Back home

Back in Guernsey, we were met at the airport by dear Wendy with a 'care package' of groceries and a meal ready for tired and hungry travellers. So thoughtful, like Renee, her dear mother. Rosanne (Wendy's daughter) was on our flight from Gatwick and had texted her mother, so Wendy was forewarned. Blown away by her love, so blessed. And our dear friend from our home group was there to meet us and take us home...

We then endured two days of torrential rain which lasted, on one of the days, the whole day. Summer in Guernsey = winter in New Zealand. Fortunately, the sun has now come out, the grass has dried off and we are able to get out and about again.

In the meantime: jet lag got over, unpacking completed, washing done, tidying up begun, emails caught up on....

And today: dog walk, swim, cycle to church, cycle up the hill to Fermain, cycle all the way down to Fermain Bay then push the bike all the way up again....

....for a lovely long catch-up lunch with these dear friends:

Ruth, Wendy, Graham, Nicholas...only missing dearest Renee.

In praise of Richard

Back just over three weeks now, which has passed in a blur: twelve hours after arriving, I was back in school for the start of a new term. A new class. And a new year group. And a new curriculum. And a new form of planning. And... well, let's just say it's the usual start of the school year madness.

I work every night and weekend. Not all the time, but a lot. My brain is brimming over with 'oughts' and 'musts' and 'could do betters'...

Life isn't so hectic for Richard - but that's a different story. Instead, it has dawned on me just how much he has done lately.

Shopping done.
Washing done, hung up to dry and then put away.
Dog walked. Frequently.
Gardening kept on top of.
Errands run, which I didn't get time to do myself.
Supper cooked, delicious smells greeting me as I walked in the door.
And a cup of tea made for a weary wife...

So much love and kindness.

Christmas

Christmas Day comes rushing towards me. School is now finished, and I have a blessed free week to catch up on all the things which have gone neglected over the last term, clearing up the detritus of a teacher's life.
Blessed week.
I have learnt not to stress with a 'to do' list. Yes, I make the list, I prioritise, yet if something doesn't 'get done' then perhaps it didn't NEED to get done in the first place. Perhaps 'it' was one of life's little optional extras. Nice if it happens, not the end of the world if it doesn't.
Because there are indeed only few things in life that are really important. Like breathing. Loving. Laughing.
This coming Saturday is important. Saturday evening Cat and Jonny return home, landing within minutes of each other, flights permitting.
Saturday afternoon my dear friend Kareena brings her dog Howie to play with Pickle. Best of friends, these two little dogs know each other's names.
Saturday morning friends gather here for breakfast. A brief pause in their Christmas rush, a reconnecting.
Loving. Laughing.
So I thought I might show these cute little films which have been doing the rounds. Coincidentally, they are from a church in Auckland and Cat has seen a live showing of this year's offering at their Christmas celebration GLOW.
Look at this fresh take on an everlasting story.


What I love most about these brilliant films is the last line of the credits: BASED ON A TRUE STORY.
Indeed.

PS Tammy Maltby has some great insights about what is IMPORTANT about Christmas. It's Jesus. Obvious, but we forget it.

feelings

people like me
do not wear our hearts on sleeves.
our feelings are buried deep within.

we do not fuss or shout
or crave attention.
our feelings are buried deep within.

we endure quietly
stolidly ploughing life's furrows.
holding on with patient determination.

that does not mean
we like to be ignored.
we too  appreciate kindness.

acts of love sink deep.
are held in those quiet places
deep within.

