Mama's

A welcome update

2012-01-20T07:29:00.000Z

The year ended as we waited on news about Richard's flying licence. A decision had been made by the CAA, but we had to wait several more weeks before we found out what it was.
The letter came this week. 'Fit for Class 1 medical.'
Class 1 medical was passed yesterday.
'Fit for flying'! Woo hoo - now back to work!
And as Richard said:
"Yet those who wait for the LORD
Will gain new strength;
They will mount up with wings like eagles,
They will run and not get tired,
They will walk and not become weary......"
I have got my medical back!

Pollards' end of year report...

2011-12-24T21:19:00.000Z

Couldn't find everyone's email addresses this year...so have put our news summary here as well. The aim was conciseness and brevity!

Pollards’report card: or, What We Learnt in 2011

English: Speakingand Listening: all of us are very well practised in this area, especially as wehave been blessed with (what seems like) millions of visitors over the year.Writing: just Angie, really. Writesemails. Blogs at http://www.mamampira.blogspot.com . Cat alsoblogs occasionally at www.catatcap.blogspot.com ; Jonnytweets. Richard just reads.(see ICTcomment).

Maths: somehead-scratching over diminished salaries, but God has kept us worry-free andfinancially afloat. (see History comment. And RE comment.)

Science: We have hadample opportunity to study wildlife this year.Countless ducks andrabbits took up residence in the garden, allowing for close observation. Then,in September, Pickle (aka TheBeast, a 4kg black bundle of Jack-Russell-based mischief) arrived and startedher own unscientific study of the available fauna. Richard has taken upinternet study of scientific research papers dealing with nutrition, withbeneficial results. (See History comment).

ICT: We arethankful for computers and communication, enjoying the blessings of finding outinformation and communicating with friends. Among various other bits ofknowledge, the Internet has been invaluable for helping Richard discover hisintolerance of wheat. (see History comment)

RE: Despite health difficulties (see History comment),we have learnt that patience, goodness and kindness are worth far more than asalary. We are also happy to say that, by the grace of God, we wereable to support and love one another with more virtues than we knew wepossessed. And with more than a little help from our friends at church.

PE: surfing andkayaking are stillour main sporting pursuits. Achievement: J excellent, R good, C quite good, Adoesn’t even try particularly hard. Still, she’s good at cycling to work–UPHILL – most days. The rest of the family cycle too – except for Pickle. Legsdon’t reach the pedals.

History: afterstruggling with chronic illness for some time, Richard lost his medical licencein July, with consequent suspension from flying duties for this reason.Hopefully, normal service will be restored in the New Year as tests are nowclear.

Geography: seeLanguages comment. R and A have also studied the Guernsey coastline inunnecessary detail. J still exploring the East Anglian fens and C has made itas far as Auckland, New Zealand. Yes, she IS coming back. Soonerrather than later, we hope. (see general comment below)

Art: Jonny isstill amazing at drawing. Angie makes cards. Cat’s creations tend to bemostly culinary. Note: we skipped thePhotography module this year: the photos on this page are the only onesavailable. We WERE altogether as a family occasionally, honestly. Just didn’trecord it.

ModernForeign Languages: Well, French. In France, at Spring Harvest –confusingly, in August, not spring. And Spanish. In Lanzarote. In spring. Angienearly learnt Gaelic in Ireland, too.

DesignTechnology, aka cooking. Glad to say we have all improved – except Angie, whoseskills seem to have deteriorated. Blame it on teaching.

Drama: none,thankfully.

General: Cat isstill working for ChristiansAgainst Poverty, but in New Zealand. Small office, big challenges,huge experience. Jonny is a learning mentor in an agricultural college inNorwich. Fun. He has bags more patience than his teacher mother. Angieprogressed to teaching girls aswell as boys this year – that is fun, too. And Richard will, hopefully, be backin the cockpit, wrestling with the weather, quite soon.

We hope that 2012 brings you much goodness and manyblessings, with our love from Richard and Angie, Cat and Jonny. “As for me and my house, we will serve theLord.”

Pickle's capers

2011-12-07T17:15:00.001Z

Just when I thought there was no more new news about Pickle and her pursuit of pleasure - this happened:

A crab claw. Yes, it really is much bigger than her head...

She found it on the beach. Carried it home. Traffic stopped. Strangers smiled. So did we.

Then this:

(The answer to 'How DID she get caught in the wood basket' is that she was trying to grab the last little log hiding at the bottom...the log escaped, this time.)

Then this: toy no.3 on its way to annihilation...

...replaced by toy no.4. Which proved a match for her.

Added to all these antics is her earnest desire to learn computer skills... she watches the movement of the mouse quite avidly and then tries typing on the keyboard...

On creativity...busyness...and gratitude...

2011-11-18T18:49:00.001Z

Phew - what a fortnight! Busy busy stress stress...no, not really. Just busy. We talk about 'stress' but actually we make mountains out of molehills. 'Stress' is not knowing where your next meal is coming from, or where you will sleep tonight. My 'stress' is definitely just 'busy'.

Busy with...
days of teaching, marking, preparation...dealing with lessons, children, upcoming events of class assemblies, charity days and prayerspace events. I am constantly amazed at the number of interactions I have every day with children, parents, staff: it would certainly be less tiring were I to be holed up in an office with account books and computer, but certainly much more boring. So I'm not complaining.

Busy with...
evenings of house group meetings, meals with friends, parents meetings, staff meetings; marking of exams, writing reports (must be around 8000 words in two weeks)...

Busy with...
weekends of prayer - training and action; flujab; cleaning carpets; sorting out books to give away; shopping; ladies breakfast; puppy play dates; church.

Busy with...
nights of sleeplessness, as my brain churns; nights of sitting up with a tickly cough;

Busy with...
doctor's appointment; praying with friends.

Busy.

So after this, I came home on time from school this day, this end-of-the-week-tired-out-on-Friday day and, in the couple of hours free before I have to go out again, made...apple curd. Sweet, spicy, delicious. The little pots sit invitingly next to the cooker. I have labelled them 'Eat Me'.

I will.

I'm thankful for the opportunity, the energy, the delight in being in this small way creative. And for being able to blog again.

And lovely to join in with Faith Barista's Jam-With-Me-Thursdays...even if I am a couple of days late...

Pickle begins to grow up...?

2011-11-05T07:28:00.000Z

Changes, as with most things in life, happen imperceptibly. So it was with some astonishment that we noticed the following developments in our little Pickle recently.
1. She has lost her puppy teeth! Those razor sharp little nippers have been replaced by proper Big Dog teeth. She still mouths us, but with, generally, less effect. Where did those baby teeth go? Judging by the amount of gnawing and chewing going on, I would have expected to find at least one or two scattered around the house.
2. She has filled out, becoming less weasel-like and chunkier. She feels heavier, more solid, more.... more....more... DOG-like. Puppy fat never came into the question with this slim little lady - more like puppy thinness. Anyway, she looks - and feels - much more like a Real Dog now. The nickname 'Weasel' is no longer quite so appropriate, though Jonny will probably still be calling her that the next time he comes home.
3. Her coat is no longer puppy-smooth and soft, but thicker, more rough-haired. The whiskers are still pronounced but now there are ruffles appearing on her back -which sound more fashionable than they look.
4. She seems 'taller' when she stretches up on her hind legs. Stop right there, Pickle - we don't need you any bigger than this.
5. Puppy chewing has turned into adolescent destruction. All her soft toys have now been completely disembowelled. The ferocity and dedication with which she has done this has been quite alarming - teenage angst and determination. (I don't want to use the S word - as in stubborn.)
6. She now has her first (boy) friend. Howie, a Boston Terrier who is just a month older, comes round to play regularly. After an inauspicious start (Pickle's response to a canine intruder on 'her' turf was to try to take him out) the two now enjoy each other's company. 'Play' consists of non-stop wrestling in one black and white messy ball of fur, teeth and paws, interspersed with brief panting rests and top-speed chases round the garden. They keep this up for HOURS.

Some things, however, don't change.
She is still incredibly feisty, especially in the mornings. Dancing for attention, racing around the garden, trying to nip - the vinegar-and-water spray is so effective in deterring her from doing this that we only have to glance meaningfully at the bottle.
She still sits very nicely on command.
She still objects to the 'halti' which encourages her to walk properly.
She is still intrigued by new things and is still afraid of sudden noises.
She is still beautifully calm and soft in the evenings, being quite happy to curl up companionably next to us.
Still delightful.

Pickle is a pickle

2011-10-19T21:09:00.002+01:00

It's been quite hard becoming a puppyparent again. Actually, I'm not sure I've ever been a real puppy parent:most of the dogs I've had have arrived at the ripe age of 8 months or older.Whatever, it's a) time-consuming and b) wearing on the nerves.

I'm sure there are c) d) and e)points as well.

So we've been reading up on puppytraining quite assiduously. Pickle's report card might look like this:

Response to name:

Attainment: A*

Effort: Superb

Pickle enjoys attention and respondsimmediately when her name is called.

Come here!

Attainment: B

Effort: Satisfactory

So far, so good. This command hasnot yet been thoroughly tested in situations of high interest ie in wide openspaces where there are unlimited opportunities for interesting smells.

Digging holes.

Attainment: A

Effort: Excellent

Pickle has demonstrated tremendousenergy in acquiring this skill. She has excelled in creating holes of bothwidth and depth. She now needs to learn where is an appropriate place to dig,as the middle of the lawn is definitely NOT suitable. Willingness to fillin a hole once it has been finished with would also be appreciated.

Jumping up.

Attainment: D

Effort: Sometimes satisfactory

Pickle is being trained in the artof greeting. This should consist of sitting politely in front of the familymember or guest, then waiting to be stroked or hugged. Unfortunately, althoughPickle is able to sit quite beautifully, she has not so far proved herselfwilling to accede to requests to 'sit' in situations where she would ratherleap about in a hysterical manner. We look forward to seeing her developgreater self-control.

Sitting.

Attainment: A*

Effort: Excellent

Pickle's sitting is absolutelyexemplary and is a joy to behold. Well done, Pickle!

Fetch

Attainment: A

Effort: Excellent

Although she does not yet 'give' oncommand, Pickle readily retrieves a ball thrown for her. She is beginning tolearn that releasing the ball to the handler results in further pleasurablegames of 'fetch'.

Phew.

Better a little dust in the corners...

2011-10-09T17:53:00.000+01:00

I''ve always enjoyed the email which makes the rounds, the one I call the 'thankfulness' email. Reminding me of how 'annoyances' are actually blessings: when the lawn needs cutting, I can be thankful I have a garden to enjoy; when laundry needs doing, I have a family; when a house needs cleaning, I can be thankful that I have a home to live in.
So Holley's post Grace for where you are today taps right into that: the unmade beds, dirty dishes and piles of laundry are all evidence that 'people live here'. From the number of comments on her post, many readers need to be reminded that people and relationships are, ultimately, more important than clean floors.
We all 'know' this. Yet we get sucked into believing lies that performance (efficiency in housekeeping, or doing our job better than others, or...) and appearance (a beautifully clean and tidy house, or fashionable dress and make-up, or...) matter more.
Many years ago, well before marriage and children, a friend - whose home was, in any case beautiful - laughingly told me the Swedish proverb she lived by: 'Better a little dust in the corners than a clean hell.'
I never forgot that. It made all the difference to someone who LOVES Clean, Neat and Tidy. And so yes, there was the odd moment when I got 'beyond myself' over the dirt and the mess while bringing up my children, but that little saying always popped back into my mind before things got Extremely Ugly. (Though whether my children would agree with me...??!)
So it's good to be reminded. Reminded that, although I still get sucked into this unhelpful mindset, it is people who matter more than things.
Always.

PS Bonnie's post over at Faith Barista chimes in with remembering God's blessings, too. I especially love her last few words:
'Remember God’s benefits.

– Remember God’s goodness.

Travel back in time and remember God’s goodness, Hisfaithfulness.

“Bless the LORD, O mysoul, And forget none of His benefits.” Psalm 103:2'

News from the Pickle front

2011-10-06T05:41:00.000+01:00

It's been quiet on here about Pickle lately.
She hasn't. Been quiet, that is. Except that she does seem to be quietly growing.
I think. She still looks quite tiny to me.
Her days are filled with wondrous things.
Flies are especially fascinating. She found a bluebottle the other day. By the time I noticed, she had the bluebottle gently between her front paws, batting it backwards and forwards or alternately nosing it.
Presumably it died, eventually. I don't know if it was eaten, but it wouldn't surprise me.
Latest obsession is crane flies. She spends hours tracking their progress round the room. Statue still, her eyes never wander.
As for other things - we dissuade her from trying to chew the furniture, or catching at trouser legs for attention as we walk past. She demolishes fir cones on a regular basis.
But learning is going well.
She fetches a ball with alacrity and knows how to 'give' it for another go. (Not that she 'gives' very often - she loves to tease. But she's learning.)
She is beginning to walk nicely on the lead. Usually.
House training - getting there. Slowly.
She still falls in the pond - occasionally. We realise she has done it when she starts tearing round the house, rolling on the sofa, wriggling on the carpet in an effort to dry off quickly. Subtle.
After all that activity, evenings are spent limp and relaxed until bedtime. A scarily quick change of personality from completely feisty to totally chilled.
Or Pickled.

