Bank Holidays

I don't know where you live (obviously) but around here we were promised torrential rain and a lot of wind up us for the Bank Hols. Consequently, we planned very little that meant leaving the house without a full length sou'wester and a compass. By Monday afternoon, looking back on a weekend when the sparrows have been passing out with heatstroke - I feel we may have underachieved a little. Do not blame me - blame the Met Office. (Except Tomasz Schafernaker he's my favourite - the only weather man I have ever seen who comes over a bit louche) Anyway - digressing. We tidied out a bit. HOH sorted out some of his record collection on the dining table which went down tremendously well with me. 
Incidentally - you can see at the back an album by someone called Barbara Lewis (no - me neither) with a rather attractive blond white couple on the cover. Actually,  this is a photo of Barbara Lewis

Spot the deliberate mistake? Well this album was released in around 1965 when black faces didn't sell records so the rather lovely Ms Lewis was replaced with two refugees from a knitting pattern. Er... It's beyond words to be honest. Anyway - digressing.
Sunday morning was an all age service in which the children shared the story of Noah and the Ark with us. It was brilliantly done and kudos to the person who saw no reason not to to have children in masks, an ark made of cardboard boxes, a paddling pool full of water, and the baptismal tank ready for a baptism all on the same stage. Well done you and no-one died which was good news.
Monday and I achieved the target of "Throwing Out 50 Things" set by some guru or other with very little trouble. I did this by cleaning out my underwear drawer - easy. How I ever got some of those knickers over my hips is a mystery to me. So then we woke up to the fact that it was actually another beautiful day and we walked over Jennycliff. This is the view from Jennycliff. 

Plymouth Herald
So that's alright then.

Her name is Susan

If I have any kind of thought out pattern or ambition for these posts, it is just to write stuff that makes us all feel a bit better. We all have plenty to deal with and my personal opinion is that, as far as God is concerned, we are all probably doing a lot better than we think. Sometimes though, I just have to rant or cry or share things with you and then you can take or leave these as you see fit. 
Whatever your personal politics, you have to be horrified by the things that we are seeing happening in the Mediterranean as women fight to keep their babies heads above water. Or the terrible stories of murder and mayhem on streets which people used to walk down every day just to shop and to carry on with life. Even this week we have all probably imagined the horror of over 70 people fighting in vain for life in the back of a sealed lorry, watching as their loved ones succumbed to suffocation.

Yet sometimes something lodges itself in your head above and beyond all else. It's not a graphic photograph - not compared to some of the stuff that is out there at the moment. The origin of this photo is uncertain; wiser people than me think this lady and child may be Christians holding their names up to be sold as slaves or possibly to be exchanged for a ransom from their family. (SOLD AS SLAVES - this disgusting phrase - in this century!) The thing that struck me hardest was that the paper has her name on it and the translation of her name is Susan. It's such a normal, ordinary name. It was a very popular name when I was young. I know lots of Susans. She's just a lady - with a child and I cannot get the look of hopelessness and resignation on her face out of my head. She could be me. She has had her life snatched away in the midst of unfathomable wickedness and she is just a mum, like me or maybe like you. She is a person, not a statistic and she puts me to shame.

I am ashamed of my government for confusing the words refugee and migrant so that desperate people, who are running to save their families' lives are portrayed as people coming here because it might be easier to get a council house. I am ashamed because this government agreed to take a certain amount of refugees and seems to now be reneging in that agreement because it wasn't playing well at the General Election.

I am ashamed that this subject isn't front-row-centre of the Christian church's agenda at the moment. If they cannot expect help and mobilisation from us, then where are they going to get it? I am ashamed because my response is falling so short of what God requires. I don't think anyone should think for one moment this whole thing is about religion. It's about what most things are about - the powerful and strong taking advantage of the weak and the weak minded to increase their power base. It has no connection to any kind of faith. 

It is overwhelming. What are we supposed to do? A few suggestions.

