Toyah RIP

Today we said goodbye to our old friend, Toyah.
She first came to us over fourteen years ago, having been rescued from an owner who neglected her and was violent. For some time afterwards she became aggressive when seeing a man carrying anything which looked like a stick.

However, she settled in with the family and went with us on days out and holidays. Her favourite place was the sea and that is why I have included this photograph taken in North Wales. She also liked rescuing things from ponds and lakes and came back home with many a stray football.

Toyah also came with us on our many Medieval re-enactment weekends and was well known in re-enactment circles. She once enjoyed taking part in a mock hunt at Eastnor Castle, along with a group of other dogs. She did her last re-enactment at Rockingham at the beginning of the month.

Two years ago she had a stroke and we thought it was the end, but she recovered. Her chasing days were over as she would run for a short distance and then fall over! However, since the beginning of the month she became steadily worse, unable to walk. In the last five days she found it hard to breathe. The vet found that she had Leukemia of the Lympth Nodes and so the end came.

We thank God for her life and all the joy she has brought to us and those around us.

Our Duck

Our female duck has decided to nest under the bushes. Not great news I know, but this is our first attempt at blogging from our mobile phone.

Quite often we take pictures we would like to share but somehow never get round to it. Perhaps this will spur us on to do something when we are on the move an thoughts and images are fresh.

Tavener's Requiem

John Tavener

Last evening Gill and I had the privilege of attending the world premier of John Tavener's Requiem. The Roman Catholic Metropolitan Cathedral was a fitting venue for the performance.. as it allowed for the performers to be placed around the building, forming the four arms of a cross. In the centre was a lone celloist who represented (in the words of Tavener) the Primordial Light.

Different too was the content of this requiem for it contained works from the four major faiths of the world. To quote Tavener, "Today, the different religious traditions are often in conflict with each other, but inwardly every religion is the doctrine of the self and its earthly manifestations." He goes on to say, "The purpose of our existence in this world is precisely to understand the true nature of who we are."

I think I can understand a little what Tavener is saying. Some would argue that it is only in finding God do we find our true selves. However, God is in all of us and the more we discover our true self the more we discover about God

Tavener writes, "The essence of this Requiem is contained in the words "Our Glory lies where we cease to exist". That is, when one's false self is extinguished, the true self shines forth, and we have, in a way, become one with God."

The true self may never fully shine forth in this world but if we are truly open to God, if we are willing to take time to sit quietly in his presence, putting aside all thought, then I believe we can at least have a small glimpse of that future glory

We are Still Here

It is quite some time since we last placed anything on this blog. Both of us have been busy getting on (or not) with the things we have to do. Writing, it seems, has taken a back seat.

Since our last post we have thrown ourselves into our teaching world. Gill continues to teach part time and offer one to one support to young dyslexic children. I still work two mornings a week with disaffected children in Inner City Liverpool and, like Gill, offer support to dyslexic children. I am also involved with the training work of the Diocese of Liverpool. I have the grand title of Officer for Post Initial Ministerial Education! Sound's impressive, but the truth is something else. Basically, I am part of a team teaching and supporting Church of England Readers after their licensing. The way that the Church trains its Ministers (both Ordained and Lay) is changing. In years to come the numbers of ordained, full-time paid ministers will decrease and those being trained now may well have to fill in the gaps - hence the training.

On a lighter note, we are now the proud owners of two ducks and two chickens! The chickens were a 60th Birthday present to Gill from her sister. The ducks were another story. - Lets just say I was conned. Anyhow, they are very busy clearing the garden of slugs and snails and we have the advantage of fresh, free range duck and chicken eggs. As soon as the weather gets better I will post some pictures.

Hopefully, we will get back to posting here. Every Christmas we seem to get various long missals from members of our family. I find it hard enough just to write 'Merry Christmas.' - I suppose that is what comes of being dyslexic.

Zita Mary Pansy Smith: November 1918 - September 2006

Sadly, the loss of Gill's father in June has been followed by the death of her mother this month. The following are transcripts of the Tributes given at her funeral:-

The Funeral Sermon

Reading 1 John 4:7-12

The reading we have just heard seems a strange one for a funeral service; it is more suited to a wedding and indeed, is often used in that context. So, why has this reason been chosen? Perhaps the answer will become clear as I progress.

