Facing Transition

 I'm getting my head around the fact that my job is coming to an end next week. 

It's okay. 

Today I went into the office, mostly to say goodbye to some colleagues, many who've been with the firm for over ten years. As I move jobs fairly regularly, the rigmarole of looking for work is something I know how to do. I feel for the 'lifers' who are now sent out to market, most of whom have been awarded sizeable payouts, but they've not had to go on the job-hunting merry-go-round for over a decade. It's daunting. 

For me, I'm getting my head around the fact I'll be on 'leave' for a while. I don't know where I'm going after 1 October. I don't know when I'll start work again - though I don't think it will be very long before something comes my way. I started looking a few weeks ago. I've had an interview. I'm getting call backs. There is a possibility that I may go back to where I am if some funding comes through. 

Regardless, I'm going into 'leave' mode next week. I time block the day. 

• An hour of exercise
• An hour of cleaning/spring cleaning/Marie Kondo-ing the flat
• And hour of job hunting (which gets done early so it's out the way)
• and at least an hour of writing - preferably in a library where distractions are minimalised. 
• And ensure I have some sort of social interaction every day. 

The rest of the time is mine. 

I find job hunting a mind set. Good people get work. The effort is going into finding work. 

It will come. All will be well. I have my Believe post-it, green candles and tarot cards. I manifest all that I need. 

This is just another transition. 

Today's song:

Did you know...

 ... that they have a list of names for the next set of cyclones which will inevitably barrel across the top end over the country for the next couple of months. 

Some common.

Some a bit more out there. 

One girl's name. 

One boy's name. 

This is an improvement - cyclones used to be only named after women, but somebody at the Bureau of Meteorology worked out that this was sexist. If we were to get really politically correct, maybe they should throw in some androgynous or unisex names to bring things into balance - a Sam, or Chris or Bex or Shae wouldn't go astray. 

Moving forward, the Bureau are moving away from whitebread Anglo names too, with Ming Zhu, Niran, Hadi and Trung on the greater list. 

Of course, it's the big and destructive cyclones that get into our group consciousness. The Traceys and Yasis and Marcuses and the Chrises. Names that come to be synonymous with destruction and death. 

 Of course, once a name is used, it can't be used again.

But looking at this list, it's a good mix of old and new. I look at the list and think that it's good that some of the names are there, knowing a few people with some pretty toxic traits. It's rather fitting that they are there. I won''t say which one. 

As a side quest, this was a fun thing to write. 

Now, I will attempt to do the dishes. Let's see what side quests we can go on to avoid that!

Today's song: 

The John Farnham Effect

There was a large concert at Rod Laver Arena last night - a charity event for Head and Neck Cancers celebrating the music of John Farnham. 

John Farnham is a legend. I grew up with him. As a child of the seventies, we grew up with Sadie the Cleaning Lady and his amazing Beatles cover of Help. 

Of course, later in the eighties, Whispering Jack came out, and it was played on repeat for years. I don't need to hear his version of You're the Voice again. Like most things that are over-played it gets under your skin. It's become a theme song, an anthem - in some ways, a proxy national anthem. Of course, anybody over the age of forty knows the words to it. 

He sang the lead with the Little River Band for a while, taking over from Glenn Shorrock - and yes, I'm showing my age, but this was a huge thing when I was a teenager. And Down on the Border is a fantastic song. Farnham's voice is just magic.

And then going into the nineties and the noughties there were the interminable Last Stand concerts. He was still getting out there, but things felt a bit jaded. 

And now we're here. Farnham is in poor health. He was unable to attend last night's extravaganza, but the cast of hundreds did an amazing job from what's been reported. 

He is a legend. His voice has shaped a nation. Unfortunately, his failing health means we'll never hear his extraordinary voice again. Yet his music lives on.  

And finds a new home and way to be performed. This First Nations version of You're the Voice is the only one I need to hear from now on. Having this sung in language makes it even more powerful. I'm sure he loves this. 

Today's song:

Movie Review: Colours of Time

 Movie Number 36 of 2026

The Movie: Colours of Time (La venue d'avenir)

The Cinema: Palace Cinemas Balwyn

Runtime: Two hours five minutes

Stars:  A very solid 4

On this day last year, I was in Paris. It's one of my happy places. I'm 1470 days into Duolingo, having completed the course, I still practice every day. When I can, I try to get along to a French film. It helps to keep your ear in and improve your language, and French cinema is somewhat different to your Hollywood blockbusters. 

Colours of Time (or La venue d'avenir in the French) was the perfect film to see. Not too weird, or heavy, beautifully shot and great fun. Sometimes, French films miss out on the fun - thankfully this one has it in buckets. 

This film, written and directed by Cedric Klapisch, who was responsible for films like The Spanish Apartment and Russian Dolls, this is a film about family, and finding your roots.

