Saturday 29 December 2012

Definitely December

What can I say?
School:
Explorers Day - dressed up as Tudor sailors, map-making, experiencing life at sea...
Christmas lunch and party games
Carol Service
END OF TERM!
Home:
Christmas cards and yearly news letter
Preparations for Christmas
Catching up
Christmas shopping
Away:
Family visit: Cambridge
Family visit: Norwich
Proclaimers Church
Arrivals:
Jonny. Cat.
Adele
Christmas!

Tuesday 18 December 2012

Christmas

Christmas Day comes rushing towards me. School is now finished, and I have a blessed free week to catch up on all the things which have gone neglected over the last term, clearing up the detritus of a teacher's life.
Blessed week.
I have learnt not to stress with a 'to do' list. Yes, I make the list, I prioritise, yet if something doesn't 'get done' then perhaps it didn't NEED to get done in the first place. Perhaps 'it' was one of life's little optional extras. Nice if it happens, not the end of the world if it doesn't.
Because there are indeed only few things in life that are really important. Like breathing. Loving. Laughing.
This coming Saturday is important. Saturday evening Cat and Jonny return home, landing within minutes of each other, flights permitting.
Saturday afternoon my dear friend Kareena brings her dog Howie to play with Pickle. Best of friends, these two little dogs know each other's names.
Saturday morning friends gather here for breakfast. A brief pause in their Christmas rush, a reconnecting.
Loving. Laughing.
So I thought I might show these cute little films which have been doing the rounds. Coincidentally, they are from a church in Auckland and Cat has seen a live showing of this year's offering at their Christmas celebration GLOW.
Look at this fresh take on an everlasting story.


What I love most about these brilliant films is the last line of the credits: BASED ON A TRUE STORY.
Indeed.

PS Tammy Maltby has some great insights about what is IMPORTANT about Christmas. It's Jesus. Obvious, but we forget it.


Friday 7 December 2012

No...vember!

Where did November go?  Washed away in fog, gales and torrential rain. Driving home one night, we crawled through the lanes as the rain lashed down, reducing visibility to just a few yards. Flights were delayed or cancelled and my bike barely saw the light of day some weeks. WEATHER!

In many ways, I barely noticed. The pace at school accelerated to breakneck as we struggled to get reports written (8,500 words) and parents meetings (more than 6 hours in total, spread over 2 evenings on the same week of report deadlines) fitted in. Add to that the start of the build-up to Christmas!

Inbetween, I fitted in the breakfast I host every month for a small group of wonderful friends. Brilliant to get together over the croissants and share our lives as we follow Jesus. We're even in touch on facebook as we are part of an online Bible study with Good Morning Girls.  Then there was school open day; catching up with old friends; coffees and lunches; and, of course, Pickle's weekly playdate with her best friend Boston Terrier Howie and a walk on the beach.

It seemed as if November passed me by: yet it was an unusually packed month.  Certainly NOT a non-event!

Saturday 3 November 2012

An Odd October...

Bereavement. Starting October with my mother's last days was not the best way to begin the month...She died on October 3rd and the family gathered to celebrate her life on October 11th. Gladness and sorrow.
Illness. Nothing serious, just an unpleasant feverish cold...which went on for weeks. And weeks. Struggled through school somehow.
Half term and holiday. A welcome break - and recuperation - in Lanzarote. How we love that arid island.
Friends. Pickle and Howie's walking date is a highlight of most Saturday afternoons. We owners look forward to the tea and cake and chat while the dogs play. Thursday evenings are small oases of refreshment, too, as we meet with our church home group. Plus various others...lovely.
Was October odd?  Yes, and no.  The unexpected, the strange, the familiar... yes.


Saturday 27 October 2012

Lanzarote refreshment

Balm for my soul,
nautical twilight
gently suffuses the horizon.
stars creep
from long-forgotten hiding places
doting on the arid land.

and I remember
a long ago journey
through a desert deserted place.
a young mother, a dreaming father, a trusting babe.

Along the skyline, one by one by one,
crawl camels and goats.
A dog barks lonely in the distance.

Hibiscus, bougainvillea, euphorbia, mimosa, cactus...
grow, without soil, out of the black picon,
those astonishing dark particles of rock
attracting moisture,
sharing generously
under cover of darkness,
nourishing life with water.

Centuries ago
an olive tree began to grow,
leaning away
from a harsh prevailing wind.

A froth of surf
lacily fringes an azurely turquoise sea
caressing a golden beach.

Volcanic mounds
scatter a landscape patterned
with terraced gardens and vineyards.

Coming with peace, twilight
beckons with mysterious fingers,
hands full of promise.

This seemingly barren landscape
loves me with possibilities.
My soul rests, rejoicing.

Wednesday 17 October 2012

Love

Lovethefeeling comes over me suddenly
taking my face by surprise
as eyes crinkle, mouth smiles, cheeks crease
with remembered laughter.
Lovethefeeling grows warm gratitude deep within.
within my heart-and-stomach.
gratitude for sonsanddaughters,
brothersandsisters
who live Christlives
in everyday-daily-service.
Rejoice, mysoul, rejoice, rejoice.

My mother

My mother would have reached the age of 89 years in December: in my grandmother's words, she would have reached her 90th year.
She didn't.  She died on October 3rd.
This was how she looked on my last visit to her:
She hasn't known me for years, but immediately said: "You look like me!"  That's close enough, I guess...

