All things are possibly.

So busy. Everyone is busy. All the blogs I read say how busy they all are. There is a pattern emerging here. Probably. I have been busy actually. Yes indeedy. FOW1 has returned to bother the ancient bones of York along with the rest of the archaeology department. I am weighing up whether or not he said I could tell you about him throwing up at the back of the lecture hall - mid lecture. I can't remember. I'm sure it is ok. It's all over Facebook anyway. Some kind of virus. Possibly. Much better now thank you. Given the virus to lots of other people. 

Back at Martha Towers, the main news, apart from the food bills plummeting as FOW1 closed the front door behind him, is that my baby girl has turned 17. This is definitely a mistake. I do not look anywhere near old enough to have a seventeen year old daughter and I am certain about that. Possibly.

As part of the celebrations  we went shopping to Exeter. Bit rubbish I thought. We seemed to arrive during a Morris Dancers Convention. FOW2 kept asking "Is this really a thing?" John Lewis is so small we sort of walked through the front door, coughed and found ourselves deposited back into the shopping precinct. We did become slightly hysterical on seeing the price of  a pair of  "7 For All Mankind Jeans". but other than that John Lewis made little impact. I think I am used to the one in the Trafford Centre. Possibly. 

I did get cake tin liners from Lakeland. They were too big.

In other news, we have asked to become members at church. We went to a meeting with leadery type people, who seemed nice and normal. I got to listen to HOH's testimony. Haven't heard it for ages. It's not really the sort of thing you share while you are dragging a trolly round Sainsbury's is it? Anyway. Quite forgot how wonderful it was. You know he had no Christian background and had shown no religious inclination. Just the opposite in fact, having practically lived at Wigan Casino (it's a Northern Soul dance venue - not a room full of croupiers and slot machines in case you were wondering) The thing is, someone he worked with just told him. Not a lecture or a preach. Just told him about Jesus. Changed his life.

Where was I? Oh yes membership. I do believe in membership. I'm just not a very good joiner really. Have put it off but am now womaning up. Now someone comes to our house apparently. Which will be nice. Hope Morecambe thinks so. Sure he will be fine. Probably.

Have read..

Really tried to like this. Loved Suspicions of Mr Whicher. But it is so annoying. Irritating swooning woman flopping about, mooning over idiot married doctor who should know better. Whole thing goes to divorce court. Act your age not your shoe size - in the words of Prince. No one comes out of it well. Ask me if I care.

Have re-read a Barbara Pym to feel better about books. Always works.

Watched

Endeavour. This is so far up my street, it has practically turned the corner and caught a bus. Just love it. I never get the clues. Hardly matters, I love Morse, Thursday, Oxford against the sky, the music and perhaps most of all, the fact that, unlike 90% of the dramas on the telly,  we don't have to watch someone locked in a cupboard having their teeth pulled out. 

One Thing

Two things. One made me think of the other. Billy Crystal in City Slickers asking about the meaning of life. (Bit of language alert)

Made me think of this -works for me.

"One Thing Remains"

Higher than the mountains that I face
Stronger than the power of the grave
Constant through the trial and the change
One thing… Remains 


Your love never fails, never gives up
Never runs out on me 

On and on and on and on it goes
It overwhelms and satisfies my soul
And I never, ever, have to be afraid
One thing remains

In death, In life, I’m confident and
covered by the power of Your great love
My debt is paid, there’s nothing that can
separate my heart from Your great love...

Jesus Culture 2010

Not Much Really

We are all buzzing around a bit today and I will struggle to get coherent thoughts (which I HAVE actually been thinking actually) to you, so would it be ok if I just threw a few random facts about life etc. at you? Please 'scuse if a bit all over the place. I have one eye on the football. Love football even if, in the case of the FA Cup semi final, I am in the position of wanting both teams to lose. This, like so many things in my life, is bound to end in disappointment for me.

Spent most of yesterday schlepping round town trying to find work boots for FOW1 in case he drops precious ancient artifacts on his toe while he is archaeologically engaged at uni.

We are all out tonight at Bella Italia for tea because FOW1 is due back at uni before FOW2 has her birthday We have therefore declared a sort of rolling celebration starting today like Marie Antoinette would have had. Both FOWs are unhappy with me because I will be using money off vouchers but I feel the dosh is better off in my pocket than theirs, as they say up north.

Church this morning could be filed in the controversial draw. Pastor did Sodom and Gomorrah. He used the "Homosexual" word more than once. However, the whole thing was filled with grace and love. Only one person walked out but she was quite old and may have needed a wee or had a bus to catch so we possibly shouldn't read too much into that.

As we are out tonight have set the video (am I the only person who still talks about "Taping Programmes"?) for Endeavour. I didn't see the pilot but think it may be decent Sunday evening stuff and Roger Allam is in it and he is acey-pacey. Whatever it is like, it has to be an improvement on flippin' Broadchurch. How long is it going to take to find out who did this? Is the idea to drag it out long enough for them all to die of old age and decay?

I have retreated away from the telly over the weekend as I am having to speed-read a library book because I have tried to extend my loan, only to find that someone has reserved it and it needs to be back sharpish - by Tuesday. I had never heard of Roger Mortimer. It is really interesting - if a bit gruesome. Quite difficult to speed read a history book. People keep running each other though and I keep losing track.

