Tuesday 30 December 2008

Operation 24XMASEVE

It’s fun having a daughter at home – even if she IS working her socks off to earn money to pay her way through uni. Here are the emails we exchanged on Christmas Eve…

From: Pollard Catharine
Sent: 24 December 2008 11:10
To: R & A Pollard
Subject: Today

Hi Mum,

If you want to come pick me up at 12.30 then that would be fab but if not then i can quite easily get the bus back!

Reply asap por favour!
Xxx

From: R & A Pollard
Sent: 24 December 2008 11:29
To: Pollard Catharine
Subject: Re: Today

Hi daughter

Yes can pick you up at 12.30. No problemo!

Can you walk down to M and S or North Beach car park and give me an exact ETA?

love

Mama


From: Pollard Catharine
Sent: 24 December 2008 11:47
To: R & A Pollard
Subject: Re: Today

Righto!

This is flight commander Perkins speaking to you. Should you choose to accept it, this is your mission:

In the dark, dangerous and turbulent waters of December 24th, a lone survivor of the Christmasomme battle is awaiting your arrival. You will leave HQ at 12.19hrs exactly, navigating the tricky and potentially murderous maze of Guernsaise roads.

Approaching the RV with considerable caution you will first perform a recce to establish the enemy presence. Once confirmed by contacting our helicopters with infrared cameras you will traverse the rocky terrain taking care to avoid the identified danger areas. Note: Dangerous head winds in the form of heavy Christmas shopping traffic might impede safe arrival. Recommend use of laser gun should you encounter any untoward pedestrians, cyclists, motorists, etc but only as a last resort for fear of revealing your precarious position.

Once at the RV, secure the target (lone survivor etc) and screech away. Abandon caution when leaving the premises, and drive away, all guns blazing, blowing a few things up just to make that last shot of billowing clouds of flame and dark black swirls of soot extra special.

RV: North Beach
ETA: 12.33

This message will self destruct in three seconds....


From: R & A Pollard
Sent: 24 December 2008 12:01
To: Pollard Catharine
Subject: Re: Today

I haven't read your instructions yet, but you need to GET A LIFE!!!! or work harder!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

From: Pollard Catharine
Sent: 24 December 2008 12:02
To: R & A Pollard
Subject: Re: Today

Hah haa! Actually, I've just thought RE the ETA - maybe I should email you when I’m done here and then you leave when you get my email as I’m not sure I’ll be finished at 12.30 so don’t want you to wait. Will email in a few minutes.


From: Pollard Catharine
Sent: 24 December 2008 12.06
To: R & A Pollard
Subject: WE HAVE LIFT OFF!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

RV and ETA as before...Operation 24XMASEVE has begun....may the best man win.

She did. She arrived first.


Tuesday 23 December 2008

Updating

This post is for David, my college friend. I thought I had kept him up to date with our movements, but evidently I hadn't. So here we are:

2000. Our family leaves Kenya for Britain, amid much wailing and gnashing of teeth. Our son dubbed it the Exodus - except that we didn't feel we were off to a Promised Land. It took over half a dozen years to begin to get over our feelings of bereavement.

2001 - 2003. After much culture shock and eventually adapting to life in England (Rugby, Warwickshire, for those knowledgeable of town and county), Jonny and Cat got good GCSEs, Angie got trained up - via a variety of supply, temporary and part-time teaching positions - in the vagaries of the National Curriculum. And Richard recovered from a nasty illness and got a job in... Guernsey, flying tiny Trislander planes inbetween the Channel Islands, England and France.

2004 - 2008. A levels, gap year jobs in the finance industry in Guernsey and then among the poor in Peru and Mozambique, and then uni for Jonny and Cat; Angie beavers away at the chalkface, enjoying teaching small boys.

So there we are. 9 years in a few paragraphs. We hope to stay here for a while, but who knows? Our life here is dependent on our jobs; in the current economic climate, we are grateful to have jobs we both love and be part of a vibrant island community.

There is no future in regretting what is past
nor in worrying about the future.
The present is there for our enjoyment.

Christmas past and present

Every year something reminds me of past Christmases, but it was only today that I realized how wonderfully varied they have been. Just as I've kept our annual Christmas newsletters - which I started almost before photocopying was invented - so I should try to keep an inventory of all the different ways I have spent Christmas Day.

