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.

First day of school

Back to school - first day, long day, so by 3pm I was already inclined to mild hysteria when this happened:

Child's question:"Why do we get less holidays in a private school? (we went back a day early) when it is for the smarter people and we pay money for it!!!

I was unable to speak. Fortunately, someone else put him right: we do actually get longer holidays. I was beyond explaining by that time.

PS Our school is NOT for 'the smarter people'!!

Renewing and reenergising

I took some rather strange 'time out' on Saturday morning. Strange in that 'time out' usually means, for me, a quiet time: reading, walking, writing, reflecting, doing something on my own. This was spent with a dozen other women.

We gathered in my sitting room for breakfast. I provided the coffee, the croissants, the fruit and the juice. They provided the bubbly enthusiasm, the generous love, the warm companionship. We chatted for a couple of hours, reflecting on our lives and what it means to be a woman of God in the workplace. We gained support and encouragement from each other. We had 'time out'.

Renewed and reenergised.

Operation 24XMASEVE

It’s fun having a daughter at home – even if she IS working her socks off to earn money to pay her way through uni. Here are the emails we exchanged on Christmas Eve…

From: Pollard Catharine
Sent: 24 December 2008 11:10
To: R & A Pollard
Subject: Today

Hi Mum,

If you want to come pick me up at 12.30 then that would be fab but if not then i can quite easily get the bus back!

Reply asap por favour!
Xxx

From: R & A Pollard
Sent: 24 December 2008 11:29
To: Pollard Catharine
Subject: Re: Today

Hi daughter

Yes can pick you up at 12.30. No problemo!

Can you walk down to M and S or North Beach car park and give me an exact ETA?

love

Mama


From: Pollard Catharine
Sent: 24 December 2008 11:47
To: R & A Pollard
Subject: Re: Today

Righto!

This is flight commander Perkins speaking to you. Should you choose to accept it, this is your mission:

In the dark, dangerous and turbulent waters of December 24th, a lone survivor of the Christmasomme battle is awaiting your arrival. You will leave HQ at 12.19hrs exactly, navigating the tricky and potentially murderous maze of Guernsaise roads.

Approaching the RV with considerable caution you will first perform a recce to establish the enemy presence. Once confirmed by contacting our helicopters with infrared cameras you will traverse the rocky terrain taking care to avoid the identified danger areas. Note: Dangerous head winds in the form of heavy Christmas shopping traffic might impede safe arrival. Recommend use of laser gun should you encounter any untoward pedestrians, cyclists, motorists, etc but only as a last resort for fear of revealing your precarious position.

Once at the RV, secure the target (lone survivor etc) and screech away. Abandon caution when leaving the premises, and drive away, all guns blazing, blowing a few things up just to make that last shot of billowing clouds of flame and dark black swirls of soot extra special.

RV: North Beach
ETA: 12.33

This message will self destruct in three seconds....


From: R & A Pollard
Sent: 24 December 2008 12:01
To: Pollard Catharine
Subject: Re: Today

I haven't read your instructions yet, but you need to GET A LIFE!!!! or work harder!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

From: Pollard Catharine
Sent: 24 December 2008 12:02
To: R & A Pollard
Subject: Re: Today

Hah haa! Actually, I've just thought RE the ETA - maybe I should email you when I’m done here and then you leave when you get my email as I’m not sure I’ll be finished at 12.30 so don’t want you to wait. Will email in a few minutes.


From: Pollard Catharine
Sent: 24 December 2008 12.06
To: R & A Pollard
Subject: WE HAVE LIFT OFF!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

RV and ETA as before...Operation 24XMASEVE has begun....may the best man win.

She did. She arrived first.

FC

It seems that Feral Chicken is not actually feral, but escaped from some loving family home.
The trouble is, we don't know where.
It hangs around under the bird seeder ALL DAY, scratching away at the lawn. The weather has turned chillier, so the chicken is looking considerably 'fatter' as it fluffs up its feathers against the cold.
Now Richard has started feeding it bird seed.
It clucks appreciately when it sees him.
It'll be wanting to come into the house next.

Tiredness

In conversation with friends tonight, I was trying to remember a certain word. I know exactly what it means. I can think of other words which mean the same. But I can't bring to mind this particular word.

It stumped one of my friends as well. Both of us knew exactly what we were thinking of. Neither of us could remember.

I'll probably remember at 1 o'clock in the morning, or some such time.

I can't remember because I'm tired. It's activity week at school. I'm enjoying being with different children from normal. It's good fun. But it's VERY tiring.

Apart from the hectic, full-on atmosphere that comes with being with dozens of active little boys, I've been on my feet, non-stop, for up to six hours or more at a time. Even a cup of coffee, or lunch, has been taken on the run. We've been to Jersey Zoo; scraped glue off hundreds of tiny tiles and then made mosaics with them; run around our medieval castle at dangerous speeds; gone ten-pin bowling; made sand sculptures on the beach.

