Golden Hill

I am not a natural book reviewer. If I like it I will come on here and say so. If I don't I will probably wap it in the bin and we will never speak of it again. I'm not very good at being negative about people's hard work so I just tend to be quiet. I also know that book reviews do not seem to set my blog alight with traffic so I may be just writing this for me. Hey Ho.
This is a very good book. (I could end this here to be frank but I won't) I'm pretty sure that I have said on here before that Unapologetic -  Francis Spufford's book on his Christianity is one of the books that has influenced me most in this part of my Christian life (as in old and haggard). So I have been interested in anything he has written. However, this is not a Christian book. It is fiction - set in New York before the revolution. It is a rattling good read. If you are like me and a bit slow on the uptake, the pace and the language can take a bit of getting used to. It is set in 1746 and the language reflects that. Once I got the hang of it though, it fairly races along. There are some great set-pieces - a chase along rooftops, a duel and a really effective piece set in the theatre. The hero is handsome, mysterious and made for a movie adaptation. (I suggest Tom Hardy if anyone cares) There is a heartbreaking death and a final scene that made me almost want to stand up and cheer which would have been unfortunate as I was in bed at the time. It is a fantastic book. 

Boss

I am a fairly independent kind of person. I can drive a car, I can iron a reasonably straight line in my trousers, I can boil an egg perfectly. (That last one is a lie) I was reading something quite nasty on the Internet about how Christians are a bit pathetic - leaning as they need to on a God who insists on being top dog and in charge all the time. I thought about it for a while because it is true - we do. Why would a reasonably grown up person like me be happy with this kind of arrangement? It's a fair question I think.
When I see the statement above, it makes me comforted, secure, in safe hands. It doesn't make me feel as if I am in some kind of abusive relationship.
Mainly it's about the kind of God that God is. I'm from the north - we are sharp as tacks - I wouldn't choose to worship any old god type entity. To belong to God is to belong to someone who always has my best interests at heart. It is to be a part of something where someone who always gets it right, invites me in to see how it is done. It is to draw alongside something so beyond my normal comprehension that things happen that I would never expect. It is to see an impossibly high standard set for me with no condemnation when I fail. Then there is the love. This God loves me. This God loves me without cause. This God loved me enough to send his son to die for me. I owe this God an immeasurable debt, yet the only repayment he asks is that I allow him to set me free. 
So you have a point when you say that I am subservient. I do look in awe and worship. But it is a truth that we all worship - something or other - money, power, popularity even (heaven help us) clean eating. Christians get to worship someone whose position of God in the relationship gives us comfort, security and surprisingly, a chance to be ourselves - free as birds. Strange how that works isn't it?

Weekend

To York on Friday to see FOW1 get some more letters after his name. It is such a lovely ceremony, even if your son - shown here as the humongously tall person, only takes ten seconds to get his award and you spend the next half hour clapping a lot of Chinese people from the business school. There was one very good speech from someone getting an honorary degree. I'm sorry - I didn't get his name - he used to be on Time Team. (At this point FOW1 points out, quite testily, that, like most people on Time Team, he is also a distinguished academic with lots of important discoveries to his name. This is in case any of us were thinking that he was just an eccentric man with a trowel) Anyway - this gentleman didn't find out that he was a good writer or TV person until he was in his late fifties. It's encouraging I think, for those who feel that they are knocking on a bit and are yet to hit their mark in life.
Then off to Kings Manor for a reception for the Archaeology Masters students and their families. This is always very nice but standing around balancing nibbles and a glass of wine while making small talk will always be my idea of a nightmare. Last time we did this, the sandwiches they gave out may well have been the reason that I spent most of the evening in the bathroom so I resolved to stick to a little piece of cake. However the food police seemed to have got there first and there was only fruit for afters. The thought of trying to hold a sophisticated conversation with a professor whilst holding a glass of wine in one hand and eating a banana with the other was almost enough to finish me. FOW1 is now working through thoughts about PHDs or work etc. 
We then shook off the students and spent a lovely evening at the panto. It's quite a famous panto - very traditional and lovely. It's the kind of panto where you sing along to words as they come down on a screen and they read out dedications for the audience. It's also very funny. 
Anyway, a lovely weekend which almost made the six hour drive feel easy. Almost. We are back up North in a couple of weeks to take Aged Parent to the land of her birth for a few days. This is to celebrate her 80th birthday. We won't actually be seeing her on her birthday because she has had a better offer which is fair enough.

Parent      They are holding a party for me here, with a few drinks                                and niggles
Me           Niggles??
Parent      *Exasperated at my ignorance* It's what Rose calls                                      those things on sticks!!
Me           WILL YOU PUT YOUR HEARING AID IN! Please

In between

It is that time of year I think. Christmas is a far away thought of the past. New Year's Resolutions are teetering on the brink. Money is tighter - even if it isn't, there isn't really that much to do with any spare money. It's really cold outside so that leaving the house is not as pleasant as it might be. Then there is the darkness, it's dark when you get up and dark when you go to bed. Even on a more global level, times seem dark and confusing.
This time of year can be a sort of downtime. Time to get a bit down sometimes. I was speaking to someone who got through this time of year by planning all their holidays and breaks for the year ahead. "Gives me something to look forward to." That's nice. But I was thinking, what if this blah time was a blessing. What if it was time-out from the rest of the year. There is, for many people a space here. Maybe nothing that NEEDS to be planned for quite yet. Nothing outstanding, nothing to write home about. I was reading in one of the Gospels about Jesus' ministry and was struck by how much travelling from village to village he did. 

Luke 8The Message (MSG)

He continued according to plan, travelled to town after town, village after village, preaching God’s kingdom, spreading the Message.

I sometimes have a vague idea in my head about him almost being mobbed by different groups of people as he wandered around a couple of places. (I understand I should read my Bible better - don't write in) But I realised that, between the high level healings, and temple arguments and just downright Messiah like happenings, there was lots of planned walking between villages. Going from place to place. Sometimes they were met by the needy but then they would carry on. Just normal times. Talking, laughing, eating, going about their work, possibly being a bit low, a bit puzzled. Just life - with Jesus.
These are maybe the in-between times and they are just as important as the "happening times". I looked at January and thought "Quiet nights, blankets, candles, books, TV catch up, eating out of the freezer - not much else really". 
As it turns out, we have a couple of events in January and February but besides these, we are slow and we are quiet. And it is ok being just that. 

Settling Down

Here is the less than overwhelming Martha Towers News.
Things are returning to normal here after the Christmas shenanigans. FOW 2 has returned to university burdened with only an extra heater for her bedroom and the knowledge that she will need to try and find two of this term's films online as the university have found that they will be unable to supply them. This has made me want to stage an intervention as in "intervene to ask the university what they think they are playing at". You know that a university education is charged for by the second now right? My feeling is that if uni is telling students to download these films from Amazon, then maybe the university who are extracting several thousand pounds a year from the students, could possibly think of rousing THEMSELVES to do the downloading. Too radical? Too much like hard work? Possibly. I have been commanded by FOW2 to say nothing.

Went to the pictures to see La La Land. It's very pretty - lovely colours. Lovely performances - especially Emma Stone. It's just that - for a musical - I didn't think the dancing was very good. I think maybe it was supposed to not be very good - sort of modern and messy. I am afraid that I am used to Astaire and Kelly levels of excellence in my musicals not just pretty people having a pop at it. There is big dance scene on the motorway which everyone raved about and I just thought it was a bit of a mess. Still, not to complain too much. It's about time someone had a go at something a bit different and it is really lovely to look at. Also, no one gets their throat slit. Hope that's not a spoiler. 

We didn't get any snow in this round but that didn't stop Spotlight News from sending a man to stand on the highest point on Dartmoor and predict an apocalypse. It was all a bit embarrassing as he pointed at various donkeys and sheep and tried to canvass them for their opinion. It went a bit cold and a bit rainy then it stopped. 
Glad to see Endeavour back on Sundays and Sherlock obvs. People have been complaining about Sherlock. I've been enjoying it. Just me probably. 

The house has been full of students. Well just the one who has been staying with us. Why does it always feel like there are more? 

And in the most important event of the week is...I HAVE A COLD! I NEVER GET A COLD! This is unacceptable. I have a really busy week at work. FOW1 graduates at the weekend and I will be needing all my strength to try and look good in clashing prints. I have no time for this. So I am off to try and get warm and all that stuff. Petitionary prayers gratefully received. 

Alone

One of the joys of any time away from work is being able to listen to Woman's Hour. I love Woman's Hour. I love talky radio (so long as it's nothing to do with Brexit) 

I managed to listen between Christmas and New Year. I can't be more accurate than that I'm afraid. I tend to ditch my diary around Christmas and all the days seem to run into one until I can get a nice new diary out. The programme was a phone in about how people had spent their Christmas. It wasn't the most imaginative subject but I expect the production team were still in the middle of their jolly hollys. I found one lady's story particularly touching. She explained how she had spent Christmas alone and how difficult it had been. She was 62 years old; widowed for quite a few years but still fit and active. She talked about how she went to clubs and met people, but how, sometimes she felt relegated to the outskirts of people's lives. Her little dog had recently died and no-one had knocked on her door to see how she was. All she wanted, she said, fighting back tears, was for someone to give her a call and say "Would you like to go for a walk this afternoon?" then the killer line - "Maybe even someone from my church". Arrrgh.

If I had a fiver for every time I had heard this. It begs so many questions. Are we really fulfilling our role in our community - whether that is inside or outside church? Are we inclusive? Not just the young and the beautiful but the older and the "ordinary". I recently looked at a church's list of home groups. (Aged parent wasn't sure which one she went to - long story) There were some fantastic things there - surfer groups, 20-30s nights, student evenings etc etc. There didn't seem to be much for anyone over 50. I am a parent of students. I am glad the church is trying hard to hold them. I am slightly concerned that if they went to everything that is available for them in church, they would never get any work done. Apparently, the church is losing a young generation. We need to work to get them back. I am very supportive of this project. I wonder though if we aren't also losing other people. The quiet, the lonely, the people who maybe don't vote with their feet and turn up every Sunday then go home to an empty room and an equally empty week. 

I am all for pastoral teams, they do an excellent job. They find the people who are struggling and lost and lonely and they visit and pray. (Quite often anyway) But they are up to their eyeballs in work most of them. And, a pastoral visit is not a friendship. It is a reach out. In some ways it should be a last resort. I don't that that "Community" is the pastor's job. I think it is the community's responsibility.

We often talk about faith nor being an exclusive pastime. I don't just think that is about sharing the gospel - although obviously it is about that. I think it is about not closing down when we have found our tribe. It is so easy when we find like minded people - especially in church. We pull up the drawbridge so we can stay with our friends and the people we love and trust. Unfortunately, if that is your plan then I think you may have joined the wrong religion. We are called to be friends. To support and to love. Not just those we identify with. 

I am, of course, certain that this is the plan because Jesus gave us the example. He shunned the wise and the powerful, those who maybe could have done the message he brought a power of good. Instead he sought to be with those who could give him nothing back. He chose to teach them of course but he chose a different way. He chose friendship. He spent time with them. He ate with them. He then told then to do the same, as people, as individuals. If people are looking out of their windows alone. If people are in our churches, praying that someone will want to be their friend, if people mourn their little dogs alone, then maybe we don't wonder if the pastoral team will ever get their finger out. Maybe the command was to us. To me.

This is my command: Love one another the way I loved you. This is the very best way to love. Put your life on the line for your friends. You are my friends when you do the things I command you. I’m no longer calling you servants because servants don’t understand what their master is thinking and planning. No, I’ve named you friends because I’ve let you in on everything I’ve heard from the Father.

You didn’t choose me, remember; I chose you, and put you in the world to bear fruit, fruit that won’t spoil. As fruit bearers, whatever you ask the Father in relation to me, he gives you.

