Blah Days

When my brother was little he would get really, really excited about the coming of a big event, such as Christmas or his birthday. He would struggle to sleep for a few nights and on the day itself, he would be bouncing round like a demented Tigger. Then for a few days afterwards there would be no coping with him. He would be moody, sulky and generally depressed. My Mum would describe this and would say
"He's having an anticlimax he is." Although we were never sure if that was quite the right word, everyone got what she meant and the phrase has now passed into Hargreaves Towers' vocab.
I think we are all having an anticlimax here at the moment. Birthdays done for a while, exams mostly over, back from lovely break, financial detox (caused by lovely break) in place. Just basically having to knuckle down to work and everyday life.
Facebook doesn't help here of course. Every time you go on you are greeted by fifty people shouting "Had FABULOUS day at spa/Glastonbury/with 50 of my closest friends/at Take That concert etc. which can make a coffee at lunch with a chum seem a bit inadequate. (I think I may be the only woman in the country who is over 21 and didn't want to see Take That. I don't dislike them or anything, just don't er, care. Does that make me a bad person?) Apparently, this is a recognised phenomenon. Because so many people only post on Facebook when they are doing something interesting and, for obvious reasons, don't tend to put much on there about clipping their toenails or arguing with the dog, it can give the impression that everyone else but you is living the life of a modern day Marie Antoinette (Before all the guillotine type nastiness obviously.) This has led to depressions and all that sort of stuff  because you think that all the good stuff seems to be happening just round the corner and you never seem to experience it. (I found Paris a bit like that.) Can't say it has had that effect on me particularly because well, it's only Facebook. I love it but its not real life.
Anyway blah days. Love them or loathe them, we all have to knuckle down sometimes and get on with it. There are compensations to blah days. It is quite nice to have the ironing up to date (well at least to the point where I can put the lid on the ironing box) and getting to the bottom of your in-tray can sometimes mean that you find the file with the urgent stuff that you lost a month ago. (I'm not talking about me there or anything) And loads of spare time can mean more time for the 30 Rock box set.

Read a bit of Spurgeon this week (as you do) really good stuff on the effectiveness of a two word prayer. "Help Lord". I am sometimes a bit hesitant about petitionary prayer - treating God as my personal slot machine but Spurgeon pointed out that asking God for stuff is a form of worship. It acknowledges his position as God. Which is brilliantly simple when you think about it which is probably what Spurgeon did. That is probably why he was a great theologian and I am not.

Wish I could say I was above all this but cannot wait. Fruit of Womb 2 slums it and always sees this with me on our own first so we can dissect and discuss. We are seriously considering going for late night first showing with all the strange people who dress as goblins. Well, it is the last one...

What I did on my holidays

And she's back in the room. With one bound I have returneth from the wild country known as Cornwall, where all the rumours of men running round with burning barrels on their backs - just for kicks - appear to be true. Anyway, please notice above the photo is the view from our hotel room balcony no less. Vair, vair lovely as the young people say.

We have mooched for England. A wander here, a nosey there, a stuffing your face with fish suppers everywhere. And we hoovered up culture like a culture hoovering-up thing. The Tate. The Hepworth. Now I love my kids as you know but the oh the joy of wandering through these places without stage whispers behind me of  "Is this the last room or what?" or " Did you notice if there was a cafe?". Twas lovely.

Now, me and Modern Art. I have absolutely no idea what is going on. I find a lot of it very puzzling indeed and, to be totally honest, I do sometimes suspect that a lot of it is gold plated do-dahs. However, it is true that if I take my time and have a think about what I am seeing, I feel that I do learn things sometimes. I have even had quite emotional reactions to paintings such as a Rothiko and a Matisse. No idea why. Sometimes I just like the colours.

So to the Tate Modern in St Ives. Much as I love it, I do want to put in a slight complaint. Every time I have been, the people on the till who are there to sell you your entrance ticket seem totally baffled by the fact that people want to come up to them and purchase a ticket to see the pretty pictures. They are completely overwhelmed by a queue of two. Initially, this was quite charming but its wearing a bit thin now. 

Hargreaves.. Two combined tickets - Adults please

Tatey Chap..Er. Two?

Hargreaves..Yes Adults, please.

Tatey Chap.. Two adults? Er together?