...having a laugh - so typical of her - with Cat

A last look.
She really did have the most lovely smile and loved to laugh. But, although these photos don't really do justice to her, she looked more content - and her hair was prettier - than she had done for quite some time.
And that was a great, great blessing.

PS. After her death, friends wrote kind cards. Those with memories of her with especially treasured. Some of those kind words:
"Nothing prepares us for the death of a parent."

"A ship sails and I stand watching till she fades on the horizon and someone at my side says she is gone.
Gone where? Gone from my sight, that is all. She is just as large now as when i last saw her. her diminished size and total loss from my sight is in me, not in her.
And just at that moment, when someone at my side says she is gone, there are others who are watching her coming over their horizon and other voices take up a glad shout - there she comes!
That is what dying is.
A horizon and just the limit of our sight.
Lift us up O Lord, that we may see further." Bishop Brent.

"I remember her vividly as a great family friend who was always bubbling over with her characteristic zest for life, a truly good person who was always a pleasure to be around."
"We enjoyed the friendship between our two families and how welcome your parents always made us feel when we ventured up the road to number 75..." (Clifton Road, Rugby, our family home.)

Sunday 14 October 2012

Ursula Wolff, my mother


Just back from my mother’s funeral – she died on October 3rd – so am just recording some family memories put together for the occasion. Not my blogpost, really. 

Memories of Ursula Wolff

Her son Matthew 
Mum had very strong memories of her childhood in India and shared them with us often.  She often mentioned her first seven years in Lahore. Having a race with her father in the garden and being shocked that he didn't let her win! She remembers travelling by train, winding up through the hills to Simla or Srinagar where she would spend the summer with her mother and sister to escape the heat of Lahore.  Mum had exotic stories of travelling back on the ships from India to England via the Suez canal and stopping off in such places as Malta.  She had vivid memories of playing with a little friend on the upper deck and splashing around with hoses while the sailors, who played along, were trying to wash down the decks.

Mum spoke often of her wonderful aunts who looked after her while she was in England and her own parents were in India. She visited her Aunty Madeleine and Uncle Eulich (one of her father's sisters and her husband) in Muswell Hill every Sunday and became close to her cousins. She spent her holidays with her Auntie Trixie and Uncle Fred (her mother's sister and husband). After the war, she went to live with Auntie Cissie and Auntie Charlotte (two more of her father's sisters) in Lutterworth. It was in Lutterworth that she met our father.

The second world war of course had a big impact on our mother. An incredibly generous person, the war also taught my mother not to be wasteful, lessons which people are only now beginning to re-learn.

I'll remember Mum for so many wonderful things but especially her love and warmth.  She had lots of interests and enthusiasms including beautiful gardens, books, travelling to new places, spending time with people from other countries, looking after animals. She passed many, or even all, of these passions to her children, and to her grand-children to whom she was devoted.  

She had a great sense of humour, an infectious laugh and sparkly eyes.

I have fond memories of Mummy and Paula giggling together conspiratorially.

My friends remember Mum for her generosity and for treating them as if they were her own family. Her simnel cake is famous amongst them. Some have the recipe and have lovely memories of savouring her beautifully decorated and delicious simnel cakes. 

Her daughter Isabel 
a.  Her famously lavish hospitality when family and friends visited – the table groaning under the weight of her chocolate cakes, sandwiches, home made biscuits and brandy snaps, flans and her ‘incomparable’ chocolate mousse (Frances Mary mentioned this to me.)   She loved cooking – especially anything sweet.
b.  Her love of the Scilly Isles – a place that she and Paul discovered together, and that they were to visit again and again with their children and, later, grandchildren.
c.  Her infectious laugh.
c.  She adored having foreign exchange students in the house, from France, Germany, Austria, and Switzerland, and devoted herself to helping them learn English, making them practice their vocabulary and pronunciation again and again, and with Paul, she was energetic in showing these children as much of the UK as could be fitted into their stay – the Cotswolds, the Lake District, Lyme Regis, Devon and the Scillies. They all have warm memories of the generous interest she took in them.
d.  Her love of gardening – she was extremely well informed about the botanical names of plants, and she and Paul filled their walled garden at Rugby, and later at Canalside in Northwich with a blaze of ceanothus, cotoneasta, clematis, roses, phlox, lilies of the valley and many others.
e.  Her love of animals – she happily made room for dogs, cats, gerbils, stick insects, and, with slightly more reluctance, Rupert the Rat who Angela saved from vivisection.  It was a ‘pity’ she said, that it had a ‘rather revolting tail’.
f. One defining characteristic was a kind of (slightly innocent), girlish charm. 
g. Mummy had a lovely smile and was a very appreciative person.

