If you've never made a mistake..

..then you've never tried.

As so often happens Tom Jones was right when he said "Its not unusual" and indeed it isn't unusual for me to have messed up. My motives were good. Time together as a family. So when free tickets were available for an evening out together, my interest was stirred as you can imagine. The event was "Cinema in the City" - a showing of Blade Runner outdoors at the Lido - Plymouth's beautiful old outdoor pool. This evening would combine culture, supporting a local event and a flippin' good film. What could possibly go wrong? Well quite a lot as it happens. Firstly the event was on the same night as a bbq the offspring wanted to attend. However, we weighed it up and as we spend at least three nights a week ferrying them to events all over Devon and as family evenings together may be more difficult to come by after October, we decided to issue a three line whip and insist that they come with us. This does mean, however, that the pressure is on to produce a fairly entertaining event, as they are missing something they would prefer to be at.
Things started to go wrong when the weather changed mid-week. "Changeable" was the phrase used by the man in the 1980s suit who does the weather. "Apocalyptic" may have been more accurate. Still, we wouldn't let a little thing like the weather put us off. So, we wrapped up and off we went. 8.30 it said on the tickets and we turned up a little earlier than that because we are northern and that's what people who have manners do. Trouble was, when we collected our blankets (maybe another ominous sign) the lady on the desk informed us that it would be kicking off at 9.30 (ish) Sorry? An hour and a half? Sitting a yard away from a not exactly mill pond like ocean? And it won't start until 9.30? I enquired at reception about the reasons for this but was told that it was an experiment and they weren't sure what time it would go dark enough to project. My feeling was that this is quite an exact science and the aforementioned weather man in 80's suit may have been able to help them with that one.
Still, we sat there for a while. Waiting. Although I knew that fingers were getting numb and tempers were getting short. I also realised that if the film was the director's cut - we could be there until the early hours. And then it started to rain. Reluctantly, I admitted that I had made a mistake and we left, returning home to warmth, a glass of wine and a Top of the Pops compilation.You can't win them all.
But the truth is that if you don't try, you will never know. If you don't put yourself out there and have a go, you might as well just curl up and not bother. I have a natural tendency towards invisibility. I hate to draw attention to myself. Sometimes this blog is almost painful for me because my default mode is keeping my head below the parapet. But you do have to have a go. You have to take what you are given and push it a bit. It may or may not go horribly wrong - who can tell? Things just might need adjusting a little for them to work next time. In the case of the outdoor film - a reasonably accurate start time would have helped me. Just give or take an hour or two - I'm not unreasonable. Sometimes, you may need to keep trying and build a higher skill level to make things work. Sometimes you may have to give up and admit it was a mistake. Would that be so bad? Isn't it worse to watch life slip away and never know how good it could have been?
Wiser people than me have said that life does not fall into your lap. It has to be lived. Jesus sometimes gets a bit of bad publicity for saying
 For whoever has will be given more, and they will have an abundance. Whoever does not have, even what they have will be taken from them. Seems quite harsh. But if you read the whole story, it is an observation rather than a curse. Those who risk may fail but those who don't try never get the chance to succeed. Succeeding could be quite nice I think.

Sometimes failure brings its own joys too. Maybe not for Blake Bergstrom though but bless him for allowing it go out there.

We'll have none of that

I hate the hairdressers. Not in a personal way just the fact of it. I hate having to try and make conversation so I end up feeling like an autistic savant who is auditioning for Rain Man as I occasionally bark out phrases like "The weatherman said it could rain by three o clock!" or even more bizarrely "I don't think I've ever had my legs waxed!". So I prefer companionable silence as I watch her cutting my hair and then blow dry it into a shape that makes me look like I am wearing X Men's Magnito's helmet. And, I suspect like many other women, I find myself thinking, "Never mind - I can do it how I like it when I get home."
So then begins the game in my head which I have always played. Loosely titled - "We'll have none of that in heaven", it's not a very interesting game. It's just me making a list of the things I'll be happy to see the back of when I get to heaven. This morning it was hairdressers. I'm not sure how it will work but I never get the feeling that there will be much hairdressing in heaven. Although in the children's bibles I read a lot of the angels looked as if they had benefitted from a good body perm, I'm not really convinced that there will be much call for it. I would forgive you now if you were thinking about about that CS Lewis quote that says "if they cannot understand books written for grown-ups, they should not talk about them" (Mere Christianity). Quite right. As I was saying, it's thinking about the things that will no longer exist in heaven like war, famine, the cult of Katie Price and cankles. It can be quite comforting.
The is another, more beneficial, game about heaven that I play sometimes. My friend Mary worked it out and I developed it a bit. In the Bible, where Jesus says "In my house there are many mansions, I go to prepare a place for you." I also add mentally that my house will have a garden shed. And in that shed there will be a shelf. On that shelf I put in jars, all the things that have happened to me that I can't understand why. Some are minor. Many are major. The most recent being the death of my brother. I know that I will never fully understand about that while I live on earth. I can then choose whether to allow this to affect me for the rest of my life and particularly affect the way I feel about God. Or, knowing what I know to be true about God in other things, I can put it in a jar, on a shelf in my heavenly shed, and get on with my life as best I can. I then know that one day, if I want to, that I will be able to take the jar down and ask a few probing questions along the lines of "what was that all about?". In practice, I expect that I will be so caught up that I probably won't bother. But I feel it's ok to reserve the right to ask anyway.

Speaking of "What is that about?" I give you John Daker. I have no idea what is going on here but I demand that this man sings solo in our church this Sunday! Do not bother me again with your Tim Hughes and your Hillsong!

Recognising Your Joy Bits

I have to start this with an apology. I have had a week and a half. Nothing exciting - only work etc. Usually, I sit down with what I want to say on the blog and think about it and craft it into the finished product. (this may come a surprise to you but it is true.) So, if you will forgive me, this is a bit different this week. Like I said, a busy if mundane week and I was feeling a bit sorry for myself and then remembered the things I had written about gratitude. But gratitude is really difficult if you don't think you have anything to be grateful for and, I have to be honest, I'm not as good as I should be at summoning gratitude for the health of my nearest and dearest and the fact that I have a job and can eat etc. So I have looked at this average week and highlighted some of the bits of it that brought me joy, even though I may not have recognised it at the time.

In no particular order..

• Saturday afternoon. One sprog camping overnight in Cornwall. One in town looking at shoes. Just me, the Women's Wimbledon Final, and a Magnum I had hidden at the back of the freezer.

Friday. Head of House, me, bottle of red wine taken in the grounds of Hargreaves Towers in the early evening.

• Friday afternoon around three pm. Realisation dawns that its nearly done for the week and a couple of days off is moving into view.

• Saturday night. All week I have been telling myself to try that dress on because I haven't worn it for ages and I don't want to be on the last minute because I know we have to be at the 'do' at 8pm and I also know that I don't have a Plan B as far as clothes for the evening go. But I never did try that dress on and now its 7:45, I am late as usual and I step into the dress in a state of dread and....it zips up perfectly!

A line of whites.

• Sunday morning. The pastor says "and now the children and young people are going to leave us" and as I watch them file out, laughing, chatting and holding hands (mainly the girls that one), I am struck by two things. How glad I am that I am not a youth leader anymore and how brilliant it is to watch these amazing young people in here on a Sunday Morning.

• Most nights of the week. Two adults. Two teens. Around the tea table. Laughing, sharing the day's events and interesting if sometimes combative  (from Sprog One) conversation.

• One beach. Two Jacks. Half a dead seagull. Let joy be unconfined!

Does it really get any better than the Charlie Brown clan dancing to Sly and the Family Stone?

And I find to my surprise that I could go on. Try it for yourself. (well you can if you want to) you don't have to obviously. You may have had a better week than me!