Pickle and the Pollack

2011-09-24T19:36:00.001+01:00

Pickle is a...

2011-09-24T08:18:00.000+01:00

Hem grabber

Ball nabber

Tail chaser
Step racer

Water slurper
Belly burper

Eye roller

Garden holer

Stick chewer
Bone hewer
Plant stealer
Potato peeler

Hand nipper
Rug ripper
Fir-cone gnawer
Toy hauler

Teeth snapper
Little yapper
Shin bruiser
Sofa snoozer

Soft snorer
Persistent pawer

Morning smiler

Heart delighter.

Pickle!

Pickle training?

2011-09-17T18:10:00.001+01:00

Pickle's present

2011-09-16T19:50:00.000+01:00

NO, we are NOT besotted with our new dog. Every post in the recent past might be about her, but that is just because she is the most exciting thing happening at the moment. Honestly.
Receiving a card from my dear friend Ruth which said 'CONGRATULATIONS on your NEW ARRIVAL' and 'Enjoy the precious moments with your new bundle of joy' was just a joke. Or so I thought, until she turned up with a beautifully wrapped present 'for Pickle-Lilla with love from Aunty Ruth and Uncle Graham xxx'. Then I started to wonder if I had, perhaps, chatted about our puppy just a little too often.
On the other hand, Ruth is a wonderfully warm, kind-hearted and empathetic friend who just loves to do good wherever or whenever she can. This was one of those occasions...

The parcel contained a squeaky toy

...so delightful...

bliss.

We hid it at bedtime.

Pickle's progress - some statistics...

2011-09-14T18:47:00.000+01:00

7 chewed fircones
6 plant pots emptied, then batted and bowled around the lawn
5 small succulents left lying soil-less and desolate
4 balls (one old tennis ball, one small football and three still-bouncy tennis balls) played with
3 small puppy-sized meals eaten
2 adults loved to pieces
1 sofa sat on.

Hard to tell what was the most fun...

A busy day...

2011-09-12T18:06:00.000+01:00

Lilla Pickle - who thought an invitation to sit on my lap meant that SHE could type this post - is proving to be a fascinating addition to our hitherto quiet and calm household.
She RARELY sits still.
We had forgotten that a puppy is like a super-active toddler. You can't take your eyes off her for a minute. The garden is well dog-proofed, so she is safe to wander around outside, but the list of attractive Objects For Chewing grows longer by the day. So far, we have had to remove socks (from our feet), rugs from the floor (fringes just beg to be tasted) and washing from clothes airers (far too tempting). A small stool suffered from leg chewing, her soft toy has already been stitched up in the operating theatre and the waste paper basket is living on borrowed time.
She has a special bone we bought her to exercise her sharp little teeth on. She ignores it. We have had to take serious measures to step up the intensity of No Nipping training.
The most popular toy - even better than fir cones - is a small terracotta flower pot. She has growled at it, buried her nose in it, rolled it around and tossed it in the air.

HOURS of entertainment.

And she's still thinking about the pond - she has fallen in 4 times so far. And counting.

It IS very beautiful and fascinating.

Add to all this, several frantic games round the garden at top speed...early night tonight! (For me, that is: Pickle still seems to have LOTS of energy...)
PS I haven't even mentioned noise - an endless source of curiosity. Aeroplanes are interesting, low-flying wood pigeons scary. The noise a radiator makes when you paw it is intriguing; a vacuum cleaner is quite frightening... it won't be long before footsteps and car engines become recognisable...

Puppyness

2011-09-10T18:32:00.000+01:00

Puppydom has arrived! Her given name is Lily...images of white beauty and sweet smells don't seem to go with the black squirming reality which is making her presence felt in our house....

The Swedish word 'Lilla' means little, used as a term of endearment...and she definitely has Jack Russell in her genes - so 'Lilla Pickle' it is.
Pickle for short.
And so the adventures begin...

Hmmm...looks interesting...

...wonder what this is? POND? What's a 'pond'?

Whoops!

Man, that was WET!

Towels are for chewing. NOT drying - what a silly idea!

All done and dusted.

Well and truly pickled now.

Leavings...

2011-09-07T17:19:00.001+01:00

Having lived a slightly nomadic life (compared to many friends and acquaintances on this tiny island, some of whom have barely budged) over the last four decades, 'leaving' has been a large feature in my life.
Although it has often been me doing the leaving, more frequently it has been friends and family moving on.
I never manage 'leaving' very well, but I'm beginning to get the hang of it now. It's taken a while.
So, successful farewells are characterised by busyness. Packing, tying up loose ends, zooming around so there is no time for moping either before, or after.
This time, Jonny left to go back to Norwich, after a long weekend camping with us in France.

Big sky, tall surfer

Cat, Richard, Jonny

Enjoying the ambience in the evening...

Packing up the tent proved to be quite a distraction.

A luxury home from home...

I didn't much like the car journey to the airport, though...
Then, a few days later, Cat left us.
For New Zealand.
So we - she - organised a tea party to say goodbye.

Martyn didn't particularly enjoy tea from a tea CUP...he traded it in for a large mug

Dear Sarah

Dearest Renee

Tea party = chocolate cake. And smiles.

She flew off the next morning.

So we organised a barbecue lunch. 18 of us. Cooking and eating and laughing and talking - not to mention the clearing up afterwards - kept us busy and the tears at bay.

Then we tracked her flight on the internet, watching tiny planes fly across the screen en route to Dubai...and Australia...and further on...

Norman's last hours. Sadness.

2011-08-12T17:27:00.013+01:00

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

2011-08-11T14:32:00.003+01:00

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...

2011-08-07T17:06:00.000+01:00

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!

2011-08-04T08:55:00.002+01:00

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!

The Fish!

2011-07-28T17:39:00.000+01:00

Sometimes I'm too imaginative for my own good. I really mean that.
Take today, for instance. Beautiful weather: sunny, no wind and calm seas. Perfect for kayaking. So off we went, paddling through glassy water out beyond the rocks. It was deeper there, but still calm enough to see WHAT WAS BELOW.
Sea monsters, giant water snakes, hideous creatures of The Deep, barnacle-encrusted skeletons. A dinosaur reared an ugly head just above the waves, fossilized for eternity, a snarl clearly visible on its face. We steered clear as my heart began to beat faster. I cast a nervous glance over my shoulder until it was out of sight...
Unseen fingers clutched fruitlessly at the fishing lure trailing hopefully behind, the line slipping through them with barely a hesitation. Until the rod jerked, struggling against the hands deep below, attempting to drag it - and us - below the surface.
We fought, of course, the rod bending so far I feared it might snap. Slowly, carefully, patiently we reeled the line in, bringing the lure closer and closer to the kayak. We had caught A Fish. (In previous expeditions - in fact, almost in the same place - a fish named Rock put up a tremendous fight. It fought for an hour, pulling the kayak first one way, then the other, until the kayak gave up and left the (fish named) Rock on the seabed where it belonged. But this was a real fish.)
He was indeed a monster. Not quite of Jonah proportions, but with a face of nightmares. And a weight of 4lb 7oz. (That's over 2 kilograms for the metrically inclined.)
Supper.

Sisters' shenanigans

2011-07-23T22:21:00.059+01:00

Off to Ireland - Westport County Mayo - to be with my three 'sisters' from Kenya days. Ann, Cath and Mary. Anna, Katerina, 'Mama Miti' (Tree Mother) and me, 'Nyako' (girl, in the Dholuo language. Wow, we go back 30 years - we all met on a training course in the summer of 1981, before we were all sent out to various parts of Africa. That was also exactly when the apparitions of the Virgin Mary started at Medjugorje in Bosnia, not that that has anything to do with it. I think.

It's always a bit crazy when we meet up.

We laugh and reminisce until the wee hours of the morning - the memories as crazy as the evenings. Quite embarrassing, those recollections sometimes. I won't detail them here, just memories of singing, and clothes, and the 1982 coup in Kenya, and who had a crush on who during the preparation course. Crazy people. Crazy memories. Age has NOTHING to do with it,of course.

It's always a joy to get together, but this time seemed crazier than others.

We started by getting to the airport two hours earlier than we needed to. A fault on the right side, anyway, but lots of extra sitting around.
Then Cath, having checked in online for both journeys, gave in her boarding pass for the return journey by mistake. Fortunately, the airline staff noticed just as we were about to board the plane - or the return would have been very interesting.
Then, when we arrived, I couldn't get out of my seat - an unseen force slammed me back down again when I tried to get up. It was easier when I undid my seat belt.

Of course, there were lots of marvellously joyful things too. As Psalm 103 says: O my soul, bless God. From head to toe, I'll bless his holy name! O my soul, bless God, don't forget a single blessing!
Blessings of sitting together on the plane - despite making separate bookings and online check in, it all worked out.
Blessings of walking down the lane with dogs and children and conversation and talking and laughing and drinking wine and eating to-die-for homemade cake and chocolate and chocolate and jokes and laughter and...oh, blessings and blessings.

We visited a derelict abbey,

walked across a salt marsh on a causeway

and drank Guinness in a pub named after Grania O'Malley, 16th century Irish pirate queen; saw wiggly worms, wriggly sand eels and complacent jellyfish; met a charming boy who lives in a pre-famine cottage; paddled in cold Clew Bay and searched rock pools; and made plans. And plans. And plans.

So we sat on rocks at the waters' edge, watching seals sitting on rocks watching us. Up to 20 of them, though sometimes there are as many as 50.

Mullet leapt on the surface of the water. Rock pipits clustered along the shore, ferreting among the pebbles as sand martins ducked and dived over our heads. The grass was springy under our heads. We searched rock pools for fish and shrimps, finding mainly hermit crabs in periwinkle shells and dozens of stranded jellyfish. Their translucent beauty made for compelling photography.

Later, we wandered across miles of deserted sands. Paddled, and swam. (Well, some of us, braving cold, chills and jellyfish.) Only in Ireland could there be such space and tranquillity.

But then....a sudden attack of headache, sickness, nausea, chills, shivering and chattering of teeth. We bundled Cath up warmly, checked her breathing,lay her down in the car and rushed for home, only stopping for essential supplies of headache tablets, water, milk, mints and ice cream. And for Cath to throw up over a wall into a convenient garden. After a shower and a sleep she was fine. Phew.

And so the days continued...early morning tea at 9am, brunches, afternoon tea and cake, late evening suppers with glasses and glasses of wine - enough, but not too much; strolls through the town, absorbing the creativity that is Ireland - mohair scarves and cable-knit sweaters, ceramic art and intricate jewellery, filmy fashions and ethereal photography...; and talking, talking, talking. Mary left us for an urgent dentist appointment: in Dublin, four hours away by train: we missed her. The evening reunion felt as if a family, stretched and separated by adversity, had come together once more. As comfortable as really, really, really old shoes.

The days ended with sharing music: dancing to Ladysmith Black Mambazo and watching Dolly Parton and Kenny Rogers sing together...

So we've enjoyed drinking tea like old women; sipping cappuchino coffees like the middle-aged professionals we are in other lives; throwing back wine like young bright twenty-somethings; hanging out like teenagers; giggling like little girls. Four friends of the Sisterhood.

Blithe times. Blessings. Bliss.

Tomorrow we leave.

Wildlife...

2011-07-13T21:50:00.000+01:00

Agapanthus...

...lilies...

lobelia

Jonny, we need you!

End of term: some sadness...

2011-07-08T18:59:00.000+01:00

The end of the school year - in some ways, much looked forward to - brings with it some sadness. For ten months, the children and I have worked together. They have matured and developed in astonishing ways. One child this year has made amazing strides - he is almost unrecognizable, a completely different child from the one who arrived in my classroom in September.

Me too. The children teach me, change me - usually, these days, making me MORE patient, though not always. They teach me - about surfing, sport, what's 'cool' and what isn't... they sometimes, even, let me gain a tiny glimpse into the ways their minds work.

So, as today was the last day of the school year, we all said our goodbyes. They will have changed again over the summer, entering the next school year even older and 'wiser'. I will see them...in passing, for the odd lesson or two, but it will not be the same. We will have lost our sense of 'togetherness' that we have had over the year.

And that is healthy. They are not, in any case, 'my' children. They have parents, families who, in their turn, will have to let them go into the world as adults.

As I have already had to do. But that is another story, with its own joys and sadness. Enough for today.

Activity Week!

2011-06-26T09:55:00.019+01:00

Each year, the children spend a week out of school in the summer term. This year, I went with them to an outdoor activity centre...