• Pray. Pray for refugees as they are - people - individuals, men women and children. Pray for a solution.
• Talk the talk. Try and stand up for what is right. I am not talking about hiring a megaphone and standing on a plinth in the market square. But, if I had a fiver for every time I have heard someone say - "Well - with the best will in the world we can't take everybody" No-one is asking anyone to take everybody. These people are not getting into dinghies because they have heard that our National Health Service is a hum-dinger. They are coming because people are being killed in the streets. We should maybe just try, gently to point out that you can't believe everything you read in the papers.
• Think about parting with some dosh. People are out there helping at the pointy end - they could do with some support. I don't suppose any of it will help much but as I see Susan's child cling to her for dear life - I just think we have to do something.

Well this looks good

Well this looks like good news. Dad's Army trailer is here. Great cast. (Step forward Michael Gambon). All very promising. Have not been so pleased to see a film trailer in a long time.

Except for Star Wars of course.

I should have thought that was obvious.

Completely obvious - it's Star Wars.

Are you on drugs? It's Star Wars and Han Solo is back. How could anything possibly be better than that?

Ahem

Firstly, to address the elephant in the room. (Although why he would be interested in anything I had to say.....) The blogging or lack of. Nothing much to say really. I have just had two weeks annual leave. In three weeks our kids leave us to go to university. One to do his Masters back in York and the other to start university in Exeter. I decided (in a gradual way - I didn't make a speech or anything) not to blog. We were going to chill and spend time together as a family. We did very little - just spent the time. I'm glad I did it. I would do it again. So there you are. 

I was back at work last week which seemed to take me by surprise as usual. I have no idea why. The date is in my diary and it tends to be a Monday when I go back - especially if I had finished on a Friday. Anyway, library books were due back. It's a total pain paying fines but I have no-one to blame but myself. I tried to renew online but some sneaky person had put an order in for the Mary Berry book that I am borrowing. So on Friday I found myself dragging back to the library in the pouring rain muttering to myself that I was not going to take anything out this time - I have lots to read at home at the moment as well as stuff on the Kindle and all that. No need for any more on the pile - just no need. 
Twenty  minutes later I am in the queue to go to the little machine to check out four books and I realise that they are all about downsizing and clearing out clutter. Some may say that I had been divinely led but I think it was more likely that I was rushing to get back to buy some wine that I had promised someone for a garden party and was only able to look down one aisle.  

Bea Johnson's book is the first one that I read. I did it in about three sittings. (two and a half probably)  This book is full of things that I will probably never do. I cannot see me ever making my own mascara. Unless there is some kind of apocalypse and we are all living in the woods, I think it unlikely that I will go to Morrison's Fish Counter and ask them to put two salmon fillets in a glass jar that I have bought expressly for that purpose.(Apparently they are not very keen on doing this in supermarkets because it is a Health and Safety nightmare but if you are truculent enough they give in eventually) I also cannot see the day coming anytime soon when I am wiping my behind with my hand to cut down on toilet paper use. (To be fair, it was a very short lived  experiment in her house as well)

But...there is lots here to challenge you. Some stuff is dead easy. I have already cleared out my Inbox and unsubscribed myself away from lots of people that I have given my email address to. We were already using a bowl to collect water when we shower so I was quite smug about that. (Actually I think the only reason the family let me do that was on condition that I told NOBODY - oh well, never mind) There is lots of stuff about clothes and possessions generally. I have cleaned out my hang around the house T Shirts because supposedly no one needs 38 T Shirts. (They have sentimental value actually) I have been brutal and whittled them down to about 30. I am feeling very cleansed actually. I am off to order copious amounts of baking soda to whoosh out my drains - or something. 

