Hilarious

Writing like this, I usually forget what I've written. When I DO remember, and want to look something up again, I hope I've put the right tab on. The search engine doesn't always work brilliantly, so it's good to have a safety net of labels.

This one has to be laughter.

I've just come across the most wonderful, irreligiously Christian (if that makes sense: it's Christian and hilarious) blog I have read for a long time. I'll put it on blogs I like but here is the link anyway: it's called Of Course I Could Be Wrong

Rejoicing

There have been many little reasons to rejoice recently. One or two bigger things to get a little upset over, but I'm not going to think about them.

I want to think about the little rejoicings:

My knee is getting much better: I can now walk for longer without pain or discomfort. Thank you Mr Physiotherapist!

Jonny got good marks for an essay, keeping his average up very nicely.

And Catharine's uni ultimate frisbee team (sadly not an Olympic sport, as there is no referee), won their tournament for the first time ever and are now regional champions! (There is a downside, though: they have to go all the way to Glasgow for the Nationals. Never mind.)

I still love teaching my class! Now, that is a really BIG rejoicing.

(I'm finishing this post, but am sure this list is not finished. I'm going out to think of some more rejoicings to add to it.)

Unfortunate thoughts

Sometimes my head starts to play up. Unfortunate thoughts suddenly pop up at the most inappropriate times, forcing a sudden spurt of laughter out of me.

Take this morning.

I'm asking my class how they are, as there seems a lot of sickness and general malaise at the moment, plus a good sprinklilng of 'down in the dumps'.

After hearing about headaches, coughs, colds, rashes, sleeplessness and other ailments, I arrived at the last child. The conversation went like this:

Child: I've got something strange but I don't know what it is.
My head: Insanity?
Child: It's the same thing that my dad has, it affects us both.
My head: definitely insanity then.

I laughed; choked; apologised; and still couldn't help smiling.

Oh dear.

But at least I started the day with a huge smile on my face.

Stress

Recent research in the UK - figures derived from folk who reported workplace stress or depression - show that teachers suffer over twice as much stress as average, and over half as much again as professionals, on average.

Hmmmm. That's a trend I am determined not to follow!

Laughter

As I crossed the playground this morning, I notice two boys leaning on some railings, 'sighting'down the 'barrel' of their hockey sticks as they took aim at a group of chidlren hanging around outside the changing rooms.

I couldn't resist it.

Walking up to them, I whispered: "It's no good. It's not loaded."

One boy looked at me, startled. He nodded, lowered his 'rifle', checked the breech and reloaded.

I laughed all the way to the staff room - and beyond.

Things to make a mama's heart glad.

The first words of the new term from an absent son: "I'm missing you guys. I'm really missing you."

A sentence in an email from an absent daughter, trying to finish a dissertation to the deadline: "I didn't go to CU (she is vice president) last night as I needed to finish." I think this is a first for her: she normally manages to do everything and more, but dissertations just demand to be prioritised above everything else.

A furiously wagging tail and body, accompanied by high-pitched squeals of joy from a certain small dog.

These things make me happy, sad, proud, glad...

Breakfast!

I've talked before about my monthly breakfasts.

I love holding them.
I love meeting with the women who drag themselves out of their houses early on a Saturday morning, when the 'to-do' list is long and there are families, children, husbands who all want to lay claim to their time.
I love the warm sense of companionship.
I love how I feel I've had a holiday, a break, refreshment and relaxation.

And yet...

Every time, in the run-up during the week, I wonder if it is worth it.

People often don't tell me they are coming until the last minute. So, by Friday afternoon, I was expecting 3. Then the phone calls and emails started coming - at one point, we were up to 12, I think, or more. (I lose track easily.)

There were 9 of us. Perfect. 9 is the perfect number for sharing, for being able to really open up our hearts and be real with each other.

Every time, I find myself running around to get ready.

This time, even more so. I was rather too relaxed and didn't realise I hadn't got up until an hour before they were due to arrive.

An hour in which I had to lay out crockery and cutlery; cut up and arrange fruit; make toast. Bake cinnamon rolls. (The last was unplanned, although fortunately I realised at 9pm the night before that I didn't have any baked goods or even enough bread in the freezer. No problem: just put dough to rise over night.)

But then I noticed that there were several other 'little' jobs desperately demanding my attention. Rather like taking your children out to visit someone you don't know really well and realising that their hands and faces looked as if they'd been making mud pies all afternoon. Remember when your mum used to clean you up with a bit of spit and polish? A lick on a handkerchief and a hard wipe round delicate skin on your child face? That's what the house got. (Don't look for the dirt in the corners.)

I felt a bit ashamed, really. I hadn't given the forthcoming breakfast enough weighty consideration, so I hadn't prepared adequately for visitors to my home.
On the other hand, I knew that these ladies from church would not be judging me on the quality of my cleaning, cooking or tea-making. They knew that 'Man looks at the outward appearance, but the Lord looks at the heart.' (1 Samuel 16:7)

Guess what the topic was this time?

Appearance!

Here are my lovely friends, who look beyond the outward appearance to come and share precious time together: