Leading

People look to me for leadership. Tonight, that hits me with a mixture of surprise and heaviness. People look to me.

Duh, you say. You have taken on leadership roles. People expect you to act the part.

I didn't apply for any of the major leadership roles I'm currently holding. I was tapped on the shoulder, and agreed the role was important, and thought I had the skill set to do a good job. These roles are just temporary, not really what I plan to be when I grow up. But I have tried all my life to act with integrity, and to be inclusive. Somehow this has been enough for the shoulder tappers. The leader identifiers. The people who have been doing an important job, but don't want to keep doing it when they grow up, and have gone looking for others to take over. Like me.

Leadership is mostly a good thing. I get to be part of important decisions, and I'm at the table when we discuss strategy and new directions.

But unfortunately, over the last month one leadership role has put me in a very difficult situation, requiring me to make a decision with no possible positive outcomes. I've had to choose the best of terrible things. And I've had to convince others that the choice I made is the best of the terrible choices in front of us, even if it isn't the easiest.

We aren't out of it yet. But tonight a decision has been made. Looking back, two things stand out, keeping me awake late into the night.

One, my colleagues really respect me. The amount of respect is surprising, and feels ... heavy. They value my opinion. One colleague in particular was very much set on choosing the easier decision, but he listened and was willing to trust my judgement, and changed his vote after hearing my arguments.

Two, a prayer. Dear God, please let me have advocated for the better of the bad decisions available. Now that I have talked even the belligerent colleague into my decision, please let it be the actual better decision.

I'm going to see this through, but I really, really don't want this job when I grow up. I'm on the lookout for shoulders to tap.

This year's Southern Hemisphere Christmas

 The weather turned warm.

We enjoyed Christmas dinner in the park.

The Cheetos were shipped from the US. The rest is local summer fare.

Merry Christmas, family.

Merry Christmas, seagulls.

The beach photo is from Boxing day, at Sandringham. I went swimming, while Tim and Jonathan sat in the sand. The water was green, but it was a pleasant day for swimming. We headed home before it got too hot. 

 

A collection of December photos

1.Family selfie in the city centre, in front of the city Christmas tree (the sturdy kind that doesn't mind ... the sun and the rain).

2. Inside the chocolate shop. One of my favourite stores.

 

3. Inside the old post office, now a department store. The architectural details warm my heart.

4. The view across the street as we ate lunch outside at a restaurant. It's lovely to have the kind of weather that allows outdoor lunches.

5. View of South Bank, across the Yarra. Daylight.

6. Same view. Night.

7. The early morning balloons are back.

And finally, my university has officially shut down, and does not open until early January. So the holidays have officially begun!

Christmases past

My mom started an email thread. What do we remember about Christmas growing up?

And I tell you, I apparently grew up in a completely different house than my siblings did. 

They remember going caroling all the time, with my dad playing the accordion. I think I remember maybe doing that once. The accordion came out for visits with relatives, though.

And at home, they remember piano music all the time. Ok, Tim says that's a yes. He phrases it something like "all the noise, noise, Noise, NOISE". 

But the piano lived in the basement until my teens, so again, I don't think we're talking about my childhood here. We're talking about my youngest siblings' childhood, which happened after I had grown up and moved out of the house. 

The youngest writes, for instance, that it was a nice tradition how we opened presents one at a time, and got to appreciate what each person received. 

Um. That never happened. Santa couldn't even be bothered to wrap presents when I was a child. On Christmas morning, Dad turned the lights on in the living room, and stood poised at the door with the camera, to capture all the magic as we ran inside and found the new toys stacked by our stockings on the couch. 

To change the topic a bit, it has been weird figuring out what Christmas looks like on the other side of the earth. This is, I think, our seventh Christmas season down under. A problem with northern hemisphere Christmas is that it is inextricably entwined with winter, which makes sense. Along with all the religion, it is also at its heart a celebration of the winter solstice. So which parts stay for the summer solstice? The light-in-the-darkness, warmth-in-the-cold, cozy firelight Christmas doesn't work.

I hate to admit it, but this may have been the first of our seven Christmas seasons in Australia that we fully decorated our Christmas tree. And only because Jonathan took charge.