Cue Zither Music

Plymouth Herald

Out at something a bit different last night. Our local arts centre had arranged a viewing of The Third Man at Plymouth's Council Chamber. The idea was (I think) to show a film about post war secrecy and confusion, in a setting where secrecy and behind the scenes chicanery still exist. I'm not sure about this myself because you can actually watch the Plymouth City Council in session over the old Interweb should you not have a life (not what you would describe as shot through with tension - sorry) and they do run tours to the building as well. However, the setting was a huge success - all teak walls and spooky shadows. 
There also plans to show "The Life Aquatic" with the screen on the massive fish tank in the National Marine Aquarium, Fight Club at the Royal William Yard and lots of other stuff. FOW 2 is a bit worried. She helps out at the Arts Centre and on learning that the lady who introduced our film was in full 1940s fancy dress, was concerned to see that she appears to have her name down to do some ushering for The Rocky Horror Show. "I am NOT dressing up is suspenders for anyone" and also Raiders of the Lost Ark which will be shown at the Tamar Trail "Nobody should think for a minute that I am getting on one of those zip-wire things" 

"ThirdManUSPoster" by Source. Licensed under Fair use via Wikipedia - 

It's a long time since I have seen the Third Man, with its genius script and atmospheric shots and the very hot Orson Welles. It's just one of the best films ever made. That is all.

Conversation

Me     How are you?

Her    Well, really well. Much better.

Me     You look well.

Her     Thanks, I feel so much better since I made things right with *****

Me     How did that go then?

Her    Good. I told her how I felt, about things. How hurt I was by her actions and that I had been quite vengeful in my thinking towards her but that I had accepted that she didn't mean to upset me so much and I had  forgiven her and I was happy to move on.

Me     Well that's lovely. How did she feel about that?

Her     She was a bit surprised. She had no idea that there was a problem until I told her.


Sometimes I think forgiveness is very much a clear the air/talk it through thing. Sometimes, maybe, it's just a you and God thing. A thinking good things about people thing. A private decision to move on thing. Maybe some things are better left unsaid.

Cecil Ranting

BBC

I wouldn't claim to be the most intelligent person in the world but can someone please explain big game hunting to me? I am not a vegetarian or anything and I do know where meat comes from thank you but I just don't get this at all. When I see posts from people who live in the woods who have killed a giant boar to keep their family in meat for a month, I do understand that - they are going to eat it. It may not be for me, I prefer to go in a straight line to the supermarket, trying, if I can find it or afford it, to buy as ethically as possible. But, at least if you are feeding people with it - it does make sense.

It's just the whole concept of this, I don't get. What on earth makes anyone want to put photos of themselves up with an animal they have killed? What is the achievement? What is the point? You have a gun (or a bow and arrow for some, even more, bizarre reason) a tracker, a Land Rover, and twenty five fawning people around you just in case things go pear shaped. It's not exactly an even Man v Nature match is it? (As a side issue - what is all the stripping to the waist about? This is ultra weird.) A few weeks ago some woman posted photos of herself having shot a giraffe. A GIRAFFE! That must have been some thrill ride. We have giraffes in Paignton Zoo and they can die if they get their legs tangled up and they fall over. I wouldn't call it big game hunting really. Would you? Is it the thrill of the hunt? Really? Are you a grown up? Is that what life is about for you? Seriously? Do they allow you to vote?

And now Cecil the Lion has been lured from a Reserve to be killed by an American dentist of all people. It it weren't so sad, it would be funny. Apparently, root canal work isn't hitting the mark for him so he shoots wild animals with a bow and arrow. Cecil took 40 hours to die. His cubs may well now have to be killed as they will be vulnerable to attack from other males. I go back to the beginning of this rant. Just what on earth is this about? 

People argue that hunting is legal and it puts money back into conservation. Well lots of things have been legal - sending children up chimneys, stopping women voting, taking people from Africa and depriving them of their freedom and the right to say 'no' when the master fancies a pop at your wife or your daughter. These things are no longer legal and as we move on, we realise that they were never right AND WE STOP IT.  As for the money, the amounts that these people pay to hunt - huge amounts - they don't smack of legal fees to me, they sound like corrupt blood money. Have a collection. Set up a charity. That's what normal people do. 