Hargreaves..Yep. Two adults. Combined tickets please.

Tatey Chap..So that's two adults, combined tickets?

Hargreaves..Er yes (still)

You're lucky we're not still standing there. Anyway one of the best rooms was the entry area which was filled with balloons. Like this.

This  was good  on its own but, even better, you could go into to the room! You had to read some health and safety stuff before you went in. (A few dipped out at this point. especially the Americans who seemed to actually believe English Health and Safety warnings) But it was genuinely unsettling. When you moved right in and couldn't see the floor or the sky you kind of panicked a bit. No, it wasn't just me and I didn't cry or anything. Head of House took some photos of me but the balloons made my hair stand on end  and to be quite frank I spend enough time humiliating myself for your entertainment so they won't be posted here.

So we had a great time all in all, thanks for asking. There have been some rumblings at Hargreaves Towers as we announced when we got home, that we had overspent and whole family was now to be subject to an economy drive 'till pay day. It's not just about you sprogs you know.

Jesus said, "Come off by yourselves; let's take a break and get a little rest." Mark 6:30

Just struck by how lovely this is. There's so much to do and I can feel guilty if I ever stop. This seems so simple and non pressured. Just stopping for a while. Everything will still be there when you come back. My theory, for what its worth, is that if Jesus said something, then there is a strong truth in it. Is it blasphemy to say that this is such a good example of the gentle wisdom of Jesus? (When I say gentle, I don't mean soppy or anything - don't send the Christian Police round) It's just that not every profound truth is accompanied by a flaming sword and an accompaniment of apocalyptic horses - doesn't make it any less important.

Rest and Play

Another Bank Holiday. Head of House was working and everyone else - friends and offspring alike either revising for, sitting or recovering from exams so no one was playing out. So I retired to the kitchen for the afternoon to make meatballs for tea and experiment with new recipe for strawberry cake. (Very nice, thanks for asking. The fruit made it a bit moist for my personal taste but, like most things in life, it was much improved by the addition of good ice cream)
I usually listen to 5 Live when I am in the kitchen but as all the news is about Cheryl Cole and I am a bit off football after all the shenanigans with Percy Pigs (I'm still not sure what the policy is on naming him in print - can't be too careful I suppose) I turned to Radio 2. Where-Oh Joy it was the French and Saunders Radio Show. There then followed a lovely two hours full of gentle humour and silliness. I especially loved the riff about what happens when you get into a bath that's too hot but you put up with it because you think it will cool down in a minute and then you notice that your legs are bright red and that your pulse is racing and you feel a bit faint. Why do we do that? Anyway, I spent a lovely productive afternoon and didn't miss 5 Live at all. Maybe Bryan Goggs (again, careful not to use the real name) should play away more often. Not that I approve or anything.
We have started to book tickets for summer holiday in London. If everything takes as long as deciding what theatre to see, we will proabably miss the whole thing. Watch and wonder as our suggestions are dismissed by the offspring - without any alternative suggestions.
Parents. What about Les Miserables?
Sprogs. It's like an opera isn't it? Can't cope with two hours of watching "the poor" squawking and moaning.
Parents. The Betrayal - Harold Pinter?
Sprogs. Too depressing. People trying to slit their wrists with the ice cream spoons at half time.
Parents. Legally Blond?
Sprogs. Musical theatre is just weird. People talking then bursting into song for no reason.
And so it went on... until
Parents. Warhorse?
Sprogs. Any singing?
Parents. Don't think so.
Sprogs. Any scenes that will make us squirm because we are sat with our parents.
Parents. Probably not - it's taken from a children's book.
Sprogs. Doesn't look like a lot of laughs but It's about the best I suppose.

You're welcome I'm sure. We also booked tickets for tour of Houses of Parliament. Fortunately, this is during the summer recess which has reduced the chances of Eldest Fruit of Womb doorstepping Nick Clegg and asking him how he sleeps at night.
It's all very hard work arranging some time to rest. Especially when teenagers are involved. Listen. I'm sloping off now. I have a couple of days in St Ives with Head of House to celebrate staggering to 50. Just a couple of thoughts. Thanks so much for all the comments on Facebook etc. Good to know you like the stuff. Comments should be working on blog now as well.
Also. I have to tell you that sometimes, I really struggle with this Devon accent. This morning I was certain that someone announced from the front of church that Jesus Christ was sent as an Italian sacrifice for all. That can't be right can it?
Lastly, a famous video clip just to remind you that however you feel you have things organised and under control - your lovely offspring are always capable of frightening the living daylights out of you.

