If anyone would like to see our photos from the current fires, please go to http://www.flickr.com/photos/67884727@N00/

The fires came right up to our backyard last night and nearly claimed my son's cubby. Our backyard has been featured on television all day (though thankfully not us!)

Before I had a baby I was very fit. One of the changes I had to make during pregnancy was to reduce my exercise. Now the very phrase ‘reduce exercise’ is laughable to me. You mean there really are people who actually want to do more exercise than they’re doing and actually have the time to do it? But do not despair of me. I am not a totally lost cause. I have started swimming again!Taking a job near one of the best pools in the city presented me with an opportunity I could refuse no longer. That thought that had been nagging me at the back of my mind ever since I had my baby, came to the fore: “You really should get back into swimming!”

Before getting pregnant, swimming was a big part of my life. When I turned 30 I decided I had to get active so I took up the sport of my schooldays. I had been good at it once, I thought, so at least I wouldn’t drown!

But never to do anything by halves, I soon became obsessed with swimming. Within two years I was competing with Masters at a national level and within three years, internationally. I swam at least three times during the week and every other weekend involved a carnival or an ocean swim. At one stage I was swimming from 5am in the middle of winter at an outdoor pool. (Sick!)

After being out of the pool I found it hard to get back in because I knew I was so much slower. For a competitive person like me, that provides a convenient cop-out: if you can’t be the best, why bother?

The baby I mentioned earlier is now aged three years and four months. And that’s about how long it’s taken me to don the goggles again. I have now accepted that going swimming at all is better than not going at all. I do not have to be a world beater. I do not have to overtake the guy in front of me (unless he thinks he’s faster than me, then I’ll show him..)

I am enjoying the refreshment of swimming on warm summer days and also that virtuous feeling a few kilometres of exercise gives you. (If you eat a Tim Tam, for example, you can tell yourself you deserve it.)

But old habits do die hard. A flyer came through the post the other day for an ocean swim and I haven’t thrown it away. When people ask me how far I’ve just swum I invariably exaggerate . And I like to swim in the ‘Fast Lane. No Breastroke!’ at least occasionally. Under ‘interests’ on surveys and things I like to write ’swimming’. It makes me sound svelter.

And there’s another thing. I have plans for my son to be the next Ian Thorpe, so I have to show him a good example.

Swimming is great exercise for Mums as putting one’s head in water inevitably gives you some ‘me’ time. It’s hard to chastise a toddler, while doing 50m butterfly, for example. Not quite the same with, say tennis, with the kids running all over the court.

So look out for me at North Sydney Pool, following the black line up and down, in the shadow of the Harbour Bridge. I’ll be the serious one with the Masters logo on my cap. Just don’t try and overtake me …

Far out, I can hardly believe it’s 2007. Even by saying ‘far out’ I show that I was born sometime way back in the last century.

I’ve been thinking about some New Year’s resolutions because that’s what you’re supposed to do, isn’t it? See the new year as turning over a new leaf. A new opportunity for growth and development.

Well here are my resolutions, so far:

• Drink less alcohol: whoops, managed to stuff that one up at the New Year’s party, even before the clock struck 12. Blame those free Singapore Slings.
• Exercise more: eating in itself, uses calories doesn’t it? I have been swimming once, and I have walked a lot .. between wherever I was sitting and the fridge!
• Be a better wife: I think I have made husband two meals this year, which is about equivalent for whole of 2006 - so going well on this one!
• Get career back on track: will be working fulltime from mid-Feb. Plans to conquer publishing world follow soon after.
• Undertake more education-related activities with son: Hell Spiderman came from a literary background, didn’t he? (ie. comic). If so, acing this one. Have spent a lot of time acting various sequences from Spiderman versus whatever villain from Rogues Gallery, as featured on Spiderman DVD ’special features’ option ie. crap they put on there so they can charge a lot more for DVDs than they ever did videos!
• Eat less carbohydrates: ah yes, the carb…the first refuge for the unimaginative vegetarian, as I am. No more resorting to a sambo or instant pasta when I’ve got the munchies after 9pm. Going reasonably well on this one despite recent ‘potato attack’ in the wee hours.
• Drink more Diet Coke: now, I tell ya, I swore off carbonated drinks for years - something to do with ‘death by Nutrasweet’ or windy babies. But now, when it’s flavoured with vanilla and/or lime (not easy to get, mind you) it artificially fills the tummy for the whole afternoon. In the past I have sympathised with anti-globalisation pushes but now, for my own self-serving, weight-control reasons, have decided that’s piffle. Doing well on this one - am consuming an 800ml bottle about four times a week!
• Set attainable goals that actually benefit the greater good: only Jan 4. Failed already!

Happy New Year!

I’ve always loved Christmas and this year was no exception. My mother has a lavish routine of wonderful set rituals that are followed faithfully. They include heaping mountains of gifts on her children and a filling us with a fabulous Christmas meal eaten at a beautifully decorated table. The only problem is I’m starting to feel a bit slack, as my only real contribution to the whole deal is financial. And I wonder, what rituals will I have pass on?

Apart from only two Christmases when I’ve been away - both times in London - I’ve spent every Christmas in the family home where I grew up. We all turn up on Christmas Eve, watch the televised Christmas carols from the Myer Music Bowl in Melbourne, and drink lots of wine.

In the past few years we’ve added a trip to local Christmas lights spectacular (a street of people in the neighbouring suburb who clearly derive their self-worth from flashing as many lights in as many different shapes in as many different places as possible - but lovely to look at for us voyeurs, nonetheless).

On Christmas morning we exchange enough presents to fill the recycling bin with paper, and then some. Then we have a huge fry up and coffee, scatter for a several hours of stomach recovery, and reassemble in the latter part of the day for a meal of turkey, ham and all the extras (being a vegetarian, Mum also makes me my own special dish). There is wine, champagne, desserts and the obligatory bon-bons.

Christmas night is decidely lacking in energy. This year we all lounged about watching Superman Returns, one by one popping off to bed during the drawn-out show as our stamina deserted us.

In the past three years my son has been added to the mix but it’s really only been this year that he’s ‘got’ the whole present thing. He’s still playing with his Fantastic Four and Spiderman action figures that Santa bought, most of every day.

But the thing is - I can’t expect my Mum to do all thing forever, can I? The cleaning, the cooking, the buying - everything that makes our Christmas what it is.

But on the other hand, the thought if even attempting such an extravaganza sends me into a cold sweat. I mean I don’t even really know how to use my oven! Perhaps the whole tradition will leap frog me and pass straight over to my younger sister. There’s nothing wrong with my son forever associating Christmas with his Nanna or Aunty’s house, is there?

It seems that my mother’s wonderful Christmas rituals are going to have as much chance of being passed onto me as her talents of piano playing, sewing, and gardening.

But so long as I keep the toys coming (or so long as Santa does!), I’m sure my son won’t mind. I just asked him what his favourite part of Christmas was. He replied: “When Santa brought me the Green Goblin!”