Personal Qualities

a.  Mummy showed a lot of courage.  Born in Lahore, the eldest of 3 children, she was sent home to St Martin’s convent in Muswell Hill and there were long years when she didn’t see her parents, who were still in India, and unable to get a passage home because of the war.  Mummy went there at 7, in 1931, and only saw her parents again in 1936, then not until 1943 when her mother - we called her 'Nonna' - came back on her own. She saw her father again in 1946 so she hadn’t seen him for 10 years. She bore this with fortitude, never complaining in later life about it, simply saying that it was just ‘the way it was in those days.’  But her sadness at not having a family life with her mother, father and two younger siblings can be imagined.  However she spent happy holidays with her Auntie Madeleine, Uncle Fred and her cousins in Ealing, and later, when she left school, with two maiden Aunts in Lutterworth.  It was here, aged 17, that she went to work locally as a secretary at Power Jets, where Frank Whittle and his team had developed the jet engine, and were testing new fighter jets for the war.  One of the team of young engineers was Paul Wolff, just down from Cambridge, who had noticed Ursula’s blue eyes, her very pretty face, and her laughter.  So he plucked up the courage into her office and ask her if he could have a pencil from the stationary cupboard, which was her domain.  As this went very well, he then he asked her if she’d like to go to a concert with him at the de Montfort Hall in Leicester, and that, pretty much, was that.  They married in 1953, and moved to Rugby where they bought 75 Clifton Road, a house in which they brought up their four children, and which they were to own for fifty years.  At their fiftieth wedding anniversary in 2003, Paul said in his speech ‘Ursula was my first love, and is my only love.’  She had the blessings of a strong and happy marriage, and of having had four children.  She had to bear the great sadness of losing Simon, in 1995, and again showed courage and fortitude in this.  In their retired years she and Paul spent many happy times together going on holidays or trips to National Trust properties or gardening together or, best of all, spending time with their children and grandchildren.

b.  Very affectionate mother, endlessly interested in what her children, and grandchildren, were all doing – never happier than when we were with them.  Very welcoming to all her children’s friends.   She was a devoted daughter to her mother, Irene, and a wonderful daughter-in-law to Paul’s mother, Lucy, both of whom spent nearly every weekend at (my parents’ home in) Rugby.

Her daughters-in-law
- She had an eye for a good bargain and loved to share the results with everyone in the family. Useful household items (cake tins, handy-sized colanders, letter scales, purses) were distributed at regular intervals.
- Although she was home-loving and very family-centred, she definitely also had itchy feet! She loved going for drives in the countryside and calling in for a pub lunch somewhere (though she stuck religiously to lemonade)
- She adored sitting in the sun - anytime, anywhere - and was quite happy to wait outside on a bench in the sun whilst the rest of us wandered off and did other things. A picture of contentment.
- She loved the seaside and thought beachcombing great fun, especially looking for pretty shells
- She had a stock of family tales of past adventures and places visited. She'd start the tale off and get Paul to fill in the geographical and chronological details. A family ritual.
- She had firm favourites both in literature and film. Every Christmas (and many other times too) we would watch videos of Mr Bean and Those Magnificent Men in their Flying Machines. Cue shrieks of laughter from both grandma and grandchildren.
- Ursula loved playing with all her grandchildren.
Ursula tended to stock up on things. We have only just run out of cling-film from the cottage!  (5 years after it was cleared.) 
She was very good at throwing and catching and never dropped a tennis ball!

The grandchildren 
- She loved doing "Round and round the garden, like a teddy bear" when we were young
- She liked teaching us the names of flowers (on the Scillies)
- She had a great laugh
- She loved going out for pub lunches

My friends Lena and Ulf, who live in Sweden, wrote:  “We are very glad to have had the opportunities to meet Mrs. Wolff a couple of times. We liked her "British lady" style and her wits, humour and bright mind.Ulf remembers especially taking your parents on an outing to Öland, and when asking them how they found Öland, Mrs. Wolff answered with british "not-get-impressed" tone of voice: Well, I think it just looked like Siberia... Ulf just loved that comment. We also have very good memories of Mrs. Wolff from the years we met in Rugby. We also cherish Mrs. Wolff´s concern for us sending us a piece of your wedding cake as we were unable to attend the ceremony. We still keep that particular parcel in our fridge and it has even accompanied us when changing houses.”

I had nothing left to improve on this, save that she had a good sense of humour, loved jokes, and loved shopping – especially for bargains!

October 10th 2012

Sunday 30 September 2012

Slipper sisters

Just visited my dear 'more than a sister friend' Ann.

Being together is like putting on a pair of comfortable slippers. We laughed as we wondered exactly what kind of slippers each of us was.

I wanted to be one of an elegant pair of mules: pale blue, with gold edging and ostrich feathers on top. Functional yet beautiful. Ann is even more like that - slim, elegant, shining with glory.

We make a good pair.

Being with another of my friends is definitely like putting on a pair of sheepskin slippers: no-nonsense ties at the front which fit the slipper securely to the foot. Warm, safe, solid. Reassuring. Comforting.

Another friendship is a pair of flip-flops - 'slippers' to Kenyans. Casual, bare-footed, ready to slip off at a second's notice to race together into adventure: on safari in the bush, discovering new tracks and pathways.

Yet another close relationship is almost like 'old person's slippers'; nothing fancy to look at, worn down a little at the heel, yet containing so much wisdom and experience, gladly shared.

And while serviceable shoes, sturdy, waterproof boots, pretty shoes and light-hearted sandals are all important: nothing feels as close to home as slippers. And slipper sisters.

And a PS from Ann:

"Now for those slippers. I think you got the wrong pair for me. Mine are well worn, frayed at the edges and hard to find; they are somewhere in my wardrobe and tend to sum me up. Yes I do need to come out of the closet. No Angela, you are not a mule, certainly not a blue depressed one. Your slippers are bursting forth with your curly wurly feet that are ready to dance and embrace the adventures that come your way. 

Thank you for being such a good and noble friend."


Whoohoo - love the 'noble' bit! But yes...maybe pink mules would be better...?

Sizzling September!