Now we are old

Well, here it comes. 50 next month. I know, I know, who would have thought it? So I thought of sharing a few things with you about all that I have learned over the past half century. Things that may enrich and inform you and that you can take with you into your lives. Then I thought, Nah, who wants to listen to all that and anyway, what do I know? So I'll just tell you a few things I have discovered to be inescapably true about getting older.

1. After the menopause, for all but the most genetically stick thin, it really is an uphill battle. I walk approximately 3 miles a day what with getting to and from work, walking dogs and getting youngest Fruit of Womb to bus stop (now eldest has selfishly left school). I think twice before every cake I eat, even if I do usually eat it anyway but I know that for the rest of my life I will be fighting so that when I turn sideways and look at myself in the mirror my belly doesn't come out any further than my bust.
2. It's not the wrinkles that bother me, it's the general facial flabbiness. My skin isn't bad but there seems to be a lot more of it under the chin area. Also, holding back the grey hair seems to mean getting the dye out more often. My friend is a year older than me, naturally grey and she looks fantastic. So does that french woman who wants to run the world's finances. Am definitely thinking of giving it a go. (Going grey naturally - not running for head of the IMF)
3. It's not so much that I don't want to go out. Really I still do. But I find that when I am home, I really like it and, whats more, when I was snuggled up on the sofa, I found my self thinking how nice it would be to have a blanket. No truly, I did. And I don't care.
4. I am subject to strange crushes. I find the strangest chaps attractive, Steve Martin, Kevin Spacey,  etc. Its like obviously the Cloonster is attractive, but its more an appreciation than all out fancying. Have checked this out with equally aged Head of House and it is not just female phenomenon. Germaine Greer being his unusual crush of choice. Of course this could have something to do with next point.
5. I can't see! No really. It's all a blur. The optician assures me that its just natural degeneration but, if I forget my glasses, I either have to peg to Primark to get a £2 pair or borrow the engineer's spare pair which is an interesting look.
6. I hate 99% of everything on the telly. What is going on? I don't get X Factor, Britain's Got Talent etc. Since when did laughing at people who are borderline mentally ill become a national pastime? And, I'd rather scoop my own eyes out with a spoon that watch another episode of Sweet 16 blah blah.
7. Like they all said they would, simple pleasures have become more important. I like a nice view, a comfy bench, not being cold, cake, a glass of red wine (two glasses and next morning, I will feel like my brain is trying to make a break for it through my skull) a chat and a really good laugh.

Despite all this whingeing, and to be honest, I have cut it short - for instance, if they ever make being tired an Olympic sport. No, no more I promise. As I was saying, despite all this, I am still very grateful. In spite of the ravages of age, I have been able to be here to help bring up our sprogs and that is the main thing, especially when, a long time ago, a doctor told us that that was unlikely. And, even now, there is so much more to do. Not just offspring parenting but lots of other stuff too. All I have to do is raise the energy to do it.