The Comeback Kid

I have made it part of my mission this week to follow Head Gardener round on one of his tours of the grounds and impart my gardening wisdom and opinions, whether they are asked for or not. I have included this photo of one of our roses, not because it is the most beautiful, but because it is the most comforting. We only have three roses here at Hargreaves Towers. The other two are my Roy Castle Rose and a white one that was supposed to be a climber but has stubbornly remained at base camp despite verbal threats and Morecambe lifting his leg on a regular basis, which I would have thought would have encouraged it to grow upwards if only to get away from the smell. Anyway, the third one is the Comeback Kid. This is our Charlie Brown's Christmas Tree. If you don't know the story of Charlie Brown's Christmas Tree you can look it up on YouTube or something. I also think that Friends shamelessly stole the story so you might be able to see it there. Anyway, the Head Gardener picked this up at some garden centre for 50p. (despite my best advice) It didn't look very well at all. There was one tiny green bit on it and the rest looked like it was as dead as a dead thing in a half price dead sale. But this year - roses. Lots of them. Of course, I come from a religion, that thrives on comebacks and the longer I live, the more I see that makes me believe that anything can be recovered from. So I asked Head Gardener, who is pretty smug about his success to stop smirking and tell me what things he had put in place to ensure the Comeback Kid had the best chance of recovery.

1. Put it in the right place. Try and keep it safe from pests including Morecambe (Lucy doesn't wee-wee up things - it's a genetic fact) In short, give it the best environment possible.
2. Feed it well. This takes a bit of investment. (Rose feeder - Wilkinsons - £2.49 on offer - bargain!) but the time and the money is worth it.
3. Keep things gentle for a while. Watch it in frosts or scorching sun. Don't expect it to be able to take everything that is thrown at it straight away.
4. Expect the first recovery roses to be a bit weedy but don't lose heart. This rose probably wouldn't win any awards but keep doing the right things and the next set will be stronger.
5. In the end though, you put everything into place but it really is down to the rose. The right conditions are important but it has to actually do the recovery thing itself.

You are probably way ahead of me but these are good principles for anyone in recovery from any trauma - physical, mental or spiritual. Surround yourself with people you trust and know care for you and if you don't know enough people to actually be surrounded by then ask your closest friends to do their best for a while. Watch what you are feeding yourself with. You know as a Christian, I know no better source than the Bible but as well as that, keep away from the stuff you know drags you down. Be gentle on yourself. If at first you don't succeed and everything.. If the first signs of recovery are disappointing - it doesn't matter. Keep going. But in the end it is up to you. People can support. God intervenes. But it will take your commitment and effort to get back into the sunshine.

On a less edifying note. Head Gardener has an anti social habit of getting rid of snails by picking them up and throwing them over the wall. This is anti - social both for the snail and any poor person walking past. Anyway, all his chickens came home to roost this week when one of his snail projectiles just missed a neighbour. He thought of trying to get out of it by playing innocent and pretending the snail had either jumped or been dropped by a passing seagull. In the end grovelling just about got him out of it. He's too old for all this delinquent behaviour.

Challenging website of the week. This lady does the cleaning in 15 minutes a day. I do cleaning but could never get it done in that time. Maybe it's because she doesn't factor in stopping for a slice of lemon drizzle like normal people. Thats probably it.

On a personal note. My niece is now a bona fide holder of a degree. Congratulations Jessica.

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.

Window Box Spirituality

I attempted to discipline the Head Gardener this week for the state of the window boxes. Only a couple of weeks ago, this box was full of beautiful crocuses (croci?) but now you can hopefully see that the flowers are all dead and limp and floppy and the box has been over run  by all this untidy messy stuff. I informed the gardener that I would like it sorting asap but believe it or not, he refused. Apparently, you have to wait until all the green stuff dies back so all the nutrients go back into the bulb. Despite my initial suspicions about work avoidance strategies it appears that this is true. At the risk of making this blog like the "Deck Of Cards" by Max Bygraves (When I think of the King of Hearts I think of the King of my Heart - that sort of thing) It did get me thinking though. You know, I would really like my life to be a lot prettier and much less messy sometimes. Looking at this though, I do wonder if when all the rubbish is going on, then maybe that's when the important stuff is going on. as well. Maybe these times are preparing me for growth and better things later. The fact is, that its not all lovely all the time. Maybe we need those harder times to come back stronger later. Just a thought - take it or leave it.