Day 1
Wake up: 04:00 (for most of us).
Depart: 07:00 (all of us)
Arrive Manchester: 08:31
Arrive RAF Cosford: 10:37
Depart RAF Cosford: 13:31
Arrive Manor Adventure: 14:29 (all times accurately estimated – well, almost – to the nearest minute).
Divided into 9 dormitory rooms (33 ÷ 9 = 3 2/3 boys per room. Hmmm....) and 3 activity groups (11 per group – easier maths)
First activity: 15.30 – 2 groups took part in Survival (don’t ask); 1 group, Archery (hidden talents beginning to emerge)
First meal: 17.25 – cottage pie, chicken or pork. Lots of fruit. And vegetables. Mmm...
First frantic game of Flobberty Floogle (you don’t want to know) 18:01 WITH, SIMULTANEOUSLY...first frantic game of Frisbee.

The chicken...

Second activity: 19:00 Confidence course (scary scary heights and balancing, extremely confidently done); Archery (scary scary arrow shooting); Maze (scary scary underground exploration). RAIN. IN SPADES, STAIR RODS AND TROPICAL MONSOON PROPORTIONS. (I sheltered under a tree with a chicken – of the feathered variety. The children were intrepid.)
Showers and Washing: 20:35
Pyjamas: 20:37
Evening wind up down: 20:59.
BED. AT LAST!

Day 2
Cooked breakfast!
Canoeing, kayaking and all things wet. Billy survived the ‘point of no return’ – in other words, every one else fell in. Including Mr V. (Did he fall or was he pushed? Ask Henry – and Mrs P.) Ed pioneered a new hairstyle: safety helmet featuring tufts of hair poking through the strap holes on top. He looked rather like a faun with a plastic head.

The end of the 'confidence course'...confidence gained!

Rifle shooting: no injuries, a few bull’s eyes but on the whole the target remained an area of relative safety.
Initiative exercises. More training in group work, initiative and working together was PROBABLY necessary before coming on Activity Week. ‘Nuff said.
Abseiling. Fear of heights comprehensively squashed, overcome and defeated. RESULT.
Singing – pop, opera, nursery rhymes and The Barbie Doll Song all featured during various activities today: particularly in the shower.
BED. AT LAST!

Day 3
Cooked breakfast!
We become Enginious scientists with a visit to Enginuity science and engineering museum. Then we go back in time: Victorian time at Blists Hill Victorian Village at Ironbridge. Complete with...Victorian boiled sweets! Victorian fudge! Too much sugar! Amazing engines! All kinds of Victorian clothing and household objects. Victorian funfair!

The grocers...reminiscent of my childhood! (Didn't think I was that old...)

Amazing record for getting through the Underground Maze: 11 seconds, 3 seconds off the course record!
Quotes of the day:
For Rifle Shooting, do we wear any clothes?
During Initiative Exercises: Is this Rifle Shooting? !!??!!
I’m going to find all the sweet shops and go into every one.(At Blists Hill. There is only one sweetshop.)
This is the last shopping opportunity you will have – but life WILL go on.
Injuries to date: 1 slightly grazed arm; 1 old scab removed; 1 grazed leg; 1 cut lip; 1 bitten tongue (self-inflicted); 1 toothache (after visiting the sweet shop – pure coincidence). 1 lost tooth (natural causes, tooth fairy telegraphed); 1 case of mild homesickness; 3 cases of claustrophobia (in the murky maze); 2 attacks of acrophobia (aka fear of heights).
Items ‘lost’: numerous. Items ‘found’: = to items ‘lost’.
Number of children lost: 0!
BED. AT LAST!

Day 4
Cooked breakfast!
Activities: see Day 2
Also Blind Trail, High Ropes, Obstacle Course and Wide Games. Very exciting.
Injuries: 1 accidental nose bleed, 1 encounter of an elbow with a bunkbed.
1 mega game of ‘Sleeping Lions’ – 4 joint winners, all of whom managed to stay completely still for over 15 minutes – then the teachers gave up trying to get them to move.
BED. AT LAST!

Day 5
Cooked breakfast!
Climbing the walls. BMX bike games.
Injuries: 1 slightly grazed little finger.
No one wants to leave. (Sorry, Mum and Dad, this is all too much fun.)
Back safe on Guernsey soil. The adventure of a lifetime...this year, anyway.
BED. AT LAST!

School school school!

2011-06-18T16:39:00.000+01:00

It has been a while since I have posted about school. Really, it has. But I just have to post a little snippet of the numerous little joys that teaching brings me. (And no, I'm nothing like Roald Dahl's Miss Honey. Or even Mr Chips. Nothing at all. Right?)

It has arrived at the time of year when we reach...the end of the year. The time when suddenly the children and I realise that we have worked hard together all year and we really, really like each other. They have all finally clocked on to my (super dry, bordering sarcastic) sense of humour. (One or two got it from Day One. They are the ones I have joked with all year, grinning and giggling quietly to themselves.) The class can do almost anything I ask them to do - mostly. Even putting capital letters and full stops in the right places. Mostly. And so we begin to inspire each other.

Now yes, hopefully I have inspired them much earlier in the school year. I think I have. I've had some amazing creative writing - stories, poems, even newspaper reports - and art work. They've shown tremendous concern and care for each other and those less fortunate than they are.

But this last week has been an unusual joy. It started from a homework assignment which I left up to them to decide. We'd looked at the English Civil War, talked a lot about it and the questions still kept coming several minutes after the last bell of the day. (Yes, I know, timekeeping and all that...but what do you do in the face of enthusiasm? KEEP GOING!) So I suggested that they find out more, presenting their findings a week later - in any form they wanted.

I was stunned by their enthusiasm. They wrote pages of notes and explanations; produced a newspaper page of the 'Stuart Times'; created a 'Wanted' poster for Charles I, listing his various 'crimes' against the crown; created a chess set featuring the different groups of characters in the Civil War; and produced 'Lego' models of a battle, and Charles I's trial and execution.

So, I had to record it. Because I know, come September/October, I will begin to wonder what I am doing, when homework is scrappily done, or not at all, and the children I teach are 'takers' rather than 'givers'. I will look at this, and remember, and look forward to seeing the results of a year of hard work once more. It will happen.

As for this class - in a few weeks they will be gone, moving on to greater things. And I will rejoice with them - in a grieving kind of way.

Happy in the moment...

2011-06-12T12:34:00.002+01:00

Karen Ehman talks about 'Embracing the Now'. About being thankful in whatever circumstances...wonder where I've heard that before? This is MY 'now' that fills my mind in this particular minute:
A computer of my own to use when I want, how I want…
A freshly made cappuchino to drink as quickly – or as slowly – as I want
An email conversation with my sister-in-law that reminds me of the blessings of family.
A breakfast with a sweet friend, which sets me up for a relaxed weekend
A room to prepare for an unknown guest – the friend of a friend – the blessings of a stranger
A house that waits for a dearly loved husband to come home.
A home that longs for the return of the ‘flown-the-nesters’
And a job, done with the strength God gives, full of dear colleagues and eager children.
Just a glimpse of my ‘now’.

Mary de Muth on the purpose, pain and point of suffering

2011-06-05T11:15:00.000+01:00

This should probably be put elsewhere...but my link to Mary de Muth is on this page, so just wanted to link to a great piece she has written on suffering, not living the perfect life, and some thoughts on what it is all about. Just brilliant.

Duck psychology

2011-06-04T18:45:00.003+01:00

Mama duck took off and left a couple of weeks ago. She’d been going away on trips, getting the ducklings used to being alone and more independent. (They weren’t, of course. Still kept begging for bread and annoying the rabbit.) Still, they look like ducks now. Big. Fat. And, mostly, winged. They are trying frantically to fly, propelling themselves out of the pond before collapsing beak first onto the grass. Much flapping of wings but no lift-off – as yet.

Today, Mama returned – with 7 tiny ducklings. They look as if they’ve just crept out of their eggshells, tiny balls of fur stumbling around.

The original 4 are REALLY annoyed. The look of disdain on their faces said it all, so we thought, until Boss Duck (aka Apple) had a go at the ducklings. Mama didn’t react much, apart from poking her beak at Boss. No dramatics, fights or other tantrums.

I wish I understood duck psychology.

Now they’re all hunkered down within a few feet of each other:

4 adolescents, 1 adult, 7 miniature ducklings and 1 rabbit. Sounds almost like the chorus of Tom Lehrer’s hunting song.

Gentle encouragement: Approaching God

2011-06-03T17:54:00.001+01:00

I’ve known Lisa Borden for over a quarter of a century. I know, it sounds old. We’re not really. Well, not that much. Lisa was a really young bride when I first met her. Now you know how old she and I are, middle-aged in years, young at heart, and spiritually – well, Lisa was always the mature one of the two of us. This friendship – just one of the many Lisa manages to sustain so thoughtfully – has nourished me beyond words.

I was reflecting recently on how gentle Lisa was, all those years ago when we met with our husbands to study the Bible together. She was so patient with this young Christian who really didn’t know much about the Bible at all and certainly not how to live a like a Christian.

Lisa taught – and continues to teach - me a great deal. Back then she taught me, without many words, just by her kind nature and her lifestyle. And now she teaches many others with her words too. Beautiful words, thoughtful words, insightful words. In her book, Approaching God.

Now I know a little more than I did then. I know the Bible better. I have some idea of how to live like a Christian. Sometimes, I feel I actually achieve it for a moment or two. And sometimes, I can pass on a little of what I learned from Lisa.

So I’m ordering another copy of her book to give to a friend. A friend who longs to know and serve God better. A friend who, through Lisa’s book, will discover God as father, mother, artist, healer, guide...not just head knowledge of God, but discovering God personally. Because Lisa opens up the way to God through metaphor and imagery, in poetry and prose, in pictures and gentle questioning.

This is a bedside book, a being beside me book, a carefully bagged handbag book, a desktop sojourner book. A dip-in, dive-in, delight-in book.

Approaching God.

Family catch up

2011-05-30T15:01:00.002+01:00

I have realised that most of my news recently has been about ducks. Well, they are very entertaining...I love looking out of the window to see the ducks staring back at me, demanding food, while the rabbit snoozes in the grass and a mallard and his bride nestle in the flowerbed...well, the last isn't too great as I survey the flattened flowers. Oh well.

Yet there is considerably more in my life than ducks. School, for one. Lots of paper work - reports, reviews, reorganisation, replanning...even redistributing the contents of my classroom cupboard (I can now see the floor - hallelujah!).

Church, for another. Thinking about dear friends who have been spiritual mentors for years (I cried when they told me they were moving back to Africa - and, at the time, they weren't even living in the same country as us! It was just that Europe seemed so much closer...), I realised that, unbelievably, I now - in a small, small, way - mentor others. How did that happen? (Not sure.) And what do I know? (Not much.)
At the same time, friendship groups are tightening, growing, including others more and more...New Wine a few weeks ago was a wonderful shared experience.

Socially - well, lots of coffees and dinners, barbecues, bike rides and kayaking...wonderful to have light mornings and long evenings. Summer.

As for Jonny and Cat: well, both are nearing the end of their intern years. Cat blogs a little, Jonny is still serving at Proclaimers church in Norwich. Both face changes and challenges.

Last month brought visits from old and dear friends, all a wonderful encouragement. Sometimes I even remember to ring friends for a chat and catch up. Still more visits planned for the summer.

And there is always reading: latterly, Tim Keller's The Prodigal God; Becky Manley Pippert's Out of the Saltshaker; and John Ortberg's The Me I Want to Be. Much food for thought.

Ducks growing up

2011-05-22T17:49:00.001+01:00

The ducks are an endless source of amusement. They now mob us whenever we set foot outside the house. When inside, they lurk under windows, or tap on the glass of the conservatory door with their beaks.

These permanent residents needed names. Apple, orange, peach and plum. Yum.

Education

2011-05-18T07:15:00.003+01:00

No time to write much recently - one of those times, as Fiona Castle said when she spoke at a ladies' breakfast I went to on Saturday, when I seemed to be having little bits of me broken off in all directions. Not bad, just busy.

But my friend Martyn found this clip about education. I'm fascinated as much by the way it is presented, as what it says...So I've archived it here! Here is the link to other talks...

Ducks, and how they live.

2011-05-03T21:33:00.002+01:00

With friend...previously, Mama Duck would chase him away. One time he fell in the pond...

Beginning to fledge...

The ducks are becoming more amusing by the day. They demand food, rushing up whenever we appear - whether outside or even near a window. They dog - or is that 'duck' - my very footsteps, following so closely at my heels that I dare not make any impulsive movement lest I tread on them. Like the baby birds they are, they start screaming for feed, imperatively demanding: cheeping and chirruping, apart from one, the largest, whose plumage is beginning to darken and change colour - along with his voice. It must be somewhat disconcerting to discover that your cheep now resembles a quack.

So the four musketeers spend their days huddled in a group, or rushing across the lawn, or in frantic activity in the pond: ducking and diving, or skeetering across the surface as they chase insects.

They spend their days making me smile.

The Reluctant Entertainer’s Ten Commandments of Hospitality

2011-04-27T19:48:00.001+01:00

Lovely title for the Reluctant Entertainer's blog. What great reminders these 10 commandments are! Though I have to confess to feelings of smugness: I have adopted these for years. Nevertheless, I break number 7 frequently and must remember not to do that: it's embarrassing for my guests. Hmmm.

