New Name

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While I was working on the archives computer, the archivist came in and announced that the New Zealand historian Michael King had died in a car accident. Apparently it caught fire and he and his wife were killed. He was in remission from cancer. As the archivist was orginally a historian she is upset by the news.

The New Zealand Presbyterian List are debating whether individual parishes still want to be known as ‘presbyterian’. The branding has become unfashionable in some circles.

After reading some more Titus Groan at lunchtime I met one of our Reverend Doctors Emeriti coming down the stairs from the library carefully so he didn’t fall over. I have not been to the public library in a couple of weeks. I have enough books at home to keep me busy reading them until I have caught up and catalogued all that I want permanently on my shelves. I am reading a book printed in 1933 about Christian Mysticism.

My cold is back and I have put myself back on the sudafed. I have been to the gym today and that has helped a bit. It hurts in my teeth.

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Temple of Doom

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I checked my cellphone again today for the first time this week and it has decided to fail on me again. I suspect it is the same problem as last time again: the contacts that power it have failed again. This is the second time in about six months. This time it is out of warrenty. Blah. I will have to take it in to David at Dick Smiths and see what he can do for me. Maybe they can get it to go again. There will be a price for me to pay.

Yvonne had to open a box of records the archives have just received from the presbytery of South Dunedin to find some cemetary records. A resident arrived from the other wing of the College to see if we could find any information on the Knox moko as they are preforming their haka tonight. I have asked Jane if she has a copy of the BBC book, The Making of Gormenghast, as I would like to read that as I am reading the trilogy. She thinks her daughter has a copy. I read a little from Titus Groan at lunchtime then I go work on the COMEC journals on the journal floor where I can watch the residents going past while I am still in a Gormenghastian frame of mind. What a weird sensation.

I left the archives early today so I could go out with Felicity. She met me a block between the college and home. She dropped off an electric blanket to her son on Hatfield Street and then we went straight out to see Robert. His memoirs haven’t advanced any further so we visited South American Moche Culture exhibition, The Temple of Doom at the museum. Disturbing rituals of human sacrifice. On the downside it meant that I didn’t get to the gym today. I will have to catch up by going in on Saturday.

My mother rang in the evening to ask if I knew the answer to this weeks ConcertFM competition, What company built Norma, the Dunedin Townhall pipe organ? (Answer: Hill, Norman, & Beard) I found the answer on the City of Dunedin Website. She has been involved with the Impact World Tour in Invercargill as a counsellor. She says it was very loud. Nevertheless I will be avoiding attending the Dunedin shows.

Tonight’s celebrity death: Alister Cooke. The last Letter from America has been posted.

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I finished my editorial and delivered it to Hana who was studying on the journal floor. I don’t know why my editorials tend to be so literal about religious matters. I believe in the symbolism of Christianity through faith, rather than its literal reality. I wait to see what other parishioners are going to think about what I have written.

The assistant archivist wanted the computer today so I stayed on the journal floor all day. Not many people passed through. I saw the principal of the School of Ministry showing a friend around.

Felicity rang before I got home after half past two. She didn’t have time to go down to St Kilda and see Robert today. We agreed to put it off until tomorrow. That is a little annoying as it means I will lose out on that afternoon when I could have gone into town, and to the gym, etc.

I didn’t mention that I weighed myself at the gym last week and I’m now down to 73.3 kilo.

Before I made tea I looked at the online stores for Griffler Enterprises. I have not done any work on them in two weeks and they are falling behind. Ian sent me an email yesterday enquiring about the amount of work I am putting into those sites. I looked at them this afternoon. In the meantime he and TR have done most of the backlog of stuff that I have allowed to accumulate. Bad me!

There is a box sitting underneath one of my speakers on top of my sideboard under the north windows. It is a CD holder that Joe is letting me use as it was sitting outside and he has no use for it at the moment. I’m slowing filling it with CDs as I listen to them.

I made chicken with sour cream for tea, leaving out the bits that were too mature to use. Since those bits were striving for their independence I washed out the pottle and sent it all down the sink. Good luck guys!

I peeled the skin off the chicken since I didn’t want to stirfry them. Tessa watched me with interest. I gave them to her. She consumed them while my back was turned, and kept hoping for more. Eventually I had to send her out of the kitchen.

