Our last night in the motorhome and we are in Hanmer Springs, a quaint spar town where we are planning to take the waters tomorrow morning. Then it will be on to the luxury of three nights in the Centra hotel in ChristChurch. Hello Centra! Give me Doctor Jazz! He's got what it takes, I'll say he has!

Happy Birthday to all Australians - have a good one.
Lots to catch up on blogwise. We visited the glaciers, Fox and Franz Josef. They are interesting but receding rapidly and we wondered what will become of the tourist industry that has grown up around them when there is nothing left to see.
Feeling all scenic wondered out, we headed to Nelson which was said to have a thriving arts community but this was a lie. Nelson is a dud - don't go there.
So it was back to the scenic wonders and we are currently in Kaikora where we have just been on a snorkelling trip to swim with the seals. We have seen hundreds of seals up close and personal in the last twelve hours and they were all lolling around on ther rocks when we swam out to the reef but unfortunately they weren't in a mood for frollicking with the humans. There we were, six freezing crazies floating around while the seals looked back at us and said, "Nah. Too cold in there for us." Still it was a great trip.
Now my personal Grey Nomad is all ready to take off to Hanmer Springs so gotta go,folks

Up very early this morning to beat a hasty retreat from one-horse -town. We had a spectacular day's drive yesterday and will continue on to the glaciers today. After that I think I'm ready for some more big city action, such as it is, and maybe we'll go to Hamilton where there is said to be a thriving arts community. Anything thriving would do me right now

Te Anau
First a message for Petite Soeur - we've been trying to email you but cannot remember your address. If you send to my groupwise address I can reply to that.
We've had the best day today. Milford Sound is everything they say, just spectacular. Stunning scenery all the way on the drive in and seals, birds and more gorgeous stuff to look at during the two-and-a-half hour cruise. Lunch was a bit miserable but that won't show in our photos.
Tonight we will make our first attempt to cook in the van. Four days in and we haven't used anything much, not even the shower or lav. The van is OK and camp parks are much better than I remember from the eighties but we have decided that we won't be doing the twelve month around Australia thing beloved of other Grey Nomads. I think I prefer the three weeks in Europe or Asia.
Tomorrow we head vaguely in the direction of Franz Joseph.

Te Anau
We just found out about David Hookes this morning. It is a shock and very upsetting. Who could forget his performance in the Centenary Test in 1977? - one of the cricket highlights of my life. Vale Hookesy.

We had a great time in Dunedin and finished off our stay there with a tour through the Cadbury factory and now have enough chocolate to last through several Easters, but no cute chicken-or bunny-shaped ones that we don't have the heart to eat.

We are now in Te Anau waiting for our trip to Milford Sound tomorrow. We're camped right on the lake in a beautiful spot and are now cruising the main drag seeking out a funky spot for dinner tonight.

NZ has been badly affected by drought and we have driven for days through landscape as dry as outback South Australia but have finally arrived in a lusher, greener, very picturesque area. Magnificent.

Internet Cafe, Dunedin
This entry will self destruct in 10 minutes.
Our third day of Grey Nomading in our 'Winnebago', which looked alarmingly big when we first saw it but not nearly big enough when you're actually living in it. Maui have provided the bare minimum of equipment, two spoons, two glasses etc.
Dunedin is beautiful and the experience is enhanced by having been in Edinburgh recently - there are lots of resonances.
We indulged in some industrial tourism today by visiting the Cadbury factory. Tomorow it's off to Milford Sound, a must-do but I'm dreading the cold.

Extreme Librarianship
Tomorrow Right Foot and I are off to the South Island of New Zealand, where I shall avoid Queenstown for fear of being persuaded to jump off a cliff, go white-water rafting, or endure looping loops in a light aircraft. We are Winnebagoing our way around like a couple of Grey Nomads in training, taking it easy. But before I do that I have to finish another submission about why the university will come to a sticky end if our unit on Information Literacy is not found a new home in another core compulsory subject, the previous one having been voted off the campus. Everyone else is jostling for position as well, trying to ensure their special interest makes the cut. I rather enjoy a bit of a barney.

Yesterday was the 12th day of Christmas so we took down the tree after we'd watched Murder Investigation Team, the Pseudo Bill program that is more like the real Bill used to be before it turned into a soap opera. Pseudo Bill has an interesting female lead character. She is small and fiesty and has a ferocious interviewing technique which invariably brings even the most hardened toe-rag or scrote to his knees. I like her style.

I had a call last night from an old friend living in Queensland - let's call her Ofliq - loving life and full of plans for the future: career goals, academic aspirations, personal development. That's what I like to hear from my contempories, none of this retirement plan stuff, thanks all the same.