Gratitude 2 - The Revenge

Well its part two of gratitude and this was the only sequel title I could think of. So having decided that gratitude is a good thing, then what?
Like most things that are good for you (Healthy eating, exercise, loving relationships, watching Doctor Who) it doesn't just happen. A certain amount of  organisation, discipline and just basically getting off your backside is necessary. Thought I might suggest some practical helps, whether you asked for it or not but when has that ever stopped me?
When my friend Emma ran a pre school at the church I worked in she would say to the children that a verb is a DOING word. (Quite loudly actually) and gratitude is a DOING word in much the same way.
1. I would always recommend a journal. If you are an international technical expert with decently plucked eyebrows and a designer handbag you might want to use your mobile. But for me, by the time I have worked out how to actually put the info into the phone, I have usually forgotten the thought. I personally prefer a notebook. It doesn't have to be lovely, although that helps some people. The advantage that paper has is that there's something about writing that holds a memory the way nothing else can. I also stick bit and pieces in there - yep with glue. Then write a list. Prayers, thoughts and against that, all the things you are grateful for now. Go back to the list, see what was answered, say thanks.
2. Say thanks to other people. Slam them an email, go up to them after church or whenever, give them a call or send them a card. Cards are good. People get them in the post along with all the dross. They keep them in their undies draw and come across them when they need encouragement. I find that I have to say to my kids "This is a pen and when you drag it across a piece of paper, it makes a mark. We call this writing." Email is better than nothing and sometimes its the only contact you may have but more personal things are better still.
3. It's not all about you. Don't just say thanks to people who do nice stuff for you. In your church, people are working like Trojans to keep the place on track. Think about noticing that. If a shop assistant is nice to you. Be nice back.  Local charity workers in Plymouth with lots of volunteers would love a thank you just sometimes instead of loads of moaning all the flippin' time...(slightly personal that, sorry) - you get the idea.
Last week, I had to say thank you to someone who had given me some advice I didn't like. Didn't do it straight away. Not because I was sulking (for a change) but just because I had other stuff on. However, once the dust had settled - I went back and said thanks. Consider thanking people who were right  - even if its retrospectively.
Its now up to you to get DOING.
Very nice meal out thank you. Lovely table and view over the Hoe. Very nice food. Unfortunately we manged to time the trip out so we found ourselves smack in the middle of quiz night but I knew the answer to at least five of the questions in the sport round so win-win, I think you'll find.
Sorry for the length of this post but just wanted to talk a bit about the footballer/super injunction thing. The footballer's name is out there now,  I guess we all thought he was one of the good guys but there you go. All I'll say is that when he says - "You can't reveal this because it will hurt my wife, humiliate my children and destroy my credibility." Whatever happened to "I can't sleep with this person because it will hurt my wife, humiliate my children and destroy my credibility." Call me old fashioned if you feel you must.

Longitude or Latitude.....

....my attitude is gratitude

Victoria Wood

This blog's title is pinched from a Victoria Wood sketch. (I prefer to say its an homage - please say with French accent for effect)
One day I would like to write a book about this. It will be loosely titled "Things that Christians knew already but the rest of the world thinks they were the first to discover it but Christians don't exactly live it anyway so no wonder everyone else thinks that they discovered it." It's a bit unwieldy for a title I'll give you that but, its a work in progress.
After years of suspecting as much, scientists have now found actual evidence that a life filled with gratitude actually has health benefits. See here for one of the main studies.
When I was a child in church, still balancing my crochet hat precariously on the back of my head and trying desperately to learn to play guitar without any discernible talent because that was what young Christian people did, we would sing a hymn and, at every chorus, tuck our book under our arm, (we were too poor for an OHP) clap loudly and sing "Count your Blessings". Now you see, everyone is jumping on the bandwagon. Gratitude lowers blood pressure, helps you to sleep, improves your relationships and grateful people live longer. In Luke 17 v 11 Jesus makes the comparison between gratitude, faith and health. Hah! Interesting don't you think that an untrained carpenter living 2000 years ago should have such insight. (Cue dramatic "dang, dang, dang" music)

As usual, I'm not talking from a position of nah nah, I've got this right. When we used to sing "When you look at others with their lands and gold" I used to think - wish it was me and I don't think I've progressed that much really. Still, like most stuff, just because I don't do it all the time doesn't mean it's not true. Gratitude at its most effective when you struggle to find something to be grateful about. At those times, it sometimes helps me to make a list. Watch Woody Allen get over himself.

On another subject. If I were a maths teacher and one of my pupils (who also happens to be Fruit of Womb Two) posted on Facebook "If all exams are that hard - I'm going to run away and live in the woods" then gets 30 likes   - I would be slightly concerned about the results. Just saying.

On a more positive note, Head of House and Yours Truly celebrate 20 years of the old marriage on Wednesday. And they said it wouldn't last. Well some of my Mum's friends did.  Anyway, a chum has sorted us out a waterfront table at the er "Waterfront". Looking forward to it. Don't get out much at our time of life.