But remember the root command: Love one another.

Pause in Advent #3

Possibly my favourite Christmas film - possibly. Dickens and Christmas, Cheese and Onion, Morecambe and Wise, red wine and a blinding headache. All these things go together perfectly for me, so the whole thing starts on a strong footing. You take A Christmas Carol and you add the Muppets, Michael Caine, songs and all this comes to its logical conclusion - Michael Caine singing Christmas songs. It is win/win on every conceivable level. 

I heard the revered film critic Peter Bradshaw name this as his favourite Christmas film, describing it as genuinely moving; which it is. 
A Christmas Carol may be Dickens' best known book - mainly because it captures something about the spirit of Christmas that people chase after. There is a warmth, a love of family and friends and a chance of redemption from whatever you have been before. This is the Christian gift of becoming who you are supposed to be that people are catching a glimpse of - even if, for the most part, they are unaware of it.
People are looking for something at Christmas. They are looking to capture that perfection that is sold to us on the telly and in magazines. They are looking for the warmth and security that they remember in Christmas childhoods - even though that memory may not even be real. A Christmas Carol tells the story of a man who found his way back.  
Having established that we have a corker of a story, we then add the hilariousness that is the Muppets. Particular attention is to be given to the awesome performances of Gonzo and Rizzo the Rat. "Light the lamp! Not the rat!". Michael Caine? Well, he has never been better.

A Pause in Advent #2

This week's Christmas film isn't really a film at all but, as usual, I am refusing to be bound by anything as trivial as facts. It is a BBC series that was on a couple of years ago in the lead up to Christmas. As much as seems to be acceptable these days, it is as true as possible to the Biblical account. It tries to leave the door open to possible miraculous happenings without frightening the PC horses. I like it very much for lots of reasons.

It is stunningly shot with proper actors, rather than people from the Hallmark School of Christian Drama. I think you probably know what I am saying.

Joseph is actually quite hot. (Although this is obviously irrelevant)

The reality of the situation is front and centre here. Mary is betrothed to someone she really likes. Yet she is pregnant. Joseph is unimpressed by her story of angelic visitation. He stays with her, only to remove her from her local environment and thus save her life. She risks stoning if she stays. He is a man with a good heart. This proves my Sunday School teacher's point that the choice of Joseph as earthly father was as relevant as the choice of Mary. Another man may have left her to her fate. (I have never worked out why she was quite so vexed about this.) 

I love the way the wise men are looking for the star and the promise for years and years and their excitement when it eventually arrives.

I am sometimes a bit allergic to re-telling of the Nativity. It can seem a bit wishy-washy and I think Jesus' start in this life was tough. This has wonder combined with reality. It is excellent. Well done the BBC.

Can I just finish by drawing your attention to this photo of the Wise Men from the series? If you look closely, you will see the one on the left is actually Dr Who!!!! Am now a bit confused by concept of time travel. 

Arrival - No, not the Abba Album

Just calling in to tell you about this film. It's called Arrival and it is utterly brilliant. I would go as far as to use the word profound. It's difficult to describe it without spoilers but I can tell you that these alien pods land all over the world. So far so the same as every alien invasion film ever made - er EVER. But no! Come back! They have things to tell us and they don't want to zap us with squirty guns or suck out our eyeballs. It is a slow, sad (sometimes almost unbearably sad) story with a whip smart twist that made me gasp. It also has a power to make you re-examine your own life. I haven't found anyone that didn't love it.

Before I leave, let me share with you one of the moments when I realised that old people will always be beyond me, 

Aged Parent *in more or less one breath* "So I said to Rose, I think she died this morning and Rose said that she hadn't heard and then Diane came to the flat and she said come and sit with me Beryl because she was really upset obviously. then Charlotte came upstairs but she had a shocking cold so I made her go back down but Diane is going to the Christmas meal with me and she is coming with me to have my hearing aids fitted although- like I said to Stan I don't feel deaf."

Me *taking advantage of a gasp for breath* "Mum - would you like to have a look at the new B and M next Saturday?"

Aged Parent "That would be very nice. I often go for days in this place without seeing or speaking to anyone."

Hmmn

Pause In Advent #1

I have to tell you that when I saw the first Advent Candle being lit at church this Sunday morning, I nearly put my hand up and pointed out the mistake. Surely not already? It seems like we have talked about Christmas since the end of August, and I have strenuously resisted it but suddenly it really is on the way. 

I am, as usual, totally unprepared but I have never let that stop me before and I expect we shall get there without too much trauma. At least, that's the plan. To get me in the mood, I am picking out Christmas movies for each Advent pause and telling you why I love them and why they make my bottom lip a bit trembly.

First up is Nativity! This is a late entry to my Christmas favourites. A primary school teacher, organising his school's nativity, accidentally promises his pupils Hollywood interest in their play. As disaster upon disaster unfolds, the teacher spirals out of control in his efforts to dig himself out of this hole. It's all very implausible (The teacher actually has an ex-girlfriend working in Hollywood. Who would have thought it?)

However, I do love this. Firstly, it is full of excited children doing a bit of acting. Secondly, how lovely to see a Nativity with Mary and Joseph and Baby Jesus, as well as really sweet songs. It seems that now, in some schools, you can't call it a Nativity unless you have a life size squirrel, a solar-powered set of wind chimes and a spaceman. We have to cover all bases and make sure all the costumes in the dressing up box are used I think. 

I don't think that all Christian traditions need to be adhered to as if they are Gospel, but there is something wonderful about the combination of the Nativity story and children. Children, maybe, catch on to the joy of the whole thing. They sniff the air like tiny puppies as Christmas approaches. A lot of it is to do with the gifts - that is certain - but they also, without any cynicism enter wholeheartedly into the spirit of the time. I could probably learn a lot from them.

Wet Autumn Thinks

Of course rain is essential - we plough the fields and scatter and all that but Devon is under a deluge at the moment - it is hardly bothering to get light today. It's easy to get all wistful about Autumn but I can live without it when it's like this. I'd even rather have a good old fashioned crisp cold snap.