The film takes place over two timelines. In modern day France, the large family of Adele Vermillard (Suzanne Lindon) have inherited her abandoned farmhouse, which has remained unoccupied for over 70 years. The large family want to do the best for all and not just sell it to developers to build a new supermarket with ample car parking. The three strands of the family choose a representative to do the work. Seb (Abraham Wapler) a young photographer, Guy (Vincent Macaigne) a beekeeper and nature lover, Celine (Julia Piaton) a stressed-out lawyer and Abdel (Zinedine Soualem) a teacher on the verge of retirement become immersed in the story of their long-gone relative, taking time and care to sort out Adele's belongings and life. 

The other strand shows Adele's life. Adele (Suzanne Lindon) has been raised by her grandmother. On her grandmother's death, she makes her way to Paris to find her mother, leaving behind her beloved, Gaspard. On the journey East, she befriends a painter, Anatole (Paul Kircher) and photographer, Lucien (Vassili Schneider) on their way to make it big in Paris.

It goes on from there, showing what was happening at the turn of the twentieth century, and the findings of the family as they work out just what their great-great-grandmother was all about, often cutting from one age to the other using exactly the same background. In the 1890s, the Eiffel tower as new, Sacre Coeur was being built,,and the city had a grimier feel to it. In the earlier scenes, we meet a lot of luminaries. I will say not more on this, but the cameos were fantastic. 

I really enjoyed this. It was sweet, funny, thought-provoking, gorgeous to look at and it really delved deep into those family ties that bind. 

As French films go, this is very accessible, yet it's not vapid, beautifully set, without being schmaltzy and it bent history in a very cool way. 

This comes highly recommended. 

Today's song: 

Sunday Stealing goes to the other side

 My weekend plans have all changed. The tea blending workshop has been postponed because Jonella isn't well. A movie with Blarney has also been postponed due to unforeseen circumstances - so I find myself at a look end. 

So far:

• I've been to meditation.
• Had breakfast with the meditation crew.
• Read 50 pages of my book. 
• Washed the cat's blankets - it's a great day for this and it's nice to have them fresh. 
• Done some ironing
• Psyched myself up to do some 'big' housework.
• and booked myself a ticket to see a French film (Colours of Time)
• and psyched myself up to do some job hunting.

In all, a fairly productive weekend. 

I'll get the questions out of the way before going to this film in an hour. Questions, as always, come from Sunday Stealing. 

1. Your MOST overused word or phrase:

Oh, there are a few of them. 

Awesome. Horrid work, normally said in jest. 

Actually. I pepper my speech with this far too often. 

And the F word. Normally said under my breath. Roy Kent is my spirit animal. 

2. Your BIGGEST expense:

Depends on what you call an expense. My biggest living expense is rent, followed by insurance and utilities bills. My car, which is well maintained, still costs be a heap in insurance, registration and servicing. 

Fun expenses include, theatre, cinema, books and holidays - all of which are necessary to keep your spirit happy. 

3. Your WORST fear: 

My most irrational fear is huntsman spiders. Although they aren't poisonous the creep the hell out of me. 

On a more existential level, I fear dying alone a painful death. 

I have many other fears, but that is why I'm currently talking regularly to a psychologist to help sort some of these things out. 

4. Your BEST memory of Summer 26:

As I'm Australian, Summer was six months ago, and I'm not a fan of Summer - too hot. But this year, my favourite memory was going to David Byrne's Who is the Sky concert with a friend, who's just as big a Talking Heads tragic as I am. This happened in January. It was awesome. Fabulous night at the Sidney Myer Music Bowl on a perfect night - not too hot, not raining, not windy - all weather patterns that can afflict Melbourne on any given day. I was, with a good friend and the best music ever. Superlative night. 

Today's song:

On the other side

 Maybe cat vomit is a lucky charm? I'm not sure it feels like it at the time when you're cleaning off your duvet and putting the cover in the wash.

I woke this morning to an email. I won $600 on the Powerball last night. 

Thank you, universe. 

In the scheme of things, $600 isn't much. More than a week's rent. It nicely offsets the $700 car service from last week, which feels like a waste of money (although it keeps my careful, only lady driver status for when I move this car on. It can go towards a Gunnas Writer's retreat. It's two night's accommodation in London or Paris.  Or four vet visits (but he only goes once a year, under duress - the cat is fine. Cat's throw up sometimes.)

Regardless, it was nice to wake up to. I’m also grateful that something nice happened to me.

Today's song:

Not Tonight

 I've just had a session with the psychologist, so I'm processing. 

I would go process in bed, but the cat decided to puke on my duvet. It's all been cleaned up, the duvet cover has been washed and is now drying on the airer, the quilt sponged clean - but the bed needs to be remade. (Lucifer is on his throne looking very pleased with himself - I think this was punishment for me going into work three days in a row.)

Anyway, I need some processing time. I also want to make my bed and avoid going to get some ice cream. 

So that's it for the night. 

Process. Make the bed. Do the dishes. Don't eat ice cream (even if you are allowed to eat ice cream after seeing the shrink). 

Night. 

Today's song: