What I Found In The Bathroom This Morning...

So, I'm staying with a really wonderful farming family in Very rural
New South Wales. With a Jesuit friend of mine in tow. We're in the old
bunkhouse where the hired hands used to sleep. This morning I got up
and went to the bathroom and as I was leaving I noticed this large
Huntsman on the doorjam. I then realized my friend had only been in
Australia for a couple of days and his impression is that all wildlife
here is over the top lethal. Which is fairly accurate. But I digress.
Since we're sharing the bathroom, and didn't want him to panic, I woke
him up, told him to put on his glasses and not to panic. Which, of
course made him very nervous. This is what he saw. (Note: I included
the bathroom tiles in the picture for scale.). I am still working on
getting my friend off of the ceiling.

We Put Another...

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Wow. So, it’s been quite a while since I last updated this blog. And I’d love to say that I had a really good excuse for why. But I don’t, really. I just got busy-busier-busiest and never got around to it. And I decided today that since I was taking some time for me, I owed it to all those of you who actually bother following this and stopping by that I need to post a lengthier update.
So what’s been going on, you ask?

Well, let’s see:

Back LAST school holidays, I took a group of 14 boys to the Philippines for just over 3 weeks. It’s a very intense trip for the boys and whoever accompanies them. We spend a day or so in Manila doing a little sight-seeing, then we head to a slum just outside Manila for a week of building houses with Gawad Kalinga, a group dedicated to doing the right thing. Then it’s off to an orphanage for about 4 days, up to a mountain village for 4 days and then 4 days in Muntinlupa prison; a prison of 20,000 inmates and about 3,000 guards. You do the math. When we’re in prison, we spend two days in a youth detention facility, a day in medium security and a day in maximum security. It’s pretty amazing. I was a little edgy about the whole “Yeah, we’re taking your son into a maximum security detention facility. In the Philippines. No, I’m not kidding” thing before we got there. But the rector here, who runs the trip loves the prison and is, in turn, loved by all there. So we were probably safer there than just about anywhere else on the trip. And there were no serious incidents; a couple cases of dysentery, some food poisoning. Those were our most serious medical incidents. I was fine through the whole thing until…
About 36 hours after we got back to Sydney I got sick. I don’t know if it was something I ate just before leaving the PI or it was a hideous flu carried to Sydney by World Youth Day pilgrims (I was in the PI during WYD.) Either way, I went down. Hard. For two weeks. In retrospect, I believe that it was a perfect storm of a helluva cold and traveler’s gut. But every time I thought, “Well, I’ve rounded the corner,“ it started up again. Tenacious doesn’t begin to describe it. It got so bad, I finally asked someone to take me to the doctor. Now, for those of you who know me, you know how serious it was if I was seeking the care of a physician. Whether it was the antibiotics prescribed, or it was just done with me, it doesn’t matter. It ended and I was happy.
Which, I never took a day off in there from school, so I was teaching while I was ill and that should give you some idea of how busy I was and continue to be at St. Aloysius.
Term 3 absolutely FLEW by. Class-class-class-assembly-class-sport-class-cadets. Rinse and repeat. It was just one of those kind of terms. At least the learning curve has eased a bit as I get my ‘teacher’s legs’ back under me and I’ve begun to understand more of the Antipodal education system. Which, by the way, it seems that I have cracked the code on admissions to Notre Dame, a Catholic college at Sydney University and I’ll be starting a Masters in Ed/Diploma of Ed (a fancy term for a masters with a teaching certificate as near as I can tell) and I’ll be starting that program in the fall (Jan/Feb, here). So that’s a big woot. I’m hopeful I’ll be given advanced standing because of all the Graduate work I’ve done previously and be able to knock that degree out in one year. That would be a bonus.