Time - it takes it out of you

Apologies for the poor photo of the mantelpiece in the back room. Hargreaves Towers' Official Photographer is busy in the kitchen putting the shopping away while listening to obscure Northern Soul with his earphones. The rest of the family will not interrupt as they are deriving too much pleasure sniggering while he sings, unaware of loud he is.
Anyway, wanted to talk about time a bit as you may have noticed. I recently received the welcome news that I had won a writing competition. Excellent. Really chuffed. But then it came. As I knew it must. The email asking for the photo to accompany the piece. "Head and shoulders. Facing the camera please."  Everyone in the house tenses up. Your mission - should you chose to accept it is -  To obtain a semi decent photo of Mum. It's a tough job. Smiling or not smiling? Wry or serious? Then the rejections. Out - I look bald. Out - I look like Yoko Ono. Out - I look mad. Out - I look like a bald, mad , Yoko Ono.
Then I apologise. "I've never taken a good photo" I say. Head of House replies kindly. "It's not true. We are just getting old."
After wondering uncharitably, "Is he saying I look old?" I have to agree. I think most of us think they will have found the cure for age by the time we get old - but they never do. But there is so much to do still and where will I find the time? Well, I could start with the time snatchers. We all probably have these. Things we do that just slowly, almost un-noticed, snatch the time away. I'll tell you a few of mine . Please take care to notice how spiritual they all are

1. ENews! If I watch it, it takes an hour and I've hardly ever heard of anyone on it. Do I really need to know where the third vampire from the left in Twilight buys her frocks? Yet still I sit in front of it like its packed to the draw strings with A-Listers. I need to stop. (This does not include Fashion Police with Joan Rivers which is essential viewing)
2. Facebook games. Facebook is fine. I go on for a while then go away. It's the games that suck you me in. How long trying to get a fish to spit bubbles up a tube? I'm a grown woman for goodness sake.
3.Houseporn This is pure nosiness and dead easy with the advent of the Internet. I can spend many an hour grubbing around other people's cupboards.
4. Moneysavingexpert.com A bit different as this can be quite useful but I can disappear into the forum for days on end. Still, did get a very good recipe for fish pie and I can make my shower gel last a lot longer.
5. Head of House wants me to add "The Mentalist" to this list but I like it. We can't all be watching moody French police serials with policewomen who look like they need a good wash. (Spiral - I'm talking about you.)
You probably have lots of your own time wasters. For me, I know I need to deal with it. I truly don't want to be a woman with an untrimmed, un-oily, oil lamp when time runs out just because I spent so much time wasting the precious time God gives us. All advice gratefully received.

Random Week

Have had about ten days off work (using only 3 leave days - yes I was one of those annoying people. Tough - you should have spotted it sooner if you wanted it) So, you would think that I would have lots of extra time for thinking wise thoughts which I could then form into beautiful sentences which I could then share with you. However, here in Martha World, despite my best efforts, I have not really used the week to produce much of value to the kingdom (unless you include a cleared out back room and a bit of light gardening) so its all quite random really but hopefully enjoyable (ish)

The photo above is of our newest thing to join the house. What you can just about see is a label stuck to the chair which says "Yours if you want me". Head of House found it sitting in one of Plymouth's rather lovely service lanes and brought it home. Not easy, as he was out walking two Jacks at the time which brings challenges all of its own.  If I had got my act together I could probabably have brought you a lovely thought about Jesus being a free gift from God but I won't insult you (or Jesus) with a link so embarrassing. At this point mother will usually ring and in some despair tell me that if things are so bad that we are picking things off the street that she will send us some money if we want it but we like it when this happens. How green are we? I have instructed Head of House that I would like it painted in that Cath Kidston putty colour that is everywhere - asap please. I will report back on developments. PS Mum - send money anyway if you want to.

I suppose the main event this week was the Royal Wedding - oh you did so watch it - do stop it, no one is impressed. (This includes eldest Fruit of Womb who is grumbling all over Facebook about it being "just a wedding") The things I took from it were that it was nice to see Christianity up front and centre for a change and listening to a Bishop openly having a go at in your face secularism made another welcome change. On a less spiritual note I did find myself wondering if, with all the funds at his disposal, William couldn't have investigated a sort of secret, bit by bit, hair transplant thing. Maybe he's not that bothered. It just seems a shame to me. he brings the Windsors compassion, humanity, modernity and a gift for reaching the ordinary man and all he gets from them is male pattern baldness.

Oh and by the way I expect you will be wondering - what is it like to be a trendsetter? Indeed to be twenty years ahead of your time, so that even princesses are copying your wedding dress design? Well I have learned to cope with being so cutting edge although its not always easy. All I will say is that my personal dress designer - Miss J Watson - used to live in Bolton and now lives in Angelsey which is, I believe, where a certain royal couple live. A coincidence? I think not.