Anyway, on to more edifying things. I was reading this.

17 One day as he was teaching, Pharisees and religion teachers were sitting around. They had come from nearly every village in Galilee and Judea, even as far away as Jerusalem, to be there. The healing power of God was on him.

18-20 Some men arrived carrying a paraplegic on a stretcher. They were looking for a way to get into the house and set him before Jesus. When they couldn’t find a way in because of the crowd, they went up on the roof, removed some tiles, and let him down in the middle of everyone, right in front of Jesus. Impressed by their bold belief, he said, “Friend, I forgive your sins.”

21 That set the religion scholars and Pharisees buzzing. “Who does he think he is? That’s blasphemous talk! God and only God can forgive sins.”

22-26 Jesus knew exactly what they were thinking and said, “Why all this gossipy whispering? Which is simpler: to say ‘I forgive your sins,’ or to say ‘Get up and start walking’? Well, just so it’s clear that I’m the Son of Man and authorized to do either, or both. . . .” He now spoke directly to the paraplegic: “Get up. Take your bedroll and go home.” Without a moment’s hesitation, he did it—got up, took his blanket, and left for home, giving glory to God all the way. The people rubbed their eyes, incredulous—and then also gave glory to God. Awestruck, they said, “We’ve never seen anything like that!”

I have always loved this. I love the fact of a bona fide miracle in the middle of it. The man can't walk and then he can. The loving-kindness of Jesus reaching in and reassuring the sick man that his sins are forgiven. The way the posh and the high ups are confounded by the way Jesus is with people. In the light of recent events though, I had been thinking about the role of the helpers - the sick man's friends. I was thinking about the call to be kind - to one another - and ignore what the "powerful" are doing. How determined were they to get their friend to Jesus? They arrive at the house and there is no way they will get in - just no room. Yet they drag the bed on to the roof and dig through and lower the bed before Jesus. I have no evidence but I just think of Jesus looking up and smirking at the faces of the friends as they peered down through the hole to see what would happen. 

So what does it make me think?

• It makes me think that I should be determined to hear from Jesus. To push on and do whatever it takes until I find him in my circumstances
• It strikes me that kindness is sometimes hard work. It doesn't always fall into our laps. We have to fight for the right things to happen.
• I think that being kind is also not judging before you help someone. I have no idea about this man but something had been going on in his head. Jesus is careful to tell him that he is forgiven before he heals him. His friends aren't bothered with all that. They just want to see him well. Jesus can deal with anything else the man needs.

Comfort thinking as the rain pours.

The Secret of the Journal

I would never describe myself as a completist. Once I start a series - books, box sets etc. I don't feel I MUST finish it at all costs. In fact, I don't feel that I have to finish a book if it doesn't grab me. Life is too short. It is ok to do that because CS Lewis said so. Yet sometimes you just fall in love don't you and you need to read all the books or watch all the telly. Witness Harry Potter, The West Wing, The Hawk and the Dove, the Great British Bake Off etc etc. The latest addition to my "must finish" is the series of books called "The Secret of the Journal." 
I'm not really sure how to describe these books really, they aren't like anything I have read before. So far so not very inspiring review wise. But I am having a go at telling you about them anyway. Part romance (quite hot romance as well), part historical novel, part science fiction, part thriller and with faith woven in and out of it all. That should describe it enough for you. No? 
Well, being careful about spoilers - Emma D'Eresby - a Cambridge Academic travels to Maine in search of a Seventeenth-century journal. Working at college, she comes across the lovely Dr Matthew Lynes and - well you know. Except we don't, because Dr Lynes isn't what we all suppose he is. When we discover his secret, it takes the novel to a different place completely and a sense of menace and secrecy and general spooky wooey-ooeyness takes over.
Having said that I don't hang around unless something really grabs me, I sort of made an exception for this. When I started reading the series, I didn't quite get it at first and I struggled to understand the characters. However, I wanted to stay with it and by the time Matthew's secret is discovered, I was hooked (Warning - you have to go right to the end of the first book to find out properly - although you may suspect before then)
They are a rattling good read. To enjoy them properly, you will need to suspend your disbelief and go along for the ride. There is, however, a real heart to the stories and I did really care about the characters. There is a section - sort of towards the end (trying really hard not to spoil anything) where Emma - older and wearier - fights to create a life for herself and her family. I was so worried for her at this point - it surprised me how involved I was. These books are good, chums. Enjoyed - a lot. 

Er No Thank You

I think there has been lots of progress in the church since I first became a Christian. We no longer judge a woman's spirituality by the length of her earrings. Most of us accept that other doctrines and religions deserve, at the very least, our respect. We now very rarely think that a member of the youth group needs to be released from oppression just because they don't want to play that game where we have to pass a balloon to each other through our legs. And if we are still struggling with where we are on LGBT, at least we are less likely to chase a gay person out of church with a flaming torch.

However, I have not budged at all on Halloween. I am not convinced by its claims to be a funky, family affair. Growing up in church, I was taught that it was not a good thing. Nothing has made me think any differently.  I still can't bear it. Why? How long have you got?

It is now sold as funny and cute. It is not funny and cute. It smacks of bullying. Give me treats or you will get yours old lady. I dislike the dressing up. What is good about dressing as a blood covered zombie? Or a battered corpse? The violent undertones make me slightly queasy. That is before you get to the highly sexualised clothes that girls are wearing (It's always girls - never chaps) Sexy Zombie in stockings or ghouls etc. Often these girls have fake blood and cuts and bruises etc. Who is that playing to?
We had some kids turn up at our house the other year in Scream masks -with fake knives. Really? Turn up at Aged Parent's house like that and I'll give you something to scream about. 