If we are to read our newspapers and watch the news on television it would seem that we live in a world devoid of love. This week has seen the fifth anniversary of 9/11. We have heard once again of the ‘War on Terror’- a war that has so far claimed an estimated further 72,000 civilian lives and the lives of over 3,000 service personnel in Afghanistan and Iraq. We have no idea how many have died on the, so called ‘other side.’

It seems that death and destruction have become the stock trade of the media, and it would be easy to assume that the world was full of hate and that love was dead.

But that is not the case. What go unreported are the thousands of small acts of love that take place day by day. In the rubble of Lebanon and the Gaza Strip, there are individuals working, supporting and loving those the world has forgotten, some working for Organisations, some individually.

In our country the same is true. We hear of the gunning down of a 15 year old boy in Moss-side, Manchester, but nothing of the Seventh Day Adventist Pastor, who is up in the middle of the night comforting the family.

So why am I saying all this? I am saying it because Zita was one of those unnoticed people who quietly got on with helping and loving people. Very rarely did she get into the news, and those outside here circle of family and friends most likely never knew some of the things she did. It is not for me to list them here - that is for those who will give the tributes, should they so wish. I simply need to say that Zita showed love to all: her family and friends, of course; but also to those who, through no fault of their own, needed care and attention, but most of all love.

Mother Teresa of Calcutta said: “I have come more and more to realise that being unwanted is the worse disease that any human being can ever experience. Nowadays we have found medicine for leprosy and lepers can be cured. There is medicine for TB and consumptives can be cured. But for being unwanted, except there are willing hands to serve and there’s a loving heart to love, I don’t think this terrible disease can be cured.”

Zita dedicated much of her life making sure that those with whom she had contact, did not feel unwanted and for that we give thanks to God today. Sometimes those acts of love were not without cost. In times, she too was in pain but that did not stop her. Love can be costly, but never as costly as it was to God. “For God so loved the world that he gave his son. Zita’s loving acts may not have been earth shattering but when added to similar acts that happen minute by minute, hour by hour and day by day, they help create a power that can never be defeated, a power that always triumphs in the end because it is the very power of God : for “God is love.”

So, today, we thank God for her example. However, hopefully we can do more than that we can follower her example and the example of others like her, in bringing a little more love into the world.

So the reading from 1 John is most appropriate. “Beloved, let us live on another for love is from God.”

Gill's and Elaine's Trubute

This tribute will be in two parts. In the first part I will attempt to tell you a little about the Zita you don’t perhaps know, because I know that many of you who join with me today, could stand here and give this tribute and most of you know of her life in the village and involvement with St Raphael better than I.

My mother was very much her father’s daughter. She imbibed and shared his fierce belief in people, his ability to be and remain independent in his judgements and actions, but to work within the structures of the society he lived in. Both mothers’ parents came from seafaring families, where men and women were separated for months at a time. During these times men needed to sew and cook and women needed to maintain property and manage the family affairs. So it was that Mother and her siblings were all taught to sew, cook, clean, and decorate regardless of gender. This got both of my parents into trouble from time to time. For example, the first time my mother was ill, it came as a bit of a surprise that she had to give my father detailed instruction on how to boil an egg. My mother horrified her mother-in-law by painting the window frames. I should add that at the time she was sitting on the window sill, painting the outside of an upstairs window and she was quite heavily pregnant.

Mother’s father was a teacher and for that he was viewed as a rebel by the family. The same strength that enabled Grandpa to persue his career in education was shared by mother. This enabled her maintain her stand for those and for that which she believed in. None more so, than in her successful resistance to all the pressure and well intended advise regarding my sisters education. Elaine’s sever dyslexia and the then teaching method resulted in her experiencing very sever difficulties at school. School was fee paying. Our paternal grandfather, who got to where he was by working his way up, did not understand why my parents thought it necessary to pay for our education, never mind that one of the children wasn’t learning. There were times when only my mother stood between Elaine and at the very least, a school for the ineducatable. I wonder if during this time, my mother ever imagined that this child she fought so hard for would become a university graduate?

