The last few nights I have been reliving my grunge past, listening to The Smashing Pumpkins late whilst starring at this screen. Its rather pathetic, but I am drawn to do it; the feelings or memories of feelings come rushing back.

Last week I managed to convince Tim to let me borrow a New Zealand Anglican Prayer Book for use at home. I do highly rate their morning and evening devotions and prayers. I think shall need to find a permanent copy of my own. According to Aaron there are some reformedish ones out there to which haven't been church sponsored. I might keep my eyes open for those as well.

Wisdom calls, I hear her ever so faintly.
Her voice is soft enough for me to stubble forward.
I need to sit patiently, listening, learning, lest in haste I fall along the way.
Fall into the depths of despair,
There's no home for me there.

Last weekend was a great success!

Road trip:
Friday - Wellington and Wainui to Kiriwhakapapa via Masterton for dinner at the Bairds
Saturday - Kiriwhakapapa to Mahia Beach via Napier for lunch by waterfront.

Friday Night:
Got to masterton and went grocery shopping. Started to stress. Pies and mash for dins. Courtney tries to wind me up as we pack. Finally packed and on our way in the dark. Stop by Anna's grandparents for a chin wag. Hit Kiriwhakapapa. Find a flat site and figure out how to assemble tent whilst being bombarded by moths with wingspan of 15cm. Tent up and fire going. Mmmm marshmellows by fire. Cigar. Bed, but doors left open so very cool.

Saturday:
Up at 7 am look to cook breakfast. Wind picks up and begins to attack tent. Tent suffers one broken pole and torn mesh before it surrenders. Sausages, egg and damper for breakfast. Half arsed pack up and we on our way.

Stop along the way for ice-cream and poetry. Make Napier, buy food stuffs from Countdown and find the beach. Picnic under tree next to tempting book stall. Munch, yum. Frolic and play in the sea. Girls wrestle and Courtney's glasses are lost to the unforgiving waves. Boys chill playing platonque. Esther begs to swim but is forbidden. Hunt and secure sunnies for Courtney. Back on the road again. Travel further north-east than I have ever been. Arrive at Mahia Beach at 6pmish. Girls hit the kitchen for burger prep and boys tackle the tent, in the light. Tent up, barbar quing, and we are satisfied. Find spot on beach. Raid all the sweet woods before the kids next door could. Fire'a'roaring. Seated, getting cosy and roasting once again. Wasp and wind attack Esther. Suffered burn and sting to hand. The beach quietens. Scream, the wasp goes in for the kill, striking the neck. Anna steps in and crushes the wasp with shoe. Everyone tense and on the look out for more of the winged creatures. Wood runs out, we tire and head home. Stars are shooting, we are daring and telling of truth. Biscuit does not slide down with dish washing liquid. Snake dance arouses. Bed time.

Sunday:
Wake early to clouds. Anna and I go for a fish. Get bites but no takers. Head home. Church time. We sing, we read, we pray and reflect. We tog. Sea warmish and calm. Sea dollars skim. Cold we run to towels. Showers and lunch. Mountaineering time. Around the coast and up a slip. Up and up to the top. Stinging nettle greats us. We lie and rest. Snail attacks Courtney but is exposed. We take flight towards home. Rolling down the hill. Esther twists ankle. Balloon. Seth and I carry, or she bums down. Matthew gets van. Motor camp lady, assesses and provides dressing. Off to Waoria to hospital. Play with wheel chair. Does Dr Tim like Startrek? Courtney wins and cries. Fish and Chips on riverside. Anna and Courtney disappear and two dogs appear? No, Anna and Courtney return. We return to camp and put Esther to bed. No stars, much tired. Bed.

Monday:
Seth up early for run and swim. Courtney showers and showers and showers and showers. I go fishing with stick. Line gets tangled, I give up. Everyone up for breakfast. Scrambled eggs, sausages, tomatoe, fruit salad and museli for breakfast. Little drizzle. Pack up, load van. Seth and Ian throw bottles; girls swoon. Group photo. All aboard and we are off. Napier for munchies of the fast food kind. Stop at Woodville for ice-creams and poetry. Girls win. Masterton, unpack. Courtney has flat. Ian changes to space savers. Pavalova and we off. Home. Unpack, wash and sleep. Oh yeah that was good.