I also resent the way Halloween has been allowed to usurp Bonfire Night. I grew up with Guy Fawkes being the last great national celebration before Christmas. I know that we need to be careful about being too celebraty about an event where several people were tortured to death after trying to overthrow the government. But it is a huge historical event, where democracy triumphed - part of our amazing history. We used to celebrate it by gathering together round bonfires, wearing bobby hats and scarves and eating lovely food. It's so rare to find a community bonfire now. We seem to have put all our efforts into huge expensive firework displays or dragging our kids round the streets in terrible witchy dresses.

There is one more thing about Halloween that makes me uncomfortable. I am old fashioned enough to believe that not all of it is good fun, that there are things in this world that are not good for us and should be avoided. There is an undercurrent of "bad" to the whole thing, that I could do without.

I understand that for our American friends, the whole thing is far more wholesome and family orientated - which is nice. And I am aware, of course, that without Halloween, ET would not have been able to disguise himself and go home. But I am going to let you keep this one for yourselves guys. You are Americans and that is lovely but I am a Brit and different from you. We don't have to do all the things exactly the same do we? 

So if you wouldn't mind staying away from my door next Monday because I am a bit of a party pooper. Oh and while you are at it, if in a couple of months you knock at Martha Towers to "Carol Sing" you better make sure you know more than the line "Away in a Manger...." which you then follow with an expectant stare because the likelihood is that this is another party I am going to poop.

Age

Several worrying signs of ageing to report at the moment. I decided to treat myself to an Amplified Bible. It was only a couple of quid on Amazon but I didn't take the time to check the dimensions. When it arrived, it was nice and compact. Unfortunately, I can hardly read it! Well, that's not strictly true. We have a magnifying glass knocking about and I can read it if I use that but it's a bit embarrassing on the bus!
I have also noticed more and more that I make a noise when I sit down - a sort of oompf noise. 
Worst of all, this has been joined by the problem with my chin. A bristly type problem. This is like a Job sort of thing for me - that which I feared most has come upon me. I know in these days of migrants and Brexit and collapsing economies, this may seem a mere trifle, but I don't do hairy chins. I work with older people and I can deal with most things - I can speak up nice and loud, I can listen to the same story several times and seem interested and I can clean our ladies' loos after incidents. (This is not a frequent occurrence and not in my job description - anywhere - I checked.) I do struggle with a chin though. I work hard (too hard possibly) to fight this scourge of old age.
All these indisputable signs of the march of time can make me a bit depressed, if I let them, because I sort of feel that I haven't finished yet. However, I was reading about Zachariah and Elizabeth this week and I am quite taking to them. They were what the Kings James calls - "well stricken in years" or knocking on a bit as we say round here - maybe in their sixties - some sources say older. Yet they were faithful, true to their heritage and going on with God and still serving.

 During the rule of Herod, King of Judea, there was a priest assigned service in the regiment of Abijah. His name was Zachariah. His wife was descended from the daughters of Aaron. Her name was Elizabeth. Together they lived honourably before God, careful in keeping to the ways of the commandments and enjoying a clear conscience before God. But they were childless because Elizabeth could never conceive, and now they were quite old (Luke 1)

And then - she went and found herself pregnant, surprising even themselves. 
It just made me think, I might be feeling my best days are behind me, the cult of youth is strong these days young Skywalker (sorry) and it is sometimes difficult to see what you are meant to be doing with the rest of your life. But it seems that, once again, God isn't bound by what society (and many churches) say. He reaches in and does the miraculous and it seems not to matter that you or I think it may be too late. And maybe it never is for him.

You know - he's not sick

This follows on from the thinking about how we have structured our society which I was looking at after Sally Phillips' film about Downs Syndrome. (It's a couple of blogs back) If you have time, have a watch it's only a couple of minutes. (I needed a tissue) It's a father talking about his son. His son lives with a terrible diagnosis, yet his father's radical claim says that we don't put him away - we put him first - and all the good and real things follow on afterwards.

It reminded me of this

Matthew 6:33The Message (MSG)

30-33 “If God gives such attention to the appearance of wildflowers—most of which are never even seen—don’t you think he’ll attend to you, take pride in you, do his best for you? What I’m trying to do here is to get you to relax, to not be so preoccupied with getting, so you can respond to God’s giving. People who don’t know God and the way he works fuss over these things, but you know both God and how he works. Steep your life in God-reality, God-initiative, God-provisions. Don’t worry about missing out. You’ll find all your everyday human concerns will be met.

Which is obviously this

Matthew 6:33King James Version (KJV)

33 But seek ye first the kingdom of God, and his righteousness; and all these things shall be added unto you.

What does this dad feel he has missed out on when it comes to a "normal" life? I would guess nothing. I am so challenged at the moment by the radical nature of Jesus' "agenda" and how it is so rarely reflected in me. I'm woolly on this, you are probably all ahead of me. I read on Tracing Rainbows this morning that Ang said she felt she needed to show more love and have more faith. This is certainly true and for me, it maybe needs to be reflected in a completely different set of values about the value of life, getting rid of a stupid fear of missing out and seeing things and people the way that God sees them.

Here endeth the incoherent rant. 

Birthday

Treated myself to some flowers today. Yellow roses to remember my brother because it would have been his birthday today. Spent a smiley half hour wandering home with them and remembering the weekend we decorated Aged Parent's living room. He actually fell off the stepladders and into the wallpaper paste - like Laurel and Hardy. Thought I was seriously going to make a puddle. 
No need to be troubled. Just wanted to mark the day here.

A bit of Hygge

The sun is lower in the sky and yesterday morning, after my usual stumble to the back door to take in a bit of air and let the dog do his ablutions, I noticed that I could see my breath. We are on the cusp of Winter Mes Braves.
I live in Devon and, apart from the occasional anomaly, It's mild. I have very little time for people who complain about the weather round here. It's sometimes very wet. (The heavens tend to open as thousands of holiday makers are pitching tents - it's a bit of a tradition) but basically we are blessed. I am not discounting the absolute horror of those in England who are flooded out year after year by the way. But, in the main, other places have "weather" - think and pray for Haiti for one.
However, the start of Winter can bring with it a kind of lowness. I don't really get SAD or anything. I don't need a lightbox but the lack of sunny days can be a bit of a drag on my senses.
I was very interested in all the hype about Hygge - which is kind of the Danish art of cosiness. A few enterprising people have brought books out about it and good luck to them. I don't think I will be bothering Amazon though - unless I am mistaken the Danish have been practising the flaming obvious. Still - like most obvious things - it still doesn't work unless you actually DO something so here are the things I thought might be useful.