The weather has been beautiful: hot and sunny, with a strong, cooling breeze.

Much as I've loved this week for it's variety and fun, I'm glad it's Friday tomorrow!

(PS: the word was oxymoron. How simple was that?!)

Gardening – at school

Starting up a Gardening Club at school seemed like a good idea at the time. Plant a few vegetables, let the children see how they grow… there was a large waste area tucked away in a corner which was begging to be planted up.

We started last year, with pumpkins, lettuce, a tomato plant or two, some potatoes we planted in a bucket.

All grew well, with the help of lots of sun and rain, half a dozen eager little boys, and half an hour of my – and their – time once a week.

This year, we have a huge, ploughed up, plot.

Some seeds. The help of two enthusiastic parents. The same number of children. The same amount of my time.

We haven't done too badly so far. We've planted broad beans and peas. Some of the peas and beans have germinated and are growing well. Some have been washed out of the soil by our recent heavy rain – we replanted them today. And some, I fear, have been scoffed by the birds.

We have a banana tree, a couple of beds of annuals, and a patch of geraniums and gazanias. Morning glories and blackeyed Susans starting to climb the fence. Two varieties of potato, each in a bucket of compost. Marrow and pumpkin seedlings.

And still only half an hour of my time, once a week.

I have plans. I have some money to spend to get the garden going well. But I also have a full teaching timetable. And a bucket full of panic over an empty garden.

Danger on the roads

Boy, I live a dangerous life when I cycle. I’m not talking about the traffic, either, though that always has its challenges. It’s the wildlife.

Last night a panther leapt out of the hedge and landed, snarling, on the road a couple of metres in front of me. I expected it to lope on across to the other side, but instead it crouched, glaring at me, ready to spring. I slammed on the brakes, yelling in fear of the impending collision. This galvanised the creature into action. It sprang forward, out of harm’s way, while I cycled swiftly on before it could turn and come after me.

This morning, a pterodactyl skimmed past my face, its fearsome claws just inches from my eyes. Further down the road, I had to slow right down for a pair of enormous water birds, cycling cautiously behind them until I could pick the right moment to overtake. Their beaks snapped angrily as they realised my ankles were no longer within reach. Looking behind me to make sure I was safe, my wheels almost skidded on the still warm remains of a porcupine – a victim of the vicious predators which roam our roads. Giant hornets and oversized mosquitoes stung my unprotected hands and face as I toiled up the final hill.

Okay, I nearly ran over a cat, dodged a low-flying blackbird, had to slow down for a couple of ducks waddling down the lane and saw a squashed hedgehog. And there were a few insects in the air. But who knows what might be round the next corner?

Dog language

Haven't had a post about Mpira for a while, which he reminded me about just now. I've been on the computer all day with one thing or another, and he doesn't think much of it. Hence the heavy sighs and mournful expression.

Not that he can complain. He's had his walk. It's lucky he can't read, because he knows that walk is translated as:

"I'll just take the dog out"; "I'll take the dog for a w a l k"(spelt phonetically); "time to take the dog for a WALK" (spelt in letter names, hence the capitals); and even the sentence "I'm wondering about…" elicits the walk response.

How does he know? He comes and watches when I put my trainers on; but never my boots or shoes. He follows me if I go upstairs (which is where the socks are kept, and everyone knows you can't wear trainers without socks). He sits and looks at me, then looks pointedly at the door but refuses to go outside.

The dog tricks are coming along a treat as well. I got him to do them today for the prospective pleasure of having a cardboard tube to tear to pieces. It's not all about food.

Back to work

I know I shouldn't be tired first thing on a Monday morning - but I am! The weekend was so busy that I feel I need a bit more of a rest!

Yet Saturday morning was great. Up early to grab a hired floor polisher and off to church. 50 of us gathered to spring clean. This hadn't been done for years, and in the meantime we had built an annexe - a church centre - on the side which had just been finished, so there was dust everywhere. The real heroes were the two youngsters who tackled the debris outside, collecting a bucketful of concrete bits before sluicing the cobblestones clean. Without them, the church would have been dirty again within minutes as the dirt was tracked in again.

We had great fun. Chatted to people we hadn't caught up with for ages, moved furniture, found dust in places no one had ever been before... and then afterwards stopped for coffee and cake.

We'd called it a Praise and Power (Cleaning) Party. Some of us gathered together in the quiet of the centre. It is a haven of peace, quiet and full of calm. The perfect place for reflection and prayer.

Friends again!

I can't believe how blessed I am this week. I have just realised that I have met up with friends every single day since last Saturday, in spite of going back to work on Monday. Not just casual friends either, but people who I can be completely real with.

There is nothing, nothing as good as getting your elbows on the table over a meal, and putting the world to rights. Bringing God into our conversation, and our concerns and joys to Him in prayer.

Thank you Renee, Jane, Ian and Sarah!