Can I just throw my two penneth in about Margaret Thatcher?
I have to put my cards on the table and tell you that my husband lost his job at British Aerospace because of Thatcherite policies so I am no friend of much of what she stood for. I would defend the right of anyone to not eulogise her and her public life. However, I would like to hope that we would show a bit of class and dip our heads and think of her family. Turning on a sixpence - as I do - In a time of austerity, doesn't it seem to be an awful lot of money to spend? Couldn't it have been a little more restrained and the 10 million pounds be put to better use? On a slightly different note - Love Divine, All Loves Excelling which is on the Order of Service is a beautiful hymn. 

Anyway, this is just a little treat for you to set you up for Monday morning. I know I complained about paps last week but look! It's Sherlock and he's only in a flamin' deerstalker! Let joy be unconfined....

Approved Food Order

I have followed lots of other bloggers' example and have just received my first Approved Food Order. Generally, it is all very impressive. I have learnt

• If you buy six packets of Rockys-teenagers will need to be told forcefully that they are meant to last more than a week.
• The stuff that comes is really high quality and saves you
  a packet.
• I do need to be more careful about product sizes. The above teeny tiny product was a bit of a disappointment!

Dipping my toe back in the water

I have had a week off work and a deliberate week off blogging. Just didn't feel like it. Tried to make it a more spiritual reason than that but just didn't feel like it. Sorry - don't mean to be rude. We have all taken Lucy's loss quite hard. Thank you for all your kind thoughts and prayers. Thank you that no-one said "It's just a dog". We were all doing quite a lot better until we got a lovely card from the vet, expressing their sorrow and supporting our decision. Bit sobby again but getting there.
Also quite rocked back by a blog I read this week. A Christian had written that she felt that prayer was a conversation and a continuing closeness with God and that answers to prayer were more often about how your life circumstances turned out and the sort of person you are. Well I wondered and worried about this for a while and I am sorry - that just won't do for me. If my God doesn't do miracles - above and beyond anything that I can imagine then all bets are off for me. I might as well go and get a decent life coach and see how much I can achieve in my life. I'm not saying that God is my personal slot machine and that I get everything I ask for (are you kidding?) but the POSSIBILITY of the miraculous is essential don't you think? If God be God and all that. I'm sticking with petitionary prayer with loads of thanksgiving and seeing what God does. Otherwise some of my life circumstances have been so poo, if I couldn't expect God to intervene in some way, at some time, I would do myself a mischief! (RAMBLING! Sorry)

Other than that just leaving you with a few random things.

Went for day out in Newton Abbott. You know, I don't need the lights of Vegas and wilder-beast roaming across the plains but, I have to be brutally honest, it was a long way to drive for a big Asda, twenty charity shops and two buskers murdering Beatles' songs. Maybe I caught it on a bad day.

Had a lunch in Buffet City. All you an eat Chinese for the uninitiated. Always makes me want to come out and go on five day bread and water fast. Why do we do that to ourselves? And FOW1 was making a cheese sandwich about an hour later.

Foyle's War is back - if only for three weeks. HURRAH! Also, wish that he papers would stop hanging round the filming of Sherlock and taking random photos. If they give any clues away - I shall be very annoyed.

FOW2 to me during last week's Easter Morning service

"Mum, don't wave and shout 'Hello' to the chicken puppet. It isn't for you."

Outrageous! I prefer it when she sits with the youth. Just one more random thing. This is why Cosby is a genius  Think on young people.

Lucy

The Internet is awash this morning with Good Friday thoughts and meditations. That is how it should be. I am happy to point you to a couple. A reminder of a beautiful hymn from Tracing Rainbows and a wonderful meditation here

I am afraid that I am out of step with right thinking Christianity myself this Easter because we lost our dog this week.  Our lovely Lucy had a stroke and we took the horrible decision to have her put down. HOH had to bear the heaviest burden as he had to take her. She was only eight. We had not seen it coming but there was no choice. So as he stroked her and thanked her for the lovely time we had together and said goodbye as the anesthetic sent her to sleep, HOH said that he was overcome with love for this little, submissive, eager to please little dog and our hearts are breaking at the moment. 

This weekend calls to mind the most pivotal events in the history of humanity but, I am sorry. I am just not there. We have an empty box in the kitchen and some ashes to scatter on the beach, where she loved to potter and roll in seaweed when she thought that we weren't looking. 

I hate it at the moment. I hate that it is so much easier to walk one dog than two. I hate the money we will save on food. I hate not pulling them apart when they disagreed over the ownership of a ball. I hate not hearing her click-click of her paws on the polished wooden floors. I hate that another connection with my brother, whose dog she was, has gone. We know that we gave her a good life and she was very happy with us and eventually, I am sure that this will be a comfort.

Everyone I know who has owned a dog tells me that it is the same for all dog owners. That, as we leave the breeder's house with our puppy, we are setting ourselves up for heartbreak further down the line. Yet we all do it, because of what they give to us, with their unconditional love and companionship, as well as all the laughter. And I know that we will laugh when we remember her. Eventually. Just not yet. 

Good bye Lucy Lou. Our family is richer for knowing you and poorer now you aren't here. Thank you - for everything.

Men as trees

I love Johnny Cash. Well, when I say I love Johnny Cash, I can't say that I often think Ooh - I'll just put a bit of Johnny Cash on the old compact disc player. In fact, I don't think that I have ever thought that. I just really like who Johnny Cash was. FOW2 genuinely loves his music and has done for years. It can be a little disconcerting to hear your little girl cheerfully singing that she 

"Shot a man in Reno - just to watch him die."