Of course, until I grew up and left home, Christmas Day was always exactly the same. Church - the obligatory attendance at Mass - was got over with as early as we kids could be dragged out of bed. Then home for present opening: each person had an individual pile of presents which were torn open in a frantic frenzy. How we ever kept track of who gave us what, I don't know. Then came lunch, hopefully over just in time for the Queen's speech. (One memorable year, an elderly relative - who couldn't wait - demanded to be taken to the toilet right in the middle of Her Majesty's orations.) Then television, chocolates, hanging around and waiting for tea time with Christmas cake which we were too full to eat. And more television. And more.

My Christmases changed after I went to Africa.

My first Christmas in Kenya was spent with dear friends who lived an idyllic life on a smallholding outside Nairobi. Following the mother's German tradition, we celebrated on Christmas Eve. It was a revelation to find that presents were selected randomly from the tree, one at a time, then presented to the recipient while we watched and rejoiced. It took two days to open them all!

My second Christmas in Africa was spent in Cote d'Ivoire, travelling with my brother. I can't remember Christmas Day itself, save that it was humidly hot in the dusty little town we were staying in.

My third Christmas was my first one as a wife. We spent that year, and the subsequent year, with Richard's sister who lives near Mount Kenya. Our celebrations were eerily reminiscent of my childhood: the only difference was that we went to the tiny local church on Christmas Eve, and that the weather was warm. And there was no television.

The following year was our first with friends: two young American couples, who have remained friends - even though we live on three continents - to this day. We shared secret Santa presents, bidding for each others' gifts, reading the Christmas story, and laughing until our sides ached. And still no television!

Then there were several years of huge parties with other expatriates and missionaries as all gathered together. We introduced each other to festive jellies - eaten with turkey; to Christmas pudding; to pound cake, smothered in icing; to snickerdoodles and peppernusse. Our children learnt to celebrate cross-culturally, multi-nationally, multi-lingually.

That set the scene for celebrating with friends: no two Christmases were the same. Yet there was always one constant: we were all followers of Jesus, ecstatic at the news of his birth, remembering with thankfulness.

And still no television.

It will be the same again this year!

Christmas letters

Much as I enjoy receiving newsletters at Christmas, I also enjoy writing our own. It's always a challenge to encapsulate our news to give friends a yearly update of where we are and what we have been doing.

I always try and stick to a (relatively) simple formula.

1. One side of A4.
2. In a font size that is not so tiny that one needs reading glasses, nor so large that it looks childish.
3. Informative, yet not boastful.
4. Does not contain extensive details of holidays or other achievements.
5. Mildly amusing, if possible. I quite like a self-deprecatory style if I can manage it.
6. Sometimes a common theme is quite useful: it has the advantage of concentrating my mind and keeping me from waffling on.

Any of you reading this may not think I have achieved the criteria - oh well, at least I tried!

Christmas, and other things

Christmas is almost upon us, and my heart is full.
Full of thanksgiving for all the friends who have, once again, got in touch.
Full of joy on hearing of rich, fulfilled, happy lives.
Full of sorrow of hearing of others' pain: illness, bereavement, disappointment, struggles.
Full of the sheer happiness of this season.

I mustn't take it all for granted.

Thursday 18 December 2008

last days

The last days of term have been and gone. Filled with carols and cards, laughter and lilting songs... The children contained their excitement as they dutifully performed in the carol service before the blessed relief of the last morning when they were allowed to just play games.

My class sang outstandingly well, behaved beautifully and made it a fun time for me as well. Then there were the little presents and cards, so thoughtfully done.
You can see the effort that has gone into a card and that means more than anything. This class give me so much, they are a delight.

The school is closed, but I am still working: preparing for next term already. We have inspectors coming in, but that is another story...

Sunday 14 December 2008

Moonlight

Thursday night. 9.30.

I'd just said goodbye to my guest. My special friend, Sarah. We have created an oasis of time together, meeting every week to share our lives, to pray with and for each other, to talk to God about our world and all our concerns for it.

It was cold and frosty. The moon shone as bright as day. The headlights quickly faded as she drove off, leaving me alone in the stillness with the moon.

I collected the dog, and started running. We ran to the beach.

The lanes were lit up as bright as day, my shadow sharp in front of me as I ran for the joy of being alive in God's night. A heron squawked overhead while the ducks in the field chattered, alarmed to hear me passing by when all else was quiet.

There is nothing as magical as being out, alone, with only the moon and a dog for company.