Mother grew up during the great depression of the nineteen twenties, a time when there was no welfare state. Her father was the headmaster of an elementary school. Grandfather took his duties very seriously. She told us about two brothers who had been expelled from their previous schools. Grandpa took them in to his school. He eventually found they could draw and he encouraged them in this. She told us that when they left school they eventually made a name for themselves as artists. Mother and her siblings regularly lost second best coats or shoes to children at his school who had none. Nor was this the sole province of my grandfather. Mother remembers coming home from school to find her mother rifling the beds for blankets. Granny had gone to assist a farm workers wife who was giving birth to a baby. There were no blankets or coverings in this womans home apart from newspapers. Grandma had no spare blankets so everyone in the house had one less blanket on their bed.

Like the Queen, mother’s life was governed by her strong sence of duty. Whatever the personal cost, mother would always act according to that which she perceived as her duty. She never talked about it, but it underpinned everything she did.

I do have to say that at times she was very sorely tried. She once told me that, following her engagement to my father, she was introduced to his extended family. She found the inspection by elderly aunts quite vexing. On one occasion she was asked if she liked housework. When she replied in the negative, she was asked why she wanted to get married. I believe her honest blunt reply rather shocked this victorian lady.

I would like to tell you about when we grew up, about the chickens, about her care for her mother-in-law and her own parents, her sacrifices, the fun times like the impromptu picnics at West Mersea, the embarrassing times like the washing up in the oven and holding up the London train because she lost her shoe on the track.

I would share with you the love of dancing she shared with my father, Sequence dancing at Kesgrave and the gold medal.

After Elaine and I grew up, Mother joined the Town’s women Guild and through them was able to attend some very interesting meetings on the then modern trends in housing. It seems boring to us, but when she talked about it she really lit up! But then when Grandpa retired for teaching he became a councillor. He was very heavily involved in promoting the idea of social housing. In fact the first council houses in colchester were built in the road Councillor Ham lived. As I said My mother was her fathers daughter.

Eric Jack Plant Smith 17 Feb 1912 - 10th June 2006

Post from us have been rather lacking of late. Both of Gill's parents have been very ill and her father past away on the 10th of June. The following is the obituary notice from the Essex Evening Standard of 16th June:

PLANT SMITH
Eric Jack
On June 10th 2006, after a short illness in Ipswich Hospital, aged 94 years.
Loving Husband of Zita Molly, dearly loved Dad to Gillian and Elaine,
Grandad to Sarah, Amy and Catherine and Great-Grandad to Callum Raymond
and Benjamin Neal.
Funeral and celebration of his life at St Andrew's Church, Chelmondiston on
Friday June 23rd at 12.00 noon. Refreshments in the Church Room followed by
interment at Oakfield Wood, Wrabness at 3.00 pm.
Donations for the Woodland Trust, or flowers, may be sent to Farthing, Singleton & Hastings, 650, Woodbridge
Road, Ipswich, IP4 4PW


When going through his possessions we came upon a number of diaries written during the war. On the back page of each was written this saying: Today is the tomorrow we feared so much yesterday ... and all is well.

I though it appropriate to use that saying in the reflection that I delivered at his funeral, the text of which follows.

Dave

Reading: John 14:1-6 Jesus said to his disciples: ‘Do not let your hearts be troubled

Today is the tomorrow we feared so much yesterday.. and all is well.” These words were found written in a number of places in Eric'’s war diary. They were written at a time when life was uncertain, when there was a real possibility that he would never get back to England and see Zita and those he loved again. Indeed, if he had not been on one of the last troopships out of Singapore he may well have ended his days in a Japanese POW camp, as did many of his friends. Like many servicemen in the last war, to dwell on the possible horrors of tomorrow would only distract from the enjoyment of the present. Like so many of his contempories it was the day in being that took priority - they lived for the now.

