On the fifth day of Christmas ...

... I attended a High Church Anglican funeral service at St John the Evangelist, Soldiers Hill, Ballarat. The requiem Eucharist was to celebrate the life of Rosalie Bonighton, a composer of liturgical organ and choral music of great renown in the region and beyond.

In the words of David Oulton's homily:

"Her music was like the symphony of her life, complex, rich, exacting, encompassing a wide range of style and sparkle. It was beautiful, enchanting, heady, clever."

The music at the funeral service (which included Bonighton's Melbourne Mass) was sung by Vox and the Ballarat Grammar Chamber Choir and was just beautiful. The Eucharist was almost identical to a Catholic Mass but with enough extra prayers and readings thrown in to extend it by a good country mile.

After the service the congregation gathered silently in the church grounds listening to the tolling of the newly installed automatic bell.

Later we enjoyed a few moments of quiet contemplation on the shores of Lake Wendouree before driving back to Melbourne to continue the next days of Christmas.

On the fourth day of Christmas ...

... I hit the highway (specifically: CityLink, the Westgate Freeway, the Western Ring Road and the Western Highway) and after a quite relaxing drive through the green and pleasant land that is Victoria this year, arrived in the sunny and majestic city of Ballarat.

Ballarat in my childhood was the city that broke up the journey between Geelong and Ararat and, later, Melbourne and Ararat. We may have stopped for petrol or a loaf of bread, but never to stroll around the streets and admire the magnificent Victorian architecture or to marvel at the picturesque railway crossing with its signal box (now rather decrepit) and impressive signal gantry.

We certainly never stopped for a Ballarat Bitter at Craig's Royal Hotel, even in the cricket season. And we could never have contemplated sitting on a couch in the bar at that hotel, writing a blog post on an iPad while watching Mr Cricket steer Australia through to stumps.

On the third day of Christmas ....

... I went to the cricket: day two of the supposedly traditional Boxing Day test. This year's ABC cricket magazine (one of the many periodicals which is the bane of the serial cataloguer's life, having changed its title from the perfectly respectable ABC cricket book and still popularly known as such) points out that the Melbourne Boxing Day test has been an annual event only since 1990.

During the tea break I dropped into the MCC Library as a change from visiting the Hugh Trumble courtyard bar. The library has a superb collection of sporting books, free fact sheets, the Yorker magazine and stunning views across Jolimont towards the city. It even has a special display of ABC cricket books.

Amidst all the noise and confusion of the Boxing Day test crowd, the MCC Library provides a place for reflection, contemplation and serenity - before the inevitable return to the Hugh Trumble.

On the second day of Christmas ...

... I cooked zucchini slice. Inspired by my aunty's legendary zucchini slice which is an all time favourite at the traditional Christmas night get-together, and armed with one of the 'smaller' zucchini grown by my cousin (not the same one who gave me the brick), tonight I attempted to recreate the famous dish.

For something so simple there are so many recipes, but one of the best is found in the charming, practical and sustainable book Homemade: the Handmade Help recipe book, which consists of recipes donated by home cooks and well known cooks such as Greg Malouf. This book is the brainchild of my former colleague Beverley Laing and others who gathered the recipes and distributed the book as a gift to the Victorian communities affected by the bushfires of 2009. Funds raised from sales of the book are donated to the Salvation Army.

I hope the contributor of the zucchini slice recipe in this book does not object to my leaving out the bacon. Even my aunty never cooks zucchini slice with bacon anymore. Instead she serves a small dish of finely diced bacon sprinkles alongside for those who must, and vegetarians and non-vegetarians alike are happy.

On the first day of Christmas ...

... my cousin gave to me: an early birthday present. Being in a reckless kind of mood I decided to open it straight away rather than wait three days.

The bag felt very heavy - rather as though it contained a brick. On opening the bag I discovered that my cousin had indeed given me a brick for a birthday present. But not just any brick: it was an Alice's Adventures in Wonderland brick from Daryl Fitzgerald's Light Reading collection.

The weathered Glen Iris brick from 1956, complete with Olympic rings, is imprinted on its 'spine' with the title, author and artist's mark.

Absolutely the perfect gift for a librarian who lives quite near Glen Iris and loves her sport.

Day 7: The newsagent

On the way home from the supermarket, post office, fruit shop and bakery, I dropped into my local newsagency, which I have not needed to visit much since I got the iPad. The owners still remember me and greet me by name even though it is years since I had the paper delivered. They even remember where I live: "Are you really going to walk down there with all that shopping?"

They have decided to close on Sundays soon as they have so few customers. Feeling really guilty about not buying the paper any more, I bought some cards that I didn't really need and slunk out of the shop.

Day 6: Friday

Oh happy Friday. The whole office seems lighter and more frivolous on Friday. A burden has been lifted. Another sunny summery day and the city is sparkling.

For the second time this week I escaped to the top end of town, this time for a late lunch at the Cricketers. Still grieving for the unfortunate withdrawal of Daniel Vettori from the New Zealand team, I didn't pay much attention to the cricket on the TV, but enjoyed my Little Creatures with chips and aioli. In the immortal words of Toby Keith 'I love this bar'. The staff here are really lovely and I was delighted to see the same barman who was so friendly to us on our previous visit last week.

Back on home territory the cicadas are going crazy, there are birds everywhere and once darkness falls the moths and tiny beetles begin their invasion. The giant lemon scented gum is starting to shed its bark and great strips of it lie across the footpath and driveway. Sumer is *definitely* icumin in.