Wednesday 10 December 2008

Jason Upton

We went to see Jason Upton perform on Sunday evening. Jason (http://www.jasonupton.net/vision/) is a Christian singer/songwriter. He has the most beautiful voice which is a joy to listen to. Accompanying him as he sang and played the piano were a group of drummer and guitarists. All the way from the USA. I'm not sure how they came to come to this tiny place, but it was a wonderful opportunity for us.

The evening was awesome.

I don't just mean that the music was great (it was) or that we were entertained (as we were) but awesome in the real sense of the word. There was an almost tangible sense of God's presence over the packed concert hall.

The nearest I can get to describing the experience was that Jason sang prayers to God over us for a couple of hours.

Awesome.

2 sleeps, 5 sleeps

Cat comes home on Friday afternoon, Jonny on Monday. I can't wait!

Both begin work next week so hopefully they will have a few days at least of wind-down before they start. They return to the same place every time: both companies they work for are delighted to have them back again. Jonny even has a bursary to help towards his uni costs.

God has been so faithful to them both.

Tuesday 9 December 2008

Herm

The weather was fantastic at the weekend. Sunday dawned pink, clearing the way for a brilliant blue sky and dazzling sunshine. Oh so cliched, oh so true.

We bunked off church in the morning, and took the boat over to Herm. 20 minutes over the water and you're in another world. No cars, no hurry, no bustle. Just a mile or so of gentle hills, rabbit-cropped turf and sandy beaches.


We walked up from the harbour, passing the two pubs, the hotel, handful of holiday cottages and the tiny church. Every Sunday the owner holds a short service in this ancient chapel, so lovingly cared for with polished pews and fresh flowers.
Over the other side of the hill, Belvoir Bay nestles at the bottom of a valley. Shells the size of a pinhead scattered the shore at our feet. We drank our coffee in a sheltered nook among the rocks, listening to the swell of the waves beating gently on the shore.

Paradise.

Diariaising

Is this the right spelling? It doesn't look like it. It's my attempt at a single word for 'keeping a diary'.

The neat thing about this blog is that I can type, rather than write. My handwriting is appalling. A uniquely bad pencil grip puts incredible strain on my fingers, so that after only a few minutes they start to ache, cramp up, and experience shooting pains. Not good. I've tried to improve it in the past, but never got to the stage of a good handwriting style. When I teach handwriting to the children, I have the utmost sympathy for those who struggle. I know how they feel. That's one good thing about my writing, anyway.

The other neat thing is that NO ONE READS THIS. It's just like having a private diary, but more convenient than saving entries onto a file. If I did that, I'd have to remember where I filed them, open up the file each time, and so on. This is just so much easier. And I love the labelling system, too! So easy to find things I've written in the past.

Saturday 6 December 2008

Just over a week to go

We have just over a week to go before the end of term. There is a great deal to get done, but it's all good fun. Next week we will be making books, placemats, Christmas hats, Christmas cards...

It all takes some managing. The children get very excited.
Very excited = rather silly.
Rather silly = overexcited.
Overexcited = sometimes unable to manage behaviour and emotions.

This happened on Friday break. A dispute on the football pitch.
Remedy: all the boys involved had to meet up at lunchtime and decide on how they were going to play with each other.
Result: a list of all the boys who had attended the meeting with an accompanying list of rules.
Eminently sensible, and all done without a teacher's presence.

I am so proud of them.

Laughter

I'm not sure quite how to explain this. Let me start at the beginning.

The children had read the story of the birth of Jesus and were now in the process of rewriting it as a story of their own. Most had only just begun relating the events leading up to the birth when Sam put his hand up and asked a question.
"What does accomplice mean?"
"Um... partner in crime would be the nearest," I replied.
"That won't do, then," he said, chuckling.
I looked down at his book. He had written: A long time ago, in Bethlehem, Joseph and his accomplice...

We chuckled over that one for some time.

Church

We looked at our values at church committe last week. We narrowed it down to five. I rather liked this acronym:

Real relationship - with God
Open to God - through prayer and worship
Living in love - relationships with each other
Overcoming evil - the reason for being, our mission statement
Seeking God's kingdom - teaching the Bible and, I would add, through the experience of the Holy Spirit.

This is a lovely acronym. Rolos are delicous sweets: toffee, covered in chocolate, stacked up in a tube.

I'd rather like to be a Rolo