• Cosy up at home. Soon my famous hand-made door curtain will be making an appearance. The V and A have have asked to borrow it for an exhibition on craftsmanship but I have said No! because it keeps out the draughts. We have rugs and throws and stuff all over the place so when I settle down to get depressed watching "999 What's Your Emergency?" I am at least snuggly while it happens.
• Get twinkly. We are a bit hot on the old fairly lights anyway. We use them all year round in the evening which Aged Parent thinks is a bit common. I don't care. I like a candle as well. I find them very cheering. They don't cost a lot yet in the winter walking home, the most welcoming houses are those with a candle flickering I think. 
• Get outside. You will need a scarf and some gloves but getting out in the fresh air as often as you can will get you all tingly in your face. Also you are meant to socialise as often as you do in the summer. I suppose the Danish do their winter socialising in a sauna? (A bit racist?) I never like socialising in a sauna - especially on the night we accidentally went to "Naked if You Feel Like It" night at the Center Parcs spa. Do not talk to me when you have all your bits out. It's a good rule to live by.
• Read. The Telly is only good if you like Strictly or the X Factor. (No one really likes the X Factor.) But tape your best programmes. (I'm sorry - I do still say tape) and spend some more time with books. If possible under a throw with big socks on. The more I look like a vagrant on Criminal Minds - the more comfy I am.
• Skin. Look after your skin. Hand creams, facial oils, lip balms. If you are all cracky and sore you will not enjoy winter at all. Feel free to look after yourself a bit and rub things in that smell nice. Try not to be too greasy on the cushions.
• Pastries. The Danish eat lots of special pastries at this time of year. I can't really. I can't eat one without eating ten and they make my old-lady belly a bit squeaky. You should do so though if you feel you must. Hob Nobs are certainly an acceptable alternative.

There you go. that's your basic Hygge. Saved you a few bob buying the book. You are welcome.

Wading in the Water

To the theatre to see the Alvin Ailey Dance Group. I have to confess that I have a bit of a mixed relationship with watching dance. Last time I went it was to see the critically acclaimed Swan Lake. 
When everyone ran on and did their dancy bit I was quite captivated at first. Then everyone ran off. Then everyone ran on and did what looked like the same dancy bit again. Then everyone ran off. Then they all ran on again. It seemed to go on for a very long time. Also the swan - who I assume was the one in the title, (it's never really made that obvious) seemed to take an awfully long time to die. I mean, he was looking a bit wan through most of it but when he kept swooning and then rallying I began to lose patience. I was on the verge of offering to go up and club it to death myself to put us all out of our misery but apparently that would have been unwelcome.
Alvin Ailey was much more like it as far as I was concerned. 
Point One 
Everyone in it was excessively beautiful. This is very surface of me but I like a lovely looking gang of jiggy people.
Point Two
It was very accessible, split into twenty minute segments. There were two intervals which might have invited excessive alcohol consumption at the bar if the price of a glass of wine were not the same as six bottles from Aldi.
Point Three
The music - atmospheric hip-hop through to old time gospel - was fantastic. The sight of twenty people dancing rather wonderfully to Wade in the Water makes all the tingles happen on the back of your neck. 
Highly Recommended.

Samaritan Muscles

Whenever we go to London, if we choose things to do that only one of us want to go to, the pact is that the other person goes and goes in a good humour even if it is something we are not that fussed about. HOH came with me to Westminster Abbey and remained patient as I wandered captivated among tombs of the great and the good and I went with him to the National Gallery to see some paintings. We went to see an exhibition of the painting collections of famous painters. So we looked at the private collections of people like Joshua Reynolds, Matisse, Freud and a few people I had never heard of but what do I know?

I thought it was fascinating actually. I am no expert but some of these paintings were breathtaking and I am always struck by seeing famous paintings in the flesh - probably because I am a bit shallow. I particularly liked this one by Jacopo Bassano (no idea). It is a painting of the Good Samaritan. If you squint, you can probably see the religious people who ignored the man who fell amongst thieves, sneaking away in the background. What struck me about this was how much the Samaritan is putting in to helping the victim. He is really having to put his back into it. It is not just an inconvenience - it's a strain. He has bound wounds, brought the donkey over and is heaving the man onto it. Everything taking effort. It's impressive I think; the way it shows kindness. Kindness is a very muscular sort of phenomenon. No wishy-washy thinking of nice thoughts and not doing anything about it here. Sometimes I find the most pathetic kindnesses difficult - I'm a bit shy of the Big Issue seller or phoning someone who is unwell is a big effort for me. Not because I don't care - just because I wonder if they will think I am interfering. Sometimes I suppose you just need to roll your sleeves up and get on with it - like this chap here. If you want to make a kindness impact you have to get over yourself a bit.

Rediscovery

When I did A Level English (It was a long time ago - I think Moses was in my class) we read Corridors of Power by C P Snow.

In those days we would work our way through a book by taking turns to read a bit of it out loud in class. (I'm not sure how they work through books in class these days - probably by entering some kind of virtual reality portal together) Reading round the classroom was guaranteed to kill any interest a book may have had stone dead as bored, droney voices are not conducive to falling in love with a story. One particular girl, who wasn't paying attention, informed the room that the hero of the book "felt as though he had been missilled" (as in from a torpedo tube rather than misled - which was how the protagonist really felt.) This immediately entered the vocabulary of the whole class and even now sometimes something can "missile" me.

