiding. It’s less overwhelming and more enjoyable to start where it’s easier to make a change.

I poured out 120 litres of Eucalyptus mulch over the semi-weeded area in the lizard zone.

I also weeded around our food plants in the back. Then, I spread a 30 litre bag of moisture retaining mulch around strawberry plants, Thyme, shallots/spring onion, kale and some lettuces, potato, and two choy sums I planted from roots in our refrigerator. Oh, I also mulched this around a lemon tree that looks pretty bad and it seems is under chronic ant attack. Bizarre. I found four dead slugs in the jar of honey/borax I left by the tree to kill/deter ants. No dead ants. I threw the jar away after I licked some of the honey. Just kidding.

I also removed some huge branches (hacked up with my rusty box cutter) from the palm type tree and the purple flowering tree. I threw them on the ground to dry in the sun so I can tear them up for mulch later. I also worked in the compost heap. There were some old, dead branches and bits of Grevilia tree. I hand mulched these and covered the food scraps and lawn clippings we’d piled up in one spot. It was quite a relief to bury the slimy, rotting pile of food scraps before we attracted rats or even ravens.

Here are some pictures of some of what I just described:
Food plants in the back:
Hacked off palms/POMs:
The lizard area in front. Can you see the big one?

Photogenic Kids

One day in May I went walking and climbing around with two precious kids around the harbor. They were very photogenic and we were all giddy because we hadn't seen each other in a while. I believe we saw birds of prey out over the water and a police patrol boat zipping around.

Stories of Alexander the Great, part 1

I volunteer at the site of a former builders tip/landfill. It's a huge mound of barely buried construction refuse on a small part of what used to be Tom Thumb's lagoon (What once was 500 hectares of lagoon is now 5).

Some interesting men and women volunteer with me. One man I find particularly interesting is Michael (pictured above). He grew up in Postwar Macedonia/Yugoslavia . . . anyway, somewhere in the ballpark of where Alexander the Great was born.

But, Michael is at least almost as interesting as Alexander the Great. I'll share one story today and more later.

Michael is telling me while we're eating lunch that yesterday he was working on his hill again up in the trees and tall kikuyu grass as primary/elementary school children were walking along the path below. As they were following their teacher, the five and six year olds looked neither to the right nor to the left. But Michael was hiding in the grass just a few feet above them in the tree shadows watching them like a tiger. Somewhere on the left (in the picture) is where Michael was hiding. He slowly raised up so that if they looked, they'd be able to see him from the nose up. One girl with spider like senses turned to the left suddenly. As she looked right at the wild looking man in the grass, he sunk smoothly back down into hiding. But he could still see her through the tall blades of grass. She mentioned what she'd seen to her classmates who all stopped and started staring into the grass trying to find him. Some of them, of course, didn't know why they were stopped and were just looking around at butterflies or asking the person next to them, "Why are we stopped?" So, this little girl was busy telling and the news was passing down the line.

Michael said eventually the teacher, a male, came over to the girl who'd witnessed the bush animal. She made the teacher bend down so she could whisper in his ear. The teacher looked into the grass as she pointed to where she'd surely seen whatever it was. At which point Michael slowly raised up once more so that he was only visible to them from the nose up. At which point a boy looking intently to where the girl was pointing shouted, "TARZAN!" Then, there was more great commotion as everyone saw what the little girl had witnessed. The line moved on anyhow and Michael was left laughing in the grass before he got back to work pulling invasive species out or planting or whatever it is he does on his hill.

Not as Big gives way to Gong Alien

I got tired of blogging my old way. The old blog was morphing already, but I felt the need for a new start, a new pattern. The old blog was called "not as big as i am." This new one is called "Gong Alien."

I used to write reflections of processes going on in my head. Now I want to tell more stories instead of explain concepts and I want to just log my daily life without getting too abstract. I want to observe and share what happens in my life, but I won't always analyze every little thing. I'll also try not to just post links to other stuff on the internet unless it's a recent video from my life. So, . . . . I hope this new blog will be more day-to-day life focused.

So, I want to introduce myself just for the purpose of seeing where I'm at in my life's journey right now. Instead of explaining where I've been (a lot), I'll just display my present, what I'm seeing right now.

I'll try to post pictures and tell about my day starting in the next post.

By the way, I'm a 34-year old (for now) alien living in Wollongong, Australia with my Australian wife, Nicole, and our daughter, Ella. Also, our son is with us, but he's yet to be born. I'm an alien living in the Gong. This is my life.

Here's my first picture: