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Cnr of Park Rd and MacMahon St, Hurstville Sundays at 9:30 am and 6:30 pm

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THWACK!

You gotta love onomatopoeias. Like ‘Thwack!’ What did you just hear? The sound of a golf ball being driven down the fairway, courtesy of some dynamic one wood? The sound of a dusty cushion being cleaned, courtesy of a large wooden stick being wielded by some strong-armed housecleaner? Thwack! Not crack. That’s more the sound…

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Choosing captains

It always seemed a big deal at Primary School – the selection of the School Captain. In my day, it was the teachers who determined the result; but today, the candidates give their best pitch and the students give their bought vote. Now looking back, and in comparison with what is called ‘the big scheme…

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Songbird

This Sunday we’re singing Edith Cherry’s hymn, “I have heard Thy voice, Lord Jesus”. And I can’t wait. It’s a song of deep consecration, though this verse unfortunately will be omitted from the final cut: All for Jesus, Master keep it, Chiming on within my heart; Chiming when the way is gladsome, Chiming when the…

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Jailbreaks

My wife was reading aloud a sentence from the web on the history of the Berrima Gaol. “The Berrima Correctional Centre is an Australian prison, located at Berrima, New South Wales. The Centre was operational between 1839 and 2011 with a number of breaks in between”. It sounded to my ears like the prison had…

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A Bible bonsai

Whenever I get the chance to visit a plant nursery, I inevitably gravitate toward the shelf that holds the bonsais. I’m not sure what it is about these little miniature trees that makes them so fascinating. Is it their proportionate likeness to their full-size cousins? Or the sense that they carry the weight of the…

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The Sound of Shh

Apparently, according to my infallible son, the reason why parents say “shh” when they are trying to console a crying child, is because ‘shh’ is the first sound that children ever hear in the womb. Before they hear the sound of their parent’s voice, they hear the sound of their mother’s blood swooshing rhythmically through…

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Easter wrappings

Churchill once described Stalin as, “A riddle wrapped in a mystery inside an enigma”. That may be true, and an apt description of the man from Georgia, but what a painful bundle. Intriguing and insensitive. Charming and cruel. Virtuous and vicious. The ways of Stalin were the weave of a very complex web, and few…

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Hosa!nna

I hate remembering passwords. I wish I had just one that I could use all the time and in every digital space. Once upon a time I did, but then came the rule: ‘It must be at least so many letters long and contain so many numbers, etc’, which threw my online security into confusion….

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Soundness in slime

I noticed a track on the pavers this morning, left during the night, by a snail who either (a) had drunk too much coffee, or (b) was on his mobile phone – you know the meanderings made by people while talking, or (c) was completely lost in the dark. Unfortunately, my linguistic ability in escargotti…

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Wordle

My wife and children wake up each morning to Wordle, such that it has now become part of their daily ritual. So far I’m resisting the TREND, WASTE, and SNARE. I must admit though – they’re not bad at it, with an average success rate of four attempts; though threes are not uncommon, and twos…

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