The other legacy was an immediate falling in love with the characters in the Strangers and Brothers series. I didn't just read the curriculum book, I went to the library and worked my way through the whole series. (It would probably have been more helpful to my A Level prospects to pay more attention to the book we had been assigned but there you are) Anyway, the last couple of times I was mooching in charity shops, I came across old copies of two of the books. They are a bit battered and the print is a lot smaller than I remember but reading them feels like meeting old friends and it is actually a very nice thing. 

Worry

"The Bible says that the Lion will lay down with the lamb but it doesn't necessarily say that the lamb will get much sleep." Woody Allen

This is a much quoted (and probably mis-quoted) Woody Allen quotation. I struggled to find the original quote and this may well not be right. In fact it is loosely based on Isaiah 11:6 This is it in the Message.

The wolf will romp with the lamb,
    the leopard sleep with the kid.
Calf and lion will eat from the same trough,
    and a little child will tend them.
Cow and bear will graze the same pasture,
    their calves and cubs grow up together,
    and the lion eat straw like the ox.


This bit comes just after the promise of the coming of Jesus - a Green Shoot from Jesse's stump. It's a lovely bit of the Bible - full of hope and promise. The thing that the Woody Allen quote does to me (apart from making me snigger like a two year old behind my hand because I am not sure if I should be laughing at it) is it reminds me that sometimes - even in the mist of the miraculous - when I can see God working on my behalf or I know that he is more than able to sort things - I can still choose to chew things over. I still tend to continue to worry and to fret as if God can do nothing. I have known myself so fraught about something, that even if God does sort it, I am too exhausted by worry to enjoy it. It's my choice. I can do as I am told and leave worry behind for peace that comes with believing that God does miracles - or I can carry around my personal basket of woes and keep dipping into it. As a young person (and everyone is young these days I find) said at the front of church - "God is always up to something" And I think he is, it is up to me whether or not I join in.

Special

Plymouth Herald

*Walks in dragging soapbox behind.*

You may wish to go elsewhere but I am going to sound a bit miserable.

Aren't the Paralympics amazing? It is so good to see that, after all the dire warnings about the whole thing collapsing in a heap of indifference and lack of finances, everything is going very well indeed.
Looking at the athletes, I am so impressed by them and everything that they have achieved and it is heartening how far we have come in our acceptance of the disabled into our society. The thing is, however, that these athletes are very easy to admire. The setbacks they have overcome, the dreams that have come true for them, they are marvellous. They are also very unusual - a tiny, tiny proportion of the disabled in this country. So what if you are disabled but without the charms of Ellie Simmonds or the hotness rating of Jonnie Peacock?
Last week a lady who works for us had a genius idea to increase our profile in the city. She organised a Sponsored Scoot - arranging for a group of mobility scooter users to "conga" through the city. The newspaper covered the event and all went well, except when we read the comments section below the picture above, when it appeared on the paper's website. Many of the comments were unedifying, with reference to scooters getting in the way and the obesity of the riders. You don't have to be Doctor Bob to know that there are many causes of obesity - not everyone who is overweight is eating for England. For example, one of our clients has severe Spina Bifida. Her movements are laboured and exercise is impossible. Another has a drug regime which leads to weight gain. Everything is not always as it seems at first glance.
So before we all pat ourselves on the back because of how far we have come with our acceptance of the disabled, the truth is that we still have a long way to go. Not all disabled people qualify under our definition of "Special" where we look at these fantastic athletes and are amazed by what they achieve. When we make equal amounts of room in society for those who deal with pain every morning and those for whom a trip to town takes gargantuan amounts of planning and guts - then, I think, we can talking a bit more about having sorted out this equality stuff.. 

Points To Note

Ed Balls is on Strictly - Hurrah! Love Ed Balls. Am trying to ignore that one of the finest minds in politics (whatever your political persuasion - this is a true thing) is spending Saturday nights putting his considerable brain to use in remembering steps to the Argentine Tango. I mean, I love a bit of dumbing down as much as the next person but really.

FOW2 returns to Exeter University tomorrow. Bit early but as she has a weekend job selling expensive face cream to Chinese students who seem to have money to burn - she is going back to make that easier. (Last week, I spent an idle thirty seconds waiting for zebra crossing lights to change, counting the designer labels on a young, beautiful Chinese student standing next to me. I got to seven before the little green man flashed.) 

For those of you feeling sorry for me because we are sprog free (or jealous, depending on how you feel about these things) do not worry for FOW1 is returning to the fold in a couple of weeks. Doing a Masters has taken it out of him and he feels some time in the bosom of his family - having his meals cooked and forgetting how to close drawers after himself, is just what the doctor ordered. 

I am possibly the only person in the United Kingdom who isn't that keen on Sunday Night Telly. Although Poldark certainly has its charms and I am sure Victoria is ably filling Downton sized holes, they just don't do it for me. I apologise - I am sure it is my fault. I am not sure why. Anyway HOH has claimed telly to watch Beck on catch up. I saw the first charred body and retired to the kitchen.

Am loving Bake Off. There is just something so lovely about it. All that smiling through gritted teeth and laughing when you want to cry as your gingerbread London skyline falls over. It is truly a great programme. Can I ask - would anyone ever really want a gingerbread structure commemorating a great event in your life? Not me I don't think. I'd just rather have that raspberry cake thing that Selasi made last week. I reckon I could get all that in my mouth in one go. 

Went to Woody Allen film Cafe Society as promised. I always expect to get heckled as I go in to Woody Allen films for obvious and perfectly understandable reasons. However, I liked the film as usual - even though, these days, you often feel you have seen him make this film twenty times before, it still makes me laugh. 

Anyway, Monday tomorrow. The leaves are falling, it's dark in the morning, HOH has his Autumn cold and Cardworld has Christmas cards in. I don't get my cards from Cardworld because I feel a bit guilty about sending cards that are so cheap that you can see through them. Also, I don't send cards. Not really. 

I leave you with Aged Parent's damming conclusion about her friend who as just had an upsetting diagnosis. It is both anatomically uncertain and upsetting in its finality but that's old people for you.