My masculinity was exhibited today through unreasonable excitement whilst having a peek through the new Mitre 10.

true love

true love is a rose
behind glass
is locked and kept closed
maybe just to me
cause my heart's been attacked
and shattered by tough love, bad love
So bought mine off the street
true love man it just can't be beat
i felt so complete
married to heavenly bodies above
and each night i look up
at a bright honey moon
cause it sure seemed built to last
even after my honey moon past
i kept right with it man
like a ghost
to the house it once haunted
and day after day
i'd steal with my true love away
to some hide out we left undisturbed
we could do what we wanted
but i started to feel like a liar
saying i love you
she was madly in love and at me
there's no in between
it raised my alarm
i found i can't make a stand
i'm her hired hand
i have to do harm
one day i got sick
she played me a nasty old trick
said i need cigarettes
walked round the block
caught a cab
stayed gone for too long
my love had gotten so strong
just to try being back on my own
i had to go to rehab
all i need is a safe place to bleed
is this where it's at
half of no chance
steps in a dance
rest of my life's been in combat
now i'm the king of the ward
cause i'm good and i swallow my sword
and puke it out for the doctor to write me a new prescription
tranquil as a dove
people that have lost their true love
they all seem to fit the same description
i feel cold, useless and old
wish i was no one
take me up my Lord
take me up today
take me out of this place
take me up with you today

Torn

Am I a hand, leg or eye?
All part of the body,
But where am I?

This past weekend was the 3rd anniversary of Elliott Smith's death and almost the 3rd anniversary of my obsession. I hope he's in peace.

In accordance with my new found appreciation of icons, relics and saints I found out that the twin bothers Cosmas and Damian are the patron saints of chemists. They were both physicians who worked in the 2nd cent AD accepting no payment for their services, which led them to be nicknamed anargyroi or The Silverless. It is said that by this, they led many to the Christian faith. During the persecution under Diocletian they were arrested, tortured and beheaded.

It is hard not to just bitch and moan when the topic of conservation turns to the Reformy Church (as it invariably does). Hence the goodness of YAC camps where one is exposed to and is caught up in the positive growth of some churches and of other younger peoples still in the Reformy.

Today someone commented that maturity is exhibited when one happily peruses the Country section without being embarrassed. There is no choice really, when Sufjan Stevens, the Pernice Brothers, The Elected, Joanna Newsom...find their home there.

Tonight, whilst typing out my notes from the climate change conference in March, I came across this link http://www.climateprediction.net/ and now have my computer running a climate change model in its spare time. In the past five minutes I have made 0.003% progress so it should be completed in just under 140 hours, yeahor!

Oh dear how can this shite exist:

The American Prophecies: Ancient Scriptures Reveal Our Nation's Future by Michael D. Evans

Showdown With Nuclear Iran – Radical Islam’s Messianic Mission to Destroy Israel and Cripple the United States. Michael D. Evans

Tonight I went along to the second to last session of the Christian Mind series 'Understanding the Middle East.' It was taken by Dr. Nigel Parsons from Massey University who has spent some time studying and researching in Palestine. We were latter joined by Christina Gibb who has just returned from Hebron where she was part of the Christian Peacemaker Team.

My understanding of the middle east crisis has slowly developed from ignorant support of Israel (for they once were the people of God) to a feeling of sadness at the injustice and oppression suffered by the Palestinians. A good percentage of these Palestinians are Christians, yet most of the western Christian comrades support Israel in their oppression. I can't imagine how they feel. At least some Christian groups are getting amongst it. Tonight makes me want to go there even more.

Dr. Parsons pointed that the peace process (Oslo process), rather than consolidate a Palestinian nation, allowed for the increased colonisation and settling of their land. The number of Jewish settlers in the west bank grew from 250,000 to 400,000 over this period.
Israel supports its settlers with 500 million each year, which is about 5 times the amount of international emergency aid given to the Palestinians.
About one third of the population in East Jerusalem is Palestinian who provide about 35 % of the cities tax. Yet only 5 % goes back into supporting the Palestinian population.

Of all the people in the world I would have thought the Jews would have treated others different. But I guess we made them into who they are, through centuries of marginalisation and oppression from the West.