As I have little of worth to bring you, I thought I would pass on something from our pastor this week. He spoke on Saul's conversion on the road to Damascus and called the sermon - "The King's got one more move". So imagine being the early Christian church being ravaged by percecution and you pray for help and what does God do? He saves your worst enemy. Who saw that coming? No one I bet. Maybe God always has a plan to help us in whatever situation we are in and maybe its more radical than anything we could think of. Makes me more hopeful about God making things come right in the end.

Just wanted to link to cartoon someone sent about rat incident couple of weeks ago. Mike's a talented artist but I did wonder about the size of the rat. Seemed a bit big to me. However Sprog Two insists that it was actually larger than that - about eighteen feet long judging by her description. Oh well. (cue deep sigh) Back to work then.

Easter Thoughts

Better late than never for Easter things, you are probably thinking but I've had a lot on. I've also been a bit put off from leaving Christian women thoughts of any kind because I've been reading proper Christian lady thoughts by proper Christian women and have been left feeling inadequate as usual. If you don't know what I mean, have a look here
I'm not having a dig at this honest. It makes me feel like I'm playing at it.  But, this would never work in my house. I can't make soap, chickens terrify me and neither of my kids will wear the bonnet.
Anyway, this is a photo of our first beach barbeque of the year. It was actually warmer than it looks and very pleasant indeed. In my usual housewifely way, I forgot to take cutlery so had to add mayo to BBQ chicken salad by using BBQ tongs (bit messy) Also, we forgot the salad. Always takes us a while to get into the swing of things come beach time. Only three of us there because Eldest Fruit of Womb was at Spring Harvest doing usual spiritual stuff - stealing mattresses, kicking down toilet doors when people are on the loo, caravan jumping and complaining about the worship band. I suppose we will have to get used to more of it just being three of us but it did feel a bit weird.
We went to the beach on Good Friday. We don't make a big thing of it, but I like to be a bit quiet on Good Friday. Try to avoid shopping and all the usual melee in here is toned down a bit. In my life I have seen the day go from preachers in velvet jackets waving fifteen inch rusty nails at you shouting "Bleeding! Dying!" to services where the preacher smiles and says "Why the long faces? The story has a happy ending!" then having to watch a congregation who came in ready for some thoughtful contemplation finding themselves pogo-ing to "O Happy Day" For me, the best way is somewhere in the middle. It is a happy time because it is the day that God's great plan began to move into its final stage but it is also a day to stop and "think about what had to happen for us to benefit" (Head of House's words not mine) I am the queen of the whingers I know, but I am forever grateful.

On completely different note, have received strange email from Next asking me what I will be wearing for "the wedding". So either, I have had an invitation that Next are aware of and I am not, or they are assuming that I will be buying an outfit from them and sitting in front of the telly in full wedding guest regalia. Odd no? Is it me?
On second completely different note. this weekend saw Darling Daughter's fifteenth birthday. Fifteen! She is pleased because she can now get in to see 15 movies. (We'll be the judge of that, lady) and she is awash with money. I am pleased because surprise lunch with her friends at all you can eat Chinese went off without a hitch and me giving game away so my shredded nerves can now recover.
On yet another completely different note, you can now leave comments at the end of all this waffle. Please do - its very comforting. Not sure what was wrong before. Apparently someone had ticked the no comments button. No idea who. You can either put your name, your url details (your details you used if you are a follower) or even anonymous then just comment. Feel free to go back to previous posts. Just don't be too mean. I am a delicate flower as you know.

