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  Those razor sharp little nippers have been replaced by proper  Big Dog teeth.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.