But there is nothing wrong with sitting on the couch by the Christmas tree in shorts and a T-shirt. Summer is a nice time for Christmases too.

Thanks

Only the calendar and Facebook remind me that Thanksgiving has passed in the US. Late November is just another lovely week deep in spring here in Melbourne. The trees are fully green again. The native Australian tree outside my bedroom window is in full flower -- feathery golden orange blossoms layered over green leaves all the way to the sky. (I can check the tree map of Melbourne to find that the colonists named it "silky oak" (grevillea robusta). Why?)

It rains in spring. It has been a rainy spring in Melbourne. I've been awakened by the sound of heavy rain pounding on the roof and sidewalks and roads. It is a soothing sound, late at night, to be warm and dry and to hear the rain. It is not yet too warm to snuggle deeper under the blankets, and dream of Novembers past in the far north, when the sound of the snowplow would awaken me early in the morning. 

We ask every year we're outside the US. Should we cook a Thanksgiving meal? Probably. What to cook? The son is still vegan. There are vegan versions of nearly everything on a traditional Thanksgiving plate, except we refuse to touch tofurkey. But when to cook it? Thursday, Friday are work days. This year, Saturday was a state election. Jonathan got a job staffing a neighbourhood voting centre from 7am until 11pm. 

Sunday? 

Thinking about cooking a last minute meal makes me a little melancholy. Thanksgiving is about planning and preparations and family. Special place mats and turkeys made of coloured paper and glue. Taking that horse and sleigh over the river to Grandmother's house. Isn't it? I propose that almost zero Americans alive today have ever really taken a sleigh ride in the US through the woods to Grandmother's Thanksgiving table. It isn't cold enough for that. There are very few places high in the mountains where there might be sufficient snow in November, but surely there aren't enough horses or sleighs or Grandmothers living in the woods. But we all have an idea of what an ideal Thanksgiving should be. And I guess I miss that. 

I guess it's time to go cook. 

Love in the time of covid

October wasn't a great month. We had no reason to believe it wouldn't be awesome heading in. It just turned out less awesome than it could have. 

Jonathan started October on a camp for his earth science class. That wasn't so bad.

Tim went to the US. In March 2020 he had scheduled a visit to a good friend, and that was cancelled at the last minute. In October 2022, they were finally able to reschedule. So that looked promising. And I think it was. It sounds like the trip was great in the end, involving several cities and many people. 

For me and for Jonathan, it was our last month of classes before exams and then summer holidays. So Tim was away, but things were looking ok for me and for Jonathan. In the penultimate tutorial of his finance class, a kid at Jonathan's table was coughing without a mask. Jonathan started feeling sick over the weekend, and grumbled about people coughing. He went to class on Monday, the last week of the semester, feeling grumpy and unhappy, with his own tickle of a cough developing in the back of his throat. He and I commiserated all Monday evening around the dining room table. Tuesday morning he had a break from classes, so I woke him up to tell him goodbye as I left for my day. His bedroom was really stuffy, so I went in and opened the window for him. He said he didn't feel great. Off I went to work.

A few hours later, while in the middle of a meeting planning a university event I was hosting the next day, I got a text from Jonathan. He had just tested positive for covid.

Oh man oh man oh man oh man.

I taught my last class anyway. Came home and made dinner later that evening, something warm and soupy, I think, and invited Jonathan to come eat with me. He appeared at his bedroom door wearing a mask. "Do you really want to eat with me? There is still a chance you won't get it."

So we ate dinner in separate rooms. Tim in the US. Me and Jonathan talking in a google meet. But there had been Monday night dinner, Tuesday morning in the stuffy covid bedroom. I had been Exposed. I felt like a ticking time bomb. Tick. Tick. Tick.

I tested negative in the morning Wednesday. Went to work. Held my university event. Wore a mask. Moved all my one-on-ones to zoom. Same for Thursday. In my last zoom meeting of the day Thursday, my PhD student on the other end of the screen noted that I seemed to be coughing a lot. Tick-tick-tick-tick.

That night I woke up coughing. Friday my covid test was not convincingly negative -- there was no second colored line, but if you looked really closely you could see a bit of a second indentation. I cancelled everything and went to bed. Spent the day with headache, developing fever, tired and miserable.