Well, not really, although the first weekend was as hot as midsummer, without a cloud in the sky. We whizzed off to Jersey for a couple of nights: our enormous tent, camping equipment - making sure we had REALLY comfy bedding, new beach chairs and dog all in our tiny Micra. Room to spare, too. Leaving picturesque St Peter Port behind, with its higgledepiggledy cluster of buildings which look like a pile of pastel-coloured liquorice sweets climbing up from sea,gives the feeling of embarking on a cruise. The calm crossing was a bonus. A quiet, almost empty campsite looking over to France; slow walks through lanes, exploring the architecture and history of our sister island; and a visit to old friends, made for a relaxing start to a hectic month. Sitting in Alan and Clare's garden over afternoon tea, catching up on how God has been working in our lives, was a real joy.

Then it was back into work, with a vengeance. We both had heavy schedules, fitting in meals with friends round long days and the odd evening commitment at school. The beginning of the school year is always a testing time: not just because we are all, children and teachers alike, reeling from the effect of full-time learning after full-time holiday, but also because there really is so much that needs to be put into place to establish the curriculum. Lots of planning, admin and creating of new displays.

Yet there was still time to fit in a monthly breakfast - which we ate sitting outside in warm sunshine at 9 in the morning in mid-September. So wonderful to catch up again - it had only been a month since our last meeting, but we had holidays, festivals and family celebrations to catch up on. Then there was another church get together with Annie Hughes, New Wine leader from Oxfordshire, who led us through Esther. 130 women from churches across the island took a day out of busy lives to spend time worshipping and listening to God - and, even, receive prayer: what a privilege.

The month finished with a four night sermon series on the book of Revelation - so informative and inspiring. A heavy subject eased by David Bracewell's entertaining style of delivery. Don't think I've ever managed to grasp the overview before.

Yet I am listening to the last in the series as I write, because I missed the last one: an emergency, mid-week trip to Manchester to see my mother, who is failing fast. My dear friend Ann met me at the airport and took me to see her: very frail now, she opened her eyes once or twice but didn’t even seem to register that I was there, let alone recognise me. I went back the next day and spent about three hours in her room, praying and smiling at her when she opened her eyes. I think she almost recognised me a couple of times – once, she smiled, pointed to herself and then to me, which I think was the same as when Cat and I saw her in August and she said, no longer recognising me by name even then: ‘You look like me’, and another time she spoke (most of the time I couldn’t understand what she was saying at all) and then, I THINK, said ‘you’re a special girl’!!

She seemed quite content and peaceful, is well looked after, and I did feel as if I’d done everything I could by the time I left. And my stay with Ann was an unexpected bonus, as we stayed up late and shared the deepest thoughts and feelings of our hearts. A friendship beyond words.
September. Busy. Joys. Sorrows. Family. Friendship.

Tuesday 11 September 2012

August!

I sat down to recount August's exploits on 2nd September - the day after Cat left to go back to New Zealand - and found I could only write this instead...
August began slowly and then galloped when first Jonny, then Cat, came home for visits. We were blessed with Adele as well, and her parents for a brief visit, too.

C and J spent some time getting to know Pickle...



...and Mags arrived:
A trip to Rousse for coffee and a beach walk...


 Giant fennel!  Love it!
Fun in the kitchen...
 A visit to Vale Castle to see Oddsocks perform Julius Caesar...



Monday 20 August 2012

feelings

people like me
do not wear our hearts on sleeves.
our feelings are buried deep within.

we do not fuss or shout
or crave attention.
our feelings are buried deep within.

we endure quietly
stolidly ploughing life's furrows.
holding on with patient determination.

that does not mean
we like to be ignored.
we too  appreciate kindness.

acts of love sink deep.
are held in those quiet places
deep within.

Thursday 9 August 2012

July


A mixed emotions month – but then, isn’t every month like that?

The first week of July was the last week of school... packed with prizegiving evening, school concert and a lot of tidying, clearing out and packing up. Fortunately, the latter was really easy – I have had an AMAZING class this year who are capable, helpful, sensible, efficient, well-organized, co-operative and wonderfully eager to do anything they are asked. Getting the classroom sorted was surprisingly fun.

Prizegiving, on the other hand...oh, every year it is the same. The delight on a child’s face when the prize is announced; the pleasure from other children when they see their friend sit down, proudly clutching a prize; the disappointment which hangs in the air when all is over and the MAJORITY of the children go home with nothing.  Yes, I know we can’t all win prizes and most of the teachers try to spread them around all the deserving children, rather than awarding several prizes to one child: often, there are several contenders for the same award. Yet perhaps there should be a policy that every child who is leaving is recognized for at least one achievement...? There are many arguments for and against this tradition, but the lesson that ‘not everyone is necessarily a winner’ is a hard one to learn and perhaps needs to be taught in a different way, i.e. that ‘everyone is a winner at SOMETHING’.  We encourage children to explore and develop their talents and gifts – so perhaps we should continue to develop this across every aspect of school life.

I could carry on ranting about this for a long time. On to happier things.

End of term finished very happily. So satisfying, as a teacher, to know that children have benefited from being with me: when I see huge progress in communicating, as children who were hesitant about speaking, reading or writing have gained confidence. Sometimes, I can almost see them grow physically as their self-belief blossoms. I know they would have made progress with anyone, really, but I love looking back to the beginning of the year and seeing the strides they have made...

Once term ended it was catch-up time – with cleaning, with chores left undone, with unlimited reading, with friends and even school-work!  The weather wasn’t great the first couple of weeks so I was happy to put in the hours on my computer and start preparing for next term. I know by the time I get to the end of August that I will have ‘wound down’ big time and it is always a huge effort to start The Teaching Machine going again.

So, all caught up for the end of the month when my dear friends arrived for their annual visit – and the weather turned wonderful.  July weather at last.

(I haven't mentioned the Olympics. The Olympic Torch flew in to Guernsey - great excitement. As for the games,,, I'm glad, in a way, that we don't have television - I wouldn't have made it outside into the garden for a fortnight, though I have sussed out how to watch on iplayer while sitting comfortably on the lawn...)

Friday 27 July 2012

A quiet joy...

Our yearly reunion came round again, eventually. It always seems both long - and short - since we last met up. Words are not enough for our relationship.  It feels like family. It feels like best friends. It feels as if, sometimes, these friends know me better than I know myself. Safe. Loving. Accepting. Joyous. Peaceful. Enough.
Ann, Cath, myself, Mary - barbecue supper...

...and fruity al fresco breakfast.

The Church of Christ the Healer - with God, all things are possible.
Meeting up again
just a year ago
we walked together, laughed together,
celebrated
a friendship endured
across years
across countries
across continents.
These friends 
who know and are known.
Truth tellers.
Masks off, souls bared. No pretence.
Women who ask real questions,
listening to unspoken yearnings, doubts, loves.
Questions answered in honesty
to know and be known.
There is no sense of urgency.

We live in the moment, THIS moment. 
Gazing back at shared experiences, looking forward 
to an unknown future, 
LIVING, together, in this moment.
Finding healing together.
After they left, I felt bereft, momentarily
until the gap closed
and normal life resumed once more.

Thursday 5 July 2012

Jumping June!

July already well under way and I haven't yet paused for breath.
Yes, end of term.
so June...
Juggling 'normal' class teaching with writing reports (only 8,500 words this time...), completing the school gardening club scrapbooks (spending every available moment on selecting photographs, cutting, pasting and labelling) and going to a presentation ceremony for the local Conservation Awards.
Undergoing the ordeal of being filmed for our school website. I got to know the film crew rather too well when they pitched up in my maths lesson, then gardening club at lunchtime and finally in our Art lesson.
Nothing in school has thrilled me quite as much as seeing the progress the children have made this year. Their art work in particular has been stunning - they have produced amazing fabric designs, trying out all kinds of embroidery stitches for effect. Wow.
Ended the month with our annual trip to Manor Adventure Activity Centre in Shropshire. 5 days, 4 nights of fun activities from abseiling to wandering around the underground maze. Travel back in time to a Victorian village and sleep deprivation came as bonuses.

It wasn't all just about school. We celebrated the Queen's Diamond Jubilee and gained a fantastic overview of the events of the New Testament with Walk Through The  Bible.  I started a Bible study on the Proverbs 31 woman with friends from our monthly breakfast group. A friend got baptized. Another had a serious operation. Joys and sorrows...

Saturday 16 June 2012

Random questions to get a dinner conversation going...

Found some random questions to get a dinner conversation going...and added a few more...so recording them here for reference.  (Am convinced my laptop is going to turn up its toes and die soon, so best to store online!)

  1. What is your favorite color?
  2. If you could teach a dog a new trick, what would it be? 
  3. Do you enjoy singing? How about just in the shower?
  4. If you were a superhero, what would your superpower be?
  5. Can you do a cartwheel?
  6. What is your favorite sound?
  7. What would you do with £30.89?
  8. Do you have any weird tricks? (i.e., double jointed? wiggle your nose?, etc.)
  9. If you had to give up one of your five senses, which would it be and why?
  10. Do you have a favorite Bible verse? What is it?
  11. Which do you prefer: car, boat, or airplane? (money is no object)
  12. What is your earliest memory?
  13. Why did you come here today?
  14. Who do you most admire, and why?
  15. Where would you like to live?

Sunday 10 June 2012

May I remember May...

May began with a long-awaited event - since May last year, to be precise. New Wine Guernsey.  I always love it - modelled on the week long event in Somerset but held over a weekend. This year, speakers were Greg Haslam from Westminster Chapel and Mark Bailey from Trinity Church, Cheltenham. Both fantastic speakers. The music was excellent but most encouraging was seeing 700 Christians from across the island gathered together to worship. Just a wonderful weekend.
Liberation Day - annniversary of Guernsey's relief from the German Occupation - with friends.
New Wine Training Partnership morning - I have, at the moment, no intention of taking on this rigorous part-time study but the morning of teaching from Chris Pemberton on leadership was thought-provoking and inspiring. And then a lovely afternoon tea with friends from my Ladies Breakfast group...
A full day's course to support my job as PHSE coordinator...much to think about; a wedding in the UK - and then, on my return, I started to think about School Reports. In intentional capital letters.
By the time I had finished, I had written approximately 8500 words.
Hmmm.....

Monday 4 June 2012

Pickle performs

'Down!'

'Praise the Lord!'

'Let's dance!'
'Give paw', 'Sit' and 'Stay' coming later...

Sunday 3 June 2012

Diamond Jubilee celebrations


Our floral display and decorations at the front of the school as our street party starts.

Gilli's wonderful celebration cake.

My wonderful friend Gilli who organised it all with incredibly efficient planning and a whole heap of hard work.

Monday 28 May 2012

Account of a wedding - and nostalgia

Just back from a wedding in Shropshire. Lovely country hotel, beautiful flowers, great weather and all the usual wedding trimmings.