But there are worse role models, I should think. Johnny Cash always seemed to me to be someone who was completely aware of all his faults and failings and was yet was still grateful to God for every last minute that he lived. Many years ago, when I was in our church youth group, we were all taken to a church hall  to watch Cash's film, The Gospel Road. If I am entirely honest, the film was a bit of a blur. Mixing with other youth groups was a rare opportunity to do a bit of "opposite sex sizing up" so I probably wasn't giving it my full attention.
As I remember, there were a lot of shots of Johnny Cash, in black, on beaches and on the top of cliffs looking mean and windswept but there are two images from the film that have stayed with me to this day.
The first was of Jesus laughing with some children as they played on the beach. This was a revelatory moment for me. Jesus having a sense of humour was not a facet of his character that I had been brought up with. As one of our elders once famously said "It says in the Bible that Jesus Wept. Not that he laughed. " Think on. Years later, when someone remarked, "So do you think that children, flocked to him because they loved his knowledge of Jewish Law?" it was a welcome revelation that people who lived at the time of Jesus would have heard him laugh. Jesus shows his back teeth. Love it.
The other bit I remember was  song called "I see Men as Trees walking" about Jesus'  gradual healing of a blind man. 
It's here - have a look.

I have often wondered about this.Why didn't Jesus just heal him the first time? Don't look at me -  I have no idea. Who do you think I am? However, I did find this, in Exodus, this week and wondered if it was a pointer. God is exhorting (good word - exhorting no?) the Children of Israel to press on and not be afraid of their enemies.

 I won’t get rid of them all at once lest the land grow up in weeds and the wild animals take over. Little by little I’ll get them out of there while you have a chance to get your crops going and make the land your own. I will make your borders stretch from the Red Sea to the Mediterranean Sea and from the Wilderness to the Euphrates River

There was to be no lottery moment, no having it all at once. It wouldn't have worked. They had to get going - push forward, little by little, doing the right thing, making plans and seeing them come to pass. God would be working for them, giving them a chance to learn and to grow and giving them space as they pushed forward.

We are on a journey, a mission (like Star Trek) we are working together with a God who works miracles but our life is our story and I think that God wants it to be so. Blessings are delayed, sometimes for a very long time, life rarely seems to fall into our laps, (well mine doesn't anyway) and we need to learn to faithfully wait and push on. Dream and get going. God is still at work. 

Oh Happy Day

vickybeeching.com

So the first Christian Music Chart has apparently come and gone. Would someone care to give me a full explanation as to why this isn't there? Surely some mistake?

Happy. Happy Happy. (Bet you can't get it out of your head)

Red Nose Ranting

Bit of a rant this week. (What, again, I hear you cry?) Don't say you weren't warned. I am just letting you know, in case you care, that I think I am done with the whole Red Nose thing. Not because it isn't a good cause - it quite obviously is.  It is because of a surfeit of smugness. I'm not sure how much of it you watched. Mostly it seemed to consist of presenters of various sexes snogging each other while we were supposed to be weak at the knees with hysterical laughter. This was all interspersed with heartbreaking stories of children in Africa, in various states of distress, while celebrities looked on in horror. I can go with most of Comic Relief, it is a good thing. However, the point when I slammed my money through and turned off  was Rowan Atkinson's Archbishop of Canterbury sketch. What a donk. Lazy, flabby and a bit nasty to be honest. 
Why does he always have to be played as an idiot? I have read a piece in the Sunday Times about Justin Welby today. (Can't link you through to it - you would have to pay) He is a fiercely  intelligent, thoughtful, forward looking man. He has overcome huge personal tragedy, with the death of his infant daughter and seems totally committed to social justice. I get really bored with always having to be a good sport when Christianity once again is picked to play the idiot cousin.
How offensive do you think the remark in the sketch about "prayer not working" was - not just to us but to those in Africa for whom prayer is all they have sometimes? Christians may have made a lot of mistakes in Africa but there are also countless Christians who have worked and are still working tirelessly for causes and people that they believe in. These people will continue working in difficult conditions, long after the Red Nose presenters have high tailed it back to Primrose Hill. Sometimes you would think that Richard Curtis had invented Africa. You can call me a miserable crow if you like. I will try not to lose sleep about it. 
Christian humility is one thing but this is ridiculous. 

Winter Returns

Is it cold where you are? It's flamin' cold here and we don't really do cold in Plymouth. I am bored of winter now. A new Pope was chosen today. I don't pretend to know much about the Catholic faith. As far as I am concerned God's representative on this earth now is the Holy Spirit so my mop doesn't really flop in this direction. However, hopefully all will go well for him. The news makes The Vatican sound a bit like Yes Minister, where the Vatican machine is like a kind of all powerful civil service. He will have to knock back a lot of be-robed Sir Humphrey-like people so he has his work cut out. Anyway, he is Argentinian. Does this mean that we have to give the Falklands to the Vatican City? Will they be ok with the penguins?

Am just calling in quickly to show you FOW1's attempt at Lasagne. This has told me

1. Where my two-person lasagne dish is. I apologise to all those I have accused of lasagna dish thievery.
2. When he comes home, we need to have a whip round for a grater. 

Also, just to let those who are interested know that I heard on Radio 5 Live today that the read-throughs have started for Series 3 of Sherlock. It's quite a while to wait but not as long as people in Devon have waited for an Ikea! But - it's coming - possibly in 2015 to Exeter. Oh the tea lights and the cushion covers we will buy! 

Mothers Day

My Mothering Sunday 

Got up to Orchid and Walnut Whips on the kitchen table. Well chosen by Head of House after panicked phone call from Fruit of Womb 1.

