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.
Thursday 30 December 2010
Wednesday 22 December 2010
Words words words fun fun fun!
Saturday 18 December 2010
Presents
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.
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.
Friday 17 December 2010
Waiting
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.
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.
Saturday 4 December 2010
Those Borden Boys!
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!
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.
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.
Monday 29 November 2010
Moon
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.
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.
Thursday 25 November 2010
I am easily amused...
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?
?? !!!
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?
?? !!!
Tuesday 16 November 2010
Teaching
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.
Saturday 13 November 2010
Laughter
"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!
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
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.
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.
Friday 5 November 2010
Cooking
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.
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...
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.
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.
Tuesday 2 November 2010
I cried this morning.
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.
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.
Saturday 30 October 2010
A random half term break...
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!
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!
Monday 25 October 2010
Joys and bittersweetness
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.
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...
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.
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.
Monday 11 October 2010
Autumn madness
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.
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.
Sunday 26 September 2010
Autumn
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.
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.
Friday 24 September 2010
Back into school
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.
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.
Wednesday 22 September 2010
How a week becomes less sad...
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.
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.
Saturday 18 September 2010
Simple pleasures
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.
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.
Monday 6 September 2010
How can a week be so sad when there is so much to be happy about?
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.
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,
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
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.
Tuesday 31 August 2010
Cake sale!
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.
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
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...
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
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.
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.
Monday 9 August 2010
Graduation!
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.
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.
Friday 6 August 2010
Frisbee, swingball...
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
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.
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
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:
Sunday 18 July 2010
Catch up on...Activity Week!
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!
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!
Saturday 19 June 2010
Busy
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.
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.
Sunday 13 June 2010
Random doings
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.)
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.
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:
(And I haven't even mentioned school...so I won't.)
Sunday 30 May 2010
An evening at the beach
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.
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.
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.
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.
Death of a mouse
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.
Wednesday 26 May 2010
Keeping romance alive in unobtrusive ways.
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.
(Updating this to link in with The Time-Warp Wife)
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.
(Updating this to link in with The Time-Warp Wife)
Saturday 15 May 2010
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.
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.
Sunday 9 May 2010
Of sorrow, grief and loss...
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?
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?
Wednesday 28 April 2010
Overrun
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.
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.
Sunday 18 April 2010
Not enough words
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.
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.
Thursday 15 April 2010
Mpira
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
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