"He has three cancers - one in his prostrate, one in his lung and one in a very dodgy place indeed. So that's it if you ask me."

Childish

I am in the middle of a cinema fallow period. We go to the flicks a lot but there hasn't been a lot to see this summer - not the stuff I like anyway. HOH has been to see the Bourne movie and liked it very much. FOW1 has enjoyed seeing a bikini clad Blake Lively, on a rock in the sea being terrorised by a shark I have no idea if the main attraction was Blake Lively in a swimsuit or the actual film. Probably a bit of both. As FOW 2 is a film student she has not been too bothered about leaving alone for a while. I wanted to go to the pictures so I dragged various people to two children's films. There is a lot of creativity (and money) going in this direction.

First up was The BFG. Steven Spielberg's version of the beloved Roald Dahl book. And it really is beloved - in this house as well as loads of others, so the film-makers are up against that before they even start. We had a cassette tape that we used to play in the car that miraculously turned trips where children were in danger of being abandoned at motorway service stations to journeys where everyone was giggling hysterically. A real gift. Spielberg's version is very good, beautifully produced and written. Everyone is great in it and if you have no emotional attachment to the book - it is perfectly fine. For me - it wasn't my BFG so it wasn't quite the same. 

The next thing I went to see was Finding Dory - The Pixar cartoon. This was equally lovely. The tiny baby Dory is almost worth the ticket price alone. There is a very clever piece where Dory - who has short term memory loss - gets lost and her panic and bewilderment are supposedly based on the feelings of people with dementia. It was very moving. Also moving and I think a bit pinched from stories I have read about God's grace - is a bit where Dory fears her parents have forgotten her and finds out that they really REALLY haven't. It's lovely. 

There are certainly worse ways to spend a couple of hours. Me, I am on alert now for the new Woody Allen - due on Friday. I know, I know. I just love the films. What can I say?

T'Internet Thinking

If I speak God’s Word with power, revealing all his mysteries and making everything plain as day, and if I have faith that says to a mountain, “Jump,” and it jumps, but I don’t love, I’m nothing.

1 Corinthians 13

I have, as you may have noticed been a bit taken aback by the Internet. Ah, the Internet. Where would we be without the Internet? There is a compelling argument that we would be doing very nicely thank you very much but we can’t deny that life is very different under the influence of the Internet. I love the Internet for lots of things – I love watching the telly at night and as I grope though my failing faculties and find I really can’t remember where I have seen that actress before, it really is great to be able to just slam her name into a search engine and get my sanity back. I love Social Media (mostly) I have friends and family all over the place and being able to see what they are up to is a great blessing for the vast majority of the time. (Sometimes I would rather not know to be honest but that is probably as a result of my own extensive capacity to worry and I need to get over it.)

Do you know what I hate on the Internet? All the pontificating. Do you know what I hate even more on the Internet? Christian Pontificating. Nothing makes my heart sink faster than someone I have never heard of, asking to follow me or popping up in my Inbox, and then reading on their bio “Amy/ Adam is a modern day prophet who speaks wisdom into YOUR life” Oh Good. Looking forward to it. Why are they picking on me? The Internet is full of people who have at last found the platform they were waiting for. They have a place at last to tell everyone how they think it should be done and they are going to do it. Now there is a place for wisdom and sharing of that wisdom. There is a place for those who have studied and developed their thinking to share that what they have found with us. In the olden days that used to be called preaching. I also know that some of the great minds have sat together and reasoned and come away with deep insights into the Word of God that they have passed on and these have cooled our struggling souls. That used to be called writing a book.

I can get very intimidated by the opinion formers and the wise (these are not necessarily the same people). They shout loudly, they obviously know stuff, they certainly know more than me, although that’s a low bar to be honest. Some of these people though define themselves by the fact that they can teach us. They find their security in their superiority. They forget sometimes to remind us that it isn’t about that camp or this camp. You don’t always need to choose a banner to march under. There are people out there that need someone to love them and ask questions afterwards.

As my old mother would say ...

I am an old person now, I will not try to deny it. But have you ever looked at something and thought "What is that?" Katie Hopkins' Tweet about the young men who lost their lives on Camber Sands has probably had too much publicity already but I just can't make it compute in my head. What was it meant to achieve? Clicks? Notoriety? There are five families and many more friends grieving for sons who won't come home after a day trip to the beach. This is a real thing - not an Internet thing, not an opinion piece. I assume Katie Price loves her children. I would have thought she would have some empathy for these people. What on earth is behind it? Then I thought about it and a phrase my often bewildered Aged Parent uses "What is it all coming to? It's wicked isn't it?" Wicked - "evil or morally bad in principle or practice". It's not a word I use very often, but here it seems to fit well. "Wicked" - wicked to poke fun at the grieving and wicked to use their sorrow to advance your own faintly dubious career. It's a strong word but it fits I think.

A Day and a Life

You never know with a book do you? If anyone had told me how much I would mourn the passing of a series if books about a 15th century monastery and the people who live in and around it, I would have struggled to believe it. Yet here it is - the last in the Hawk and the Dove series by Pen Wilcock and I for one will certainly miss it. 
The monks are not there as an excuse to talk about ideas. They are presented as fully rounded human beings - with all the faults and lovely things that humans have, examined in equal measure. Father Peregrine - initially misunderstood but eventually adored is a personal favourite.  First and foremost, these are great stories where lots of things happen to people you really care about. Then you start to see how life has shaped these people and continues to do so. Their faith in God is often tested but God is also is their bedrock. 
In this final instalment, a novice goes missing. His absence affects everyone as they worry and pray for him. However, life goes on and the various members of the monastery continue to fulfil their very necessary responsibilities in the group.
In some ways this quite a courageous way to finish a series. An awful lot of stuff happens in the previous books. In this - not so much. You get to read about disciplines and individuals and their place in the community. If you are interested in these books, I would suggest that you don't start here. (Why would you? It's the last one in the series!) I would start with the first one (unsurprisingly) and I really do recommend the life affirming people of St Alcuin to you.