resolved

Oops. January is nearly over and I haven't written down my goals for 2010. They are there, in my head, they just haven't become tangible. Part of me thinks "how terrible, you ain't gonna go nowhere" and another part of me scoffs "goals are overrated. Live life as it comes and do the best with what you have each day." I imagine there is truth in both. What goals I do have flow on from steps I started making last year. They are not that startling if you look at at my activities of 2009.

So. No goals, and I didn't make any resolutions either. I spent New Years Eve watching inane movies and viewing the local fireworks from a friend's fabulous verandah overlooking the city. No resolutions, no broken promises. I like it.

Actually that is not quite all true. I did make one resolution. Every time I made a purchase with my credit card I chose to sign because I had no idea what my PIN was. I got a little tired of it all, always joking my head was full of too many numbers without another one, and tap, tap, tapping my foot while the machine printed out the receipt for me to sign. I decided 2010 was the year to get a new PIN and learn it...

Consider it done! I've been to the bank, made the request, committed the number to memory and used it three times.

Resolved.

Now to get onto those other goals, write them down and do them!

it will be good

Now is as good a time as any to confess I am a little intellectually lazy on occasions. Not that I don't think or ponder or puzzle (there is some cogitation going on), but I see no point in arguing for arguments sake. If there is no way to prove a point one way or another, I prefer to conserve my energy, and refuse to engage. There are positives to this (saves time, keeps relationships on a smoother tack), but like I said, sometimes it's laziness. Perhaps there is a solution or truth to be found... I just can't be bothered finding it.

One such topic I avoid is the creation versus evolution debate. Pointless. Were you there? No. Was I? Again no. Let's save our breath and be amazed that we even exist, and leave the detail to God. (Oh I forgot to say, I believe in God... an unprovable being you might suggest. I agree, so let's agree to disagree. There. No argument. See how good this could really be.)

I could add countless other topics to my list, topics too many evangelical protestants tie themselves up in knots over: Was Jonah really swallowed by a whale before being spat up on the beach? Is the story of the ark real? Does hell exist, or will the evil people just cease to be, while the good ones hover in paradise? What will happen to the people who never got a chance to hear about Jesus, leave alone choose to believe in him? (Don't know. Possibly. Hard to say without going there. I'm no judge)

Maybe some of these things are important, but what's the point of arguing. Like I said - were we there? Nope. Let's hang up the boxing gloves and agree there are some mysteries in this strange faith we hold to.

And then there's heaven. What? Where? Who? How? Of course I like to imagine what it might be like. I have a few questions for God hidden up my sleeve, and I quite like the idea of a gigantic home theatre where I can select moments from history and have a quick view. I'm particularly keen to check out that war when Moses held his arms up, then his friends held his arms up, because while he had them in the air the Israelites were winning. Impressive stuff. I'm still figuring out, however, how I will be able to view a war in heaven, where it is said there is no death or fear or tears. Much as I would like this DVD entertainment system to be possible, I might have to live without it.

So heaven overwhelms me. I know it is supposed to be all goodness and light and love, but won't we get bored? And how can I ever choose to be good all the time? And forever... that is a really, really, really long time.

We were discussing all this in our little 'Curious' group tonight when my friend suggested one possibility. Perhaps we will be so caught up in a euphoric crowd moment (that lasts forever) that we will be swept up in the goodness and forever forget everything else. We began imagining what this might be like, and this is what we came up with: the concert in Chicago last September, when a whole crowd danced as one to the Black Eyed Peas 'I got a feelin'. What a buzz. What a moment. All focused on one thing, everyone having a good time, total participation. I like that.

So let's not argue about how heaven might be, where it is, who will get in. Let's think of ways in which it might be wonderful. (and hope everyone gets in)

power bill be gone!

About this time last year, Frank and I were doing the ground work for solar power. Well, mostly it was Frank doing the ground work, and I should also acknowledge the kindness of the honourable Mr Kevin Rudd for making it all possible.

Well, we're not so hot at understanding solar power, and it turns out the suppliers weren't so hot at explaining it, and the power company wasn't so hot at connecting us to the grid. (it's a long story) So the panels weren't installed until May, and believe it or not, we weren't running solar until October. (like I said, it's a long, long story)

Finally, finally we have our first power bill post solar panels.

$1.36

Yup, you read it right. One dollar and thirty six cents.

How awesome is that?! Yeah, so it was a huge outlay... but hey, this thing really is going to pay itself off over ten years! Or maybe that's twenty years? Whatever... it will eventually be worth it.

(And you, my friend, may be using solar power from our house - how cool is that?!)

just hanging around

I rediscovered the library recently. Part of my efforts to spend less. If I borrow books I supposedly will not need to buy them. To date I have reborrowed and reborrowed until I can reborrow no more, hungrily scanned a chapter or two, scribbled random notes and, in the interests of possession, wanted to buy around half of my borrowings. Mixed success there I would say.

Today a book was due, one I was particularly reluctant to give up but had to, since I had reached the outer limits of loan extension. I returned it and picked up the book I had on hold. Tasmania might be small and cut off from the rest of the world, but believe me, the State Library is awesome. I can find any library book in any tiny library anywhere in the state, put a hold on it, and three days later it turns up in my local library ready to be collected. Fantastic. Not so fantastic that I am 65th in line to borrow Margaret Atwood's The Year of the Flood, but you know, I'll get there eventually... I mean, I've moved up one place already.

So while I am waiting, waiting I decided I should prepare myself by reading Oryx and Crake. To be honest, I don't know much about either story, but I like Margaret Atwood (try The Blind Assassin) and with 65 people waiting The Year of the Flood must be good, and Oryx and Crake is apparently the first part of the story, so it makes sense to read it first and get things the right way around.

Book duly in hand, along with Girligami and a title pitched at helping me live green, I set off on the long walk home, weaving my way through my favourite luscious parks as I went. Passing through Princes Square I felt myself rather overwhelmed with longing to sit and linger under the trees and read a book, but I reminded myself I did not have time and kept on goi...

What? Don't have time?

Ha. It is for this very reason I quit my job - to have time to sit in the park and read. So I did. I pulled out my book, sat on a bench between the fountain and flower beds, and read.

Not for long, because one wouldn't want to, you know, enjoy things too much, or let the guard down, or forget that life wasn't meant to be easy. But enough to laugh and feel happy and be in the moment.

And the book was rather fine as well. I'm looking forward to it.