Saturday my covid test was convincingly positive. Tim was scheduled to come home on Tuesday. I wrote and told him to book a hotel in Melbourne from Tuesday to Friday. He didn't want this. He should stay away. So he used some frequent flyer points, and booked a hotel in the city in Melbourne. I kept getting worse. Fever, fever pains, coughing, sinus pain, tight chest. Exhausted. I could still smell and taste things, so that was something.

Sunday morning Jonathan tested negative. His covid was over! "Bye Mom, I'm off to a friend's house."

Grumble grumble kids who infect their parents grumble and then don't stay home taking care of them. Poor little bunny.

Tim texted early Tuesday morning that he had landed in Melbourne. Made his way to the hotel to isolate from us. .... .... Immediately tested positive for covid. (What an idiot!)

So Tim slept at the hotel long enough for me to change all the covid sheets at home. He just came home to be sick for the next few days. And we were pretty sick. Sick sick sick sick. I did not test negative five days out like Jonathan. I did not test negative until two weeks out. And then I went back to work and had to come home early after my massive coughing fit threatened to interrupt a university leadership meeting.

Grumble grumble stupid short straw immune system that didn't get the asymptomatic case grumble.

And even Tim was feeling better before me. There is no justice in the world.

Anyway, October. You can take it.

Postscript: Jonathan just read through my draft and has words to say.

What do you mean I didn't take care of you while you were sick?!! It was a week after you tested positive that I went to my friend's house! And the first few days that I was the sickest, you just went to work! You were away the whole day ignoring me. No sympathy!

Watching the sparkler burn

I've been assigned too much at work. Assigned too much, taken on too much, neglected to say no too often. It's the same thing for workload. Now that I have an associate dean hat, I am asked at the University level to do things to benefit the University. I am asked at the Faculty of Science level to benefit the Faculty of Science. And I am still a researcher asked to do researcher things. And I wear a president-elect hat in my society that asks for additional things in my country. And much smaller down, I teach a class (that I love). And I have research students (that I worry over). And and and and and. 

And it has come to a head. And it is unsustainable. And I am a mix of frustrated, and angry, and tired, and despondent. But mostly angry. Like a sparkler. You know those sparks are going to burn you if you get too close. And you know you can't touch the stick even after all the flash and lights are gone. 

Stand back! I am BURNING OUT!

Last week, I was asked to represent the provost on a 2-hour interview panel in Malaysia. But I couldn't, because I was meeting the dean and then consulting with my students. And I couldn't attend the two meetings around geopolitical security because my PhD student was graduating, and then I was meeting nine potential candidates for promotion to discuss their cases. And I had to ask for an extension on evaluating the 36 small grant proposals I had been assigned because I had student meetings and research meetings and it was my turn to present. (I pulled a talk from 2016 out of a drawer -- I called it a "greatest hits" talk -- and it actually went really well.) My final exam was due. The national research funding agency wanted public interest statements rewritten by 15 applicants, to be reviewed by my team. I had to approve five budgets for seed funding.

I finished the grant reviews on Saturday night. It only took about 15 minutes per proposal. That added up to eight hours. On Saturdays and weekends. There were 90 unread messages in my inbox by the time I had finished. On Sunday night I got that down to 20.

These people don't seem to understand what they are asking us to do. They don't talk to each other. A pro-VC for infrastructure scheduled a two-day meeting on top of a teaching week, way out in the hills so I have to rent a car -- no one willing to carpool. I scrambled to find a substitute for my class so that my Faculty doesn't miss out. But then on the same day, a pro-VC for education scheduled a strategy meeting around energy. And the provost asked me to join a hiring panel. And I sent my apologies to the dean's executive group that I'd be missing that meeting. And the lab opening ceremony. And the invited speaker for my research group. And and and and. 

This is crazy crazy crazy impossible. 

What kind of crazy is running this ship? 

I want out. I want off. 

Here we go into the hills to talk about infrastructure. Stand back. This sparkler is ON FIRE!

