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Early morning thoughts

I'm back from Launceston and enjoying life in the south. For those of you who know nothing about Tasmanian geography, here is a map. I work in Launceston three days a week. I enjoy my work, but almost everything else that is important to me seems to center in Hobart. My parent's home is twenty minutes south of Hobart, and Hobart is a two and half hour bus ride from Launceston. I am now home for two weeks. I'm excited that I've now completed two terms of work, and have two terms ahead. Perhaps I'll actually get through the year :). I'm also very excited about enjoying my friends, church, hobbies, and the landscapes here in the south. I woke up at 4am with a tummy ache, and I feel so excited (and sore) that I can't get back to sleep. I have been excited for days! I have invited nine people over for lunch soon, which should be a lot of fun!

My friend Mike has 52 comments in response to his speculations on
What women want. This feat was almost enough to make me want to write my own version. Something like "10 things men want in a woman". However, I came to the amusing and disconcerting realisation that I really don't know what men want :). This is not overly worrying to me, since I figure it is best to just be myself and leave the rest to providence. This is not because I don't want to get married. Especially when I'm lonely in Launceston, I think that marriage sounds like a great idea! However, I figure that if a man is to spend the rest of his life with me he should know what I'm really like :). Thus, I'm not interested in finding out what men want and then trying to be "it". I want Mr. wants to spend the rest of his life with Sherrin (whoever and where ever he may be) to like me, and not some image I am trying to project. In the meantime, it is tremendously funny to be a single. The number of amusing conversations I've had in recent times is enourmous. Here are a couple of examples:

One day a few months ago, a child at school asked me whether or not I was married.

“No”, I replied.

“Do you want to get married” was the predictable next question.

“I hope to get married some day”, I said.

“But aren’t you too old”, another child said.

“No silly, she’s not too old, my grandma got married” yet another child pitched in.

You will be glad to hear that at this point I did not laugh. Neither did I cry. I did breath a sigh of thankfulness that I am not a super-sensitive single person! These little ones have no idea of how old people are. Everyone big is ancient. I asked them to guess my age a while ago, and they thought 40 or 50 sounded accurate. I have told them I am 24, but it does not seem to sink in. The other day a little one asked me if I was 44.

Another funny experience happened during babysitting. the 10-year-old boy asked me if I had a boyfriend and how old I was. Upon hearing “no” and “24”, he pointed out to his 8-year-old sister “See, Miss Ward is waiting for the right one.” Isn't it good that I can provide such useful object lessons?

Also this morning I checked back to this post to see if anyone else had commented on the wonderful poem. I discovered that John Dekker has bought me the book of poetry the poem comes from. How nice is that? Here is a bit of the poem to entice you to read it:

This faith, although I lack it, is my own,
Inherent to the marrow of the bone.
To this even the unbelieving mind
Submits its unbelief to be defined.

Check it out on John's blog.

Oh, and John had some interesting observations (or should I say confessions) in the comments sectioni of cknat's post on what men want. Cknat has a green blog exactly like mine.

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