So, our school holidays started two weeks ago and are almost over (wha….? Where’d they go?) As we started to shut down for the holidays we fare welled our Year 12 (Seniors) who will now only return to the school to do their HSC (High School Certificate) Exams which will control: A) Which universities they are admitted to and B) What they are allowed to study there. Yes, you read that correctly. Your course of studies is limited here by how well you do on exams at the end of secondary education. Talk about a little pressure to put on some kids… So we had Valete (farewell) festivities for a few days, the Year 12s acted like idiots for a few days (pranks, and nothing really clever or original, I thought. Only destructive and vandalistic. My respect for them dropped markedly in those last days.) Then I went off on Cadet Bivouac (camp) out on a military range a few hours north of Sydney. Which gave me a chance to walk in the bush and watch the boys do their cadets thing. The funniest part, for me, was watching the Year 7 Cadets on their first camp. Now, understand that most of these boys are urban dwellers from parts of Sydney. Many of them have never been further than about a meter from pavement their whole lives. When you go out to the bush, the sounds of cars disappear and are replaced by…what I consider…nature sounds. For boys of about 12 who have never heard them before, and never been somewhere where there are no streetlights, it can be a scary experience. For me, it was immensely amusing. Especially when you convince them that kangaroos really are carnivorous and that if you leave your fee outside their tents at night, they will nibble them off. A few bumps and bruises, a major bloody nose a few cases of stomachaches, brought on by major sugar overdoses were about the only trauma suffered. Other than a couple cases of major “I wanna go HOME!” home sickness (they stayed and had a ball) it was all good times. And the cadet unit does some need things too. Rappelling (abseiling here), land navigation, archery, and…hovercrafting. Yes, the unit has 3 hovercraft that were designed and fabricated by one of the teachers at school and they are very impressive in action. The boys drive them out on the lake near where we are camped. They don’t move fast but they do skim water and land on a cushion of air. At least as impressive is the cooking that a team of fathers does for the duration of the camp. About 12 dads cooking up a storm. Seriously, there is something just…wrong…with having a choice of 3 different entrees for dinner each night. It goes against the whole point of going to the woods somehow. My suggestion that we ‘eat what we catch’ was met with disdain. So we didn’t.

Following cadets I went to New Zealand for a few days to meet with Bishop Pat Dunn, his education delegate and the group of people there who so desperately want a Jesuit school in Auckland. It was a really good trip for a whole variety of reasons. Not the least of which is that it helped to remind me of why I do what I’m doing here in Australia. I’ve really come to love Australia a great deal. But my heart and real home will always be in New Zealand. It’s just…the air, the people…everything there make it easy for me to feel like I know what I’m doing and that that is what I’m supposed to be doing. It was brief. All too brief. Long story short, things are going well there and we’re probably about 4-5 years from getting the doors open on the school. Some people seem to think that this is a long time. Clearly anyone who thinks that has never worked through a Ministry of Education that funds the construction and upkeep and teacher’s salaries of a school. In New Zealand. But things are going well, overall. Kia Kaha, Aoeteroa.
I got back from New Zealand on Sunday night at 10pm. On Monday I was off for 4 days on a Kairos retreat with some Year 11 boys. As always Kairos/Encounters are wonderful, grace-filled things that will keep you up to 4am at least one night and draw a group of people much, much closer to God. And this one was no exception. Good stuff.

I got back from that on Thursday night and yesterday I went to the physiotherapist for a nagging shoulder injury. Get this; two years in a paratrooper division, four in Special Forces, two combat tours in Afghanistan, and what is it that nearly incapacitates me? Writing report cards. A couple of weeks before school was out, I spent three days at my desk writing reports and comments for report cards. And on the fourth day, my left arm was practically useless. Thinking I had just tweaked it in the weight room, I kept on for about a week before it became too bad for me to handle with just Motrin and stretching. Luckily, I ran in to an Old Boy (alumnus) of the school who runs a physiotherapist business who has done marvels on my shoulder using a traditional treatment of Chinese medicine called GuaSha. So following a follow up which left me looking contused and like I’d been attacked by a giant squid, what is the logical thing to do? Go to the beach of course. So I’m up here at Newport for a day or so. I watched a couple of movies last night, fixed myself some pasta, slept next to an open window facing the beach so I could hear the surf all night, went for a cold morning fin, and, as I was writing earlier today, I watched from the house as two dolphins played out in front of the house. That’s what I’ve really needed. I’ve also spent some time catching up on the Black Death and Feudal Japan since I’m picking up a Year 8 History class and I have to do a 2-week unit on the Black Death and spend the rest of the Term (about 5 weeks) on Feudal Japan. The Feudal Japan thing will be easy, but I had to do some digging (which has been very informative) about the Black Death. That was a crazy couple years, it looks like.