1. Hospitality is not about you. It's about making others feel warm and welcome.
2. Plan ahead, be organized, and know your recipe. Learn to delegate.
3. Set the mood. Keep ambience and the five senses in mind.
4. Avoid perfectionism. Put fear aside - it's a robber of anything good.
5. Share conversation. Foster friendships by keeping things real.
6. Demonstrate thriftiness. Buying things at cost or learning to pinch pennies makes entertaining attainable on a budget.
7. Don't apologize. It's okay to make mistakes. Learn to not bring them to light in front of your guests; it robs your guests of relaxation.
8. Be creative. Use what you have. Keep things simple.
9. Learn from others. Find mentors and learn to find a healthy balance and keep things real.
10.Life impact is everything. Experience intimacy and meaning in sharing a meal and gleaning from others' lives.

Of ducks, rabbits and other dog substitutes...

2011-04-26T17:30:00.002+01:00

Mama and baby - one of eleven, originally...

...growing bigger...

and then there were four...

....beginning to fledge...

...with friend...

...bunny kiss...

Endless Eastertime entertainment...

Mpira

2011-04-15T17:35:00.001+01:00

It is just over a year since Mpira died. I still experience the shock - it was so sudden. I suppose it was this week - I don't remember the exact date, save that it was a Monday, although even that has no particular significance. Why remember the date of loss? Better to remember those many days of gain...of love, of affection, of enjoyment, of laughter.

Anyway, we are experiencing spring in a different way without him. Nearly three weeks ago, a mother duck arrived in the garden, eleven tiny ducklings in tow. The numbers quickly diminished - she would take them on a walk, coming back with one or two less each time (cats? crows? just lost? who knows?) - until a week later there were only four.

But those four have stayed. And grown. They are beginning to look like miniature ducks now.

And because Mpira is not here to harass them, I spend my days gazing out of the window, fascinated as they rush across the lawn, between bird feeder and pond. Tiny rabbits eat daisies, barely hopping aside as I go backwards and forwards to the washing line. Tits, greenfinches, robins, chaffinches and goldfinches cluster around the bird feeder, jostling, maneouvring, LIVING...

And flowers have exploded.

Excitement!!

2011-04-14T10:10:00.004+01:00

Now, this is just so exciting that I have posted this over on WordsFromGodforToday as well. I have just stumbled across a tremendous Bible reference site - thanks, Bonnie! It has parallel translations, cross-references, the context, chain references, commentaries and many different translations such as Bible Gateway has. It has all kinds of other study aids too which I can't even begin to understand! Interesting that there are different web addresses - I've added them all on here. The author of the sites has many other useful references as well.

And here are more sites: Bible study for children, free online Bible study courses, Bible research...And then there is the largest online Bible study, apparently!

I'm always a little bit careful about what I read on the internet - testing the spirits, and all that - but this does seem to be OK. It looks SOOO exciting!

(Do I want to go back to work after Easter? There just isn't enough time to do everything!)

A 'mean' day

2011-04-13T19:27:00.000+01:00

After the amazing, marvellous, completely wonderful sunshiney weather it's strange to be back to a 'mean' day, as Catharine used to refer to the grey days of a Nairobi August, when temperatures were as low as 14 degrees and we wore sweaters...

But it has had its advantages.

I've immersed myself in blogs - and blogging. (Most of my blog entries these days seem to be over on WordsFromGodforToday). It's been a good catch up - or the beginning of one, anyway. I'm not done yet.

I've still been outside - a little. Planted out the tiny lettuce and spinach seedlings into pots in the greenhouse, ready for succulent salads in another couple of weeks. Been for a short bike ride, combined with shopping - friends coming next week, so I'm slowly stocking up on things I think teenage boys might like to eat. How satisfying: exercise and saving energy - and time - all in one go! I love it.

And I've caught up on some school work, which would have been hard to do on an amazingly marvellous sunshiney day.

Thank you, 'mean' day!

Sweet photos

2011-04-12T21:04:00.000+01:00

Not sure how to get these off facebook - so here's the link to some wonderful photos from a few years ago. Sweet.

The joys of waiting; fitting everything in; what I did in event of fog...

2011-04-02T13:51:00.000+01:00

So, I arrived at the airport spot on time for check-in, after a worried sprint from the car park.

I fitted everything in first. Left lesson plans for the next day, photocopied worksheets, labelled the resources. Arranged meetings. Reviewed timetables. Checked the school garden. Wrote emails. Took the year group on a History trip. Arranged for the children to be delivered to their parents. Rushed to the airport.

On time. The plane wasn't. It wasn't anywhere near, in fact - we were fogged in, so no planes could land or take off.

So I waited. For 3 hours, until it was evident to everyone as the fog thickened and blanketed down for the night, that nothing would be coming or going that day.

What to do? I was going to a conference. Even if everything was running to time the next morning (which it wasn't, as the planes had to arrive first, causing a two hour delay at the start), I would still get to the conference late. As it was, it wouldn't be possible to get there before midday.

So I cancelled. Went home to a delighted husband. Went to school the next day to a surprised and sympathetic staff.

Hmmph. What a waste of resources - the conference fee and hotel costs and my time. Still, I was here for breakfast. And that was wonderful.

The joys of travel; fitting everything in; what to do in the event of fog.

2011-03-30T20:48:00.002+01:00

Hmmm. I'm off island tomorrow evening, going for a day conference in London. I should be back Friday evening. 12 hours after my arrival, I'm hosting one of my monthly ladies' breakfasts.

Today it is foggy. All the flights have been cancelled. I'm wondering if a) I'll be able to leave tomorrow, and b) if I'll get back in time.

I've left lists and phone numbers with my long-suffering husband. Lists of items I need taking out of the freezer or preparing, in case I am delayed until the next day; phone numbers in case I have to cancel. Or ask another friend to host in my place. In my house. Not sure that that will work, but it's worth a try.

Hmmm....

Grief

2011-03-13T18:05:00.000Z

Grief is an odd thing. It becomes familiar, and its familiarity is resentful. It resents my return to old haunts. It jumps out from behind an invisible bush, chastising me for daring to put myself somewhere - without the dog. It pokes spitefully as I walk down a familiar path. Reproaches as I gaze at a particular view. Reprimands for waking up alone. Scolds in the silence of an empty house.

The first times were the worst: then I became accustomed. But now, with every new twist and turn of the seasons, grief seizes its opportunities to pierce me again with sorrow. A change in the light, the smell of flowers, a memory of cut grass, the mallards which roam unhindered across the lawn - all bringers of a spring without Mpira.

I know the first year of loss is the worst. I know I have to reach, journey through and emerge from each new month. To experience it for the first time without him. Then, next time, grief's misery is lessened, paled, diluted, diminished.

All this over a dog.

Moving less sucessfully

2011-03-12T21:13:00.001Z

I've been reading a blog post called Called to the Crazy. The author, Tsh Oxenreider, talks about moving countless times and relates how her kids are fine with uprooting because as a family, they’re grounded.

I wish that had been true for my family. I thought, like Tsh, that the glue that held us together was our trust in God. And it was. But there was a huge 'but'...

I too have moved, but not so successfully. We made a difficult move BACK to our own culture – displaced, disenfranchised inwardly while outwardly we looked – and were expected to be – ‘normal’. The children were teenagers, enduring grief, separation, loneliness, bullying…our lives were crazy but, save that ‘God works all things together for good’, not ‘crazy good’. It was an awful time which we struggled to be positive in.

I know that a ‘good attitude’ makes a huge difference, but I do wonder how we can exult in our calling, rejoicing in God’s goodness and plans when reality so often bites us.

I wish we could have had a better, more trusting attitude. It was just really, really hard and I suspect is so for many.

She claims that every one of us is 'called to the crazy'. God calls us often into the unknown, the uncomfortable and that it's not really so unusual. After all, there are various Biblical examples which suggest that God does indeed call us out of our comfort zones.

Tsh Oxenreider says "So when He calls us to the crazy, we can follow knowing His plans are for His best."

I wish.

Coffee morning

2011-02-27T17:08:00.000Z

I had a coffee morning a few Saturdays ago, to raise awareness and funds for Christians Against Poverty – twice as many people came as I was expecting (parking was ‘interesting’) and it raised over £400, including donations from staff members who didn’t even come – very generous. It was just fun to get people together – breakfast this Saturday! I hadn't done one before - just baked a few cakes, put out lots of cups, tidied downstairs and cleaned the windows and bathroom - but it was quite easy. I think I could quite happily do a coffee morning every week!

Good things

2011-02-05T21:11:00.003Z

A busy busy day of good things.

A morning of preparing good food and sweet treats.
Of brewing coffee, making tea.
Of welcoming friends, old and new, into my home. (37 of them. Adults, that is. And children besides. Wow, what a squash!)

An afternoon of thankfulness.
For wind, and waves; gardens and greenery; generosity and growth.
For husband of more than 26 years. Precious times.
For children, grown up, yet still hysterically funny 3 year olds in my memory. (And in video clips.)

An evening of relaxation.
Talking to a beloved daughter.
Praying for dear friends.
Laughing over blessed memories.

Busy busy day!

When I get the time…

2011-02-05T21:02:00.002Z

When I get the time, I read blogs. They encourage me.
There are so many amazing people out there, all writing
about the amazing things they do. Amazing.

Then I think about all the amazing people I know.
They are so busy doing amazing things
they don’t have the time to write about them.

But then I can’t read about them and I can’t be encouraged.
Even if I have the time.
So…? Too busy to write? Or not busy enough?

Not here

2011-01-24T08:58:00.001Z

Missionaries here
talk about Africa
as being
'out there'.

But Africa
is not 'out there'.
Africa is here,
in my heart.

So I am not here.
Not entirely. My heart
is in Africa.
I am

somewhere inbetween.

Clever Blogger!

2011-01-11T17:07:00.000Z

I don't know if this is entirely random, but I was amazed to find today that every time I clicked on 'next blog' from WordsFromGodForToday I arrived at another Christian blog. Now how clever is that? So I had a very pleasant half hour or so...(yes, blog-cruising is addictive) sailing briefly through lives of other Christians all over the world. So cool!

Inspiration

2011-01-09T10:02:00.000Z

Inspiration from Mary Beth Whalen's blog on January 6th: Matthew West singing My Own Little World. Brilliant.

Christmas

2010-12-30T20:52:00.001Z

Although I always look forward to Christmas, there was something very special about it this year. Usually we celebrate Jesus' birthday in the company of friends, but this time we kept our rejoicings just to the four of us. This is the third time, since we married 26 - 26!! - years ago, that we have done so. The first time seemed wrong - selfish. It just happened that we spent it on our own that year, but we could probably have done something more sociable. The second time was when we were almost 'on holiday' - Richard had moved to Guernsey just a couple of months earlier and we had come over for the Christmas holidays. We barely knew anyone on the island, so made Christmas happen in the tiny flat he was renting.

This year, with J and C working away from home, it felt right for the four of us to spend the time together on our own. And our time has been full of blessing.

The blessing of being together again: J home on 22nd December, C on 23rd, both braving the near Arctic conditions in the UK.
The blessing of a cycle ride together on Christmas morning, sun on our faces, wind in our hair, the sea sparkling beside us.
The blessing of a familiar walk.
The blessing of time to relax.
The blessing of candles, Christmas lights, a log fire.
The blessing of games played or films watched - together.
The blessing of a special meal shared.
The blessing of empty cupboards, as mugs and glasses are used up and scattered around the house before they are retrieved for washing up.
The blessing of thoughtfulness, of gifts carefully chosen, of help offered.
Blessing upon blessing.

Words words words fun fun fun!

2010-12-22T08:09:00.000Z

Having discovered - and been frustrated by - Wordle, now there is Tagxedo. I LOVE IT! Just look at this. Wonderful word shapes.

I'm still exploring, but it's VERY exciting. I've just had a little go with a few words from Isaiah 9. Check it out.

Presents

2010-12-18T18:28:00.001Z

A friend's son commented recently that he didn't need presents at Christmas. He'd be satisfied with his mother's cinnamon rolls...and yes, they WERE very good.

I tend to agree. Here in the western world, there is little that we give or receive at Christmas which we really NEED - although my presents, both received and given, tend to pass the 'usefulness' test.

Yet there is something wonderful about choosing and giving gifts. It sparks generosity, unleashes creativity and inspires a more loving attitude. More than the gift itself, giving says 'I love you.'

Cinnamon rolls can say that too, of course. Just not in quite the same way.

Waiting

2010-12-17T17:36:00.001Z

This Christmas, I seem to be more prepared than I have been for years. I actually made a Christmas cake - for possibly the third time in my life - a few weeks ago. Safely stored in its tin, it will take only an hour to cover it with marzipan and icing. Today I made mince pies, with pastry so delicious that it literally melted in the mouth. The tree is up, the house simply decorated, the cards written - only email greetings left, which I will look forward to doing on Monday morning, sitting in front of the fire with a cappuchino to hand. Even the presents are wrapped.