Quote of the week (sorry can't give you a link - it'll be on the Times website and that costs money)
"The Welfare State.....After 50,000 years of civilisation still the only invention that gives normal people a chance of semi parity with the wealthy when it comes to education, medical provision, housing, justice, and access to the entire works of Catherine Cookson in a local library." Caitlin Moran

Weapon of Jack Destruction

Well not destruction exactly,just a squirty water bottle. A bottle which can be directed at an unruly dog and squirted - making him unhappy and  hopefully obedient.We have decided it's time for a bit of Jack discipline in this house and, following on from reading the spiritual discipline book, it seems that some of the principles you could apply to overcome a human habit also apply to dealing with a barky dog.

1. Identify the habit/problem that needs your attention. How long have you got? You can choose from a long list. With Morecambe we're going for  barking hysterically and flinging himself at the kitchen door whenever anyone arrives at or leaves the house.
2. Pin down exactly why you want to deal with this. Believe it or not, Morc's reasons for needing this dealt with ain't that different from a human habit. Firstly, this is something that can do him harm. Our kitchen door has a big glass window in it and we all have nightmares about him just jumping through it. This will be very dangerous but possibly not as dangerous as what might happen to him if he smashed the expensive kitchen door (this time at the hands of Head of House)
3. Enlist the help of those in your community that you trust. All human beings in the family are on board and supporting this. Mainly because people would like to have friends round without needing to run through the kitchen like Usain Bolt. Lucy, however, doesn't give a monkeys about Morcs and his habits and isn't above  taking advantage of his hysteria to nip his bottom or steal his food. (There is a moral here - not everyone will be on board when you are trying to change a habit - they will not always show this by trying to bite your bottom) 
4. Eyes on the prize. Sometimes, when we are recreating the classic scene from Singing in the Rain by wildly squirting water at a hysterical dog while we try to leave the house, we do wonder if it is worth it. As this point, it helps to visualize how good it would be to walk in and out unhindered and for the gas man to visit without having to apologise because the dog has lost control of his wee wee tube - up aforementioned  man's trousers.
5. Reward any progress with something good. For you this will probably not be a bit of frozen liver but that's what floats Morecambe's boat so there you are.

Of course, there's not very much spiritual here. He's only a Jack Russell and there's a limit to how far you can stretch the analogy. Still quite interesting to compare and contrast. I only wish Morecambe was as keen on the process as we are.

It's nearly garden, book and brew time.

Lo and behold it getteth warmer and sunnier. I did try and do one of my favourite things  - see above re garden, book and  brew but the truth is its still quite parky really and too much time outside leads to frozen fingers. Witness lunch today. Husband, Lord and Master breaks up my humdrum working day to take me for pasty in the park. My how we live. Anyway, I'm quite happy - they're nice pasties. Still, couldn't sit very long. Nose was getting redder and redder. Moved on to buy chocolate thereby keeping warm and having little chocolate treat to see me through the afternoon at work. Still, Spring is definitely giving the whole arriving thing some thought.
Reading about spiritual disciplines. More interesting than it sounds. The chapter about prayer is especially good. Has lots of ideas about praying that challenge all my prejudices. One idea is to resolve to pray for one particular issue for 30 days non stop. (Well not non stop, I have to go to work and things but you know what I mean ) A part of me thinks this is like setting a deadline for God which is disrespectful but, as I have a few things going on at the moment, I am thinking I would like to give it a try. And, if God thinks I am out of order, he can just ignore me. No harm done. Except to my faith. and my life. Oh well.
Rushing out of house to Communications Team meeting on Monday night and shower unit exploded - literally. Yes really literally for once. Always happens when you are in a hurry. Now we have no shower. Baths all round now till we get it sorted. Twelve foot tall son baths like Flipper the dolphin thus doubling damp potential in bathroom. Do you only stop worrying when you die?

