Pollards' end of year report...

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: Speaking and Listening: all of us are very well practised in this area, especially as we have been blessed with (what seems like) millions of visitors over the year. Writing: just Angie, really.  Writes emails. Blogs at http://www.mamampira.blogspot.com . Cat also blogs occasionally at www.catatcap.blogspot.com ; Jonny tweets.  Richard just reads.(see ICT comment).

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

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

ICT: We are thankful for computers and communication, enjoying the blessings of finding out information and communicating with friends. Among various other bits of knowledge, the Internet has been invaluable for helping Richard discover his intolerance 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 a salary. We are also happy to say that, by the grace of God, we were able to support and love one another with more virtues than we knew we possessed. And with more than a little help from our friends at church.

PE: surfing and kayaking are still our main sporting pursuits. Achievement: J excellent, R good, C quite good, A doesn’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. Legs don’t reach the pedals.

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

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

Art: Jonny is still amazing at drawing. Angie makes cards. Cat’s creations tend to be mostly culinary. Note: we skipped the Photography module this year: the photos on this page are the only ones available. We WERE altogether as a family occasionally, honestly. Just didn’t record it.

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

Design Technology, aka cooking. Glad to say we have all improved – except Angie, whose skills seem to have deteriorated. Blame it on teaching.

Drama: none, thankfully.

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

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

Pickle's capers

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...

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...?

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

It's been quite hard becoming a puppy parent 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 puppy training quite assiduously.  Pickle's report card might look like this:

Response to name:

Attainment: A*

Effort: Superb

Pickle enjoys attention and responds immediately when her name is called. 

Come here!

Attainment: B

Effort: Satisfactory

So far, so good. This command has not yet been thoroughly tested in situations of high interest ie in wide open spaces where there are unlimited opportunities for interesting smells.

Digging holes.

Attainment: A

Effort: Excellent

Pickle has demonstrated tremendous energy in acquiring this skill. She has excelled in creating holes of both width 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 fill in 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 art of greeting. This should consist of sitting politely in front of the family member or guest, then waiting to be stroked or hugged. Unfortunately, although Pickle is able to sit quite beautifully, she has not so far proved herself willing to accede to requests to 'sit' in situations where she would rather leap about in a hysterical manner. We look forward to seeing her develop greater self-control.

Sitting.

Attainment: A*

Effort: Excellent

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

Fetch 

Attainment: A

Effort: Excellent

Although she does not yet 'give' on command, Pickle readily retrieves a ball thrown for her. She is beginning to learn that releasing the ball to the handler results in further pleasurable games of 'fetch'.

Phew.

Better a little dust in the corners...

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, His faithfulness.

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

News from the Pickle front

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

Pickle is a...

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?

Pickle's present

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...

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...

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

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...

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.

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!