And I am waiting.

I have never had to wait so long, before, for my children to come home for Christmas. It is a whole extra week this time, a long 7 days. Now they have left uni, 'term-time' no longer applies. They come when they can.

And I am not alone.

One friend is desperate to see her 12 year old son, a talented tennis player who attends a specialist academy - in Spain.
Another hasn't seen her 25 year old for almost a year. Newly engaged, he is travelling from Australia with his fiancee.
Several others wait for their children to return from uni, or from jobs. All gathering for Christmas.

Waiting
we long
for the presence of the loved.
A tiny glimpse
into our God's heart
waiting for His children
to come home.

Those Borden Boys!

2010-12-04T18:07:00.000Z

Here is a link to an awesome little music video featuring Jesse (drums) and Trevor (singer) Borden, Jonny's close friends. I have known them since before they were born, while they were still being prayed for. Their mother, Lisa, has written a beautiful little book on Approaching God in prayer. So talented, this family. Blessed and a blessing.

Advent!

2010-12-04T17:56:00.000Z

The coming or arrival, especially of something important. Advent.

Yes, a joyous season. Yet there is something especially sombre about it. As I focus ESPECIALLY on that first coming of Jesus, I cannot but help think of my own unworthiness. It is, quite honestly, almost too much. I almost don't get it. Am I worth someone else's life? I don't think so, but Jesus did. Billions of times over. Mind-blowing.

So, as I decorate the house, put up Christmas lights, a tree, add ornaments, bake...I consider my life. I consider how I can live better - because of Jesus. How I can love better - because of Jesus. How I can laugh better - because Advent, leading towards Christmas, is an indescribably joyous time.

And that deserves my laughter.

Moon

2010-11-29T13:13:00.000Z

Palely
in grey dawn light
faint-hearted ambassador
thrown awry
misplaced.

Deep in midnight
eager fingers
searched out hiding places
silver rays
threw sharp shadows
at home.

I am easily amused...

2010-11-25T11:45:00.000Z

I am easily amused by children.

Discussing the symbolism of rings in the marriage ceremony: "Well, if it was a square, it would all go pear-shaped..."

Place value: the value of the underlined digit in this number: 345.... is 6.

Me: Give your books in, then you may leave the class.
Child, standing there, clutching pencil case: May I leave?

?? !!!

Teaching

2010-11-16T21:10:00.002Z

The TES (Times Educational Supplement) dropped a newsletter in my inbox this week. One of the updates caught my eye: "You know you're a teacher when..."

Hmmm. Was it the answer: ...your children ask you: 'Is this rubbish or a resource?' or...you scare children in the supermarket just by giving them "the look"....or you tuck chairs in around friends' tables when you visit...or at home, phrases like whoops -a-daisy and 'oh dear' are used instead of swearing when things go wrong... or you expect everyone to be quiet when you speak - even in a pub...you go shopping and spend more time trying to spot kids before they spot you...it shocks you when people use your first name...or even: you say to your husband, 'look at me when I'm talking to you!'.

I don't think having an argument with my class about surfboard length and classification - longboard, shortboard, etc - qualifies, somehow.

Laughter

2010-11-13T21:33:00.005Z

‎"A cheerful disposition is good for your health; gloom and doom leave you bone-tired." Prov. 17:22 (Message)
I came across this today, just a couple of hours after finding this article on laughter:
THE BENEFITS OF LAUGHTER
Feeling stressed or under the weather? A good old-fashioned belly-laugh is a proven pick-me-up in more ways than one - and there are plenty of failsafe ways to get giggling, no matter how low your mood. Here's all you need to know about the benefits of laughter - and how to get more into your life...
1. Laugh to banish stress.
You know how a good laugh can make you feel better about pretty much any situation? There's actually a scientific reason for this. Research shows that laughter triggers the release of feel-good endorphins into the bloodstream, while levels of stress hormones fall. The result? You start to relax.
Laugh now!
A woman walks into a bar and asked for a double entendre. So the landlord gives her one.
2. Laugh when you wake up
Do you grimace when the alarm clock goes off in the morning? Try laughing instead. And if getting out of bed at 7am doesn't seem even remotely amusing, just fake a smile. 'If you make yourself smile or laugh, you'll trick your brain into thinking you're happy, and get your day off to a good start,' says laughter therapist Joe Hoare.
Laugh now!
Two fish in a tank. One turns to the other and says, 'How do we drive this thing?'
3. Laugh to boost your heart
Want a good reason to sit down and watch your favourite funny film or sitcom? Be our guest! Watching comedy is good for the heart because it boosts blood flow, according to researchers from the University of Maryland in the US. It's thought that the act of laughing widens the arteries - whereas mental stress is known to narrow them.
Laugh now!
Two men are sitting at a bar. One screams to the other, 'I slept with your mother!' The pub falls silent. And the other man says: 'Go home, Dad - you're drunk.'
4. Laugh to cure a cold
If you're suffering from the sniffles, allow us to prescribe a healthy dose of The Inbetweeners or Outnumbered. Medical research scientist Dr Lee Berk has discovered that the physiological effects of laughter can help combat viruses and bacteria, as well as increase the antibodies that fight colds and upper respiratory tract infections.
Laugh now!
An old lady takes her dog to the vet's. 'I'm sorry,' says the vet. 'I'm going to have to put him down.' 'But why?' shrieks the old lady. 'Because he's too heavy,' the vet explains.
5. Laugh to boost your appetite
If you feel too stressed to eat properly, it's high time you had a giggle. People who watch funny movies or comedy acts experience the same hormonal changes that follow exercise and are believed to heighten appetite, according to more US research carried out by Dr Lee Berk.
Laugh now!
Question: What's brown and sticky? Answer: A stick.
6. Laugh for your lungs
Need an excuse to skip the gym and go out with your friends instead? A 20-second belly laugh can be as beneficial for your lungs as three minutes on a rowing machine, according to researchers at the University of Michigan. Oh, and it can help strengthen your tummy muscles, too.
Laugh now!
Question: What's green, has four legs, and will kill you if it falls out of a tree on to your head? Answer: A snooker table.
7. Laugh with a good book
Can't find anything to laugh at? It's time to visit the 'Humour' section of your local bookshop or library: a quick flick through the joke books should do the trick. Or revisit one of your favourite giggle-inducing novels. Our picks? What A Carve Up! by Jonathan Coe or Starter For Ten by David Nicholls. You can also find out more about the science of comedy in Laughter: A Scientific Investigation by Professor Robert Provine.
Laugh now!
An Englishman, Scotsman and Irishman go into a pub - and the landlord says, 'Is this some kind of joke?'
8. Laugh with other people
It sounds silly but you can actually join a class to learn how to laugh - and how to use this skill to boost your day-to-day health and wellbeing. Laughter therapy and 'laughter yoga' courses are springing up around the UK: for more details, check out www.laughternetwork.co.uk or www.laughingmatters.co.uk.
Laugh now!
A penguin goes into a pub and asks, 'Has my brother been in?' 'I don't know,' says the landlord. 'What does he look like?'
9. Laugh at yourself
Get out of your comfort zone and do something spontaneous and silly to spur on the giggles and boost your mood.

Hmmm. That last one might be a bit of a challenge if you're so down in the dumps that you need a mood-booster!

No shortcuts

2010-11-13T20:54:00.001Z

Ouch! Just read a superb blog over at Proverbs31: There Are No Shortcuts To Anywhere Worth Going. Or, in other words, "Laziness leads to a sagging roof; idleness leads to a leaky house." Ecclesiastes 10:18 (NLT)
Ouch indeed. Wise words which cut sharp. I am not a lazy person but I still need this reminder to 'get my act together', get off the computer RIGHT NOW and start the long overdue cleaning I had promised myself would get done this morning. Instead, guess what I have been doing? Yes, restoring my soul with Proverbs 31 wisdom but there are indeed still no shortcuts to a (relatively) clean house!

It's a fine balance between working hard, getting needed rest and not beating up on ourselves when we get one or other wrong. So I tore myself away from the computer, tackled the cleaning and the other chores...and it feels good. A day spent wisely. Now a short wind-down before heading off for bed...rest.

Cooking

2010-11-05T11:54:00.002Z

I've just posted this comment over at Renee Swope's blog about cooking. And whether or not I am a 'cooker'. Hmm. Not too sure really.

I used to be a cooker...and, sometimes, I still am.
I love recipes - but I don't usually follow them (except for LeAnn's, as much as I can, even though I have to convert from American to British).
I love giving friends food - especially breakfast - but don't care too much about making it too fancy (though it's nice to try something new for them, too).
I'm not much of a cooker now that I am a blogger. Yet I have started, slowly slowly slowly, to blog my favourite recipes. The ones that really work. And they're online, so I can't lose them... The first recipe I recorded, at my daughter's request (she is a much better cook than I am) is Gougere - delicious savoury choux pastry.

Of Jonny, flu and hair...

2010-11-05T08:55:00.000Z

We just came back, last week, from a visit to Jonny where he generously shared his bad case of flu with us - after struggling through the week, we're both off work today! The guilt feels good, somehow. It's a relief to just be able to rest up - every time I attempted to speak yesterday I was halted by a huge coughing fit. Not so good when teaching.

Anyway, J has had his hair chopped off for work, oh sadness. At least it is only 'short back and sides' and still has a decent amount on top, though not long. It'll take YEARS to grow back, if ever - we loved the lion's mane.

Such is life. Change.

I cried this morning.

2010-11-02T13:43:00.000Z

Driving to school, I burst into tears. Suddenly, unexpectedly, hurting.

The radio was reporting on the proposed cut on benefits in the UK. Talking about how this would plunge some folk deeper into poverty. Discussing the fact that children from poor homes start school at a developmental age of a year younger than their more affluent peers: so a 3 year old with a background of poverty would react and behave like a 2 year old.

That was bad enough. It is amazing that such children are able to catch up. Yet it was pointed out that the lack of money itself does not necessarily mean that development will be affected: it is poverty in upbringing, in parenting, which has the most detrimental effect.

It was what I heard next that affected me most. That secondary aged children, when asked what they wanted most from school, mentioned things such as the skills for a good job; the ability to form lasting friendships; and, overall, these children wanted to be taught how to be good parents. Because they haven't been parented well themselves and, consequently, are under-achievers.

So I burst into tears, at the thought that children are already thinking like adults. Longing to give their children the childhood they haven't experienced themselves. Incredibly sad.

A random half term break...

2010-10-30T17:38:00.001+01:00

Saturday evening. One more day, then back to school. It's been a random week.

The families I work with go to Mauritius, Barbados, Egypt, Morocco or EuroDisney for their half term holidays. (Skiing in February, of course.)
I whizz around between here and the UK.

Latest trip was Norwich, to see Jonny. He came down with flu the day we got there, poor thing. Still, we had a good evening together, then whizzed off the next morning to get the plane back here, calling in on a set of godparents on the way. Really good to see them: "We would have been good friends if we'd lived closer," said Kim, some years ago. She was wrong. We have never lived close but we are still good friends. Their friendship is valuable and precious.

Mother that I am, I spent a couple of days praying hard and hoping to hear that Jonny was better. It was a doddle when they were toddlers - there seems more to 'worry' over as they get older... Thankfully, he is on the mend now.

Inbetween the visits to the UK we caught up with household tidying and gardening; took the kayak out on a glassy calm, sunny afternoon, creeping through tiny inlets in the rocks as seaweed undulated gently beneath us. Went surfing. Enjoyed 'down' time.

Today, I have spent a day at New Wine Women Guernsey. Ellie Mumford spoke to us. What refreshment!

Joys and bittersweetness

2010-10-25T10:21:00.000+01:00

Off we went to Manchester on the red-eye (yes, I love getting up at 5am) on Friday, whizzing back here Saturday evening, late.

Hired a car. Drove to pick up my mother. She chatted non-stop as soon as she got in the car, continuing for the next couple of hours. Beautiful drive through autumn-tinged fields, red-gold leaves sharply in contrast with rich black loamy fields. Coffee, sitting in warm sunshine streaming through the windows.

Bittersweet. She could hardly walk, complaining of tiredness after half a dozen steps. She barely knew me. What she said rarely made any sense at all.

Drove to Bradford over the Pennines. Superb views. Even more superb to meet Catharine at Christians Against Poverty. What a fantastic place to work: open, friendly, huge fun; focused on helping people escape the confines of debt and the shackles of fear. And a daughter so full of joy and enthusiasm, loving every minute of her new life. Drive to Yorkshire National Park, Bolton Abbey, Ilkley - such a feeling of space, history, a new culture beckoning exploration. Another time...

Then the farewells. Bittersweet. 8 weeks to Christmas.

Whizzed back towards the airport, calling in to see dear friends for a cup of tea. Wonderful to be with, to catch up, to rejoice in. Then, negotiating motorways and traffic jams once more, we returned.

Phew.

Indulgent catch up...