I am also preparing to coach basketball. No, you’re right, I don’t know anything about basketball. Aside from lots and lots of pickup ball I don’t know much about it. But I’ve watched Coach Carter with Samuel L. Jackson and, I have been told, I have the ultimate weapon which will strike fear into the hearts of our opponents: An American Accent. So you need to pray for the 10 D & E teams since they will be my experimentees teams. I may not be able to teach them a lot about basketball, but I can guarantee they will be the team in the best shape on the court. Physical conditioning I can do. And my sister generously sent me 4 books about coaching and drills. One of which is “The Complete Idiot’s Guide To Coaching Youth Basketball.” So I’m covered.

That’s about it for now, but for those of you who want a couple of recommendations, keep on reading my:

RANTS AND RAVES
In an unconventional thing, for me, I want to recommend a couple things to readers. First, I want to recommend The Gaslight Anthem, a New Jersey punk band. Although, if you’re thinking Mohawks and screaming in to the mic, I suggest you reconsider. They cite among their influences, fellow Jersey Boy Bruce Springsteen. And, in my opinion, the influence is all too obvious. They sound like a young, a very young Bruce, circa The Wild, The Innocent and The E Street Shuffle. They’re really, really good. You can, for now, skip their first album (Sink or Swim) and go back later if you want, but for now, run, do not walk (or go to iTunes, I don’t care) and download The ’59 Sound. Brilliant, absolutely brilliant. My favorite tracks include: Miles Davis and the Cool with its heavy syncopation and brilliant lyrics and Here’s Looking At You Kid with it’s Western-tinged guitars and lonely-hearts club lyrics.

I also want to recommend Lars and the Real Girl, which I finally just got around to watching. It got all these really incredible reviews last year and I was skeptical about a movie which features a sex doll as a co-star, thinking it would be something in the mold of American Pie, but it really wasn’t. On the contrary it was a quite little comedy set against the backdrop of a mid-west winter and it’s the story of a man learning to love and engage his world. The acting is top notch, with Ryan Gosling giving a great performance as the title character. Paul Schneider is brilliant too as his brother who both loves and is frightened by his brother’s behavior and feels somewhat responsible. Rush out and rent it right now.

Massive Mountain Moth Madness

Check THIS out. This moth landed this morning and one of the boys picked it up. Perhaps not the brightest move ever, but still impressive. As you can see, the moth's wingspan was about 10 inches. It was far more bird-like than moth. Note the scale between the hand and the moth.

We're leaving the mountains on an overnight bus to Manila where we are being picked up and taken to a retreat house for a couple of quiet, low key days before going in to our final stretch at the prison.

The Rice Terraces of Ifugao

I was here today and these really do live up to their billing as the 8th wonder of the world. The irrigation system is fascinating, since water basically starts at the top and goes to each terraced paddy on its way down. Amazing.

The other shot is one I took on my way to the terraces at a local market. I have eaten there local chilis and am prepared to pronounce them 'atomic.'

Elvis is out of the building...

I'm leading a group of students on an immersion trip to the Philippines for the next few weeks. Myself, another Jesuit, and 14 of our Lads from the school. We spend a couple of days sightseeing in Manila, then, it's off to a mountain village to build houses in a sort of Habitat for Humanity deal, then to another village for a week working in an orphanage/hospice. Finally, we wrap up in a prison, working with the prisoners for a week. Yes, you read that correctly.

All of this means I'm not taking my laptop with me, and I'm reasonably uncertain about the whole mobile phone situation. (Yes, I'll have one, but will I have data access? What will my number be, etc.?) So this may be my last post until near the end of July. So, see you all on the flip side. And, yes, my first-aid kit is bulging.

Oops, wrong pic

But I can tell you that if that IS Australia's best hot dog, they are in deep, deep trouble hot dog wise.

Only in Country Australia

Do you have any idea how hard it is to find a good yodeling fraulien these days?

Of Things Unusual and Mundane

Today was a student free day at school so I decided it was an opportune time to post a blog update.

Life here is mostly how I like it: in a nice, predictable pattern that keeps me moderately busy. That is not to say that The Boys are predictable. Au contrare. Well, after typing that, I begin to rethink it. The Boys are predictable in their unpredictability.

Case in point: Upon collecting an assignment recently, I was entering in the gradebook who turned what in on what date, and while I was not marking the assignment (one teacher marks ALL the projects for consistency in grading, my day will come. Oh yes, my day will come...) I was inspecting it to see who followed directions, etc. It was then that I noticed that two of them were...the same.

