Learning to write in the tropics

For some months now I have known that I am probably one of the youngest great-aunts in history. Jokingly I decided to check the Guinness book of world records but the position of youngest aunt doesn't seem to appear; I didn't spend too much time on it so maybe it does exist. And given that the nature of my family, with its overlapping generations, is found in many parts of the Catholic Church I am unlikely to be the only youngest aunt. It is even possible that being an aunt for the first time at the age of 11 is not that young an age. Today hopefully my family and I will meet (or at least e-meet since I am in another country) my new niece. As we all wait expectantly next to our phones both here and in Central America it is interesting for me to in a way to watch myself watching this beautiful part of life unfold.  As Catholics, we know that pregnancy and childbirth are a miracle and amazing, but I sometimes feel this remains an abstraction for most people until you realise what...

 In the time since my last post, back at some point in the summer when the days felt so wonderfully long and I was possibly still on the other side of the canal, a lot has happened.  I've known since May that I would be starting a new job alongside my ongoing research work. This was meant to be fairly remote with only occasional travel to Oxford.  During the summer,  however, things changed and I found I was moving yet again. Soooo now my commute involves a rather steep hike and cycle up Hinksey Hill on the outskirts of Oxford. This is considerably steeper and longer than the rather modest Castle Hill in the more flat Cambridge. Once up there the views are amazing,  wonderful for a weekend hike. Up the hill, quite properly, is the Carmelite Centre for Applied Spirituality where I have started working. This is starting out as an interesting year as I try to balance a new job with my ongoing research projects, and somewhere in between trying to maintain a balanced...