Random Sunbathing Dog Moment

The sun is out in Devon (today anyway) and Mad Dog is as pleased as anyone. I have spent some of the week at a Community Transport Conference in Manchester (any more of this and people will think I am a real manager) so thoughts are a bit random again. (No change there I hear you cry.)
Returning to Manchester was good. Had some nice times with family and friends in the evening - after working hard all day and networking for England in case my trustees are reading this. Stayed in the Midland Hotel which was very nice indeed. I managed not to touch room service or the mini-bar. A hotel breakfast is surely one of life's lovely things. "Coffee or tea madam? Brown or white toast? Help yourself to the buffet." These are some of the nicest words in the English language.
Anyway, I'm not the only one gallivanting. Head of House and Senior Sprog have just got back from looking at York University. The boy completely loved it and that's where he wants to go. You must not think that my frequent hysterical sobbing means that I am remotely troubled by the fact that this is about as far north as he could go without leaving the country. I love York too but this seems a bit of an extreme course of action to make sure that we can all get tickets for the panto. (BTW - York Panto - best in the country. No discussion. Although any information in comments about York gratefully received) Senior Sprog's results so far are good. He has the offer. He's going I think.
Finally, some culture. I don't want you to think that I'm any kind of expert on Shakespeare because I'm not. Believe me, you couldn't be living here. Most theatre companies treat Plymouth like Narnia - only further away. But this week we were visited by the National Theatre who presented us with Hamlet. It was in modern dress, set in a kind of police state, giving it a completely different perspective. Rory Kinnear was as amazing as everyone said but there wasn't a bad performance. I went with Junior Sprog and at half time when I asked her what she thought, she was so captivated, she could hardly speak. We actually stood up to applaud at the end and I haven't done that since I saw the Funk Brothers at the Apollo in Manchester. Quite a moment.

International Women's Day

Christian women are sometimes a bit iffy about feminist issues. But the fact is that if you are female and you have a mortgage, vote, expect equal rights in your marriage and the bringing up of your children, then you have benefited from the work done by women's groups in the past. Watch this -  it seems the work continues...

When did that happen?

There are some questions which have simple answers

• The dog behaves like that just because he wants to
• Most annoying Glee character is Mr Schuster (although he has a lot of competition)
• Paul was the best Beatle
• West Wing is the best piece of TV ever made.

However, when I look at this photo, I have do have one question which I don't have the answer to

• WHEN DID I BECOME THE FAMILY MIDGET? (or perhaps more shockingly - the family Anne Widecombe look-alike?)

This week school sent home eldest sprog's last ever school report and the date for his last ever parents' evening. And so, despite all my attempts to ignore the facts before my very eyes, I now have to accept that the Head of the House and my good self are parents to a young man. We are both slowly coming to terms with the realisation that he will probably never again pronounce the word "gloves" as "glubs". He is unlikely to lie on his back with his feet in the air singing nursery rhymes (no matter how often we ask) He is now to be found shouting abuse at Question Time and insisting that his Thrash Metal cannot be heard three doors down. So as he leaves to check out universities, trailing the Head of the House (acting as his chauffeur) in his wake, I just wanted to draw your attention to the obvious. Time really does go so much faster that you could ever believe. Every moment has to be snatched , treasured, held to your heart and remembered. You probably know all of this and I probably know it too. It's just like most things it becomes a lot more real when it affects me.
However I will always remember him the way he was when we first gave him sweet potato........

About Bloomin' Time

It's the last day of February and, at last, Spring may be on the way. These are in our garden, well I say garden - its not Blenheim Palace but it's our own little patch of pebbles. Just when you thought it might never get warm again you look and the little green shoots are poking through and suddenly there they are.

There are probably lots of deep spiritual things to be said about patience and all that but I just thought it looked pretty and I hope it signals a decent summer. Anyway the Head Gardener informs me that there is a night frost due and they could all be dead by Friday so best not to be too deep about it all I think.

Thinking about something completely different, you know how certain sports events have to be on the BBC so people who don't have satellite don't miss out. Well that should definitely include the Oscars. Because you can only watch the Oscars if you pay for Sky movies and ITS NOT A MOVIE! So I have been left with completely rubbish highlights on even more rubbish Sky Living. So no proper opening. etc. etc. DISAPPOINTED!

"Its not the load that brings you down - its the way you carry it." - Lena Horne
"She's right. You do need to bend your knees when you pick heavy stuff up" - Daughter who hasn't quite understood what Ms Horne was referring to.