Not similar. Identical. Well, identical except for the font (and that hadn't been changed in every place.) Needless to say, this is a breach of academic integrity. So I went through the dance of calling parents, telling them what happened, checking on procedure with the Head of Curriculum (what some would call the Academic Vice Principal in the Northern Hemisphere), and generally keeping everyone involved appraised of the situation, making sure that All Righteousness was fulfilled. It was funny, because one of the things I *wasn't* in this instance was angry. I really was disappointed with the boys who thought that The Man Who Talks Funny was either:

A) Blind or,

B) Stupid

but I wasn't angry or anything. I felt pretty good about the way that I handled it and with the discipline that I meted out in this particular case. I felt like it was fair and just. I think the boys were contrite and a little afraid, which is a reasonable reaction when dealing with an unknown quantity like a foreigner such as myself. But I actually like both of these students and, inshallah, we have nipped an academic problem in the bud and they will learn from the experience the next time they think: "Hey, maybe I could just..."

In other areas, I am heading back out to West Wyalong tomorrow for the Queen's Birthday Weekend. (You Northern Hemisphere types had Memorial Day weekend a couple weeks ago, it's now our turn for a long weekend.)

West Wyalong, you may recall, is a place of great consolation for me. It was a place of good people and good ministry, so I look forward to showing up back out there this weekend on the altar. It will be good to be presiding with those communities of good people again. And I look forward to riding with the pastor again as he runs over kangaroos. He claims that the only time they have ever threatened his automobile is when I am riding with him in the car. But this is a long, (and messy) story. I demure from justifying his scurilous accusations with a response. I am no 'roo magnet.

I feel like I'm still getting my feet on the ground, culturally and educationally. I'm still trying to work out the significant differences between the US and Aussie systems. Usually it happens that I am chugging along and I ask the wrong question, which I don't even know is the wrong question. Then I get a response that, to the responder, must seem self-evident. But it illustrates the tribal social nature of teaching, like all professions; it has its own language both in the US and here. And frequently the name for a concept I have is very different from the term used here in the Great South Land of the Holy Spirit. So I probably look like an idiot to my peers in the Religious Education department. But they are tolerant of my idiot savant nature for the most part and always helpful.

I've also helped out with a couple fundraising things. But I am really nervous about that one because while I may have some proven facility in this realm, I have no desire to be 'The One Who Can Raise the Funds" as many are. I like working with the boys directly too much for that. Ah, yes, I wandered from that earlier.

I find I DO like working directly with The Boys. They are frequently like some sort of amusing subject from a Walt Disney nature short. You know, the one where the raccoons get in to the cabin and get up to all kinds of hijinks that make you laugh. Unless, of course, it's your cabin. But more often than not, their intent is good. This sometimes just smooths out the ride to Hell, of course, as the old saw goes. But it is frequently funny to observe too.

I am also preparing for an immersion trip with a group of 14 Boys to the Philippines in late June through mid-July. I really think it will be a good trip, if a challenging one. We take the boys to an orphange for a week, we work in a very rural village building Habitat for Humanity style houses for a week and we work in a maximum security Filipino prison for a week. Yes, you read that last line correctly. Needless to say, the visions of disaster that dance through my head are myriad. But they've been running the trip for a long time and with great results, I hear. Apparently the prisoners like and respect The Boys we bring and there have never been any problems. That was all prior to my arrival, of course. But I shall reserve judgment until the trip is done.

Someone recently asked me if I was homesick. I hope that those of you I left in the Northern Hemisphere will not take it ill if that I replied in the negative. I miss a great many of the people, yes, sure. But I really like the turn that my life has taken here. I begin to feel a part of something again. Something corporate here. I am still in the early stages, yet, of course. And many things may change. One of the unexpected joys I have come to here is how many immigrants there are here in Australia and how quickly they accept another immigrant (me, in this case.) I find myself wondering if this is how it was for my forbearers who came to the United States. While I am a foreigner and cannot, and do not, want to pretend otherwise, there is a comfort in it too. In being an alien I find a strange comfort. I miss people, but the missing isn't as great as the happiness I've felt with the life I've started down here, which has several things that were missing for me back in the states for the last several years. That's all I'm going to say about that.

I have, because of the lack of internet access in the Jesuit community house where I live, been unable to use Skype, as I like to, to call via voice people I care about in the North. So, if you have been expecting to hear from me, and you haven't, you know why. That should change some time in the next week or so, inshallah. They're supposed to be getting me some sweet, sweet broadband access over there, so some of you should literally be hearing from me soon. But, aside from the broadband, I pray for all of my friends and family in the Northern Hemisphere daily. That will have to do for now.