Church. Genesis. Abram and Sarai - Abram settling for second best God says No - the original promise still holds. Don't give up.

Stupid sniggering with Church Secretary who has almost had stand up row with Pastor after she said that Head of House's name was Michael. She realised after quite long protracted discussion with Pastor that I had actually been saying "My Col" #northern

Return home to Sanctuary stuff and chocolate on kitchen table. Thanks to FOW 2. 

Had Walnut Whip and pork pie and onion chutney for lunch. (Not all on same plate)

Took snivelling apologetic phone call from FOW 1. Tries to pretend that he forgot because of heavy archaeological workload rather than playing in Battle of the Bands. Insist that he phones Nana before she goes out for lunch with her sister. 

Watch FA Cup football. Man U let comfortable two goal lead slip. Wish I had gone with original instinct to watch High Society.

FOW 1 phones. Has spoken to Nana. She is back from sister's and is over cheerful. Tells FOW1 she has had a couple of brandies. Expect she will sleep tonight. 

FOW2 comes back from coffee with friends. We watch Crufts together. Are reduced to hysterical sobs over story of little boy with muscle wasting disease and his dog with three legs. 

Watch Shetland. Have no idea what anyone is saying. It looks very cold.

So there you are. It's nothing like the telly Mother's Day. I expect most people's are a bit like this. It's family stuff. Real family stuff and I am grateful for every second of it.

Oscar drops the ball - mostly

Just thought I would give you my vair vair wise and considered opinions on the Oscars. As a bit of a film buff, I have long since given up taking much notice of the Oscars. (I still have been unable to find anyone who can explain to me why Nora Ephron didn't win the Oscar for best screenplay for "When Harry Met Sally" Well - can you? I thought not.)
So, to sum up.

Best Actor------Daniel Day Lewis (A Good Thing)
Best Actress----Jennifer Lawrence (Dunno. Didn't see it. However am glad she won because of this ace thing. Ah Jack Nicholson. What are you like? Still.)

Best Supporting Actress---Anne Hathaway (Best award for heavy duty ACTING for three minutes while someone shaves your head and pulls your teeth out. He only stole a loaf of bread don't forget)
Best Supporting Actor---Christophe Waltz (have already shared my feelings about Quentin Tarantino films. Enough said I think)
Best Film---Argo (Indeed. Some controversy here about Affleck playing fast and loose with the facts but probably right decision.)
Best Director---Ang Lee (Does anyone know what Steven Spielberg has done to upset the academy? Someone, somewhere seems to have it in for him.)

On a slightly different subject, I know I am old and I know the young people enjoy edgy comedy but Seth McFarlane - you are a donk.  The Oscar host served up casual sexism, "jokes" about sleeping with children, "jokes" about Jews. Neither the time nor the place. 

While I am on a media riff. I did like Ripper Street. I know it is a bit formulaic and, like most people, I could do without any more women getting beaten to death for our entertainment but, on the whole, I think it was really well written. Phrases like "I know not this public house of which you speak your honour" were uttered with straight faces and I loved it. And, despite, Matthew Macfadyen looking like he was about to stick both his thumbs into his watch pockets and launch into "Consider Yourself One of Us", I thought the whole thing was terrific. 

Right, off to watch Danny Leigh's documentary on boxing in the movies. Supposed to be really good. "I coulda been a contender. I could have been somebody. Instead of a bum." Outstanding.

Matriarchy Rules

I have had a bit of a nightmare this weekend because I had to go into work unexpectedly which is 
a) Against  my religion to go to work on Saturday
b) Makes me late for everything else.

So I will not bother you for long but just wanted to share this that I found in Nehemiah this week. In the middle of a superficially quite boring passage on the rebuilding of the wall in Nehemiah 3 there are several descriptions of members of families, mayors, sons, brothers etc. etc doing sterling work as they built.

Then suddenly this

^11-12 Malkijah son of Harim and Hasshub son of Pahath-Moab rebuilt another section that included the Tower of Furnaces. Working next to him was Shallum son of Hallohesh, mayor of the other half-district of Jerusalem, along with his daughters.

Along with who? Sallum's lovely, strong, big boned daughters that is who. 
This says to me a couple of things. Firstly, men and women can work together side by side to build community for God. 
Secondly, as women we have to step up and be counted when it is time for building. 
Being a wussy girl doesn't mean that we don't have a part to play and if our skills lie more in bricklaying than pie making, (even though pie making is an essential and important skill) then we need to be using what we have been given.We need to be who we are and take our place with our unique skills to do what needs to be done. Even if that doesn't always fit what might be termed as a traditional women's role.
Have courage, get on with whatever it is you are supposed to be doing and have a great week.

Brit Bats

Brits.co.uk

So, the Brits. I sat and watched it with my daughter last night. As expected, I had no idea who half the people on it were but, bearing that in mind, here are my observations.

Taylor Swift. Comes on in long white dress which she whips off to reveal much shorter dress while shaking down her long hair. Not exactly original love. Marti Caine was doing that centuries ago on the Val Doonican Christmas Special. Nothing new under the sun.

One Direction. I seriously don't get it. I have tried. I was young once. At least the Bay City Rollers were good looking. (Except the drummer, oh and the one with the spots - sorry)

Emile Sandee. You seem very nice. I liked the way you had your coat on for the last song. Always wise to take your ticket to the cloakroom before the rush starts. (PS HOH says yours was absolutely the best album of the year so that's all lovely)

Daughter asked who Bryan Ferry was. Thought he was Terry Wogan and that he had lost some weight. How the mighty are fallen.