Friendship in the rain

What a day yesterday. We were blessed with rain for hours on end. Everytime I went outside, it was pouring skywater. I cycled to school, dried off my clothes, cycled home, dried off my clothes, cycled out to friends for supper, dried off my clothes, cycled home... by that time it had stopped raining.

Inside, though, there was nothing but warmth. My day was spent learning art techniques of block-making and printing, getting wonderfully messy. It is amazing to learn something new, especially for one whose best efforts at drawing result in stick figures. Yet my 'arty' efforts turned out all right: my fingers seemed to know what to do even though my head was clueless, absolutely devoid of imagination.

The evening was full of fun, laughter, restorative chat, ending in prayer. A washing of my soul which had nothing to do with water and everything to do with encouragement and affirmation.

More than friends: sisters

An add on to my notes about my recent reunion in Ireland last week. Here is a photo of what we look like now. 27 years have been and gone since we originally met.

I have searched and searched for my group photo of how we all looked then: I have it firmly in my mind's eye but cannot physically find it. We spent our days together remembering everyone else in the group, but without the photo I cannot be sure that we have named everyone. I hope we have. Wouldn't it be awful if FOUR people had all completely forgotten a person's existence?

Cath, Ann, Mary and I at the foot of Croagh Patrick - Ireland's holy mountain, on the top of which St Patrick fasted for forty days and nights. Thousands of pilgrims climb it every year in July.

At the foot of Croagh Patrick, overlooking Clew Bay.

Those sisters

I became used to being called 'sister' in Africa, where that's women are: sisters, regardless of blood ties. That experience stretched my thinking way beyond my own tiny family. I gained a new understanding and appreciation of the friendships I had with other women.

The three I spent the weekend with are really special sisters. Some of us come from families where we have several blood sisters and female cousins (and brothers); others, few. We'd shared life together many years ago and know each other as well as - or better than - we do our own families. We don't want to lose that closeness, so we meet up regularly.

It was so relaxing to back in the heart of 'family' that the stress rolled off me. I had been keeping going with a huge exertion of human strength and prayer. My life hasn't been majorly stressy - no life-shattering events - yet the constant niggle of tiny difficulties had been pressing on me for some time. It was such a relief to be so completely away from work and so engulfed by such unconditional love and acceptance that tiredness then hit me, hard. I spent a lot of time quietly yawning and catnapping!

I had caught up by Sunday, though. And in the meantime we had caught up with each others' lives. We'd shared happiness and grief, laughter and tears, hopes and failures. We reminisced endlessly. We were glad to be together again.

Special times

So where am I headed off to?

This weekend has been planned for a few months now. I'm meeting up with three very special women - my sisters in Christ. They are closer to me than sisters. We've known each other for decades, since we first lived together for a few weeks before departing to work in Africa. We have had a rare opportunity to live in close community with each other, sharing every detail of our lives. A closeness developed which has spanned thousands of miles and years of neglect.

We've survived weddings, and a divorce. We've survived not being asked to weddings (there were good reasons for that) and not knowing about the imminent divorce until it was too late. (We would have loved to have helped - but there were good reasons for being kept out of that, as well.) We are so trusting with each other that we live above hurt or injured feelings. We love each other deeply.

We are possibly more brutally honest with each other than with anyone else - even our husbands. We speak the truth immediately, no holds barred, completely secure.

This weekend, I'm taking two flights and travelling hundreds of miles to be with them. I'd go a lot further than that. It will be a very special time. I can't wait.

Crosswords

Not cross words - on the contrary, it's a good family activity - but crosswords. I like our local paper's cryptic crossword.

But why is it that sometimes the clues - clever though they might be - are mega easy, whereas at others I just don't 'get it'? Even when I do, the workings of the compiler's mind seem a bizarre mystery.

Has anyone one compiled a list of compilers' mental profiles which could then be used as labels? Then I'd know that the Guernsey Press, the Daily Telegraph and the Glaswegian Chronicle all host crosswords of the kind that I can solve.

Dancing at Inopportune Moments

I went shopping, briefly, on my way home today. It's not a shop I go to often: apart from being too big (I can't find what I want) it has very annoying music - the kind where you know there is a beat and a tune but it's very hard to identify either.

Yet, standing in the queue at the till, I suddenly felt this tremendous urge to start dancing. Just for the joy of it - for the crack, as the Irish would say. It wasn't just a thought, an "oh, it would be nice to dance to this track" idea. The music was still unrecognizable, nothing so familiar that it sparked off memories of parties and discos. My feet wanted to break into the steps of a jig or a foxtrot - they didn't care, just something quick; my shoulders started twitching; my whole body just wanted to start dancing.

I didn't give in. I was on my own - no one to have a laugh with; I am in my fifties and didn't really fancy making a complete spectacle of myself; and I was VERY conscious that the music was such rubbish that I would have looked absolutely extraordinary.

But, even now, I still want to break out. There's a bubble of joy inside me that just wants to bounce.

Something to do with the kids coming home tomorrow? Wahey!