 

The Queen

The Queen of England has died. Although Australia has been its own country since 1900, it is a member of the Commonwealth. Meaning the Queen of England is the executive head of state. Australia elects its own members of parliament, but they are the legislative branch of government. The executive is directly appointed by the crown of England. It's complicated.

So a head of state has died, albeit a distant one. 

The Prime Minister declared a National Day of Mourning on a Thursday. A one-off national holiday.

Coincidentally, that day coincided with the date I was scheduled to give a presentation in a meeting for University research leadership. And the date that the Vice Chancellor was scheduled to visit our Faculty. 

So big day! All cancelled. 

And coincidentally, that day also coincided with my birthday.

Happy birthday to me!

I made great plans to take the day off. We ordered a Nintendo Switch! Shipped Monday, to arrive Tuesday, well in time for Thursday!

It didn't come. 

Delayed. Late. Now, the following Saturday, possibly lost. 

We are cancelling the order, and maybe we'll just pick it up at a local shop -- which we probably should have done in the first place. But now without a day off.

And what about the Queen?

I did not grow up in a country where she was my head of state. To others, she was the face of their country for 70 years. I understand that her death, to them, might feel like the end of an era. For me, in the 1990s, the death of the friendly little man who was head of my church through my childhood and teenage years felt a bit like that. In the 2000s, the death of my grandparents felt like that. They were old, it wasn't a shock that they would go. But it meant that certain good times would never return.

And to others in this country, the queen was the face of apocalypse. She represented the invaders who had stolen land, forcibly taken children, and made many great nations live in slavery. Continued slavery. Continued loss of land and children, throughout her reign. And she did nothing. There was little sadness among aboriginal Australians over the death of a woman representing colonialism. And don't say that colonialism only happened in a previous century, before our time. Just last week the news told of the courts overturning a decision to allow a private, white-owned mining company to desecrate the lands of the traditional owners. Land is still being stolen. Children are still being taken.

It is a complicated, messy world that we live in. And the leaders I used to look to, with confidence they could fix things, cannot seem to fix things. Like the friendly little man who was the head of my church.

Sometimes, you crave a day away from all of it. Maybe immersed in a new video game. Maybe on your birthday. 

What a mess. 

Going places, doing things!

We have been going places and doing things. It's kind of novel, after so much pandemic and so many lockdowns. We can just do things these days because we do things. 

I went to Creswick for a couple of days. Creswick is a small town in regional Victoria. There was rain, and a hike. And we were told that "Wednesdays we wear pink." So I wore pink. 

Too bad my outer coats were purple. They detracted from the otherwise overall pink-ness. 

Caption on this photo below: Selfies are hard.

Rain.

Wet.

But still nice, even if wet.

Then two days later, I was on the other side of Victoria, on the Mornington Penninsula for a work event. They put my in a room with a nice view.

But I didn't actually get to appreciate the view or the room much, because of the work event thing that took up all the daylight hours.

Back home, while riding public transit on the weekend, my map showed that I was passing a Melbourne Tram Museum. That sounded interesting. I looked it up. The museum is open only 24 days per year, but the next day happened to be one of them! 

Text to Tim and Jonathan: We are going to the Melbourne Tram Museum tomorrow. 

And we went. 

You could walk in and around the old trams, dating back to the 1880s. 

We got in on a free tour, too. What a deal!

And finally, while walking through the Botanic Gardens in the middle of the day, I saw various signs and setup for a light show they were running. So again a text to Tim and Jonathan: 

We're going to the Botanic Gardens light show event thingy. 

And we went. 

 Going places again. Doing things. It's kind of nice. Novel. 

Award ceremony

 Jonathan did really well in his high school exams overall. He was invited to an awards ceremony at the Melbourne Convention Centre to receive a special achievement award. He was also invited last year, to receive a different award, but last year the ceremony was cancelled due to Covid lockdowns. So it was really really nice to be able to go this year. 

... Except that the ceremony lasted three hours, and we had to get there early, and my hands kind of hurt from applauding.

But it wasn't about me. It was about Jonathan, who is great, and a great way to say goodbye to high school (six months ago) and celebrate his success. 

