A Time of Change

2023, the year of the Rabbit. A year of peace and patience, according to my Chinese friend.  He also mentioned prosperity, but he says that to me every year.  I'm not sure if the prosperity thing is a Chinese thing, or just him. But overall, apparently, 2023 is a year of hope.

It certainly feels like a time of change.  The weather has mellowed, we're in the middle of renovations, there are a few long-term colleagues moving on from my team at the moment, one of my favourite magazines is closing down, and several TV shows I like are not being renewed.

I suppose that is true every year, but this year it seems more obvious to me, more of these factors aligning and occurring at the same time. Even a couple of my friends have commented on it.

I'm not one to make New Year resolutions, and I don't plan to start now. But beneath the pain that accompanies pain, there is a sense of hope. I can feel it deep down.

There are also some changes I want to make. Nothing drastic or life-changing, but a few things I am working towards. Baby steps.  Which is where the 'Patience' part probably comes into play. These changes will take time to come into effect, but I think I will be pleased with it all.

I wouldn't mind some of that prosperity happening either.

Gong xi fa cai.

Camping for Boys.

I've always loved camping. As a kid I was a Cub, then a Scout, and finally a Venturer. My dad was a Scout Leader, and I was lucky to go on some of the Scout camps when I was only a cub. 

It's been a long time since I've done any real camping. In fact it was the turn of the millenium - a mate and I went bush for a week while the world wondered whether the Y2K bug would destroy civilisation. We had no electricity, did much of our cooking on campfires, and had a wonderful time.  There was no internet on phones, no real phone connection anyway, and hardly saw another person. We talked, listened to some music on the car radio, and just chilled.

It was a wonderful week.

I have recently been thinking about a weekend my Dad and I went camping when I was young. He'd promised to take me away, but when Friday rolled around he wasn't feeling well. I think I might have pushed him a bit, but we went and had a fabulous time. I remember being up bush with our tent. He let me wear his commando style hat, which thrilled me no end. The most vivid memory I have is waking up in the middle of the night. I got out of the tent, and dad was sitting by a huge, roaring fire. It was completely dark otherwise, and silent, and we sat on logs and watched the flames. We probably spoke, but so many years later I have no idea what we spoke about. I just know I felt safe, and comfortable, and at peace.

Why has this memory popped up now? I have no idea. But it pleases me to recall that weekend.