2010-10-25T09:57:00.000+01:00

This feels somewhat self-indulgent, sitting here, writing a bit on a blog when I really 'should be' doing a thousand and a half other things ...but it IS the first 'proper' day of half term. 'Proper' in that we whizzed off on the red-eye to Manchester the day after school finished and I spent yesterday recovering. It's Monday: the beginning of the 'week off': the day when I 'should' start my catch-up tasks. Hang on: that's what I'm doing right now. Catching up on the blog. That's fine, then.

I don't know what it is about teaching, why things go banana-crazy hectic in the last couple of weeks before half term, end of term, end of year... they just do. Parents meetings - and the time-consuming follow up; grades, reports; Harvest Festival service, organising the decoration of the church and the subsequent 'Hedge Veg' Farmers Market; birthday cards and presents... and ICT course in the middle of all this. I don't know how I managed all the work of the PSHE course last year...

But it has been great fun, and worth it.

Worth it to meet the parents, seeing their features reflected in those of the children I know so well; rejoicing with them at successes, considering how to best help them achieve all of which they are capable - to use a report-type phrase.

Worth it to see the joy in the children as they joined in with singing 'In the beginning, God made...', performing the actions as enthusiastically as at a disco; the pride on the face of the young soloist who struggles with reading and writing, yet filled the church with his sweet voice; the enthusiasm as the Year 6 children 'sold' the fruits and vegetables with more energy than that of an East End trader, shouting out their invented slogans: 'A melon for the price of a lemon' or 'Cheaper than Checkers' (the largest supermarket we have here).

Worth it to pray for the dear friends and relatives as I prepare cards and presents, thanking God for them: timely reminders to stop in the middle of busyness and be thankful.

This is not self-indulgent. This is worth it: appreciating, as I review the last two weeks of my life, what is of value.

Autumn madness

2010-10-11T09:19:00.002+01:00

Autumn has set in, with a vengeance. Our little island was lashed with gales and rain - horizontal at times. 'Showers' came out of nowhere, drenching within seconds. Then the sun leapt back before grey clouds whipped it aside again. More rain. More wind.

Then The Weather relaxed, breathing warm and mildly again. The sun shone all day, a gentle breeze wafted, the midnight skies gleamed with stars as soft evenings beckoned us outside in the dark.

The tide overflowed onto the piers, with gentle yet inexorable power.

It was still autumn, yet we went swimming.The sea was warmer than a few weeks ago. The air, on wet skin, chilled flesh and bone.

Autumn madness.

Autumn

2010-09-26T21:08:00.002+01:00

Autumn seems to be on its way at last - colder now, although the days have been bright and sunny. Windy.

Today, determined not to stay indoors, I went out blackberry picking.
The wind was absolutely piercing: chilling, in spite of the sun. Yet in the lee of the hedges, in the sunshine, it was warm.
I had the most amazing couple of hours on my own, alone apart from my thoughts. And my mobile phone.

Now, I have a phone ONLY because my family say I need one. Never mind that they then get cross with me if they try to call, because I rarely have it on me. My excuse is I don't always have pockets. So what's a girl to do? I always leave it in a safe place, it's just that I might not be near it. Anyway, I digress. I have a phone. I have a NEW phone. Again, only because my family gave it to me for my birthday. I'd managed to resist getting a new one - my old one worked, it just didn't have enough battery power to sustain a phone call. I never minded that, as I never called anyway, just texted occasionally. And so my family got cross with me when they tried to call because, even if I answered - being near enough to hear it etc etc - then the phone would cut out and die.

So what was amazing about the phone? What was amazing was that it has a RADIO on it. This tiny, pocket-sized piece of electronic gadgetry has a radio. It took me a little while to work out how to actually tune it in, but after that I was away. Gardeners Question Time - resuscitating dead gardenias (not possible, as it turned out); A View Through a Lens - tigers in India ( a bit boring, I turned back to Radio Guernsey for a few minutes); Classic Serial The Ladies' Delight by Emile Zola - riveting, in spite of being distracted by the country English accents of Parisian characters; and Open Book with the wonderfully named Mariella Frostrup, interviewing Susan Hill and two authors writing two different novels featuring immigrants to Paris - which got me wondering about my grandmother who studied at the Sorbonne over a hundred years ago...

It was such a delicious afternoon. I ventured only a couple of hundred metres from home but spent a couple of hours in the sunshine, picking blackberries, wearing headphones and intently listening, listening, listening...

And blessed God for the sunshine, the fruit, the peace - and my family for the gift.

Back into school

2010-09-24T20:46:00.000+01:00

Three and a half weeks into term, and now I know I'm thoroughly 'into' school.
I know because I've started to remember all the funny things the children say and do (rather than just looking forward to Fridays!). I tell my husband. I tell any staff who will listen. I just love it so much!

There are some real characters. Overheard on the way in from the playground: "You just DON'T understand the CONTEXT of 'accidental'." I wouldn't have believed a 9 year old would talk like that had I not been the recipient of a long lecture, during my RE lesson, on the prerequisites for becoming a vicar. From the same child. I would have been impressed by any Year 8 who was able to tell me the same thing.

There is the little boy who seems to be in a dream world of his own, yet is obviously highly intelligent. And the one who can't - won't - stop talking. And the one who, with very difficult home circumstances and an emotional character, still manages to hold himself together, giving his all. The boys who love maths puzzles and won't stop working when it's time for the lesson to end. And the boy who went home, wrote 200 words of a story and then got up early the next morning to write some more. 9 years old!

Wow! I LOVE teaching.

How a week becomes less sad...

2010-09-22T20:16:00.001+01:00

I wrote recently about the intermingling of happiness and sadness in our lives. I've just realised how things change.

We're still sad that our friends have left us. Yet, in the last couple of weeks, we've had a special visit from old friends, celebrating 25 years of friendship. We've spent time with precious new friends. And I discovered that a colleague at school is a believer!

We're still sad when we remember Mpira. Yet the baby rabbit who has 'grown up' in our garden since he left is now so tame that he doesn't stir when we walk past him. Or her. Who knows?

We're still sad that the 'kids' are not here with us. Yet when we hear that one is so loving her job, so excited about working that she happily puts in an 11 hour day, we cannot help but smile. And when I read in an email that the other has the part-time job he needs, in a coffee shop where the customers will be hugely blessed by his infectious smiles and jaunty cheerfulness, I squeak with joy. So glad to see how God is making ways smoother for him.

And yes, there is - will always be - an element of sadness that autumn is approaching. Meanwhile, we enjoy a wonderful indian summer, so warm we sit outside in the evening under a full moon. So warm that it is easy to swim in the cold sea, or cycle home late in the dark. The air breathes.

Sadness. And happiness. And, even, joy.

Simple pleasures

2010-09-18T17:29:00.000+01:00

Rachel Olsen is hosting a devotional carnival next week - the title is Simple Pleasures. That didn't need much thinking!

Today, four friends came round for breakfast. We do this once a month or so - up to a dozen of us, busy women who hold down full time jobs. We sit round the table, enjoying a little time out of hectic lives. We eat, laugh and talk about Jesus and what a good friend he is to us - especially at work. Simple. Pleasing.

The sun shone - all day. A simple pleasure.

I went out kayaking with my husband. As we paddled across the bay, the water was smooth as glass. A simple pleasure. So was the cappuchino we drank in the warm September sunshine on the beach.

This afternoon, I harvested crab apples from our tree. Such goodness from nature. A simple pleasure.

I have just finished re-reading - not for the last time - my friend Lisa's book Approaching God. A simple pleasure.

In a few minutes, I shall leave to cycle the length of this pretty little island. The sea is still sparkling as evening approaches and the tide has come flowing gently in. A simple pleasure.

And I shall spend the evening with good friends, laughing, learning, living. A simple pleasure.

How good a day this is.

How can a week be so sad when there is so much to be happy about?

2010-09-06T21:55:00.004+01:00

I know life is full of contrasts, but sometimes they seem so mixed up with each other I don't know whether to laugh or cry. So end up doing neither, which weighs heavily on me.

Sadness.
Farewell to dear friends, leaving our tiny town for a distant continent.
Happiness.
Thankful that we know them. A dream of visiting one day. Anticipation of long chats on skype.

Sadness.

Remembrance of our dog, now several months deceased, his absence still a pain in our hearts.

Happiness

as we watch the rabbits playing around his grave.

Sadness
Leave-taking of beloved 'children'. Those two special adults who live with us in our house during high days and holidays.
Happiness
That they have listened to God's call on their lives, seeking to live out Isaiah 61:
the Spirit of the Sovereign LORD is on me,
because the LORD has anointed me
to preach good news to the poor.
He has sent me to bind up the brokenhearted,
to proclaim freedom for the captives
and release from darkness for the prisoners,

to proclaim the year of the LORD's favour...

Sadness

that the summer is going as we return to school

Happiness

thankful that the weather has been wonderfully warm and sunny and that I am returning to a job I love.

Sadness and happiness. Intertwined, indistinguishable.

Cake sale!

2010-08-31T08:55:00.000+01:00

As part of Cat's internship with Christians Against Poverty, she has to fundraise for the charity, aiming for a total of £3000 over the whole year. Quite a lot.

She started with a talk - illustrated with a superb Powerpoint - in church, followed by a cake sale. We seemed to be baking for days, but she raised over £400 through the generosity of the congregation in both donating and buying cakes. It was a lovely opportunity to chat to people, too.

Christians Against Poverty

2010-08-31T08:26:00.000+01:00

Cat leaves on Saturday, to live in Bradford. (We'll go over with her as she will be having a very minor op THE DAY BEFORE. Cat lives by my friend Karyn's philosophy: 'There's always time for one more thing.')
She is going to work as an intern for a year with Christians Against Poverty. She'll have an allowance which will allow her to subsist, but no more. She'll be learning how to live within her means without getting into debt. (She has never gone into debt, but her hard work during the uni vacations has meant she has had enough money to get quite comfortably through her degree course.) It will be an exciting and challenging year.

Christians Against Poverty (CAP) is an international debt-counselling charity. Cat will be working in the department which puts on events, conferences, training opportunities - just what she is passionate about. The charity has come top of the The Times newspaper's Best Small Companies to work for - more than once. So great experience.

Climbing the ladder in the finance industry - and industry it certainly is - was never her aim. Had it been, she would have stayed here on Guernsey. But we have to let her go...

And Jonny returns to Norwich the day after tomorrow. To spend a year with his church as an intern, working with the youth and the homeless. He, too, forswears the lure of riches and an easy life. He is an incredible blessing...

Holidays

2010-08-31T08:11:00.002+01:00

Holidays are interesting. As a teacher, I have LOTS of them. I only work 9 - 3.30 and then have a total of 16 weeks paid holiday every year.

Huh. That's not precisely true. I actually work from 8 - 5 in school, then some when I get home. Often at weekends, too. My lunch 'hour' (50 minutes) is usually half filled with duties or extra-curricular clubs.

But I DO have 16 weeks when I'm not in school. The other 36 are so intense that I literally spin on the spot at times, like some robotic automaton in a factory on top speed. I amaze myself with the amount of work I achieve. Often, sleep suffers. 16 weeks is only just enough catch up time...

So holidays are breaks from work. They are 'catch-up' time.
Catch-up on school work - planning, preparation, research.
Catch-up on home work.tidying, cleaning, sorting.
Catch-up on friendships: time for coffee, meals, barbecues on the beach.
Catch-up on life.

But holidays are also full of change.
Change of scenery,as we go away. This year was a riotous week on a boat in France. We ambled slowly down a beautiful river, drinking in the beautiful views, swimming in clear, warm water, visiting impossibly picturesque villages, enjoying the quiet of sleepy streets on sunny afternoons, laughing as we jumped, dived or swung off ropes into the water. Praising God for music and beauty and friends.

Change of atmosphere at home. Two grown 'children' who go diligently to boring jobs throughout hot summer days so that they can save up enough money to support themselves in full-time Christian work. I am learning how to be a mother all over again. It seems just as difficult this time round: mothering, nurturing, supporting...adults.

Visitors, too. Family staying, almost three generations as my nephews are aged only 2 and 6, young enough to be my grandchildren. In theory. The change in the house seemed radical: far from expanding to accommodate 4 more people and many toys, the very building seemed to shrink on itself. Once they had left, the house relaxed with a sigh, stretching weary walls towards the garden.

And parties. Two LARGE ones. Washing up and clearing up took only a day, but it seemed like a year.

And I changed. I changed from being a dedicated, focused, intensely hard-working career teacher who can't often be bothered with cooking and cleaning, to a nurturing home maker who looked for opportunities to bake and cook and share and welcome.

That was a GOOD change. I needed this holiday.

Graduation!

2010-08-09T08:55:00.005+01:00

July was a busy busy month...we even braved the boat to travel to UK. The boat was fine - met up with my friend Sarah, also going over with her girls - but the traffic was another story. Traffic jam to setting point on every journey. Still, we survived. And it was worth it.

J and C's graduation. Fortunately, on the same day. It was a moving occasion as hundreds of youngsters celebrated their achievement. (We hadn't realised how fortunate, also, that they had gone to the same uni: we could have been faced with two graduations on the same day in different parts of the country.) We are so proud of our son and daughter: not just for achieving good degrees, but for who they are...a man and woman after God's own heart. Blessed.