Have had a non lusty type crush on Dave Grohl since I saw him stop a performance because a young boy was getting crushed in the crowd. Always good to see him out and about. Unfortunately, have never been able to stand any of his music for for than 15 seconds.

Mumford and Son. Ah the Mumfords. Love them. Their music is like a drunk man singing quietly to himself in a bar then suddenly 50 men with banjos all run in and start playing all at once. It's a very good thing. Then there are their totally non-Christian beautiful lyrics. Reproduced for you here. Enjoy.

And I came home
Like a stone
And I fell heavy into your arms
These days of darkness
Which we've known
Will blow away with this new sun

And I'll kneel down
Wait for now
And I'll kneel down
Know my ground

And I will wait, I will wait for you
And I will wait, I will wait for you

So break my step
And relent
You forgave and I won't forget
Know what we've seen
And him with less
Now in some way
Shake the excess

But I will wait, I will wait for you
And I will wait, I will wait for you
And I will wait, I will wait for you
And I will wait, I will wait for you

Lyrics by Mumford and Sons

So what didn't he do?

I thought I might write about about something our pastor preached on a couple of weeks ago, mainly because it has been pinging around in my consciousness on and off since then. 
The thoughts come from Genesis 12. Abram and Sarai (as they still are at this point) are at an early stage of their life with God journey. Seventy-five year old Abram has just heard from God that he will be made into a great nation and he has packed up all he has, wife, sheep, tents, Lot etc etc (events later on in this chapter sometimes seem to indicate that this inventory is not listed in order of importance to Abram but that may just be me.) 
Then, it seems out of nowhere, the land is hit by a famine. There is nothing to eat. This is not just a physical disaster. Look where these people are. They are in the promised land. Abram is being led directly by God. They are right in the centre of God's will and they are hit by famine. 
I think sometimes, when things go wrong for us or we see things go wrong for other people, we have a couple of reactions. One is to woe is me (that is my particular talent which I have developed over years of whinging)  The next thing we do is to ask what we have done wrong, or what people we see who come into bad circumstances have done wrong. In fact, it seems that we can be exactly where God wants us to be and things can fall around our ears. It is not always a judgement on our behaviour. 
The most serious problem here emerges as early as the next sentence.

Then a famine came to the land. Abram went down to Egypt to live. 

Knee jerk reaction. Arrrrggh. Everyone out of here! Egypt! (Not exactly happy valley for Abram you would have thought) That's the place to go! 
Then he ends up prostituting his wife to Pharaoh  bringing down a curse on the Egyptian royal household and getting out by the skin of his teeth. You know how it is.
(Just an aside It's God who ends up rescuing Sarai from Pharaoh's household. One of many times when God rescues women from men. Who says God leads the Patriarchy?)
So what didn't Abram do? He didn't pray.He didn't ask. Disaster struck and he reacted. Don't say you have never done this. For once, I know it's not just me. Sometimes, we are supposed, I think to put our foot on the ball, stop and ask. Pray. Commit. Wait. Then possibly act. That was what was missing from this sentence.

This week.

Digital Spy

HOH and FOW2 went on a Dad Date to watch the zombie comedy"Warm Bodies". They loved it but both said that I wouldn't have liked it. I have a low tolerance level for watching zombies eating people's brains with a spoon. I'm funny like that. 

Wikipedia

Watched The Baftas. Approved of nearly everything  Except anything Tarantino wins. How can I judge when I haven't seen it? BECAUSE I CAN. Argo won which is good because it was very good and also because it gets the Cloonster up on stage as he produced it. Win-Win as the young people say.

Film Night

Guardian.co,uk

Re watching Mama Mia for umpteenth time with FOW2. So rubbish but so brilliant.  FOW2 has informed me that she is insisting that she has a donkey at her wedding. I have said that that would be OK so long as I get to stop off on the way to the church and belt out "The Winner Takes It All". Not sure how well that would go down in the middle of Plymouth but if it's good enough for Meryl, it's good enough for me.

Top moments also include

Julie Walters in full on Mrs Overall mode (and a bit of my Aunty Audrey)  doing "Take a Chance On Me."

Colin Firth playing the world's most unconvincing gay man (but at least he is a bit more cheerful than he was in "A Single Man.")

Pierce Brosnan cheerfully murdering any song he comes near. But he does it with so much gusto it's irrelevant to be frank.

"Slipping Through My Fingers" making me cry.

Meryl looking suspiciously lairy as she bellows "Do You Want Another One?" at the screen after the last song.

I feel we may have peaked televisually this evening.

Backwards Lent

As a non Catholic type of person, I don't really do Lent. I did give up Twitter last year and the only effect that had was making HOH laugh at me - no one on Twitter noticed. However, I am undaunted and I have decided that rather than giving something up I will take something up for 40 days. This is very non conformist and contrary of me and I am to be congratulated. SO I intend to do my prayer/Bible/thinking journal every day for 40 days instead of when inspiration strikes or when I have spare minutes. This should result in heavy duty thinking and very, very deep insights into spirituality. STOP LAUGHING HOH!
Family news - FOW1 has been elected secretary of his Band Society at York University (Think Biffy Clyro rather than Brighouse and Rastrick) When do these people fit work in?

So what did we think would happen?