Appearances can be deceptive

Have spent a happy half hour when I could have been doing something constructive looking at this Photoshop disasters site.   I mean, can we believe our eyes anymore? And these are the ones that poke you in the eye with a sharp stick because they are such fails. What about the ones we don't notice? I'm not bothered so much about the photos where a man's hand pokes through a solid table. Boring. It's the photos of women. The ones where the ladies' waists are tiny and their ning-nangs are enormous. If these aren't real people, aren't we slowly but surely teaching our children to idolise something that is impossible to achieve in real life? If "achieve" is the right word. I know I am old and shrivelled up and all that but I like to think that even when I was young and scrummy, that my life ambitions stretched a bit further than learning to arch my back in just the right way for an alluring photo.
Call me old fashioned (and many do believe me) but I find it all deeply depressing. I understand anyone wanting to look their best and, to use the old saying "If the gate needs a lick of paint - then lets give the gate a lick of paint" but where is the perspective?
I was conversing as you do with someone recently, who said that the Bible verse below from 1 Peter was a bit old fashioned and a bossy.
 ³ Your beauty should not come from outward adornment, such as elaborate hairstyles and the wearing of gold jewelry or fine clothes. ⁴ Rather, it should be that of your inner self, the unfading beauty of a gentle and quiet spirit, which is of great worth in God’s sight.

How so? I asked politely, because polite is what I almost unfailingly am. I was concerned to learn that this passage says that women shouldn't dress nicely or do their hair or wear jewellery or, indeed, have a wash. (OK. I added the last bit for effect) Have a look. Its not what it says. You can do all that with knobs on if you want. It's just that your beauty - the thing that is lovely and attractive and pwoar about you - doesn't come from that. For me, this passage is so lovely, its almost poetry. If it wasn't in the Bible, it would probably be carved in stone somewhere. People act as if you are going to start playing a sitar and singing George Harrison songs when we talk about inner self but deep inside, we do know that this is the most important part of us. It says here that I can cultivate something there, a gentle and quiet spirit, which God thinks is of great worth. Some days I struggle to offer God, even a polite "Good Morning" so the possibility that I could offer God something of great worth is very cheering indeed.
You may think that I have to think this because I am past my prime so to speak and I wouldn't argue with that, but one day, you will be old too (if you are lucky) and when you look at your life, I'm betting that your biggest sense of achievement will not come from that photo where the light caught you just right and your nose didn't even look a bit red.

On the subject of deceptive appearances - a disturbing development. The two lovely cute doggies pictured above have revealed another side. Last week while out walking on the Hoe with Head of House and Fruit of Womb Two they came across a rat. Both lovely dogs immediately turned into wild killing machines, shaking the rat to within an inch of its life, forcing it to seek sanctuary running in and out of daughters legs. This, in turn, provoked equally unfortunate squealing daughter incident, which upset both rat and dogs further and escalated the whole situation. Head of House then had to wade into melee and restore order by adding to general yelling. Rat left scene bloodied but unbowed. Dogs unable to make out what fuss was about. Daughter finishes therapy three weeks on Tuesday. Actually, quite glad I was at work.

Unexpected.

I was hoping to start this post with an impressive photo of my lemon drizzle cake. Unfortunately, it was made on Saturday and this was all that was left by Sunday. It's quite flattering the way it vanished I suppose but it isn't quite what I was aiming for.
Also unexpected this week, we went to see Lenny Henry at the Theatre Royal. (Well we had tickets and everything so that bit wasn't unexpected) I think we thought we would just see straight stand up with a bit about the music he likes. It was a bit of a surprise then, when he began talking, in a really wistful way about how much he would have liked to have a second career in music. Unfortunately, that fell apart when he went to see Trevor Horn who told him that he wasn't committed enough and he would never make it. Made me think a bit about doing the things you really want to and how much you need to commit to putting the effort in. Challenged me on a few things. Not rocket science I know but still sometimes you need to be reminded that if something is important enough it needs work and continual commitment. Can't say I feel sorry for Mr Henry though. At the end of the evening he got over his regret by bringing on a three piece band and belted his way through James Brown covers for three quarters of an hour. So a good time had by all.

Conversation between Head of House and Yours Truly at beginning of Lenny Henry gig.
HOH: John Bishop is here
YT: John Bishop the comedian?
HOH: Yep he's there at the back.
YT: Oh yeh. I can see him.
HOH: Wonder if Dawn French is here tonight?
YT: Can't see her. Suppose she would be sat with John Bishop.
HOH: Sooo. You're saying all famous people know each other.
YT: Er. Possibly.

And on that note that leaves me looking particularly stupid. I leave you with some things the young people are looking at on t'internet.

Firstly - a house that looks like Hitler

On a slightly more edifying note. This http://humblebeast.com/g-o-s-p-e-l/ links to a "sermon" -  . I know I'm probably a good 35 years older than the target audience but quality will out. Its very good.