That's a wrap for now.

Historia de un Letrero (The Story of the Sign)

This short film won the Cannes (say it with me, pronounced, "Cans," not "Khans" to the beautiful people in the know) Film Festival for best online short film. It's beautiful and simple. Enjoy the power of the pen and the power of a small film.

A Sunday Update

As you may have noticed, I haven't really updated lately (other than my Jaiku feed, which are sort of idea-bytes posted from my cell phone.)

I came in to the office to get some work done, and I did, so as long as I was on a word style roll I'd keep it going with a blog post.

First things first: The reason I haven't Skyped some of you is NOT because I don't want to talk to you. It is because the Jesuit community I'm living in doesn't have it's own internet drop. So in order to use the net at all, I have to cross the street to the school and use my work computer. Needless to say, the network at work is locked down and restricted and Skype is not on the menu. That's the bad news. The good news is that the IT guys are coming to install a network in the house and that it HAS to be done by World Youth Day in early July, and with me pestering them, it keeps moving up their 'to-do' list of priorities.

Secondly, what to say? Let's see, I picked up 4 Religious Ed classes, grades 8, 10, 11 and 12. All of which roughly correspond to their American counter parts. The major shift in the teaching (other than the fact that I haven't been in the classroom in quite some time) is that here, while we are all teaching from the same syllabus (not too unusual for me), we will all give the same exam and I need to stay relatively close to where everyone else is. For me, of course, I was used to teaching what I wanted, when I wanted and then writing and grading my own exam, none of which is done here. So that's a shift in mindset.

Thirdly, it's great to be back in Australia. The last week has been pretty tough in some ways, with a friend of mine being killed in Afghanistan, and another Army guy I know getting busted for sexual assualt/solicitation/generally being a bad person with a minor over the internet. That one really threw me for a loop since I wouldn't have suspected that: A) He would act in such a fashion and B) With the state of these sorts of things always being reported about, that he was DUMB enough to do this. But there you go. In light of that, I'm really glad to be back here. I've had a good talk with some friends in New Zealand, and I'm moving slowly back in that direction, but I'll have some time to do here in Australia before we make that leap. Part of the consoling movement of the Spirit in all of this is functioning like a priest again. I do daily Masses at a community of Loretto sisters who have a girl's school near by, Jesuit community and school Masses, etc. That's REALLY nice for me. Also, the greeting I have received upon returning has been pretty overwhelming. Jesuits, friends and retreatants have let me know how glad they are that I'm back here, and that's really nice.

So school is keeping me busy (basically 6 days a week, with Saturday Sport [note the lack of 's' that we would append in the US]; ALL sporting events happen on Saturday, so going from volleyball to tae kwon do to soccer to rugby to tennis pretty much devours an entire day). I'm feeling pretty good about things and I've started running again, feebly for right now, but I am hopeful that I'll be able to do the City2Surf again in August.

I miss many of you in the Northern Hemisphere, and think and pray for you often, but I'm glad I'm here. No, gladder than that. I'm REALLY glad I'm here.

More soon, and watch my Jaiku feed for (trivial) daily updates.

SFSJ

One Chapter Ends...Another Begins

I awoke early this morning. After months of waiting and enough bureaucratic paperwork to choke a starving donkey, my visa finally came through and I'm Australia bound.

I got the word on the visa on Sunday, and it's been a rush ever since. How do I consistently do that? It must be in my nature somehow that I can never, completely say goodbye to people and have things as organized as possible to make a change like this, even when I have months to prepare to do so. It may be some flaw in my character that resists closure and saying goodbye. Perhaps my Perceiver preference on the Myers-Briggs Type Indicator spectrum that longs to be free of things like deadlines and, ultimately, decisions. Whatever, it's left me packing and repacking (which I did again this morning) and feeling like I should call all of the contacts in my cell phone and on my computer. And feeling guilty because I haven't talked to everyone I *should* talk to. But it is very me, somehow.

And here I stand looking out over Rubicon, wondering what lies on the other side. In this case, Rubicon has "Quantas" and a kangaroo logo painted on its side. Talking to a friend, the PAgent Man, the other day and trying to describe the feeling, I said that it felt like when I reported to basic. That same sense of unknowability and uncertainty are pervasive. The nervousness almost palpable. And yet the excitement of starting something new and really launching in to something I want to do. All mingle together in some strange cocktail of joy and melancholy. How does that work inside, I wonder.