After the ceremony, while we were standing in line for a photo-op, I was staring around the room and started wondering, why can't I read that sign against the wall? And then I shifted a bit and looked at it again, and realised that it wasn't the sign -- it was my brain. There was a sharp zigzag splitting up the back  of my eyeball. 

Migraine aura. 

I have only had three of these before in my life -- this was the fourth. The last time I had one, within a half hour I was flat in bed with a massive headache, that turned into a night vomiting on the bathroom floor.

I grabbed Jonathan and told him I had to leave. "You stay here with Tim. Get the photos. I have a migraine aura, and need to go home."

Of course, Jonathan was very concerned. And Tim was very concerned. But I wasn't yet in pain. I had time to get home and prepare. So I did. 

Out the door, on the tram, back home. I took the last of my migraine-suppressor prescription pills, cancelled my evening meeting with Europe, and went to bed, where I could focus on breathing and not vomiting. 

Tim and Jonathan stayed in the photo-op line, and took some really nice photos. 

Congratulations, Jonathan. 

And perhaps in passing, note that even though the event was not about me, and had nothing to do with me, and was extra special for Jonathan, somehow the post ended up being about me anyway. 

Stupid migraine. 

Finishing the Hawaii photos

We've now been home from the Hawaii vacation for three weeks, and it is time to post the rest of the photos and move on to other adventures! So here are some adventure photos. 

We left the Pink Palace right after the surfing lessons, and headed toward Fun and Adventure Land. As we took the shuttle, unfortunately that salt water in my sinuses became a headache, and I just needed to rest my head. But alas, we couldn't check in at Fun and Adventure Land yet, and unlike the Pink Palace before check in, there were a fierce group of Tiger Mamas guarding all the empty pool chairs. All of them. So we gave the hotel people our suitcases, but took our backpacks with passports down to the beach and huddled under the shade of a palm tree while I tried not to be grumpy. And failed. 

But Fun and Adventure Land was lots of fun. There were pools, water slides, and a lazy river. From this photo you can see the lazy river.

And Grandma and Grandpa took us all to a fabulous fancy Fun and Adventure Land dinner. 

 

I didn't take many other Fun and Adventure Land photos. The headache was part of it. I skipped the breakfast that led to the photo below.

But also I was having fun. Or waiting in long lines to have fun. There were some of those. And trying to stay out of the way of the fierce Tiger Mamas. 

Here is a photo of Jonathan and Tim at dinner. Finding dinner for a vegan teenager was extremely difficult during the entire vacation. Many restaurants had zero options. Some only had dessert options. Dessert or fruit alone is not going to feed the teenager. At this place, they had a plant-based burger and everything, but when we double checked that it was vegan, they had to run into the kitchen and substitute out the bun, because it was slathered in cow butter. Boo. But in the end, tasty.

We flew to Maui. This beautiful green garden happens to be inside security at the Honolulu airport. Check in, go through security. Sit at your gate, or wander out to the garden for some serenity. I am a big big fan of airports with serene tropical gardens inside security.

We all bought Hawaiian clothes.

We took them out to a fancy fish -- and, er, vegan -- dinner in Maui. Thanks Emily!

Here is a picture of Tim and Jonathan checking out the rocks in their Hawaiian shirts. You can see that they just blend into the scenery.

We were in a condo by the ocean in Maui, with a nice pool.

And nice sunsets. That was a feature of the condo: pink sunsets and palm trees.

We took a boat trip out to an old volcanic crater to do some snorkeling. This is what we looked like on the boat.

And this. Although only the three middle people are from our party.

And this is what we looked like snorkeling. You understand why we didn't take many pictures of the snorkeling. We were in the water.

Group photo.

Unfortunately I continued to be plagued by headaches, and the skin on my fingers broke out into a rash and started peeling. I wondered if it could be the extra sugar I was consuming? I decided to try to cut the pure sugar items out of my diet. So here I am eating a Hawaiian shave ice -- with just the ice. Everyone laughed at me, but it was good.

What else? More beaches. 

Long walks.

Fruity drinks. Except I was trying not to partake due to the headaches and peeling skin thing.

And then finally, goodbye, Hawaii.

After a long, long flight, we were back in Melbourne.

Where it was winter. And there was frost. This photo shows real life: frosty winter.

Welcome back, real life.