There has been some very sensible talk on social media about how people are getting more worked up about this than they did about the death of a black woman in police custody and of course that it true. There is a connection though. When something is wrong - it is wrong. When the strong and those with the protection of money or privilege take advantage of those who cannot defend themselves there is a sense that the world is off kilter. You can feel that here I think and it is this innate "not rightness" that rears its head all the time. It makes me despair. Sometimes I just want to hang my head down and apologise for being a human.

Instructions

Hallelujah! Thank God! Pray to him by name! Tell everyone you meet what he has done! Sing him songs, belt out hymns, translate his wonders into music! Honor his holy name with Hallelujahs, you who seek God. Live a happy life! Keep your eyes open for God, watch for his works; be alert for signs of his presence. Remember the world of wonders he has made, his miracles, and the verdicts he’s rendered— O seed of Abraham, his servant, O child of Jacob, his chosen.
Psalm 105 The Message

Are you ever surprised by just how much the Bible manages to pack into so few words? Being a bit of a bletherer myself and never using one word when twelve will do, this kind of thing always impresses me. I would never be able to do it. I am very glad that I didn't have to write the Bible (And the cry went up from all the nations - "Aren't we all!") 

I have not had the easiest week ever - Aged Parent at hospital (all well - thanks for asking). The dreaded mammogram. (You know me - I am the health professional's friend - but when a nurse who hasn't bothered to turn round as I enter the room stripped to the waist  says "We'll start with your right side" when I haven't got a right side - I think I have a right to be a bit annoyed) Anyway - to raise the tone. This is like an instruction manual. Just here in these few lines.

Be thankful. Talk to God. Tell people about him. Sing. Sing loudly. Honour him. Choose happiness with him. Look for him. Expect miracles from him. Remember his goodness. Remember his wisdom. Remember you are his. It's a life instruction book. Mad positive and generally all over empowering. You know - if I ever had a tattoo.... (No need to look so panicky Head of House, am just musing)

Flicks

Wikipedia

Just calling in to mention a couple of films we got to see. We went to see Minions - myself and FOW2 and we didn't care. I loved Despicable Me and so there we were. To be honest, it does exactly what it says on the tin. There are Minions, they fall over a lot and shout at each other and that's about it really. There are some laugh out loud bits and Jennifer Saunders does a brilliant turn as an arm-wrestling Queen of England but, to be honest, it's not really for me is it? There was a little person in the seat in front who almost dies of happiness a couple of times and that was almost worth the entrance fee to be honest.

Wikipedia

About as far away from that as it is possible to get is Amy - a documentary about Amy Winehouse. Ah - this is so sad. Most of the news about this has been about how Amy's father is threatening to sue the film-makers for the way he has been portrayed. I'm not surprised - he doesn't come out of it at all well. The problem with his indignation is that you can see him, behaving badly, in front of your own eyes. It's all camera footage, not people giving opinions on his fathering skills. I know it can be manipulated but it is shocking to see him dragging a vulnerable Amy here there and everywhere for his business deals. The kindest thing you can say is that maybe he didn't really understand what was happening to her and how dangerous it was. I think he probably had her best interests at heart - he certainly adored her - as did everyone. 

I have to put my hand up here and say that musically, I am not her biggest fan - too much derivative stuff for me - although she could certainly sing. This is a terrific film. It moving and sad and funny. She comes across as a vulnerable little soul under all the gobbyness, a tiny person physically who just couldn't take all the chemical abuse she put her body through. The most moving moment for me is right at the end when Tony Bennett - one of her all time heroes and a man who was no stranger to a bit of substance abuse in his younger days - said something like - "It's so sad - I wish I could have told her that you learn how to live your life eventually, as you get older." Whenever I see stuff like this where people lose hope and can't find their way back, it does make me think about Jesus and his promise of redemption - in the sense that there is a way back from everything - whatever it is, no pit is too deep. Sometimes it doesn't seem so, I know. 