Patrick and Janine with Patrick's family
Janine and Patrick - R's nephew - were very sweet and obviously enjoyed their day. They had organised it all in minute detail, with thoughtful reply cards included in the invitation, a welcome letter as the day approached, and a theme of sunflowers and ladybirds. The wedding was held in a pavilion in the garden of the Elizabethan house, complete with red carpet. The bride wore a pretty embroidered and ruffled organza dress, the bridesmaids wore simple dark blue and the flower theme was huge sunflowers and even bigger blue hydrangeas!
Cake!
Really lovely and unusual. Each place was set with a little bag of sweets - a cream egg and jelly beans - and a perfectly formed tiny wooden top, handmade on a lathe by the groom, for each guest. Such fun!
our table
There were around 40, maybe less, for the actual wedding – a simple civil ceremony, with just a reading and entrance music. Then Pimms, photos and reception in a marquee – sit down, 3 course meal, all very lovely – and then their friends came for the evening dance. 
Richard SOOO disapproved of the ‘wedding dance’  - not the dance that P and J did, just the concept - but he did actually dance with me for an interminable enjoyable 5 minutes. Amazingly, we managed to keep in step with one another though it must have looked quite funny – especially as he kept trying to remember the salsa steps and do those to pop music! This was an improvement - the last time we danced, he performed a Scottish jig to waltz music...Perhaps we should try to learn ballroom dancing?
There were of course relatives, friends and acquaintances from decades long gone. Much catching up. We met a girl from Kenya, a twin a couple of years older than Cat and Jonny; I remembered we bought a double buggy from her mother when they were born. Cat is bridesmaid to a school friend this summer; this girl knows the other bridesmaid, from Cardiff, well. Common wisdom has it that there are no more than 7 links between any two people: this was only 4, but across two continents...
Richard with his sister Sarah
The next day, wedding over, we pootled slowly up to Manchester – our return flight left in the evening, so we had time to kill. So we stopped in Audlem, where we had visited a pub next to the canal with my parents, when the children were small: they had helped open the locks, which are very narrow there. We walked along the canal a bit, and nostalgia began to kick in. I spent much of my childhood and teens walking along the canal - the Grand Union - which circled our town, revisiting it much later when we returned from Kenya, exploring the history. It still fascinates...the technology and engineering needed nearly 300 years ago, skills which have stood the test of time. 
After that we went past Northwich, in Cheshire, where my parents had lived in a Victorian cottage overlooking another canal - the Trent and Mersey. The house was next to the pub at  Broken Cross and so we had a drink at the pub and a nose at the cottage, sold last year – the kitchen is being gutted and a lot of work done on the inside but the garden looked just the same. My mother had created a beautiful flower garden, filled with sweet-smelling shrubs and the roses she loved.
So then we went to see my mother, who knew me – and seemed to know Richard, too, at first anyway. She was in good spirits, laughing and joking though got very firm with one of the other residents (not right in the head) who came up. She looked well and was quite satisfied with a short visit – we stayed about 20 minutes in the end until she indicated that we should leave. It was a relief to see her so well - previous visits had been uncomfortable and strange, as she had been too confused to know who I was.
And so I am afflicted by nostalgia, and a wish to remember only the good, the happy. And for some absolutely unaccountable reason, I remembered this song from the 1940s which my father used to sing to me when I was very small: Mairzy Doats:
Memory is a strange thing...

Sunday 27 May 2012

Pickle and the pond

Friends have a beautiful pond with decorative antique glass floats adding an intriguing touch. We have some of these lovely fishing floats, too, so thought we'd add them. Pickle did NOT approve...

Aargh! Scary scary scary...
What on earth could this monster be? 
Don't like the look of his eyes...





Wednesday 9 May 2012

Neema House

What an inspiring evening yesterday with Joshua and Miriam Mbithi. They run Neema Children's Home in Eldoret, Kenya; a home for children infected and affected by HIV/AIDS.

Love just shines out of these two.The story of how they started - and continue, by faith - is amazing.

Watch this short clip about their work.


Here is their brochure. Read more here and here

Tuesday 8 May 2012

Moving on...

I've been greatly challenged recently by a relationship.  A friend, once close, has now become distant.
As far as I know, it's not my 'fault'. I've tried my best to 'fix' it, continued to be as gracious and loving as I could - yet to no avail.
I know I cannot change anyone else's actions, thoughts, feelings.
I do know it.
Yet I live in hope. I find myself saying:'Maybe if I... this time perhaps she will...I wish...'
Nothing seems to change.
A friendship, dying for some time, now seems dead.
Then I read these wise words from Susan Lawrence, drawing the analogy of a transplanted tree which then died,:

"When have you tried to grow something where it doesn’t belong? If you’re like me, just about anything you plant doesn’t survive regardless of where you plant it, but think beyond plants…
When have you continued a relationship that’s unhealthy? Taken a job that drains you of your energy and talents? Committed to volunteer out of guilt instead of passion and service? Rationalized behavior or attitude you know isn’t appropriate?
We’re often planted in imperfect soil for a season, awaiting transplant. Isn’t that what life on earth is? It’s imperfect, and we make sacrifices. We deal with less than ideal situations at times…and yet we begin to feel at home where we’re only intended to temporarily live. Be careful of creating stubborn root systems in temporary soil.
Still other seed fell on good soil. It came up, grew and produced a crop, multiplying thirty, sixty, or even a hundred times. Mark 4:8 (NCV)"
Trying to continue to 'grow' my dying relationship has to stop.
A lost friendship isn't something to mourn over. Nor are missed opportunities, past mistakes, difficult times.
Life is for living. Leave the past, move on in the present to the future.
Moving on.
(Having said that, I also know that Jesus is in the business of bringing life where there is death - so I try to keep an open heart without looking backwards.)