Daily Telegraph

I am going to get a bit Tony Benn and a bit political in this blog, so if you don't fancy it, feel free to leave. I have been reading about the Stafford hospital scandal this week. You have probably been as shocked as anyone else by the horrific stories about desperately thirsty people drinking from vases and people lying for days on sheets stained with their own poop. Awful, just awful. My own experience of care within the NHS has, like most people's I suspect, been very different. When I have been in hospital, I have been cared for well by lovely people and so this is an alien land to me.
I have to declare an interest here and tell you that Head of House is a Health Care Assistant working in a local hospital. He would tell you that, as in any profession, there are excellent people and also bad apples. No one is saying that ever nurse or carer is a saint but, I am certain that the huge majority of people that work in these professions are (very) hardworking, patient, souls who come home from work and sink into chairs, exhausted. (Puts hand up in air to confirm that you can indeed, as they say, get a witness) Before I continue my rant, I should confirm that the opinions that follow are my own and not HOH's. He is the kind of nice person that old ladies stop in the street and then lecture me on what a good nurse he is. (Blah Blah. He may be a good nurse, but he is rubbish patient. We are currently dealing with a bout of man flu and not,as he suspects, the first new case of Black Death in England since the 1660s) I digress.
People are bemoaning the lack of a caring culture in the nursing profession. Nurses only want to play on computers now and not hold hands and hold sick bowls. And carers are either scoundrels or people who don't give a monkey's about the people they are supposed to be looking after. Well, that may or may not be true. If there is any truth in it, then surely we had it coming. We have, as a country, debased caring as a profession. We pay the absolute minimum we can get away with to carers (and if we can get their kids to do it for nothing, then that's even better) If you do the jobs that no one else wants to do, if you clean up sick, wipe bottoms, hold an old lady's hand while she tells you about the war, put an old man back into bed for the umpteenth time that night because he has dementia and thinks the Russians are coming up the stairs, these are, to my mind, skilled jobs that take special kinds of people to do them. Do we treat these people like they are skilled? What do you think? Do we train them properly and make sure that ratios in hospitals and care homes and on home visits are set so that people are looked after properly? Well, do you think 15 minutes is long enough for a care visit to someone in their own home? 15 minutes to get them out of bed, wash them and set them ready for the day. Some days, I can't even unfasten my coat in 15 minutes. It's all about cutting costs and saving money. Meeting targets so that you see enough people in a day and if carers are run ragged, well there are plenty more where they came from. And if we undervalue these people long enough, both by the demands we place on them and the wages we pay them, then should we be surprised if some of them lose their way and behave badly? It may not be an excuse but it may be an explanation.
So now we have a situation where care givers are beginning to be demonised. Not just those who have behaved badly but the whole profession. Some people come into wards looking for mistakes or with a "you are just the person who cleans up the sick" attitude. And, in my more paranoid moments, I can't help but wonder if there is some method in this madness. Am I wrong to wonder if privatising choice bits of a demoralised, badly functioning National Health Service nice and cheaply is easier to sell to the British public than it would if all were going well? Maybe, I watch too many movies.

Change

Hello

I have been meaning to change the appearance of the blog for a while now and have only just got round to it what with one thing and another. I changed it for a couple of reasons. One is that I really wanted the writing to be on white background (have had a couple of requests) Also I have lost the sidebar with the Reading/Watched posts. This is mainly because I often want to say more than the couple of lines I have there lets me so, I will pull this feature into the main body of the blog. Anyway, we will see how it goes.
It has all been a bit weird here because HOH is on nights and that seems to mean that everyone is a bit out of sync. It is really odd to wave him off at 8.30 pm when everyone is just settling down for the evening. Still nearly done now. I always think that when HOH is on nights, I will get loads done because it's just me (FOW 2 retires to bedroom to watch obscure films, then Facebook message everybody in the world seemingly and pretend to do homework.) but tonight  have been faffing with this blog half the night.
Had a day's leave today and was a bit disappointed that new Archbishop of Canterbury's thingy service  - where he gets sworn in I think - was not on TV live. You would think that it would be wouldn't you. I'm not C of E myself as you know but he seems a decent sort of bloke and needs a lot of praying for. I mean you wouldn't be him for all the tea in China would you? He hardly made the news tonight as well because of some politician with the moral fibre of a mollusk who seems to have bullied his wife into lying for him about his driving habits. So what was it that made him think that the rules didn't apply to him? Does my head in.
Still, I did a bit more writing which is scientifically a good thing.
Was very taken by something I came across in a re-read of M Scott Peck's The Road Less Traveled  This is one of the few self help books I have read that doesn't leaving me wanting to trap my head in a door. Anyway, he was talking about time management. He said that people with decent levels of self esteem are better at using their time profitably because they feel that they are valuable, therefore their time is valuable and they use it accordingly. Using that yardstick, Christians should be acey-pacey time managers. We believe in a God who proved how valuable he thought we were. These are "interesting" times. Do we act as if our time is a valuable gift? It's just meant to make you think that's all - not feel guilty. Trust me, people in glass houses etc.

We went to see Lincoln this week.I know there is a lot of talk about Daniel Day Lewis' performance and quite right too. (Although, as Sasha Baron Cohen said at the Golden Globes "Big Deal. Anyone can grow a beard.") However, I thought it was one of the best films I had seen in ages. Sort of like West Wing in frock coats. What a man. What a mission. Ex-flippin-trordinary.
Do not think that I will be bothering with Denzel Washington in Flight. I am a nervous flyer at the best of times. If, I were on a plane that Denzel was trying to save by TURNING IT UPSIDE DOWN I would be shouting "Don't bother for me Denzel because I will have died  long before you turned the plane over. You will find me hanging from my seat-belt - dead and  covered in poo. (Sorry - unacceptable) Am trying to be more ladylike of speech really I am. I am failing miserably. On Sunday, found myself saying to Pastor after the meeting the he was quote "Really nailing it at the moment." It was meant to be a compliment about his preaching. (We are doing Genesis. It is like it has got my name on it.) HOH stepped in and explained this to slightly scared looking minister and he seemed to be ok. Still am working on lady-likeness. Feel it's probably best.

