Norman's last hours. Sadness.

Norman left us today.
He had been part of the family for over five years. Included in many an outing, taken on shopping trips, or adventures around the island, he was very much loved. He even accompanied J and C to school as soon as he was able.
He wasn't, however, terribly well cared for. He would occasionally get a brush-up, even a wash; generally kept well watered, and we made sure he always had enough energy to join in with whatever was going on. There were seasons of neglect, though. When Cat and Jonny were away, he got very little attention from the Parents. Occasionally, I'd let him come with me on a journey to school, but otherwise I would deliberately leave him at home on his own. He wasn't, at the time, particularly important to me. Once Cat or Jonny came home from uni, he was up and about again, privy to many a secret as friends hung out together.
I took Norman for granted. I think we all did, in one way or another, but he was, generally, very faithful to us, doing whatever we asked of him. He carried all Jonny's surfboards for him, putting up with the sand and seawater. He didn't much like sand, but still went on the beach. Getting him off it was more of a challenge: I'm sorry to say that he only agreed to climb up the slipway when threatened. We'll gloss over the next bit, save to say that that the tide was coming in rapidly while he was still on the beach, and that LARGE stones had to be used to persuade him.
Towards the end, he really became the worse for wear. He looked beaten-up, battered and worn out. He still had lots of energy once he got going but it sometimes took a while...but towards the end his battery just ran flat all the time.
So, with intense sadness, we reluctantly decided he had to go. His life - exciting, adventurous, faithful, true - had come to an end.
He was reluctant to leave us. Halfway to his final resting place, he ground to a halt. Refused to move. We were left with no alternative but to plug him in to a new battery.
Arriving at the cemetery, it was all over in a matter of minutes. As we walked away, he was being pushed around the corner by three burly men.
So sad.

There he is. He's the good-looking one in the middle.
We wanted to give him a good send-off, but couldn't get it organised in time. He was never very keen on drinking, fortunately for him (brushes with the police were few and far between), so perhaps that wouldn't have been appropriate. But please do join us in our mourning by adding your fond memories of Norman into the comments box below.
Thank you.

Norman in his heyday...

...with J, ready for the surf...

...and sharing secrets with his friends Mary and Cat.
PS In case you think we have been unduly harsh, let me detail what was wrong with Norman: the windows did not wind any more - up was up, down was down; the door hinges were broken, so that the door would swing wildly open and refuse to shut properly; the windscreen was beginning to need new cataracts - the glass was beginning to become opaque; there were rust holes in the floor; the door trim had become detached and the front bumper had had several disastrous connections with rocks. 'Nuff said!

The gift of hospitality

Bonnie's topic this week is The gift of hospitality'. She features Tammy Maltby, author of The Lifegiving Woman, who says: Your hospitality shouldn’t look like anyone else’s. Hospitality really means loving others with your life...hospitality is a message you give others about their value. It is not about impressing someone but rather providing comfort and care. It is about loving others with...
Your cracked dishes
• Your dramatic flair
• Your dinky apartment
• Your fabulous chili
• Your shyness and introversion
• Your soft spot for teenagers or senior citizens or singles or college students
• Your organizational challenges
• Your impossible schedule
• Your grubby kitchen floor
• Your Oriental rugs
• Your geriatric poodle and overly affectionate cats
• Your knack for decorating
• Your offbeat sense of humor
• Your tendency to run late
• Your perfectionist tendencies
• Your late paycheck
• Your unruly toddlers or sullen teens…or empty nest

Oh yes, I totally agree. Hospitality is about creating a welcoming place for others in my life.
Hospitality means...
taking time to notice when I need to 'invite someone in' to my life
offering my limited listening skills
putting my own agenda aside
opening up my heart
making myself vulnerable
holding the door wide open.

Yet hospitality is also about...
taking time to invite someone to share food
offering up my finances to take a friend out to coffee
putting my need to write aside
opening up my home
making myself vulnerable with a home that is not perfect
holding the door wide open.

Yes, I thought Tammy's post inspiring. So I looked up her blog... and then her wise words of 'Everything you are—your personality, your resources, your circumstances, your talents and spiritual gifts, even your particular failings and challenges—can be used by God to do his kingdom work of hospitality.' flew out the window. She is awesome - no surprise that she is so successful at hospitality! Feeling totally inadequate by comparison, I wondered how on earth I really COULD be as hospitable as her.

I find it really quite hard to believe that my sunk-in-the-middle cakes, second-hand furniture, chipped china and inability to 'pretty up' a table can actually help make others feel at home in my life. Yet I need to remember that hospitality is not about me.

However good a cook I might, or might not be, however beautiful - or not - my home, it's not about putting on a good performance. It's about putting others first. Heard that somewhere before? As it says in Philippians 2:3 Do nothing out of selfish ambition or vain conceit, but in humility consider others better than yourselves.

So yes, I can enjoy putting on a breakfast. Or having people to stay for weeks on end, as I have just done - the house has seen more cooking, cleaning and washing of bed linen than it has done for months.

But in the end, it's not about me. Just about offering what I have to Jesus, letting him use it for his glory. I hope.

Once upon a time there was a pond...

Once upon a time there was a pond...a small, barren, neglected pond. Then weed blew in and covered the surface of the water until there was nothing to be seen bar a green carpet.
Ducks and ducklings arrived.
Within a week, the weed had been eaten, the clear water dulled and polluted and the barren look returned. Yet the pond was not neglected. Oh no, Mama and her faithful four visited it several times a day; swam on it; dived into it; bathed in it. It had LOTS of attention.
The ducklings grew up. Mama left. The young grew wings, fledged and flew away.
The mucky water cleared and then, one day, the pond weed returned.

And multiplied.
And exploded!

Rabbits galore!

Mixed blessings, rabbits.

Entertainment value: 10 out of 10. As I type, Our Rabbit, who has been with us since he was Tiny Bunny,is busy chomping his way across the lawn. He acts rather like the dog: lies on his side,asleep, on hot sunny afternoons; sits up, ears alert, watching something hidden in the bushes; or stretches his front paws out, legs extended behind him.
Very like the dog.
Mostly, he ignores us when we attempt to stop him digging in the flowerbeds. And he barely moves when we go outside to sit on the lawn - probably because he thinks it belongs to him.
Very like the dog.
Sometimes, he leaps up, chasing around for apparently no reason; or sits up on his hind legs and EATS the roses. (He particularly likes the petals, but he'll snack on leaves as well.)

Nuisance value: 10 out of 10.
Holes in the lawn. Holes in the flowerbeds. A massive hole, surrounded by mud, in the middle of the bottom lawn.

The damage is not caused by 'our' rabbit, though. That must be due to Evil Bunny, who has a vicious black stripe across his nose, or Ugly Bunny, with his 'staring' coat.

And it certainly can't be the fault of the 'Mini-Buns' - two miniscule rabbits who leap around the front of the house, darting in and out of the bushes. Sooo sweet!