If you get the chance to see this, please do. I don't suppose it will be on in many places, unlike Minions which will be so ubiquitous it seems like it is showing on the back of your eye. 

Here I Am

Well I am almost too ashamed to turn up again after all this time. It's not an acceptable excuse to say that I have been a bit overwhelmed but tis true so there you are. I have lurked around other people's blogs but that's been about it. The thing is as well, when it comes to blogging, when I don't do it - there's the guilt you see. The laptop stares at me with an air of reproach so that I start avoiding it. This is especially unfortunate because this is where I keep track of the family finances and my tendency not to believe the state of our finances unless I see them with my own eyes, can lead to dangerous levels of spending, based on my mind-fantasy bank balance.

So the main event of the week and it was quite a big main thing, was the graduation of FOW 1 from York University with First Class Honours no less. (Sorry - you had to be told) Of course, those of you with superior geography skills will have noticed that Devon is a long way from York so it is quite a trek to get everyone there. 

Still, what a lovely day. I have never been to anything like that before and found the whole thing quite emotional. Greg Dyke is the chancellor of York Uni so he gave the certificates out. I have decided that I like Greg Dyke. (This will come as a huge relief to him, I am sure) He gave a brilliant no-nonsense speech and encouraged people not to stay in jobs they hated because life is too short. He just managed to qualify this statement in time to stop 50% of the parents in the room handing in their notice. Apparently, this advice was just for the students - pity. Then the whole room fell silent as the sister of a student collected the degree on her behalf. We all knew that it had all got too much for this student and she had taken her own life at the beginning of the final academic year. Maybe, it is the Christian in me that always thinks when I hear of such things, that all things can be sorted or come back from, given time. It is so sad when people lose sight of  this. You feel so much for what she must have been going through and what her family are going through now. It kind of puts everything into perspective.

Later on, FOW1 took us on a route march to King's Manor which is where Archaeology is studied. ("It's not a long walk. I do it all the time." I AM IN NEW SHOES! ) So we stood around and had champagne and wraps with unidentifiable green sort of doughy stuff in them, while I tried to stem the blood coursing out of my heels. Then there were special awards given out. The Most Jolly Person Award (or something like that) went to a pipe smoking, lesbian, C of E girl which was all very nice - academia eh? I shook a few sort of professory people's hands and tried to look clever - not always that easy when you have half a loo roll stuffed down the back of your shoes. But, the sun shone and everyone was very pleasant. He goes back there in September to do a Masters in Digital Heritage (No, me neither) 


Back to work tomorrow. Has to be done but lovely memories of a great day. Hargreaves Towers on Tour for one of the last times maybe. Thankful as always.

Family Matters

Much trauma at Martha Towers. Morecambe is back from the vets having had NINE teeth out. Yes nine. Can't but think it may be our fault somehow. Not sure why - he is bursting with health otherwise. Our bank balance is, however, not doing any kind of bouncing at all. Three hundred and eighty pounds it was. I would have had a bit of a go myself if I had known that. Anyway, all is back to normal now, his poo has returned to a normal colour after having changed to chocolate brown. (Too much information? You only have to say)

FOW1 is back in the bosom of the family again so, for a short time at least, this family is a family of four under the same roof. I have no idea how we made this work four years ago. Perhaps it helps because some people were a lot smaller then. I am sure that once we get the towels on the bathroom floor situation sorted - all will be well, as long as I get myself into the habit of buying all bread, from everywhere, all the time.

Aged Parent came for tea. She came straight from the chiropodist, having used a voucher that we bought her for Mothers' Day. I was earwigging on a conversation she had with FOW 2.

FOW 2 So was it nice having your feet done Nana?

Aged Parent Lovely thank you. She did all my heels and everything. She even offered to put nail polish on but I said no - because I chew my nails and it's not worth it.

Short but significant silence as daughter processes this information

FOW2 I think she meant your toe-nails Nana

Aged Parent (Puzzled) Really? She never said.