Ratty

Despite all evidence to the contrary  I am not a fool. Not a complete fool anyway. There are things in life that are so obvious that I don't need to be told about them. I have lived a long time. Just over half a century now -  think of that. Not all the time in that half century was spent in the gathering of wisdom (unless you count learning to walk and also to poo in a socially acceptable place). However for a goodly proportion of my half century I have been, as they say, living and learning.
So why do I know NOTHING? Why do the same things come and bite my bum on a regular basis and I either, do nothing to change them or learn some degree of serenity about the things I cannot change. Life is a balance, I know this but I spend an awful lot of time being the plonker bouncing up and down in the net under the tightrope because I have messed up the balance again.

• I feel at my best when I have been productive and yet I am developing procrastination as an Olympic sport.
• Developing a high level of expertise at Solitaire does not count as productivity.
• I know that rest is a necessary part of life and yet I struggle to do it without guilt.
• Most people probably don't hate me yet I will still apologise for my existence, given half a chance.
• People don't behave well all the time and sometimes I really do just have to tackle it and stop it.
• Not everything is my fault.
• Like most people, I have been through quite a lot in my life. When suffering things in the past, I swore that I would never as our American friends say "sweat the small stuff" again. 
• I sweat the small stuff about twenty times an hour.
• Life makes me fearful sometimes.

Ahem. You may have noticed that I have not had the best of weeks.
So I find myself on a Sunday, looking at another week and wondering how to make a difference. And something keeps coming back into my head that has been floating in and out of my thoughts all week. It's a phrase. Out of context as usual but that, as you are well aware by now, is how I er.. roll.

"This same Jesus."

That's all. Part of a sentence that the angel used to tell the disciples that Jesus would be coming back. It's in Acts 1 if you want to find it. (Like I said - ratty today)

This same Jesus who cured sicknesses and raised people from the dead is in the heavenlies for me. There is no such thing as hopeless.
This same Jesus who walked with wisdom and kindness will expect me to do the same and will also give me what I need to do it.
This same Jesus is not diluted by the passage of time and I need to live so that I ask, receive, learn, rest, grow, give and generally exist under the same Jesus influence as the disciples did.

I think know that my task (should I choose to accept it) is to spend the days plugging in (that is such an awful phrase but you know what I mean) to This same Jesus. Getting hold of the man in the Bible: the things he said, the things he did, the love he lived and making it more and more a part of who I am. That way more peace and less rattiness lies.

Er.. Should have that sorted by about Tuesday of next week then.

Apologies

Quite annoyed this week. I rooted around the Internet and found the interview that Lance Armstrong did with Oprah. I didn't stay up until 2am or anything - are you mad? It was everywhere though and therefore, quite easy to have a look at. First of all I have to say that I think Oprah did a sterling job. If Armstrong thought he was going to come into this and have Oprah stroke his thigh and talk about his "feelings" he seemed to have miscalculated. She demanded "yes-no" answers to her first set of questions most of which followed on from "Did you dope?" including "Did you dope for all of your Tour victories?" The answer was yes. I have to tell you that I have some sympathy for Armstrong. Obsessed by winning, he seemed to mentally move into a mythical world, where cheating was the norm and once you start you are in it for good. Of course, this is easy for me to say as I am not a cyclist trying to earn a living. (I say again - are you mad? Center Parcs nearly finished me.) Riding clean behind Armstrong and his team who were riding with the blood not only coursing round their veins but also coursing out of their bodies to have extra oxygen put in, must have been the definition of the word frustration.
I know it must seem a bit of a stretch to say there but for the Grace of God go any of us. What are the chances of someone like me leading a corrupt cycling team which ran doping stations in hotels all over the world? Slim I know, but the principle is the same. Life gives us a million chances a day to make the wrong decisions and if the people around us don't challenge us and we seem to be getting away with it, sometimes we just carry on, eventually almost believing that it is ok.
I don't think it's that fact that he did it that wound me up. It's more the way he behaved when it seemed that the fat lady was tuning up and the end was in sight. People began to testify against him and he responded with the most dreadful bullying and intimidation. Really nasty stuff. He called his masseuse a whore in front of the world's press and got under the skin of another journalist by making disparaging remarks about his relationship with his dead son. Finally, he informed Oprah that he hadn't been a bully before he had cancer, and in one master stroke offended all those who have cancer or care for those with cancer who have managed live with this awful disease thus far without turning into complete rat bags.
He behaved like a cornered animal, slashing out at anything that he felt threatened him and in a way I suppose that is understandable. However, I think that eventually, whatever we have done, the easiest thing to do, is to give in and say sorry. There is a grace and a relief in giving in and admitting that we were wrong, that we made a mistake. People who admit that they were wrong seem to have a dignity about them. Maybe it's because they are wiser than us and have been brave enough to look at themselves harder than we can. People say that Lance Armstrong is looking for redemption - a chance to start again. The trouble is, that it is impossible to start again until we finish our unfinished business. Redemption can only happen after repentance  - waking up and saying sorry and only then letting it go. It is, as they say, that old time religion.