I can now direct readers to a photos of my flatmate Joe Skinner with his old haircut and his new haircut.

Scary, isn’t it?

Fifth Sunday in Lent

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I am starting to have difficulties dealing with Graeme at church. The children did a demonstration of the memory verses they had learned with stickers as rewards and Graeme got it into his head that he wanted a sticker too; then one of the posters that I had brought with me for the Procession with Cross…. At the end of the service I got him to wait so we did not monopolise the preacher while people left the church. That took longer than I expected and he got impatient. Despite his ride was waiting we had to go for a drink after the service, although all the biscuits were gone by the time we got there.

The weather was blustery enough that one load of washing was blown dry. I got another lot out as the rain was just starting.

Still working on the editorial that I am writing for the Opoho Signal. The newsletter editor rang during the afternoon and I will get the editorial to her tomorrow at Knox College. We spent half an hour discussing what had happened at Nominations Committee as well.

We watched Top Gear in the evening, and then I watched a tribute to the late rally driver Possum Bourne, which I found more earnest than good.

Back to finishing this editorial.

Isn’t that a tentacle?

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I was half awake at five in the morning. I stretched my legs and caused one calf to clench with cramp. I had to stand up to use the weight to unknot it.

I answered the telephone at matins. It was Mark from church calling to remind me that there was a music group on today at one o’clock. After that I listened to Meridian Music Review and had breakfast. I finished reading The Longest Road by Guy Gavriel Kay, and later in the day picked up Titus Groan by Mervyn Peake, and read a few chapters of that, enjoying the language.

I started writing my editorial but I let other things distract me away from it. I found a number of old envelopes and used them to work out the Kemrese elections up to present day. In the afternoon there was music practice. The weather was iffy: wind and rain and periods of sunshine, not much in the way of warmth.

At evensong I stopped what I was doing to make tea. Mike and Joe quarrelled over tea as Mike does not pull the curtains when it gets dark, often sitting in the cold, watching television. He snubbed Joe after that until he went out.

We watched Monk in the evening. For anyone who doesn’t like clowns or circuses it was was a scary episode. While it was on Harry rang and invited us out to have a board game evening. I was out until midnight.

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Can I enter friday before friday ends? We shall see.

Last work day of the week. I spent the first half of the day typing entries to the Overseas Missions Committee collection on ARK and then in the afternoon I sorted through the COMEC journals. The School of Ministry had a powhiri (welcome) in the outside the doors of the building. I’m not sure what the significance was. The year is already under way so it was not for that.

After the powhiri, the warm weather turned to rain. I wish I was at home could have got my washing in before then.

Ellie has been and left some posters for Opoho church to advertise the Procession with Cross on Good Friday.

I have found some more envelops and so I am working on election results for Kemr. I am up to 1986 now. Really I should be thinking about the editorial that I should write for the Opoho Signal, the church monthly newsletter. It has to be written by Sunday and I keep putting it off. I am thinking of writing about doing the test that found out what level of hell that I am going to.

In the evening Joe and I went to the supermarket. The amount came to what I wanted it to, including paying for Friday night’s tea. As daylight saving is over it was dark before we got home.

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There was a message for me to ring a member of the church when I got home. She asked me to meet with the people from Sacred Heart Church who were oganising part of this year’s procession of the cross in North East Valley.

Later Joe and I walked into town to pay the phone bill. Joe talked to be about the difference between laptops and portable desktops. I did not really listen or follow the description as I was thinking about a situation that I have got myself into that I cannot make public. We split up in town. I paid the bill, went to Bag End and then to the gym.

When I got home Mike complained that Tessa had jumped onto the sink bench and smashed the largest of our glasses.

Tao is behaving funny. She and Fremen are playing pointy-ended tag.

In the evening I sat down with Mike and another woman from Sacred Heart and we brain-stormed on the theme “Who do you say that I am”, looking at Gospel texts that spoke from the Roman occupiers’ perspective. I invited Jenny Bunce from over the road to join us. We found three perspectives that built up to a climax: Pilate’s wife (an innocent man); Pilate himself (the king of the Judeans); and the centurion at the cross (child of god). By the end we had the bones of something put together.

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