24th and all is well. Surrounded by boxes – sorted and packed. My precious books, which have lost their lives to the goodwill shops, call and I reach mentally for their pages and pictures and wisdom and all. Had to let them go. I know others will get as much joy out of them but something tells me that tangibles are no longer of interest. Intangibles have tempted me to leave for another climate so on 10th January Emirates will transport me sans carpet to my new contract in the east. Am excited about the prospect of hearing new cadences. In 1988, as a music specialist at Marist Brothers Rosalie in Brisbane, four teachers and I took a party of twenty five 16 to 18 year-olds up to Singapore, Malaysia and on to Bangkok. While in Melaka we stayed at a Cannosan Sisters’ retreat house.On the night we were there torrential rain pelted our walls and windows, thrust at the buildings by tropical winds. In the calm after the storm and the shadows of dawn the hymns of the sisters in Chapel and the chant of the Koran across the morning light merged and settled on the new day. If I can hear one more sound in life like this which has fed my soul, instead of the decadent cacophony of Christmas shoppers and the droning of the media hyped up with commercialism, I will be satisfied.

Merry Chrismith to you and to all a goodnight!