Also on that theme, I was reminded of these useful tips for choosing how I spend my life - time, energy, emotion - by Karen Ehman. When Life is Too Loud for Quiet Time, People-Pleasing + Passivity - Overcommitment,  Activity or Eternity and finally and most usefully: What's a Too-Busy Gal To Do?
Here are nuggets of wisdom: 
Every need isn't necessarily your call.
Make it your policy to pause.
Walk away and don't look back.
Don't take on more than you can pray for.
Live your priorities.
Stop second-guessing yourself.


She quotes from Renee Swope's book A Confident Heart:
“I know all of life is screaming for your time, but instead of giving your divided attention to many good things, commit to setting aside time each week to walk through the process of finding God’s things for you. A confident-in-Christ woman wants to know who God created her to be.  She is comfortable saying “no” to some things so that she can say “yes” to living the life God wants her to live.  She is intentional and secure about pursuing the spiritual purpose God has for her.”
Doesn't that sound like moving on?

February, this was you...but I forgot, so here are March and April too

I began the year with the intention of writing a monthly summary of our lives. January worked out quite well, but then I forgot. All. about. it.
Until just now.
Here's a summary:
February.
Cat came - and left again. Back from New Zealand for a short visit and a good friend's wedding. (She managed to find a stunning dress and accessories to go with it for just a few pounds. Beautiful.) Wonderful to see her, sad when she left. What more can you say about a beloved daughter without descending into maudlin sentimentality?
We had a day's training as CAP (Christians Against Poverty) money coaches. An amazing tool for helping those struggling with finances - and assisting others to become better stewards of the financial resources they have been given.
Half term. A welcome break from a very busy time. Lots of fun with and for the children, though. Otherwise, life is full with church and house groups and friends.
And fog.
And return to work for Richard, after 8 months sick leave. Praise God all the retraining and getting used to the flying schedule went well.
March
So, just a few weeks back onto full time rostering and Richard had an engine failure. Interesting. Too interesting. Suffice to say that all ended well.
Otherwise, school was busy. Lots of little pleasures. A delightful class makes teaching even more fun than usual, as we celebrated little triumphs: winning competitions, performing music and poetry, acting...and our yearly fundraising challenge, using talents to multiply £1.  And then, as the end of term neared, teaching about the real meaning of Easter is always a joy. I love the children's openness and questions, and the discussion this generates. I love how it inspires my own faith. Those eight little words need to be a book.
April
School holidays, and catch up with friends from near and far. Jonny came to stay for half the holidays - with Adele. Looking back, I realise April was a really happy month.

Wednesday 25 April 2012

Island life

April 'showers' have been April downpours and gales.
Force 7 today.
I didn't cycle to school.
I didn't take the dog for a long walk. - just a short, let's-get-out-and-back-quickly one.
I didn't decide to stroll along the Castle breakwater to watch the fishermen.
This is why...

(Photo taken by George)

Saturday 31 March 2012

Too much excitement...

Phew - life has been rather 'interesting' - read 'ever so slightly challenging but it's all right really' - recently.

Fog has provided those flying locally with the usual provocations: delayed landings, delayed take-offs, late arrivals, or no flying at all. Pilots and planes stuck in various parts of the Bailiwick, not necessarily together, as long waits eventually mean that a pilot cannot stay on duty any longer.
But fog is usual at this time of year - local residents understand it and are, for the most part, incredibly patient and tolerant of extended stays at the airport.

On Sunday, Richard had a 'foggy' day but managed to avoid getting stuck in Jersey. Monday dawned bright and clear. Tuesday was beautiful. Then this happened as Richard was flying from Alderney to Southampton.  Engine failure.
The Trislander has three engines: the problem one was the rear engine, mounted high up on the tail. After a loud bang, Richard looked in the rearview mirror (mounted on the Trislander for this purpose, NOT so that he can see if another plane is coming up behind him in the fast lane) and saw the cowling had come loose and was wide open, like a giant clam shell.  (This had the effect of acting like a giant brake!)  Richard immediately turned the plane round and returned to Alderney, where an emergency had been declared: the fire brigade had initiated their full emergency procedure, the ambulance was waiting on the tarmac and the Alderney lifeboat was put on alert in case the plane had to ditch in the open sea.  In the end, there was nothing at all for them to do: Richard greeted the crews with "Good practice for you guys," after he had landed the plane safely. No panic and no injuries, apart from a Trislander which now looks rather sorry for itself.

I'm intensely proud of my highly competent, capable husband who, to quote Aurigny's managing director, dealt with the situation in an 'exemplary fashion', so I shall quote from the Alderney Press: 'The pilot was wonderful - extremely calm and he just told us that there was a technical problem and we would be returning to Alderney. All passengers were very calm, there was no panic at all....The pilot was fantastic - the fact that he was so calm and in control made me feel that everything would be all right."

And I liked the comments from readers on the Guernsey Press website:
"Probably a piece of coal flew out of the furnace and hit the cowling...He had two other engines, what was the problem?"  Indeed!

I was just glad that he came to school and hauled me out of a meeting to tell me about it. Seeing him there in front of me was extremely reassuring...

