Weathered copper wiring and piping which have been burnt

cannot tell of the horror of the 7^th February, 2009, but there is a strange kind of beauty in this photograph. Nor can it tell of the sheer terror that we heard voiced to us on Sunday, as we were privileged to meet a family whose business was destroyed in the fires, and despite everything hopes live on.

Rebuilding is a slow process, and fresh green shoots sprouting on blackened tree trunks, an old wheelbarrow planted with some flowers to brighten the bleak landscape.

Looking upwards, on this wintry day (seven degrees C) we saw snow on the distant hills, and the nearer ridge shows the stark outline of fire ravaged trees, a black lacy edging to the mountain.

I have written before that one of the pleasures of living as close to the Docklands Stadium as we do is getting home after the end of the match, and being able to watch much of the last quarter of the match on delayed replay. The weekend before last was a little different, we had a car parking pass for underneath the stadium, which was very luxurious, and even though we got home in less than our normal time, the game had been telecast direct, so we were too late to see the customary sight of the Saints players in a ring belting out "Oh, when the Saints, go marching in..." in tuneless, but very enthusiastic style....

Happily, one of the pay TV channels did have the replay, so I was happy enough to watch another half of football, as the reality of 14 straight wins began to sink in.

A couple of weeks before, I had been to the match, watched the last quarter when I got home on delayed replay, and then at the end of the week, watched the Saints replay in the Pay TV best quarter of football for the week...I am not even a little bit shame faced about it....

Gentle digs from fans of rival clubs and people who care little for sport do nothing to dent the pleasure of the moment...for long suffering fans of St Kilda, we hardly know how to react to a string of wins which now stands at 15-0; premiership favouritism and sheer enjoyment of where we are now, two matches clear of the previous favourite.

Pink Ukulele and Y are enjoying a holiday in Lebanon at the moment, and will be there for another few weeks. Normally, email correspondences relate tales of chicken, and garlic and other Lebanese specialities, which make the mouth water, and I think about taking a trip there ourselves sometime, when the timing is right.  The second paragraph of an email I received yesterday morning was an unpleasant surprise:

One minor hiccup to inform you of - we were in a car accident last night but everyone is fine. We had been out at a local village (eating) and Y's uncle  was driving back to their mountain home at about 2am. His wife was in the front and Y and I were in the back. We were driving down the side of a mountain and the road was quite slippery with an oil spill from a previous accident, and all of a sudden an ambulance smashed into our car.

It's all good news; no one had any injuries, except for the car, which is repairable and replaceable.

I know that something like this could just as easily happen here in Australia, and the thought crosses my mind briefly of something my grandfather said, many years ago when my mother was involved in a very serious car accident, from which she did recover, but it was touch and go for several days. Grandpa had said: "If only she hadn't been coming back from ..., this never would have happened".  In the context of a person growing up in an isolated rural community, with his youngest daughter's life in the balance, only a few short years since the death of my grandmother, this feeling can be understood.

I hope that I can always be encouraging of those that I care about in their endeavours, and in living the dreams and doing what they feel that they must do. Finding themselves in less than safe localities, at least by Australian standards, whether living, working or holidaying is something that is their decision to make, not mine.

"If you love something, set it free. If they come back they're yours; if they don't they never were." Jonathan Bach

Just take care...

Fist of all it is necessary to know that not a word is spoken during the film, which won an award at Berlin in a film festival a few years ago.

The scene is a metro railway carriage, and a young man who gets on to the train, in a crowded carriage and an attractive young woman who sits in the vacant seat next to him, and how two people can connect without speaking a single word.

The communication comes, as he is reading a book, he shows her some words as he is underlining them: the words aren't necessarily the correct spelling of what he wants to say, but the sound is, as he underlines:

"Les regards autour son sur vous

Je ne peut voir votre visage mais les regard parle... »

(Everyone around is looking at you, I can't see your face but their looks tell)

She underlines and shows him, in the book she is reading :

Ils ne disent rien pour vous

(They say nothing about you)

Etcetera

Eventually, she writes her phone number on her book, just as she arises to get off the train

Suffice it to say, almost every female I have related this to, gets a little weak at the knees at the idea of the romance evoked in just a few minutes of film footage and nine sentences. On the other hand, most of the males are completely underwhelmed...

What does grate-papier mean? According to my dictionary- pencil pusher...

Anticipation had been building for weeks, as inexorably, both Geelong (Cats) and St Kilda (Saints) headed towards an unprecedented showdown: two undefeated teams after thirteen rounds. The media was full of the anticipated clash and at work, on Friday, few conversations between footy fans excluded mention of the match.

I had been very disappointed, a few weeks ago, when tickets came on sale to have missed out, even though we have memberships, because of the limited capacity of the Docklands Stadium. The AFL had been unable to broker a deal to move the match to the MCG. But a pair of tickets came our way on Thursday, and on Sunday afternoon we headed off to the Docklands for the showdown.

As we found our seats, the Saints fans sitting next to us smiled, co-conspiratorially, good to have some of your team's followers sitting next to you, in case you are surrounded by a nest of vocal Cats supporters.

The Cats players came out first, and the roar from their fans seemed deafening, I've not heard such a loud cheer at the Docklands before, but my fears were allayed a few moments later when the Saints came out to an even more thunderous roar, going through their warm ups. The noise, and tension which was almost palpable as the umpire raised the ball to make the first bounce was spine chilling, and the game began...

St Kilda scored the first five goals of the match, but even at that point, I knew that Geelong would not roll over, and so it proved.

I will spare you the details of a ball by ball description, except to say that with two minutes to go, the scores were level. Saint Michael Gardiner took an inspiring mark, 20 metres out with a minute and twenty seconds to go. As he took the mark, one of the Geelong players, Harry Taylor, crashed heavily to the ground, hitting his head, and play stopped while he was carted off on a stretcher, unconscious.

Gardiner sealed the victory with a goal, and all that remained was to make sure that St Kilda controlled the remaining minute of play.

Inspiring marks, and goals from Nick Riewoldt, Justin Koschitzke and Michael Gardiner, exceptional tackling and staunch defence, and Geelong not giving up, made for a sensational game.

54,444 fans lapped up the excitement, then the final siren, with St Kilda gaining their 14^th straight victory: the dream lives on....