"If we claim that we're free of sin, we're only fooling ourselves A claim that is errant nonsense. On the other hand, if we admit our sins - make a clean breast of them - he won't let us down, he'll be true to himself. 
1 John 1:9

The Year of..

Brugel - Tower of Babel

...not doing it all. I am all behind, as they say in the best pantos. Most people have made their resolutions by now. Many are still struggling manfully with them. However, lots of people I know have given up already, having been overcome by the multiple temptations of toasted teacakes, roaring fires and spending money at car boots as opposed to eating lettuce, going running and sticking to a budget. I, however, have not got to being New Yearish yet, even though it is nearly the end of January (not near enough to payday though if you ask me) I did get round to thinking about it though. I am a very, very deep thinker and anyone who knows me will vouch for this. As a result, I have decided that I am going to do a lot less this year. HOH may well be raising an eyebrow now and silently hoping that this does not apply to housework as we very much operate on a "sharing" basis in that area. Some would say that it is not always shared equally but I am a great believer in playing to your strengths and, disappointingly, cleaning Venetian blinds is not one of mine.
I thought of calling it the year of petitionery prayer but I know that some people, me included, sometimes have problems with the way this seems to treat God like a slot machine. So I thought hard about what I meant by that and I mean that I would like this to be the year when I try to lean less on myself and more on God.

I just don't ask enough.

This does not mean that this is the year that I get that Ferrari. (Don't really want one to be honest, never understood the attraction of travelling at great speeds with my bottom three inches from the road.)  I am  talking about handing over to God. About realising a lot quicker that I am out of my depth. It is about not trying to do everything myself - wading in and thrashing about, trying to sort stuff. It is about handing stuff over to God, in faith that he can sort things and then choosing not to worry.

Bill Hybels, the author tells of his life revolutionised by changing the way he prayed. He made sure that he found time to pray often enough to give everything to God. He gave things over with faith. He made a notice saying "God is Able" to remind him. The more he asked, the more he received - answers, wisdom, miracles, even.

I have to take responsibility for my life, we all do but this is the best way I know of doing that. I serve a God that knows me better than I know myself. This morning, in church, our pastor said that God's main problem with the Tower of Babel was that God wasn't in it. In the end it was just a tower - what for? I would like my life to be more than that. I have an opportunity, bought by grace, to invite God into every area of my life and see him do fab things. Or I can have a pop at it myself like I usually do and continue to miss out.

Have a great week.

Epiphany

Sooo, this was the week some Christians celebrate Epiphany. I am not very good at Christian celebrations. I was not brought up in the C of E tradition. In fact, these things were frowned upon in our circles as IDOLATRY! there was probably a reason for that but I am not sure I can help you with it. Anyway, as far as I can make out Epiphany is the end of Christmas and

"A Christian feast celebrating the manifestation of the divine nature of Jesus to the Gentiles as represented by the Magi."

(Looked that up from dictionary for you. That's ok  - you don't have to thank me.)

We didn't make much of the Magi/Wise Men/Astronomers in our church. We didn't sing "We Three Kings" much ("Too much like an autobiography - not enough about Jesus") I used to find this a bit of a disappointment. At school, it was always a chance for a singing solo as three people were always picked to be a king. The pinnacle of achievement was to do the Myrrh verse as that was the most dramatic. In my youth work years there was also a memorable occasion when the young people had been forced encouraged to get together a Christmas choir for the shopping mall. They amused themselves on this hymn by starting the chorus "OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOHHHHHHHH-----STAR OF WONDER..." Sort of in the manner of a drunken rugby party. Many people who were doing their shopping seemed to be genuinely frightened. There were some frankly disappointing  stories of some youth leaders melting into the crowds and pretending there was something pressing that had to be bought from the local ironmongers - never to return.

Anyway, leaving all that behind, when you look at the Wise Men, they were your actual heroes don't you think? They had no Jewish tradition of the Messiah, no church background, no Christian Royal Family to protect them. Yet, armed only with a pressing conviction that something that they had looked for for years was actually happening, they set off to follow a star into a strange land whose leader Herod was beginning to feel like a cornered animal and behave accordingly. Yet off they went. They were determined to worship the new king no matter what. Their journey was not easy. All they had to go on was this star that they were following and a creepy king who had said - "Once you find the child - let me know so I can worship as well." Yeh right. But there was no throwing in the towel, legging it back to the East and calling the whole thing off. They had watched, they had waited. The time to move was now and they were moving matey. They were a determined bunch and when they found Jesus, they were overcome with joy. Do you ever wonder what it was about this child that made them so certain that they were at the right place? I mean, at this point, he didn't exactly fit the Great Messiah profile did he? But they knew.

Someone told me once that in life, all you need to do was to push on doors very lightly and then God would swing them open. If the door does not open, then it is not God's will. I have not always found this to be the case. Not all my doors in life have burst open. Some have needed prayer, some have needed my discipline and hard work. Sometimes I have walked away from doors thinking that things aren't "meant". Yet sometimes, I have had to come back to a door and try again and again, and then have found my way through. Life is difficult, I have found. It was the same for the Magi, dogged, determined and faithful, they kept trying until they found what they were looking for.

I don't really do New Year's Resolutions. But if I did, I think it would be to continue to pursue the things in my life that I am supposed to be pursuing - to press on and be determined to get to where I need to be.

Happy New Year from all at Martha Towers

PS FOW1 if you are reading this at uni, your bedroom was a horrendous mess when you left to go back but your dad did find over £5 in loose change on the floor so we have a had a bottle of wine on you. You really should consider buying a wallet - or a peggy purse.