Extreme Painting
And the saga of the bathroom continues and expands. Poor Right Foot has lost his entire week's holiday and I'm struggling to keep up his morale with endless iced coffees and exaggerated compliments. When it all gets too much for me I escape to the cinema or the shops, hoping vainly for improvement when I return. And, as we only have one bathroom, I have now been holding on for a very long time.

Christmas: beautiful presents, food and drink with beautiful people around the pool at Grumpy and Petite's.
Boxing Day: snapping up bargains in the city.
Saturday: cricket at the G with Liz
Yesterday: more bargains, this time at Chadstone
Today: escape the heat with the Lord of the Rings.
And all interspersed with tasty left-overs and the sounds of poor Right Foot groaning and moaning as he paints the bathroom. It has taken days to scrape back 50 years of unwise colour choices and at leat one attempt to cover up the whole sorry mess with pink and yellow floral wallpaper.
And now, the new Barbara Trapido is ready for me to pick up at Stonnington library.Bliss

Yesterday the RACV finally squeezed me in to their sixty-cars-a-day hailstone damage assessment program. I got off with relatively minor damage, about $2000 worth. I said that as I was paying the excess anyway I wanted my scratches from various pole-wrapping episodes fixed as well. The assessor was a bit dubious at first but suggested I use my 'wiles' on the repairer and tell him that "the boys at the RACV van said you'd look after me." I wonder.

My favourite Christmas sight so far was the elderly woman, embarassed but determined, scalping tickets to Handel's Messiah outside the Melbourne Town Hall on Sunday afternoon.

Another lost weekend but the shopping is done.

Everytime I go into Border's I head for the T section of Fiction hoping to find a new Barbara Trapido and on Saturday I did! Joy to the world but mainly me.
After a couple more bookshops on Sunday I realised how many books I haven't read and am wondering if I'll get through them all before Alzheimer's kicks in. Probably not.

We ran into Petite Soeur at the Cinema on Saturday night, surprisingly dressed in leather. It seems New Boyfriend has a motorbike. Oh hell!!! I remember my mother's dismay at my courtship on the back of Right Foot's motorbike, but I also remember the exhilaration of taking those corners with my face buried in Foot's broad back and the nuisance of wondering what to do with the ruddy helmet when we arrived at our destination ready for a glamorous night out. I bet Petite will think of something.

Stress City. After a week of making merry interspersed with fruitless shopping trips I am now convinced that Christmas is a very very bad idea.

Thursday and Friday I spent at a research writing retreat for our academic staff, helping them with their database searching. It was very successful and S and I were extremely busy. The academics were mightily impressed. A few more brownie points for the library and a couple of excellent bottles of Yarra Valley vino for us. All good.

My renewed enthusiasm for Christmas has waned. I spent several hours on Saturday at Chadstone and a couple more on Sunday in Brunswick Street looking for gifts, excitement and the meaning of life. Didn't find anything.

Our tree does look wonderful though. All the decorations we have bought on our overseas visits are out of their wrappings for their annual airing. This year there are two new ones: the kiwi Petite Soeur bought and the Cheshire cat which has a grin that's much more than a smile. It is a classic, textbook example of a lear.

The main problem with Christmas is the monotonous regularity with which it comes around. It should be tied to some irregular astronomical event. Every few years the astronomers would announce,"Hey! There's going to be a Christmas!" THEN, I'd get excited. Maybe. Briefly.

Yesterday afternoon we had a spectacular hail storm here at Lilydale. It was weather like we used to have in the 50s but which I thought had gone away for ever. In the library rain pored in through various apertures in the ceiling and the noise was deafening. Now all our cars have dints in them and my mirrors were flattened against the side of the car. The question is: can I be bothered dealing with the insurance company to have it fixed? Boring.

We had a wonderful night at Mecca, out on the balcony watching the sun setting on the Yarra and celebrating Grumpy Girl's birthday. I feel a little seedy this morning however. Next time definitely only an entree and a shared dessert.
The waiter was very efficient and attentive but managed to offend me nevertheless. When I said I didn't need to see the dessert menu because I had already checked it out on the Internet, he made a patronising remark about how good it was that I was up with the technology. So I informed him (in the style of the heroine of "The Mummy") that I was a librarian and we had, as a profession, invented the Internet. That fixed him. And so for the benefit of the waiter at Mecca and any other doubters here is a quote from an article in Educause Review (Thanks to JP for sending it to me)

From the article, "Why IT Has Not Paid Off As We Hoped (Yet)"
(Educause Review, vol. 38, no. 6 (November/December 2003): 40-51.)

