A very busy four month period at work seems finally to be easing off, just a little. Time to breathe, to finish off, and move on...

Time to write a little, time to contemplate.

In retrospect, the year has been a busy one...but looking forward to the next year.

Well, almost a week has now passed since the end of the AFL season, and I have found, surprisingly, that life does indeed go on, as the saying goes.

What really got me over it was the chain of natural disasters that have occurred in various parts of Asia and the Pacific this week. The sadness of it all...

I have been blessed with family and friends, and although not everything in our lives goes wonderfully, all the time, we know things can, and do move on.

Grand final week started on Saturday evening, after the result of the Geelong Collingwood match was known, finally we knew who was going to play who, although we've known that there was every chance that the top teams would get there, it's not been unheard of for the leaders at the end of the home and away matches to miss the Grand Final. In case you've been on another planet, the competing teams are St Kilda and Geelong. Thankfully, neither of the top two teams missed out this year. Next, the speculation about who was to win the Fairest and Best award for the year, The Brownlow Medal, which was decided last night was awarded to Gary Ablett Junior, after being favourite three years in a row, this is the first time that this star of the game won. A clear winner, in a superb season, it is an absolute joy to see him play. Almost like a dancer, changing direction with seeming ease, pirouetting around the opposition players; then crowning it all with usually deadly accuracy in front of goal.  He is in the league of those other amazing players, now retired, Robert Harvey of St Kilda and James Hird of Essendon. Readers of this site might recall that last year in Harve's last game, I wept in the stands to see him go, and Hirdy remains a respected figure in the world of AFL.

To GAblett's credit, he has also been able to rise above the expectations of everyone in some ways exceeding the exploits of his famous father, also Gary Ablett, in winning both a Premiership in 2007 and the Brownlow in 2009.

But now, we can move on, after being able to comment on the often tasteful, but sometimes appalling dress sense of the wives and girlfriends of the footballers or club personnel (see The Age for photos)

Now the conversations are couched in terms of: was Collingwood that bad on Saturday night, or was Geelong just really, really good? Opinions on the outcome are divided, with good, logical reasons on both sides. The temptation is to listen to the messages that are favourable to your own team, and to ignore the rest!  

The betting favours the Cats, so apparently the bookmakers are hoping that the tipsters are wrong. Then , as always in these things there are some respected commentators who give the Saints a good chance to win, too.

It all remains to be seen- I just have to survive the week....

Finally, getting to the business end of this year's AFL season, and St Kilda is in the Grand Final, only the fourth appearance in the 120 or more years they have been playing in the competition.

On Friday night we went off to the Preliminary Final with our lovely neighbours, the anticipation and excitement started to build even before we left our street. First stop, to pick up another Saints Fan, C,  in the next suburb. She informed us that she had barely managed to last the week out, she'd listened to all the footy commentary she could find on radio, and some on TV, too, and by Friday evening, was so stirred up she'd had to have a glass of wine and some panadeine with her dinner to calm her down! The talk in the car on the way to the ground was who was going to win, and we agreed that whoever won could put their scarf out the window, to flap away, heralding the triumphant supporters.

Thick traffic is almost always a feature of a Friday evening in Melbourne, and this one was no exception, with nearly 80,000 fans making their way to the MCG. A sea of red, white and black; and red, white and blue was before us, and we found our seats with about 15 minutes to spare before the game started.

We had some excellent seats with a great view behind the goals at the Punt Road end of the ground. The lady who sat in the row in front of us was annoyed to find that she had left her glasses at home, so all she could see was blurry shapes, but I guess she could still pick up on the electric atmosphere, and the roar of the crowd and score lines from her family, seated all around her.

It is traditional for the National Anthem to be played, and the crowd rises as one. Some people do sing the words, but many are just enthralled with the excitement of the evening, and before the anthem finishes, the roar of the crowd almost lifts the players off their feet, and before we know it play has started.

We knew the Western Bulldogs would give it their all, and they started on fire, although poor kicking and the defensive pressure of the Saints kept them to only 2 goals 5 behinds in the first quarter. While feeling very nervous, though, there was never the feeling that the Saints were out of it, because the margin was never more than 16 points, but it was a huge sigh of relief when Dal Santo scored the first goal from a snap from the right pocket, early in the second quarter, to lift the Saints and get them rolling.

Fumbling mistakes, often caused by the sheer pressure of the game, were frustrating on both sides.  Individual brilliance was rare, except for the marking of Riewoldt, and intensity of Hayes, Dal Santo and Goddard for the Saints, and for the Dogs: Boyd, Cooney and Akermanis.

In the discussions that followed the match, some said that the Dogs were robbed, with some dodgy umpiring decisions and poor kicking for goal; but the key to winning is making the most of opportunities, and making sure they are in front at the final siren despite what the umpiring decisions are.

Some football purists might argue that it wasn't a good game, but may of the commentators have said that it was one of the best games they have ever seen. For the level of tension, commitment from the players to give their all, it was an absolute thriller- edge of the seat, heart thumping tension...

On the way home after the game, we decided to flutter scarves from both teams out of the window. The battle had finally been won, but it was so close and had us on the edge of our seats and biting nails for so long, that surely football was the winner, overall.

Now, there is the final week with the build up to the big day on Saturday.

Keep up to speed with my rolling emotional state on twitter: www.twitter.com/suessaints

And on the day game scores will be live on www.afl.com.au

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.

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...

We can all share in someone else's excitement at a change in life, whether it's a new baby, an engagement, marriage or simply a milestone like a birthday, or an arrival or departure.

Counting the days, and hours helps to maintain and build the excitement.

The first time that Aussie Lass flew back from France, I tried to imagine where she was at various times during the long flight from Europe..., counting the hours: thankfully sleep provides a respite for us, at least. All of a sudden, it's off the airport, and waiting for what seems like hours, but is really not very long at all. This time, she and muffin man will be arriving in the evening, so we'll have all day to wait.

Yesterday one of my colleagues was waiting to depart for her first overseas trip, leaving plenty of time to get to the airport, while our more well travelled colleague was much more laid back and blasé about arriving at the last minute. The plane was delayed once, by two hours, then again by another two hours, so that an unpleasant arrival time of midnight (destination time) turned into 4 am arrival at the airport. By the time they got to their hotel it would have been 5 am, and with three hours driving and meetings to attend, today will have turned into a difficult one.

I love going to the airport to meet travellers. If you stand at the gates waiting, you can can see the excitement as people come through the doors from customs, anxiously looking for friends or family, amidst the exhaustion that comes with long haul travel in economy class. There are many stories to be told, no matter where the traveller comes from.

Oh yes, and I am counting the days until the first of the imminent arrivals....49 days until the Aussie Lass and Muffin Man arrive, and doubtless many others to anticipate over the years to come.

A busy couple of weeks, working long hours has meant that I have had little time for updating here, and as I have been so busy, not much time to think about anything else but what needed to be done.

News from a couple of weeks ago: a new baby boy to G and A in Brisbane, a little brother for William.

Another arrival is imminent in Melbourne to P and A...

A 90th birthday party a couple of weeks ago, too, and an 83rd on Saturday.

Time to celebrate.

This morning it was 12 degrees when I was driving to work, hard to believe just under four weeks ago it almost made 48 degrees in  Melbourne. Snow flurries in the Alps today, but good news continues, in that only two bush fires remain to be contained.

Cooler weather means that cats like knees even more than usual. The two little ones find room on one pair of knees, and Coco takes over the other set. Whether or not one wants a warm knee is not at question, it is what must happen.

Mille has now been with us for nearly four weeks, and she and Mischa spend a lot of time chasing each other around the house. That, and sleeping. I would say that Coco tolerates the two babies, but would prefer on the whole to be left to solitude. She has realised that first in is best dressed, though. We've had some enquiries about Millie but noone has yet been keen enough to come and have a look. In the meantime, she is happy, which is a good thing.

Meanwhile, at work, many of the people in our team have enrolled in a 10,000 step a day walking program. The idea is that one determines a base level of activity, which is what we are doing this week, then work on increasing our steps until we are doing at least the target number a day, using pedometers to measure the steps we are taking. I may need to do some shopping trips, because I don't seem to notice the extra steps when out and about thinking about other things. The program lasts for 10 weeks, so we should all notice a big level of improvement in fitness over coming weeks.

In the meantime, it is a source of wonder that some can sit, unmoving for hours and only tally up 200 steps by lunch time, and for others doing 17,000 can be done with relative ease. There have been arguments about what should be done when the pedometer does not mention steps accurately when running, and whether running uses the same number of kilojoules per kilometre travelled. It doesn't really matter, I guess, because if we are doing more then we will be improving fitness.

Rain, gently falling, eases the burden, and while the watch over fires continues, the major danger may now be past.

60,000 tickets to a concert at the MCG in aid of bushfire funds, sold in a matter of a few hours- capacity is just over 100,000, it will be interesting to see how many more are sold.

Prayers for rain were answered, and the relief effort goes on, and will do so for many months.