Here at Hargreaves Towers we are not blessed with acres of green but we do have the odd pot here and there, including this beauty. Its some kind of acer I think. we bought it a long time ago for Father's Day. To say it has struggled to reach its potential is a bit of an understatement - mainly because it probably shouldn't be in this small pot. Anyway, it does go a lovely colour in Autumn and has been known to become almost lush in the summer. What you can't see in the photo is that, a few years ago, we began to hang things on the tree. Nothing much, just the odd memento from nice places we have been  - things we want to remember. Like I say though, when the tree is all lush - you can't see anything hanging on it.

This is the tree at the moment. It's not as pretty - I'll give you that and the gardener should certainly be giving some thought to tidying up that back wall but - when its like this you can see all the hanging bits and pieces much clearer. All the memories are easier to see and despite the lack of attractive foliage, the tree has a certain charm (maybe only if you actually know what the ornaments relate to but that's your problem, not mine.)
Anyway, it sort of made me think about something I had read from Spurgeon which I'll post at the end. When things are bad and all we are struggling with stuff then somehow, when everything is stripped away, that's the time to focus on memories and the good that God has done for you. The things that you know to be true because you have experienced it and maybe need to be remembered. Sometimes, it can feel like these past experiences are all you have left but if He did it then He can surely do it again. Spurgeon puts it much better than I can

There must surely be some precious milestone along the road of life not quite grown over with moss, on which thou canst read a happy memorial of his mercy towards thee? What, didst thou never have a sickness like that which thou art suffering now, and did he not restore thee? Wert thou never poor before, and did he not supply thy wants? Wast thou never in straits before, and did he not deliver thee? Arise, go to the river of thine experience, and pull up a few bulrushes, and plait them into an ark, wherein thine infant--faith--may float safely on the stream. Forget not what thy God has done for thee; turn over the book of thy remembrance, and consider the days of old. Hast thou never been helped in time of need? Nay, I know thou hast. Go back, then, a little way to the choice mercies of yesterday, and though all may be dark now, light up the lamps of the past, they shall glitter through the darkness, and thou shalt trust in the Lord till the day break and the shadows flee away. "Remember, O Lord, thy tender mercies and thy lovingkindnesses, for they have been ever of old."

The Differences Between Us

List of items on husband's bedside table....

• Alarm clock (set at exactly correct time)
• Book he is currently reading.
• Box of tissues
• Lamp

List of items on my bedside table

• Box of tissues
• Book I am reading currently
• Books I am about to read
• Books I have read and haven't got round to putting away
• Photo of husband and children (In case I forget what they look like?)
• Pair of £2 glasses for reading
• Second pair of £2 glasses to use when I can't find the first pair because I'm using them as a bookmark
• Watch and rings which I have taken off when I realised I was wearing them in bed
• Body lotion for scaly limbs
• Nail varnish
• Clock (set ten minutes fast to give me an extra ten minutes in bed. Yes it does make sense and I know my clock is slower on the photo but I took my picture at a different time)
• Lamp
• Notebook and pen for genius like thoughts that may strike in the middle of the night - or alternatively, shopping lists

So we are not exactly carbon copies of each other - my chap and me. Yet, I know that as in most good relationships, it is the differences  between us that cement us together and keep life interesting. He's very patient and I was sent to develop that patience by trying it at every opportunity. So, quietly and without any great fanfare, I would like to use a day we never celebrate to say thank-you., bless you and all the other stuff which ain't no body's business but ours.

Welcome Lucy

This is Lucy and she is the new addition to the family. There may be a temptation to think that we have lost our collective minds. It's not as if we've exactly got the dog we already have under control. (By the way - mad woman on the park - a Jack Russell bounding towards you on the park does not constitute a devil dog attack and certainly does not merit wild swipes of your handbag at said Jack's head.)

But Lucy was my brother's dog and three dogs were too much for his partner to manage alone so now Lucy lives with us. So there.

Lucy is my first lady dog so it was a bit of a shock the first time I saw her do a wee wee but other than that she's just more of the same as Morecambe but a bit more delicate. Morecambe,of course, is totally annoyed by her very presence. Can't say we expected any different to be honest...