"The real heroes of the digital revolution in higher education are librarians; they are the people who have seen the farthest, done the most, accepted the hardest challenges, and demonstrated most clearly the benefits of digital information. In the process, they have turned their own field upside down and have revolutionized their own professional training. It is a testimony to their success that we take
their achievement for granted".

It's Grumpy Girl's birthday today and what a joy she has been to her nearest and dearest all these years. The Grump gives parenting a good name. Tonight we are going to Mecca where we went for Petite and Right Foot's birthdays too. It has spectacular views and wonderful food. Check out the menu at http://www.mecca.net.au/menu.htm

On Saturday we went to see Blithe Spirit - so corny, so predictable and so much fun.

Yesterday, I marked the remaining Marketing Communications exam papers then tried in vain to get Right Foot interested in the Davis Cup. The Aussie fans were decked out in gold and green but were waving red, white and blue flags or had them painted on their faces. Other countries wear colours that match their flags. I love this about Australia - patriotism will never topple over into Chauvinism while we can't make up our minds what our national colurs are.

Something surprising has just happened. For the first time ever I have been given a Kris Kringle present that I really like. Not merely do I like it but I was planning to buy one for myself. It is one of those spiral serving plates that will be a valuable contributor to my entertaining portfolio. Even though the presents were given out randomly S and I ended up exchanging plates. She was not the recipient I had it mind but seems happy. We had our staff Christmas lunch in a rusticky place in Healesville, warm sunny and nice.
Yesterday was our seminar at Hawthorn where I did my three presentations so now there is just one more big academic occasion this year and then it's time to party.
My weekend will be dominated by a pile of Marketing Communications exam papers to mark relieved by a visit to the Playhouse to see Blithe Spirit.

Yesterday was the annual Information Literacy Seminar with Grumpy Girl's graphic featuring prominently on all the promotional media. Apparently a couple of regular attendees declined to come this year because they thought the theme was too risque. So the venue was filled with just the saucier, racier type of librarian who all had good fun with the notion of librarians "embedded'' with the academics. The graphic was on the showbag given to delegates and on the way home on the tram I was accosted by a Customer Services Officer wanting to know where he could get one. Was it a shop? What did he have to buy? I was beginning to glow with maternal pride but then he said, "You see, I know someone called Gale Thomson." What? It was only then that I noticed the name of the seminar's sponsor, Thomson Gale was emblazoned accross the top of the bag. Maternal love is the blindest of all.
The seminar was, as usual, a great day - so social, such yummy food, so many old buddies, such comfort and style at VU's city campus.
At lunch time I walked up to the Charities Card Shop at the cathedral. I hadn't been there for three or four years and something had changed. They now have security checks before you can go in - to the crypt in St. Paul's Cathedral! Once inside however, it was the same lovely place. Lots of elderly ladies to fuss around you, anxious to help. This is the only place in Melbourne that comes close to the feel of a Country Women's Association function - except no pikelets. I was careful not to buy any cards that would support a charity run by the treacherous Protestants: this would have caused my mum to spin in her grave. I stuck to secular organisations like the Royal Flying Doctor Service, Amnesty International and the East Timor Association. I bought some from the Mercy Hospital for Mothers for Mum's sake: the IRA did not have their cards out. I bought two from the Alzheimer's Association which had pictures painted by dementia patients. They were both way better than I could do even now with most of my marbles still in place. Grumpy Girl did not inherit her talent from me.

I seem to have porked up a bit over winter and last year's summer clothes are uncomfortably tight. Dieting's a bore so I've been shopping for some fat clothes. I bought two very practical, style-free, go-with-everything skirts in the hope that my bod will gradually return to normal while I'm wearing them out. This may be a little optimistic over the party season which is already in full swing here. Actually, I'm getting into Christmas this year, having had a year off it while living in a Muslim country last year - a new zest for Christmas is not something I ever expected to experience.

Tim Winton's 'Cloudstreet' has been voted Most Popular Australian Book in a poll run by the ABC while my pick, 'The harp in the south' came in 14th, behind even Bryce Courtney. Good God.

Wednesday is the CRIG seminar where Grumpy Girl's caricature of me gets another airing. This time I am 'in bed with the academics'. Thursday we are having our own Information Literacy forum and I am giving three short presentations which may or may not fascinate and amaze all who hear them . Friday is the first of many a Christmas knees-up, the exams will be over and half our staff are banished to live off their husbands for two months. Such is the fate of academic librarians.