Thursday 26 December 2013

Pollards seasonal review for 2013

I love writing a yearly letter to friends near and far. Not just for the opportunity to reconnect with dear friends, reflecting on the privilege of having so many scattered around the world as a result of their - and our - frequent moves; but also for the opportunity to look back on a busy time full of blessings...It's fun to have a theme, too.  Last year it was films; this year, the seasons...

Winter. After a wonderful family time together, Cat returned to summer in New Zealand and her work at Christians Against Poverty. Jonny went back to Norwich, with Adele, who visited after Christmas. Guernsey saw more snow than it had in decades. Accompanied by gales and airport closure, the snow brought down 5 trees in our garden. Firewood for a few years...
Spring. A breath of fresh air brought reunions – both planned and completely unexpected. Family: and many friends from recent and distant past. Richard was grounded from flying for medical reasons. He has been holding the fort very efficiently since then.
Summer. Sunny conditions all round. Adele’s parents, Phil and Judy, came to stay. Adele and Jonny got engaged! We journeyed to Middle Earth to see Cat and also went to Sydney to meet up with dear friends...only 20 years or so since we had last met. Read the blog for all the detail!
Autumn. Jonny started a PGCE course to become a primary teacher. An Indian summer brought Byron and Lisa from Africa: 28 years of friendship.
Seasons of change. We have hope in our hearts and our eyes on the future. We look to JESUS, the reason for THIS season. Happy Christmas!


















Tuesday 24 December 2013

Lovely nativities...

I just love the 'made with and by children' nativity films from St Paul's Anglican church in Auckland. St Paul's make these films 'based on a true story'.

This is the latest:
 

and here is another:


Find them all here.

Christmas. Unexpected.

It is the 24th December.
Out last-minute Christmas shopping,which sounds stressy, but wasn't.
On my return, I found THIS on my doorstep.


No card. No name. No one to thank. 
Completely anonymous. Completely unexpected. Completely wonderful.
So delightful. I can't stop smiling for the joy.

Friday 20 December 2013

Imagining Christmas...

Sharing this wonderful post below from A Deeper Story: "Jesus doesn't fix anything."

"in a manger
still and obscure
hidden beneath a star shone bright
swaddled in ancient words and found by foreign men
bruised heal before lungs even drew
a quiet night diseasing evil forever

after all, bruised beats broken
and that’s what the angels were singing
to shepherds, to wise, to whored and to falsely whole
    
we swallow brokenness like the drugs keeping us afloat
    our heads nod in restlessness and the receiving
    our hearts return us to the well to see the seer

and so this is Christmas
all white in the absence of snow
our hearts pushed in, and we know
the bruises beat the broken

holy night, hushed and aglow
promise’s arrival to a heavy handed world
time a refugee in the camp Grace swallowed
the Virgin knows what mothers do not:
how to hold the King of Angels
O, come let us adore him, Christ, the Lord

Christmas comes earlier once again.  Sales announce the season and joy fills our hearts.  It seems as though more of Christmas is lost in commercialism each year.  The story, faded into well balanced nativity sets sold for shelves and lawns grows more native in an adapted knowing that Christ came so we spread good will and cheer.
But look at the night.  Jesus doesn’t fix anything.  In fact, things get worse; a lot worse.  The king of the moment feels threatened at the report of foreign wise men arrived to see the foretold promise under a star.  So the king commands all babies under the age of two be found and murdered.  The people of the foretold promise bleeding again under the tyrannical rule of other men.  I’d say things worsened.
We’ve heard the story book-ended by Christmas and Easter unfold – the child grew.  The story builds anticipation as some realize the Promise arrived in a manger, grew into a man, touched people like God.  He gathered the bruised and buried the broken.  And then the story reaches climax with his public, gory death – worsened once again.  A strong shift of circumstance happens in Jesus’ resurrection, and then, a sort of to be continued hangs as those closest to him watch him ascend into the heavens.
And here we are.  Holders of the promise awaiting God’s glorious arrival, as a people once did.  So much of our world is broken; our very lives broken, too.
What if Jesus comes hushed again, undetected in our world obsessed with its own healing, demanding all must be whole before all can be all right?
Jesus doesn’t fix anything.  He comes.
Into the worst conditions, among a family gone amok, through the unchangeable circumstance of death and all the more that can go wrong, Jesus comes right into the middle where you are and abides.
And so, this is Christmas, this is Advent, this is promise and this is Jesus.  O, come let us adore him and belong to a Savior come and not a known cure."

Sunday 1 December 2013

Only in Guernsey

I won’t mock our local paper. It does an admirable job, particularly when it relies on the news from a population of only 60,000 and is produced every day except for Sunday. The Saturday edition even has a pull-out supplement. Likewise, local radio stations keep us well up to date with what is happening. So, a little snapshot of recent news. A story of triumph and tragedy from Alderney, the northernmost of the Channel Islands and only 7 miles from France. With a population of 2000 and an area of 3 square miles, it is known for its status as a former German prisoner-of-war camp and, more recently, a small airport which offers ‘interesting’ landings. Not the easiest of destinations for the Trislander pilots flying for the local airline Aurigny. (Yes, we have a local airline as well as a paper and radio station. And various other ‘local’ institutions too.)

The story was of a wild boar, dubbed the ‘ghost pig’ as it was only glimpsed at dusk, which had mysteriously appeared on the island. It was first seen visiting a pig farm and became something of a celebrity as it was conjectured that it must have swum the rough seas from Normandy, where wild boar are common. Sadly, it was not long before it disappeared: it had, apparently, been shot by someone concerned that it might be carrying disease. I wonder, though. How do we know for sure that this is what happened? Pork roast dinner, anyone?

Following on from this sad story was one which was a prominent feature of a radio news bulletin. SOMEONE – and, it was openly stated, someone from off island because it couldn’t possibly have been someone local – SOMEONE had been stealing the bronze caps off the pipes which enable the domestic cess pits to be emptied. The ‘poo trucks’ – a.k.a. The States of Guernsey Sewage Services lorries – whizz round the island in the early hours of the day, unscrewing the caps, connecting hoses and emptying said cess pits for the benefit and convenience of householders. The theft was so alarming that the radio interviewed a representative from the Guernsey Border Agency to find out whether they had discovered the stolen property illegally being smuggled off the island...

Of course, there is so much other news as well. Last year, several of the garden gnomes who live happily on a rocky outcrop in the north of the island were kidnapped. Rumours abounded that the Environment Department were responsible as the gnomes were considered to be an eyesore by some residents. Surely the Housing Department should also have been involved as the gnomes were, technically, squatters and did not have housing licences. However, such was the outcry that they were, happily, returned – by the police, who thought they had been stolen from neighbouring gardens...

A few years ago Santa crash-landed in a pond and got himself into all kinds of trouble with local government. Not least, for making an unscheduled landing.



Fortunately, this didn’t put him off visiting Guernsey and he arrived yesterday, by lifeboat, to turn on the Christmas lights in town. There is no end to the work that poor man has...he’s coming back on Friday, by fire engine, to turn lights on in the north of the island...

Can't wait for the next news item of interest.

Sunday 17 November 2013

Gunpowder Tea

What fun! Miranda Hunt is a woman detective in the late 1890s who sets off, undercover, to Arizona, under pretext of being an heiress. Her talents have been recognized by the Pinkerton Detective Agency and she is keen to prove herself by uncovering the identity of The Phantom, a notorious robber. Arriving at the Last Chance Ranch, Miranda finds numerous suspects, one of whom she is strongly attracted to. She is, however, determined that nothing – not even romance – will interfere with her mission to apprehend the Phantom. I found myself becoming as bewildered as Miranda as she sought to discover who was friend or foe – including another undercover agent working for the rival company, Wells Fargo. Margaret Brownlee throws the delights of a small community, intriguing characters and a young woman’s desire to follow God’s will for her life into the mix. The plot is enough to keep up the reader’s interest, while not too complex for enjoyment. BookSneeze® provided me with a complimentary copy of this book. Although I enjoyed it, it was a very light read: I would probably not have bought a hard copy to keep and reread. Nevertheless, I would definitely read more books by Margaret Brownley. Good for those ‘switching off’ moments – pure escapism! I review for BookSneeze®

Monday 4 November 2013

Dear Mr Knightley - a book review. For fans of Jane Austen, the Bronte sisters...and Jean Webster

When I read that  Dear Mr Knightley by Katherine Reay (coming out tomorrow November 5th!)  was available on Booksneeze, I absolutely had to read it. Instantly.  Advertised as a modern Daddy-Long-Legs by JeanWebster, with a heroine who hides her true self behind Jane Austen quotes, what wasn’t to like? Almost every girl loves Jane Austen, while Daddy-Long-Legs is just about my favourite novel ever. I reread it, following the development and adventures of the heroine Judy Abbott, every few years, along with Dodie Smith’s  I Capture the Castle.

However, my high hopes initially disappointed me. The setting: Chicago, around a young people’s residential unit for children who had missed out on fostering, was recognizable as Judy Abbott’s  orphanage but the context was too modern for me. Sam, our heroine, had far more issues than Judy and I didn’t identify with her.  Still, I ploughed on and found myself becoming absorbed by the story. The plot and equivalent characters with Daddy-Long-Legs were fairly easily identifiable and I enjoyed seeing how Sam, with determination, persistence and loving encouragement, began to turn her life around. Her predilection for speaking in romantic literary quotations, chiefly from Austen and Bronte, was quirky and fun. I found myself trying to place the quotes before the characters were able to do so.

As the story progressed, I became anxious.  Sam’s letters to her anonymous benefactor (Mr. Knightley) parallel Judy’s letters to her college sponsor.  As I read, I wondered if Sam’s story would have the same equivalent charming, happy ending. Judy falls in love with a wealthy, successful man before she discovers he is, in fact, her anonymous benefactor.  Sam develops a close relationship with Alex, a highly successful writer. Yet she also has a steady boyfriend with a good job and lavish lifestyle. Both relationships have ups and downs which she shares with ‘Mr Knightley’.  More importantly, Sam works through her issues, overcoming past hurts and damaging experiences. The story might draw on an older novel, but would this modern retelling end in a similar fashion?

Well, I won’t spoil it. Suffice to say that the ending is suitably happy. Sam achieves success: in her career, in her relationships, and in becoming a whole, healed, happy person. And, as Jane Eyre would say: “Reader, I married him.” What more could the reader of romantic fiction want? 

This was a free copy from Booksneeze, but I would have bought it.
I review for BookSneeze®


Saturday 2 November 2013

A Bride For All Seasons: comfort reading for cosy nights (and lazy summer days) - a book review for Booksneeze

When I started to read ‘A Bride for All Seasons’ I hadn’t realised that it was, in fact, four linked novellas by four authors: Margaret Brownley, Debra Clopton, Robin Lee Hatcher and Mary Connealy. Once I realised how talented these women are, then the book just had to be a winner, and it did not disappoint.

Each novella has its own distinct flavour, yet a common thread weaving through all: a girl  who arrives in a remote Western location to marry a stranger; a husband to be who suffers from a misunderstanding; an interfering matchmaking agency which causes the misunderstanding in the first place; and a happy (although, at first, unlikely) ending.  Strong, determined, feisty, loyal,  feminine women and men who are faced with having to change from their own set ways and expectations.

And Then Came Spring tells of a husband with preconceived ideas and a bride who relies on ‘luck’ before she realises that it is God who holds her future in His hands.  An Ever After Summer tells of a bride, who has only ever dreamed of a different life, the chance to actually change things. And, again, a husband who finds that discarding his prejudices can actually bring him happiness. Autumn’s Angel again shows how difficult circumstances can be overcome for the better while  Winter Wedding Bells again demonstrates how a marriage of convenience can change into a match made in heaven.

Love, loyalty, commitment; sacrifice and reward; overcoming hardship and winning happiness. Eternal themes running through never fail to satisfy the reader who is looking for a comforting read with a sweet taste.


The book comes with a useful study guide for a reading group and an added bonus was to read a behind the scenes interview with the authors: such fun!  How I would have loved to be a fly on the wall – it sounded as if they all had a blast! In future, I’ll pursue this combination of talented writers while devouring their individual creations.

I reviewed a free copy for Booksneeze: the books on offer are usually very well worth reading.  This was quite a lightweight read - good escapism!

I review for BookSneeze®

Thursday 24 October 2013

Air New Zealand

Love these flight safety briefings...The Hobbit!

....an epic journey

...Bear Grylls...

...the nude safety briefing - attendants in body paint resembling uniform...

...safety in Paradise...

...and Betty White:



Wednesday 25 September 2013

In praise of Richard

Back just over three weeks now, which has passed in a blur: twelve hours after arriving, I was back in school for the start of a new term. A new class. And a new year group. And a new curriculum. And a new form of planning. And... well, let's just say it's the usual start of the school year madness.

I work every night and weekend. Not all the time, but a lot. My brain is brimming over with 'oughts' and 'musts' and 'could do betters'...

Life isn't so hectic for Richard - but that's a different story. Instead, it has dawned on me just how much he has done lately.

Shopping done.
Washing done, hung up to dry and then put away.
Dog walked. Frequently.
Gardening kept on top of.
Errands run, which I didn't get time to do myself.
Supper cooked, delicious smells greeting me as I walked in the door.
And a cup of tea made for a weary wife...

So much love and kindness.

Wednesday 4 September 2013

"Sweet as"

What the traffic cop said to Cat.
"World famous.........in New Zealand!"