Frisbee, swingball...

2010-08-06T14:12:00.003+01:00

One of Cat's interests at uni has been playing ultimate frisbee. She has been captain of the women's team: called the Aye Ayes, she has been known as Captain Bird's Eye. The mixed team reached the nationals this year, much to their surprise, and Cat has also whizzed off to London for training and Amsterdam to play in a tournament.

So no surprise, then, that she brought her frisbee home.

And then there was swingball...

I never did manage to hit the ball...

Fishing

2010-08-06T13:54:00.000+01:00

When we go out in the kayak, we - no, not WE, Richard or The Boy - always take the fishing rod with us. I deny all wish to take the rod as I like paddling my kayak, not twirling round in circles as we try to disentangle the hook from Seaweed, Rocks or Fingers. (Richard, in trying to disentangle hooks from Seaweed and Rocks while UNDERWATER also then had to disentangle his FINGER from the hooks. Underwater. The slightly panicked yanking of hook from said finger resulted in some impressive bruising. But I digress).

The rod has, however, been useful. It has caught garfish - the same fish, twice. It jumped back on the hook a dozen metres further down the channel. Masochistic fish, garfish. The rod has caught pollock - grey, slightly fatty fish - better than no supper at all, but not much. The rod has also caught rock. Wow, that was a big one. The boys were out in the kayak for 4 hours fighting this gigantic fish until eventually they realised that it was, indeed, truly and honestly ROCK. So at one with the sea bed that there was no separating it.

The epic fight with Rock didn't put them off trying again. Success. A magnificent bass. Promptly taken home, placed reverentially on the barbeque and eaten for supper.

Rabbits

2010-08-06T13:36:00.000+01:00

One advantage - and I really can't think of many - in not having Mpira around any more is that we now have a lot more rabbits in the garden (which is a mixed blessing in itself). Presently, there are youngsters who hang around all the time. One of them in particular - I'll call him Buster, don't ask me why - is very tame. Here he is:

Catch up on...Activity Week!

2010-07-18T21:05:00.001+01:00

I haven't written on here for ....ooh, nearly a month. Got out of the habit, out of touch, out of contact with my computer, out of ideas.... no, not the last actually. Too MANY ideas and not enough time or mental capacity to sort through them. So I think I'll post catch-up points separately - as many as I remember. This is the first one - Activity Week. This is what I wrote for the school magazine, more or less:

Year 5 Activities Week: The Challenge

Challenge :
No 1: get 39 children and 5 adults safely to Manor Adventure Activity Centre in Shropshire. Achieved.
No 2 – from Rory Betley: estimate arrival time accurately, to the nearest three minutes. Achieved by Mrs P, much to Mr V’s chagrin.
No 3: get to sleep before 10.30pm. Achieved by the children. Not by the adults.
No 4: choose healthy menu choices. Hmmm… not many vegetables were seen on some plates, but many apples, bananas and oranges were consumed.
No 5: climb rope ladders, walk/crawl/jump up, along or down aerial walkways, poles, or scrambling nets. Achieved with varying degrees of agility, sometimes accompanied by screams, always with huge determination.
No 6: capsize Mr V. Spectacularly achieved. Did anyone remain dry in the kayaking and canoeing sessions? Hardly. Particularly the occupants of a canoe with a slow leak, which, despite energetic bailing, slowly filled up with water until it, too capsized.
No 7: hit the target in archery or rifle shooting. Achieved – with varying degrees of success.
No 8: work as a team to overcome difficulties in initiative exercises. Interesting. Very. Success required good listening and cooperation.
No 9: build a suitable survival shelter. Year 5 easily convinced their teachers that it would be quite safe to be marooned on a desert island together. The structures the children created were superb. Parents, keep a careful eye on your gardens – you may need to apply for retrospective planning permission.
No. 10: return to Guernsey just in time for the last week of school.
ACHIEVED!

It was an exhausting week - but provided me with so many laughs. And what is better - the children had so much fun, they haven't stopped talking about it since. "That was the best week of my life!" said Harry to his mother. A dry 'Thanks, Harry!' as she mentally reviewed the previous ten years spent at home with his family...and the child who climbed along the aerial walkway, face screwed up in concentration, crying "I can't do it! I can't do it!" as he shimmied rapidly along the bars and then rushed back to the beginning for another go... I love it!

Busy

2010-06-19T22:48:00.000+01:00

Sometimes life is crazy busy. This has been one of those weeks.

Now, don't get me wrong. I don't have a living-life-at-one-hundred-miles-an-hour kind of life. Generally, I think I'm quite well balanced. I'm busy, but there is me-time, my-husband-and-me-time, me-and-friends time and all kinds of other time built in.

But this week - well. School has been busy, though not so much more than normal. In spite of reports, sports days and preparation for going away on activities next week. Oh, and planting up a new part of the garden at school with the help of Floral Guernsey. I've been out in the garden every single lunchtime, as eager children ask to weed, or water, or harvest... wonderful.

So not too much extra - but Jonny and Cat have come home and Richard has worked late shifts. So I've seen him briefly in the morning, then not until after 7 or 8.
By which time Cat and Jonny have gone out. Jonny has been in during the day, but evenings have been full.
So we haven't had any time together as a family this week unless we have all been asleep!

I think that was between midnight and five am.

Sometimes life is crazy busy.

Random doings

2010-06-13T21:34:00.000+01:00

Nearly half way through June. Hmmm. What have I done?

I've spent a LOT of time watching ducks. A pair at the back door this morning, asking for food. They didn't like leftover pastry but gobbled up leftover barbecue rolls. (Just a little - it's not good to give bread to ducks at all, really, but that was all I had.)

Last week, TWO mama ducks. With ducklings. 5 and 8 each. 13 all together.

Then there were the rabbits... they make free of the garden now that Mpira is no longer around to chase them. These two inhabit the back: the tiny one on the front lawn is now almost their size. A few days ago, one was almost at the back doorstep, along with four visiting mallards.

And this afternoon we saw goldfinches...and a moth crawling along the patio, scurrying like an ant...

I've been watching nature a LOT.

Then there have been more evening beach visits:

Port Grat, our 'local' beach - just a few minutes walk from our house. So beautiful.

And Cat came home from uni...even more so.

Bliss.

(And I haven't even mentioned school...so I won't.)

An evening at the beach

2010-05-30T15:33:00.000+01:00

It was unseasonably hot on Monday - 24th May, for the record. I was sitting in the garden, marking exam papers, when the phone rang. Would we like to meet at the beach?

Would we? That was a no-brainer. We jumped on the bikes with a bottle of wine and some crisps, and headed off to meet friends.

It stayed warm - bare arm warm - until well after 9pm. Bliss.

2010-05-30T15:08:00.001+01:00

Richard's birthday a few weeks ago, on the second day of the New Wine Guernsey weekend. We celebrated with a few friends and a good sing song in a local school - over 700 people.

And afternoon tea with a dozen or more of us - scones and lashings of birthday cake.

A few days later Cat and Jonny's present arrived.

Marzipan. Perfect.

Death of a mouse

2010-05-30T14:54:00.004+01:00

After the shenanigans of a few weeks' ago, when I finally discovered that there had been a mouse UNDER MY BED, chewing at my door, I decided I needed to put poison down. I'd tried a trap for weeks and weeks, baited with peanut butter or chocolate, but it was obviously an abnormal mouse as it didn't go for either. (Friends have been catching a mouse a day for the last three weeks using Cadbury's chocolate fingers. I feel there should be an advertising link in here, though I'm not sure it would be a useful one for Cadbury's.) And I stepped on it one morning, too - luckily it was facing the other way so my toes escaped harm.

So there's poison under the bed - where the mouse no longer goes, judging by the absence of droppings - and poison near the back door, under the bird seed. We suspect the bird seed is the major attraction.

I walked in the back door last Saturday to see this:

One very poorly mouse.

I did feel bad. He is really sweet. (It must be a he or we would have been overrun by now.) Then I reminded myself about the sleepless nights and the mouse droppings in the cupboards.

So I covered him - after adjuring him to stand still so I could take a photo - with an empty ice cream container. And left him for Richard to find.

When Richard arrived home, the mouse looked at him hopefully for a second, twitching its whiskers, before relapsing into the doldrums.

I will gloss over what happened next, save only to say that the mouse is now in Mouse Heaven. I hope. Because he was, really, quite sweet.

Keeping romance alive in unobtrusive ways.

2010-05-26T14:38:00.000+01:00

I read, occasionally, a blog called The Generous Wife. Sometimes there are just a few little reminders of how not to take my husband for granted.

Life offers those reminders too. Conversations in the staff room when people complain about having to do a 'blue' job. ('Blue' means jobs that the man is supposed to do: like cleaning out gutters. 'Pink' is for ladies' jobs - like cooking. Self-explanatory once you know. I think.)

We share our jobs out pretty much. I don't like it if Richard has emptied the dishwasher more times than I have, or has hung washing out twice in a row. It doesn't seem fair, even though he tends to have more 'at home' time than I do. He still does an awful lot for our marriage which I don't touch - accounts, car maintenance, gardening...Occasionally I forget myself and start complaining...ungrateful.

But Richard often does little things which pass me by - I take them for granted. The cup of coffee he brings me every morning (I was so tired today I slept through it - cold by the time I woke, but I was warmed by the thought). Getting my bike out of the garage for me so it is ready just to hop on to when I am running late. Meeting up at lunchtime on his day off.

Last week was just the best, though. I was on a school trip and had mentioned we might be stopping at a particular cafe/public toilets for the children. In the end, we didn't have to, but he cycled up there for a solitary cup of coffee, sitting outside in the sun in the hope he might see me.

That is just so romantic, it just melts me. I'm still smiling at the thought.

And, although his trip was in vain, at least he had a lovely half hour at a beach cafe. Some compensation.

facebook

2010-05-15T20:21:00.000+01:00

Much has been written about internet networking: facebook, twitter and the like. I'm just going to add my bit.

Facebook is like one big gossipfest. Useful, but also designed to make those not 'in' feel 'out'. It's particularly bad for teenagers - facebook promotes the one-upmanship and putdowns which so many suffer from.

That makes me angry. Life is difficult enough in adolescence. Why can't people just be NICE, REAL and HONEST?

There we are. I've said my bit.

Of sorrow, grief and loss...

2010-05-09T10:58:00.001+01:00

I haven't had the energy to write for a few weeks now. Missing Mpira too much. And there have been other sudden deaths and disasters of people in my life. Not as close, but Mpira was, after all, 'just a dog', although to us he was much more than that and has left a huge gap.

My sorrow this time has been less for myself but more for the families of a dear friend who has disappeared, a child who is terminally ill... what tragedies these are for those closest. Touching me.

Such loss seems harder to cope with as I grow older. ? Surely it should be easier to cope with life experiences like these? Surely?

Overrun

2010-04-28T14:40:00.004+01:00

Overrun with livestock. Well, not really. It just seems like it.

First, a few days after Mpira died, a duck appeared - with 15 ducklings. Which rapidly began to decrease: first one drowned in the pond, which I wasn't too sad about; after all, if a duck can't swim, it doesn't deserve to survive. You have to think of the survival of the race of Ducks - no good encouraging the continuation of genes which encourage drowning, if you're a duck.

Then there were 14. Mama Duck took them on a walk one morning and lost one on the way, returning with 13.

Then there were none. No duck, no ducklings. A drake arrived in the garden and started harrassing her: despite our best efforts to chase him off, we couldn't be there 24/7. So she took off. Not literally - the ducklings couldn't fly, having only vestigial wings which they couldn't even flap.

Now we have the odd drake - very odd. And the odd pair - also odd. No eggs, no ducklings, no apparent purpose in life. They don't even take a purposeful interest in the pond - it's more the 'oh, I say, a pond, we might as well make a perfunctory splash just for ducks' sake' approach.

Rabbits, now. Mpira just LOVED chasing rabbits. Nothing pleased him more than to take off at top speed after these interlopers.

News must have sped round the warren, because they were there the very next morning. Two large, fat, lolloping rabbits, lumbering round the lawn in the early morning. They've moved on now: to the next door field, where they gaze at us over the wall, unfazed now there is no terrier to see them off. Instead, there is a tiny baby bunny which sits, completely unafraid, munching away, taking no notice of us as we walk to the cars and back again.

Oher rodents too. The rats which Mpira loved to harrass, screaming up to them and then pulling up short with a bounce which set him rocking on all four paws, like a car which has jammed the brakes on, rocking on its springs. They are out on the lawn under the bird feeder in bright daylight - no worries, no cares...

And the MICE. I didn't mind the odd glimpse of a furry body dashing for the outdoors - they didn't seem to be eating anything. We did, however, block up the tiny hole which we thought might be an entrance. They retaliated by gnawing away, seemingly outside our bedroom door, ALL NIGHT. Clever, too - they stopped as soon as we sat up in bed, so it was hard to determine exactly where they were.