After that, the other minor vexations aren't worth mentioning, apart from one. Pickle the Dog's predilection for removing the Christmas cards on display (yes, I know, but that's another story) and then eating the blu-tac which held them up is just a tad annoying...

Saturday 10 March 2012

Oh dear...but life goes on.

Lots of good news...Pickle chewed the microphone cable in two. Yes, it's good news. It didn't do any harm (apart from rendering the microphone unusable and so we can't talk on Skype until we have a new one). She could have chewed on the high voltage heating cable lying next to it.

A healthy family, busy doing rewarding jobs - including Richard, back flying after nearly 8 months.

Entertaining weather. THICK THICK fog - literally, pea soup; bright warm sunshine, picnic weather; torrential rain of tropical proportions, roads and paths becoming rivers and streams.
Entertaining.

But...Pickle does get herself in a pickle.

The last couple of weeks has seen:
4 shoes - aka 2 pairs - chewed.
Countless tennis balls ripped down to baldness.
1 pot hyacinth bulbs dug up.
1 garden 'lost' in - as in 'What? You're calling me? I can't have heard you...'
Hmmm....
Wish I could train her as well as this Jack Russell...
 However, she does have very exciting playdates with Howie the Boston Terrier...



Tuesday 14 February 2012

Valentine's Day

Valentine's Day. Not a day I normally celebrate. I didn't grow up with it and, during my many years living in Kenya, didn't experience the commercial reminders. 
Generally, it passed me by apart from one memorable year when I was at college. I received a wonderful, intriguing, poetic Valentine in the morning post. I was mildly flattered and mildly curious until I arrived at my first lecture. My best friend Sue had received an identical card with a slightly different poetic message. Obviously from the same person - first problem. Sue was married - second, major problem. Her husband had been rather upset, giving her the silent treatment. Although Sue was relieved to find that her card was evidently a joke, nevertheless she was desperate to find out who had sent it. I was so desperate for her I don't even remember if I was disappointed that my card wasn't 'for real'.
We spent the day asking EVERYONE who knew both of us if they had sent it, to the obvious amusement of our lecturers. (Yes, we were young. And giddy.)
At the end of the day, Sue trailed home apprehensively. She and her husband divorced a few years later.
(Not because of the Valentine's card, though. Sue eventually discovered, after meeting two other friends  - one a neighbour, one from her husband's course - that they had also received identical cards. Her husband had sent them - having only managed not to explode with amusement at her consternation by keeping silent.)
This year, as I catch up reading some wonderful blogs over the half term holiday from school, I find Valentine's Day messages everywhere.
I liked this one: a reminder that many men are not at all naturally romantic. I like that she reminds us it's not about us and how romantic our husband/boyfriend should be towards us when she says: "There are no exceptions in the Bible where it says on Birthdays, Mother's Day and Valentine's Day we have permission to be selfish and self-centered."  
We don't need to believe what the media tells us. Most men just don’t have ‘romantic’ bones. Their flashes of romantic inspiration are few and far between. My husband veers from absolutely no romantic gestures at all to, every few years, doing something ‘over the top’.  Never on Valentine's Day, but on our wedding anniversary. 
The most memorable - the one that still takes my breath away when I remember it - was when we were living in Kenya while the children were young. We had been married twelve years. He had given up his flying career to work voluntarily in an orphanage and I was teaching. So not a lot of money going into our bank account every month.  Somehow - I'm still not sure whether this was already arranged or if he managed to engineer it - our children were invited to two separate sleepovers for the weekend. As they went off,  I had my weekend planned in my mind but was happy to drive with him to our local airport while he 'checked up' on something. It wasn't until he drew up outside the air charter hangar that I began to suspect something. He had chartered a small plane to fly us down to an exclusive lodge in Amboseli game reserve, in the foothills of Mount Kilimanjaro.  He had even packed a weekend bag for me with everything - including my prettiest dress - that I might need. I was almost too shocked at the extravagance to enjoy myself. 
Before that, it had taken me a long time to accept that he just didn’t ‘do’ bunches of flowers, sweet sentiments or even chocolate!! These things - whether small gestures or hugely extravagant gifts - are sweet, but ultimately don't matter. What really matters is not a once or twice a year fuss, but daily kindnesses and tiny acts of appreciation: the thanks for a meal, or an errand run. A gentle back rub, a touch on the arm. A meaningful kiss. A smile into eyes.
I'm thinking of a sweet friend of mine who is struggling with this whole romance thing - she longs for it, her boyfriend doesn't 'do' romance in the same way.  They are good friends, but the relationship has been a little bit 'on off'.  
I’m probably the last person to talk to regarding an ongoing relationship like this as my husband and I just met each other, deciding almost instantly that this was 'the one' and then got on with it! (I'm talking days, maybe weeks, here.) His excuse is that, as a pilot, he is used to very quick decision making. Mine is that I was SOOO old – nearly 30, and the spinster teacher of the family – that I would have said yes to anyone. That's my cover story, not the truth, of course.
Instant attraction. Romantic to the extreme. But then I think of Little Women, by Louisa May Alcott. It always struck me that the marriage of Amy and Laurie seemed relatively passionless (they agreed that they ‘pulled together well’ when they were out rowing on a lake, as far as I remember!) but it was a happy and lasting marriage. And I think that a lot of good marriages certainly end up like that – pulling well together –  however they begin.
As long as they have Valentine's Day sentiments 365 days a year.
Look here for a cute story of how one couple met...