Valentine's Day

Valentine's Day. Not a day I normally celebrate. I didn't grow up with it and, during my many years living in Kenya, didn't experience the commercial reminders. 
Generally, it passed me by apart from one memorable year when I was at college. I received a wonderful, intriguing, poetic Valentine in the morning post. I was mildly flattered and mildly curious until I arrived at my first lecture. My best friend Sue had received an identical card with a slightly different poetic message. Obviously from the same person - first problem. Sue was married - second, major problem. Her husband had been rather upset, giving her the silent treatment. Although Sue was relieved to find that her card was evidently a joke, nevertheless she was desperate to find out who had sent it. I was so desperate for her I don't even remember if I was disappointed that my card wasn't 'for real'.
We spent the day asking EVERYONE who knew both of us if they had sent it, to the obvious amusement of our lecturers. (Yes, we were young. And giddy.)
At the end of the day, Sue trailed home apprehensively. She and her husband divorced a few years later.
(Not because of the Valentine's card, though. Sue eventually discovered, after meeting two other friends  - one a neighbour, one from her husband's course - that they had also received identical cards. Her husband had sent them - having only managed not to explode with amusement at her consternation by keeping silent.)
This year, as I catch up reading some wonderful blogs over the half term holiday from school, I find Valentine's Day messages everywhere.
I liked this one: a reminder that many men are not at all naturally romantic. I like that she reminds us it's not about us and how romantic our husband/boyfriend should be towards us when she says: "There are no exceptions in the Bible where it says on Birthdays, Mother's Day and Valentine's Day we have permission to be selfish and self-centered."  
We don't need to believe what the media tells us. Most men just don’t have ‘romantic’ bones. Their flashes of romantic inspiration are few and far between. My husband veers from absolutely no romantic gestures at all to, every few years, doing something ‘over the top’.  Never on Valentine's Day, but on our wedding anniversary. 
The most memorable - the one that still takes my breath away when I remember it - was when we were living in Kenya while the children were young. We had been married twelve years. He had given up his flying career to work voluntarily in an orphanage and I was teaching. So not a lot of money going into our bank account every month.  Somehow - I'm still not sure whether this was already arranged or if he managed to engineer it - our children were invited to two separate sleepovers for the weekend. As they went off,  I had my weekend planned in my mind but was happy to drive with him to our local airport while he 'checked up' on something. It wasn't until he drew up outside the air charter hangar that I began to suspect something. He had chartered a small plane to fly us down to an exclusive lodge in Amboseli game reserve, in the foothills of Mount Kilimanjaro.  He had even packed a weekend bag for me with everything - including my prettiest dress - that I might need. I was almost too shocked at the extravagance to enjoy myself. 
Before that, it had taken me a long time to accept that he just didn’t ‘do’ bunches of flowers, sweet sentiments or even chocolate!! These things - whether small gestures or hugely extravagant gifts - are sweet, but ultimately don't matter. What really matters is not a once or twice a year fuss, but daily kindnesses and tiny acts of appreciation: the thanks for a meal, or an errand run. A gentle back rub, a touch on the arm. A meaningful kiss. A smile into eyes.
I'm thinking of a sweet friend of mine who is struggling with this whole romance thing - she longs for it, her boyfriend doesn't 'do' romance in the same way.  They are good friends, but the relationship has been a little bit 'on off'.  
I’m probably the last person to talk to regarding an ongoing relationship like this as my husband and I just met each other, deciding almost instantly that this was 'the one' and then got on with it! (I'm talking days, maybe weeks, here.) His excuse is that, as a pilot, he is used to very quick decision making. Mine is that I was SOOO old – nearly 30, and the spinster teacher of the family – that I would have said yes to anyone. That's my cover story, not the truth, of course.

Instant attraction. Romantic to the extreme. But then I think of Little Women, by Louisa May Alcott. It always struck me that the marriage of Amy and Laurie seemed relatively passionless (they agreed that they ‘pulled together well’ when they were out rowing on a lake, as far as I remember!) but it was a happy and lasting marriage. And I think that a lot of good marriages certainly end up like that – pulling well together –  however they begin.

As long as they have Valentine's Day sentiments 365 days a year.
Look here for a cute story of how one couple met...

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)

Catch up

Thought I’d just catch up on myself for a while. Since starting my Lent thoughts, there hasn’t been much time for jotting down on the blog. Neither does it seem very important, actually. So, looking back, I seem to start thoughts – but not finish.

Take the school inspection. It was a LOT of work to get ready for it. And I mean a lot. The week before, I stayed at school until gone 7 for two of the evenings – only leaving because I had another meeting to go to. It wasn’t HARD work, just time-consuming as we tidied up in all areas: making sure the classrooms were as neat and tidy as possibly, tidying up the children’s work, tidying up our planning and paperwork, tidying our desks, tidying our minds. I guess I was tidied out by the time the inspectors arrived, and the time they were here wasn’t at all stressful. Just busy and a little tense. It was a gift every time I taught an unobserved lesson – and the children benefited. My teaching is twice as good when there is no one looking – or, I should say, only half good enough when someone is. And, in the end, I was only observed three or four times in two days, so not bad really.

So that was that.

Another major excitement was the tadpoles. Joseph brought in some quite mature tadpoles in an ice cream box, the same day I tried again with another batch of frogspawn. I’ve managed to put the photos onto a powerpoint presentation and run it every morning for the children to see their progress. Plus, of course, the little crowd that peers in at the little wrigglers several times a day.

Then there are the willow shoots in a vase, sending out roots under water.

It’s all quite fascinating. “Mrs P, why have you got tadpoles on your desk?” asked one child. “And why have you got twigs?”
“For fun,” I replied.
“For fun?” was the puzzled answer. “Just for fun?”
“Of course. The fun of watching things grow. Just watch how these roots are going!”

But the main excitement has been the multiplying of the talents. I’ve talked about it over at Words From God For Today, where I’ve given all the boys in the year £1 each, to keep safe or to multiply for The Tumaini Fund (supporting AIDS widows and orphans in Tanzania). I have never seen children so enthusiastic or excited about what they are doing, nor so confident in explaining to others. Every break time sees a room full of excited children, looking at the cakes and crafts for sale, negotiating, spending their money.

One of the boys keeps forgetting to bring his money. One day, his friend bought him a cake. Sharing. Kindness. Helpfulness.

It makes it all so worthwhile. I love my job.