Sunday 1 September 2013

New Zealand: final reflections.

Interesting observations:
  • Random strangers are incredibly helpful - even without being asked. As Richard was buying tickets at the train station, a young man approached him. 'Sir,' he said, 'if you buy an AT card (a season ticket) it's much cheaper.'
  • Looking for a rubbish bin, a young man noticed and pointed it out.
  • The ticket clerk was concerned about the tourists buying tickets to Otahuhu, where the CAP office is. She tried to suggest that we go elsewhere! Indeed, first impressions of the container depot and industrial area proved her point.
  • Cafe baristas, shop assistants, passport officials - so friendly and laid back.
But that's New Zealand for you. Information boards in airport departures don't say 'Wait in lounge' but, instead, 'Relax'.

So we are.

Auckland and up and away...

The last day. Oops.

Church in the morning was the opening of a CAP centre. Hillsong type worship and a presentation by Cat's boss about the work of Christians Against Poverty. Inspiring stories.

After, we drove out to Muriwai wildlife area. Endless beach. Massive waves. Strong currents.




And, at Maori beach, a gannet colony. Awesome birds. It was the beginning of the breeding season, so really interesting watching the birds display to each other.




Then back to Auckland and the beginning of a long journey home - and away from Cat...

Saturday 31 August 2013

Out and about in Auckland

Auckland is the City of Sails, sitting around harbours, lagoons, rivers and creeks.

The choice of outings was bewildering, but in the end we settled on a harbour cruise. Waitemata, the harbour's name, means 'sparkling water' - absolutely! We were blessed with a bright sunny day.

We toured every wharf, jetty and marina in Auckland Central, amid a forest of moored sailing boats, before dodging in and out of a fast-moving regatta.




Then we headed out past the historic Bean Rock lighthouse. How anyone could live for years in the tiny wooden shack perched on top of a delicate metal structure is one of life's great mysteries. Well, perhaps not, but still a marvel.

Then an altogether far too brief stop on volcanic Rangitoto island, boasting the largest Pohutukawa - New Zealand's flaming red 'Christmas tree' - forest in the world. World famous. In New Zealand anyway.






Then past historic Devonport and the naval base to the iconic harbour bridge - just in time to see someone bungee jump off it.




Then back - and supper in a restaurant at the beach in St Heliers  - beginning to think about heading for home: just a few thousand miles...



Friday 30 August 2013


An early start on a sunny morning took us to catch a train to the city centre. We walked past the neo-Gothic Anglican cathedral and city hall, through a beautifully restored high class Victorian shopping arcade to the glass shrine that is the Apple computer store.


We didn't join in with other worshippers but continued on with an ever-increasing sense of history to Circular Quay.



Ferries across the harbour and a couple of aboriginal street artists waited for us, but we hurried on to the Opera House. Groups of school children trailed up the steps, clutching an assortment of musical instruments. What an experience for these young performers.





Nothing had prepared us for the beauty of this lovely city. Sparkling water, tree-lined bays, wide streets, elegant skyscrapers, the shell-like curves of the Opera House and, above it all, the harbour bridge.

A ferry took us across the harbour to Watson's Bay for lunch. No ordinary fish and chips: grilled barramundi with chilli plum sauce. Then a stroll along past the beaches and coves and more history to a lighthouse on a headland.








And all the time, talking and catching up. What a joy to meet up with Elissa again, a lovely little girl having become a poised, wonderful young mother. And so many happy memories of the times our families had together.

The evening brought Max and Hanna. Laughter and reminiscing until our faces ached. We went home with them...

...to yet another day of exploring Australia's treasures. The Three Sisters and the Blue Mountains. A male lyre bird, resembling nothing as much as a black pheasant, strutted across the path but what struck us most was the incredible bird song.






And coffee and cake and more and more jokes and laughter. Such dear, dear friends - when we left, I could not hold back the tears. Such friendship is a rare gift - but the pain of separation is now inextricably bound up with the joy.

Before that, though, we managed yet another happy reunion: Lucy, honorary Guernsey girl and erstwhile dog-sitter. Great to see her well settled in her marriage and a promising career as a baker. Love that girl.





We went with her and Hanna to visit the oldest church in Australia at Ebenezer: this far the Lord has brought us. The little church, surrounded by graceful eucalyptus, nestled on a promontory in the great Hawkesbury River. The temperature was in the mid-twenties, the sun gentle on our backs. Peewits and willy wagtails strutted on the thick grass, parakeets fluttered above us. It felt like being back in Kenya.

And so, we left Sydney. Wish it wasn't so far away...