Livestock. Wild life. Overrun.

Not enough words

2010-04-18T16:55:00.003+01:00

Mpira.
Born 2.9.1999. Born into our family 2.5.2000. Left us for ever 12.4.2010.

There are not enough words to describe that dog.

No longer

No longer
do I shut all the doors when I go out, leaving you
lying sentinel at the door, ready to greet the postman.

No longer
do I return to see you, gazing raptly through the window as you
perch atop the sofa back, keeping watch for our return.

No longer
am I greeted with shrieks of pleasure, a frantic
waggling of tail and body, ecstatic at my homecoming.

Instead I live with
a silent and empty house
a sore and grieving heart
a desolation of spirit.

Mpira

2010-04-15T10:26:00.008+01:00

Mpira died on Monday.
Heartbroken is too trite a word for how we feel.
For now, I'm just collecting poems here...and encouragement for mourning here:

Catharine put this first poem on facebook:

I Cannot Lie by Your Fire ~ (by Robinson Jeffers - American poet)

I've changed my ways a little; I cannot now
Run with you in the evenings along the shore,
Except in a kind of dream; and you, if you dream a moment
You see me there.

So leave awhile the paw marks on the front door
Where I used to scratch to go out or in,
And you'd soon open; leave on the kitchen floor
The marks of my drinking pan.

I cannot lie by your fire as I used to do
On the warm stone
Nor at the foot of your bed; no, all the nights through
I lie alone.

But your kind thought has laid me less than six feet
Outside your window where firelight so often plays,
And where you sit and read - and I fear often grieving for me
Every night your lamplight lies on my place.

You, man and woman, live so long, it is hard
To think of you ever dying.
A little dog would get tired, living so long.
I hope that when you are lying

Under the ground like me your lives will appear
As good and joyful as mine.
No, dears, that's too much hope: you are not so well cared for
As I have been.

And never have known the passionate undivided
Fidelities that I knew,
Your minds are perhaps too active, too many-sided..
But to me you were true.

You were never masters, but friends. I was your friend.
I loved you well, and was loved. Deep love endures
To the end and far past the end. If this is my end,
I am not lonely, I am not afraid. I am still yours.

I think God will have prepared everything for our perfect happiness. If it takes my dog being there [in Heaven], I believe he'll be there. Rev. Billy Graham

For the soul of every living thing is in the hand of God. Job 12:10

I lie belly-up
In the sunshine, happier than
You ever will be.

Today I sniffed
Many dog butts — I celebrate
By kissing your face.

I sound the alarm!
Paperboy — come to kill us all —
Look! Look! Look! Look! Look!

I sound the alarm!
Garbage man — come to kill us all —
Look! Look! Look! Look! Look!

I lift my leg and
Whiz on each bush. Hello, Spot —
Sniff this and weep.

I Hate my choke chain —
Look, world, they strangle me! Ack
Ack Ack Ack Ack Ack!

Sleeping here, my chin
On your foot — no greater bliss — well,
Maybe catching cats.

Look in my eyes and
Deny it. No human could
Love you as much I do.

Anonymous

If it should be....

If it should be that I grow frail and weak,
and pain should keep me from my sleep,
then you must do what must be done,
for we know this last battle can't be won.

You will be sad, I understand,
but don't let grief then stay your hand,
for this day, more than the rest,
your love and friendship must stand the test.

We've had so many happy years,
what is to come can hold no fears.
Would you want me to suffer? So,
when the time comes, please let me go.

Take me where my needs they'll tend,
only stay with me until the end,
and hold me firm and speak to me,
until my eyes no longer see.

It is a kindness that you do to me,
although my tail it's last has waved,
from pain and suffering I have been saved.

Do not grieve, it should be you,
who must decide this thing to do.
We've been so close, we two these years,
Don't let your heart hold any tears.

Author unknown

Old men miss many dogs. Steve Allen

If there is a heaven, it's certain our animals are to be there. Their lives become so interwoven with our own, it would take more than an archangel to detangle them. Pam Brown

Not the least hard thing to bear when they go from us, these quiet friends, is that they carry away with them so many years of our own lives. John Galsworthy

I guess you don't really own a dog, you rent them, and you have to be thankful that you had a long lease. Joe Garagiola

If you have a dog, you will most likely outlive it; to get a dog is to open yourself to profound joy and, prospectively, to equally profound sadness. Marjorie Garber

To call him a dog hardly seems to do him justice, though inasmuch as he had four legs, a tail, and barked, I admit he was, to all outward appearances. But to those who knew him well, he was a perfect gentleman. Hermione Gingold

There is sorrow enough in the natural way
From men and women to fill our day;
But when we are certain of sorrow in store
Why do we always arrange for more?
Brothers and sisters I bid you beware
Of giving your heart to a dog to tear. Rudyard Kipling

The one best place to bury a good dog is in the heart of his master. Ben Hur Lampman

There's a stone I had made for Luke at the top of the hill road, where the pasture opens wide and the setting sun highlights the words carved into its face. "That'll do, Luke, that'll do." The words are said to working dogs all over the world when the chores are done and the flock is settled: "That'll do dog, come home now, your work is done." Luke's work is done too. He took my heart and ran with it, and he's running still, fast and strong, a piece of my heart bound up with his, forever. Patricia McConnell For the Love of a Dog

I feel about my dogs now, and all the dogs I had prior to this, the way I feel about children — they are that important to me. When I have lost a dog I have gone into a mourning period that lasted for months. Mary Tyler Moore

I came across a photograph of him not long ago... his black face, the long snout sniffing at something in the air, his tail straight and pointing, his eyes flashing in some momentary excitement. Looking at a faded photograph taken more than forty years before, even as a grown man, I would admit I still missed him. Willie Morris

The dog of your boyhood teaches you a great deal about friendship, and love, and death: Old Skip was my brother. They had buried him under our elm tree, they said — yet this wasn't totally true. For he really lay buried in my heart. Willie Morris, My Dog Skip

Cook and dine with comfortable friends

2010-04-12T10:57:00.000+01:00

We had such a fun evening last Friday. Went to friends for a ‘cook and dine’ evening. One girl showed us how to prepare the starter (avocado, bacon and mushrooms, toasted with cheese on top), another the main dish – absolutely scrummy cardamom chicken, creamy with coconut but just enough chilli bite. Pudding was ‘apple crump’ – softened bramleys with a crumble mixture on top, made by adding melted butter to flour and sugar and then crumbled over and baked to form a crisp topping. I haven’t had this since I was in Sweden, where it is made by spreading the flour and sugar and then layering butter over, scraped off the block with a cheese slicer. I’ve never managed to do this successfully so was glad to see Tess’s method.

So we all pitched in, peeling, chopping, slicing, grating – with several glasses of wine to help. It was huge fun.

Afterwards, we had Martyn’s special coffee: locally roasted and ground coffee beans (Bean 14) produced on the island, with whipped frothy milk, so stiff it was like creamy soufflé and then thimblefuls of Amaretto di Saronno, so delicious it was like drinking chocolate almonds.

Then, suddenly, it was 11.30. I didn’t want to go home – see my post over at Words from God for Today.

Marvellous. Wonderful.

Even Richard is keen on the idea of Further Advanced Restaurant Training Sessions.

Oscar and Bob...or should it be Bob and Oscar?

2010-04-04T09:08:00.010+01:00

I have been struggling with pride, recently. Too much of it. It seems that everywhere I turn, I am reminded that 'God opposes the proud, but gives grace to the humble.' Yet one thing I am proud of. I am proud to know Bob Rasmussen and to be able to count him and his wife Lyn as friends. I am constantly amazed at the wisdom he writes: accessible, economical, cutting straight and TRUE. Truth. Here's the link to his post about Good Friday.

And I am proud to have had the privilege of being a member of Nairobi Chapel, pastored by Oscar Muriu. Recently, he spoke at Urbana, Intervarsity's student conference in the USA in December 2009. I have rarely heard a preacher to equal him for truth and clarity.

I am proud.

PS - a very important PS, a reminder to myself, though I doubt I'll forget: I saw a trailer for The Visitor on Bob's website. It speaks of befriending the stranger, the prisoner...the people Jesus spent time with. The people I should be spending time with.

Yet another goody...

2010-04-03T14:25:00.000+01:00

Yet another goody from A Little This~A Little That... by Dana

A Christian's Garden
First, plant five rows of peas:

Preparedness
Promptness
Perseverance
Politeness
Prayer.

Next to them plant three rows of squash:

Squash Gossip
Squash Criticism
Squash Indifference.

Then five rows of lettuce:

Let us be Faithful
Let us be Unselfish
Let us be Loyal
Let us be Truthful
Let us Love One Another.

And no garden is complete without turnips:

Turn up for Church
Turn up with a Smile
Turn up with Determination.

Rules for living

2010-04-03T14:16:00.001+01:00

I found these on Dana Bailey's blog. Wonderful.

President Garfield’s Principles

Never be idle.
Make few promises.
Always speak the truth.
Live within your income.
Never speak evil of anyone.
Keep good company or none.
Live up to your engagements.
Never play games of chance.
Drink no intoxicating drinks.
Good character is above everything else.
Keep your own secrets if you have any.
Never borrow if you can possibly help it.
Do not marry until you are able to support a wife.
When you speak to a person look into his eyes.
Save when you are young to spend when you are old.
Never run into debt unless you see a way out again.
Good company and good conversation are the sinews of virtue.
Your character cannot be essentially injured except by your own acts.
If anybody speaks evil of you let your life be so that no one believes him.
When you retire at night think over what you have done during the day.
If your hands cannot be employed usefully, attend to the culture of your mind.

Of blogging, and writing, and facebook

2010-03-30T11:10:00.001+01:00

The trouble with blogging is that I am hugely economical with words.
It's not bloggings fault. It's my brain. It jumps ahead of my thoughts so much that I move from A to C and assume that B is understood.

Now, that works sometimes.

It didn't work with my facebook post. Because now I've turned myself inside out, I am wondering why I haven't friend requested my friend to be my Facebook friend. I don't usually request friends, ignore friend suggestions, and have just a few dozen Facebook friends. I like to keep life simple.

But that's no excuse in this case?

Hmmm. Comments from short-cutting, leap-frogging, web-tangled brain.

Facebook?

2010-03-30T11:04:00.001+01:00

Facebook is an odd phenomenon. I'm sure many others have philosophized about it far more eloquently than I will. I just need to put some thoughts down.

It's great for getting to know what people who you are not particularly close to or don't care about so much are doing.
It's great for getting to know what people you DO care about are doing.

But sometimes, it's not great.

It's not great when a friend who you think is a friend isn't actually your Facebook friend.
It's not great when you get to see what that friend is doing through other friends.

So here's the question: is your good friend - your heart-close, sharing-of-the-joys-and-sorrows-of-life-friend - still your friend in the same way if you AREN'T Facebook friends?

Facebook friends may be friends - or acquaintances - or even complete strangers, just 'friends' of 'friends' of 'friends'... And now I'm writing the word friend so often that it is beginning to lose meaning for me.

Is this what is happening with my friend who is not my Facebook friend? Is our relationship beginning to lose meaning...?

Laughter at school

2010-03-24T21:24:00.002Z

I guess this will be my last post from school for a couple of weeks. I just had to do it, though, before I forget.

We've been playing 'Taboo' a lot recently. The game where someone has to guess a word which the rest of the team describe, without using certain words.
The first word was 'Teacher'.
"It's what Mrs Pollard is!"
The guess: "A man!"
Screams of merriment. One child laughed hysterically for five minutes.
So did I.

The second word wasn't much better: 'Dolls'.
They tried really hard with this one, without success. Then one bright spark said: "We don't like them."
The guess: "Teachers!"

I can't be serious about teaching any more. I really can't.

PS It wasn't quite the last observation. I asked the children to tidy their desks this afternoon...so two boys have emptied them completely and taken EVERYTHING home. I wonder what books they intend to write in next term...?

Here we go again...

2010-03-23T09:14:00.002Z

Last week of term. LAST WEEK OF TERM!!!!

No, I'm not that much out of control. Things are pretty calm in my classroom, actually. Projects have been finished without any hectic nagging, the room is tidy - I'm even redoing a display. Which reminds me... it's staring me in the face, shouting 'take me down, take me down' - I'm only half way through stripping a board of children's work before I put the new stuff up, and somehow I'd forgotten about it.

But that's symptomatic of everything else. I get up in such a rush in the morning that I only have time for the bare essentials - and that doesn't include breakfast (that comes later, when I have a break at school). And what's bothering me is what the 'bare essentials' are.

Washing. Brushing teeth and hair. Moisturiser. Clothes. Earrings and necklace. Cycling to school - essential exercise.

Where is my time with God? If I'm lucky, I read a little from the Bible or from a book out of my pile of 'good reading'. As a church we're studying Rick Warren's 40 Days of Community, so I try to keep up with that as well. But when do I do that? 'If I'm lucky', between necklace and cycling.

Priorities are wrong. Luck doesn't come into it. I just need to drag myself out of bed just a few moments earlier. That's all.