So, if I haven't said goodbye to, and I likely should have, then I do so here. And I invite you come and see what it is I'm doing. And to keep checking back here for updates of another sort.

I'm beginning, just beginning, to see that things don't "end" as we understand that term, in life, they just change into something completely different. And completely unexpected. The one thing I do know? That whatever you think something is or will be, that is most certainly what it will NOT be. Now, you'll excuse me, I have to go south, far south, to find out what things aren't.

"So this is the New Year..."

"...and I don't feel any different."

That's the first line of the song "New Year" by Death Cab For Cutie. And I felt that both, re-initiating the blog and the song lyric were appropriate for today. As even the most casual observer will note, I haven't posted anything outside of my Jaiku feeds since I left Australia back in September. I decided that the turning of the year was an appropriate time to begin again and issue some updates.

Part of the reason that I've held off so long is because I wanted to have my future (more or less) settled before I said anything, especially here in the blogosphere. No, for those of you with whom I have more regular contact, none of this will be particularly surprising.

I have been missioned by the Society back to the Australian province to help in trying to get a Jesuit school started in New Zealand. That's the long-term goal. But it's going to take some work and some ramping up. Which means that I will be going back to Australia to work in one of their existing schools (St. Aloysius, in Sydney) to get the feel of English descended, Antipodal secondary education. And, in my opinion, to understudy under a Jesuit there who started a school in Sydney and learn from him, first-hand, how he (and the Society in Australia) do mission and identity work. And also, let's be frank here, so that the Australian Jesuits can get to know me and I can get to know them. All of which is incredibly reasonable. So. That, for some of you may be the Big News. (By the way, the photo under the masthead is the view from the old Jesuit residence where I will be living and working. Don't feel too bad for me, I'll take this one for the team...)

It's been challenging trying to get all the coordination done, get provincials to talk on the same sheet of music, etc. etc. But it's finally come together. So for the next six years, I'll be down south. Waaaay down south.

Now, the Society has missioned me there, but I'd be lying if I didn't cop to the fact that I am wildly in love with both Australia and New Zealand. New Zealand more so, but Aussie is a wonderful place too, and both have been absolutely remarkable in what they've meant for my growth and where I've found life in the last few years. While we are in the 'Full Disclosure' mode, (or at least as full a disclosure as you are likely to get out of me on the web,) part of my asking for this assignment revolves around how increasingly challenging I've found it to live in the US the last few years. Especially since the war and returning from Active Duty in the Army. Sheesh, you want to talk about complicated. I'm not even going to try, in this space, to explain how it feels and why I need to get out. You just wouldn't understand. Some days, I don't understand. But, if you catch me in person, maybe I can try to fill you in.

So, since returning to Seattle from Australia, I've been working a little development, trying to re-organize my junk (and, while I may not have a lot of stuff by some standards, YOU try getting ready to move half a world a way and see what you think is indispensable and what goes into the circular file,) getting out of the Army, helping out at a parish here and there, running the Seattle Half Marathon, and working on.... a book. Which is about 1/2-2/3 of the way completed by my count. The working title is the same as this blog. I chose that title because so much has gone on for me under night time skies that are so alien to the ones I grew up under. Terror and blood. Healing and grace. Beauty and chaos. And trying to find the words to communicate all of that is both good and challenging and cathartic all at the same time. And as a writer, I know how frustratingly limiting words can be some times. It's strange because, as sloppy as I am about some things (anyone who has seen my room can attest to this,) when it comes to language, I am like some bizarre craftsman, carefully lathing each verb so that it is precisely the perfect fit into the sentences I've constructed. Writing is, in my world, definitely a craft, and what some are able to do with wood; shaping, carving, sanding, finishing, polishing to a high sheen, I choose to do with language. Will this book ever be finished? Will it ever be published? I don't know. But if these things do begin to coalesce, watch this space for an update. I owe you that much if you are reading this now.

I will not vow that I will be more regular, or effusive in these posts. Only that I want to keep people informed and this is an easy way to do it. At least, it's easier than writing: A) 20-40 individual emails or B) 1 email and shotgun blasting it out. But at least I'm back. I hope you'll come along for the ride...