Was this a bad philosophy? One would think so if all the pundits of the 21^st century were to be believed. We are told we have to set goals, aims and objectives both in our work life and our personal life. We are encouraged to plan for the future. It seems that more and more we are being asked to concentrate on what might be rather than what is. Of course, planning for the future is not wrong. Eric was an 'all round' man who knew that future plans were sometimes required. Indeed, some time ago he asked us to plan ahead for this funeral! However, he did not let future plans distract him from living the life that was at hand

Eric'’s philosophy finds a resonance in the words of Jesus in John 14 (and coincidentally another favourite reading of Eric's) Having told his disciples that his ministry must end in death, Jesus finds them sad. It seemed that all their hopes for the future had been shattered. The friend in whom they trusted was to be taken away from them. Jesus responds with ‘Do not let your hearts be troubled. Believe in God, believe also in me. In my FatherÂ’s house there are many dwelling places - I go to prepare a place for you. In other words, Don't fear tomorrow I have got it all in hand -I have planned it - you get on with your life.

Eric loved life. He took an interest in many of the things around him whether that was, on his retirement, discovering new an fascinating things in the insect world through the lens of his microscope; working in the garden and watching the seasons unfold in the fruit and the flowers he grew; observing the changing face of the river from the windows of the Crow's Nest, or simply enjoying the visits of his grandchildren. These and many other things made each day unique and something to be enjoyed.

No one can preach our funeral, we preach our own. Eric has perhaps preached his in the words and the reading he has left for us. He is in good company, for in the early 17^th C St. Francis de Sales wrote these words: Do not look forward to what might happen tomorrow; the same Everlasting Father who cares for you today will take care of you tomorrow and every day.

Like the disciples, we come here today faced with the death of someone who is dear. To us the words of Jesus still speak: Do not let your heart be troubled. We are here to place Eric into the hands of a loving saviour who went before to prepare him a place, but also we place ourselves in his hands, in the confidence that he loves and cares for each one of us.

Today we commit the past to God when we thank him for the life of Eric, for our memories and what he means to each one of us. We leave the future in God'’s hands and we go out to live the day that God in his infinite mercy has given to each one of us.

Do not let your heart be troubled - for today is the tomorrow we feared so much yesterday and all is well.

Changing the Future

For a while now I have, like many people, been researching my family history. Up to now I have concentrated on my mother's side of the family as I already had quite a bit of material to go on. Now I'm back working on my father's side.

Having the surname Chambers I always thought that we had come to Liverpool from either Scotland or Northern Ireland. Imagine my surprise when the 1841 Census my Great, Great Grandfather in Nottingham. Another surprise is that I only have to go back four generations (excluding me) to get to 1791!

It appears both my Great Great Grandfather and Great Grandfather were both lace makers. They both saw their jobs change as the Industrial Revolution took hold. My Great, Great Grandfather mechanised and began to employ men, whilst my Great Grandfather came to Liverpool to seek his fortune. Sadly, it was not to be and the records show that he had a variety of Jobs: butcher, provision porter, miller and a railway worker for the LNWR. Naturally, I would like to find out more.

I find researching the past puts my own life in perspective. How I worry about this problem or the next yet, even though they may seem large to me, they are just a tiny blip on the passage of time. The problems my forebears faced and the reasons for them have come and gone. However, the decisions they made at the time had serious ramifications for the future. Without my Great Grandfather seeking his fortune in Liverpool, this blog would never be written ,simply because I would not exist.

All of us face problems, that's life, but they need to be put into perspective - they will not last for ever. However, in facing those problems we will be forced to make decisions and it is those that will shape the future. I find that a big responsibility!

On Yer bike!

Today was quite a milestone. In an effort to get fit I took my old bike down from the garage wall, blew up the tyres, oiled the chain and went for a ride. What is so strange about that? Well I have not been on a bike since our holiday in Cornwall over four years ago, and certainly I have not gone off riding on my own for something like fifteen years.

Cycling was always something I enjoyed back in the eighties, sometimes I would ride alone, sometime with a friend. Trips between sixty and a hundred miles were not unusual and I covered vast tracts of Lancashire, Cheshire and Wales. I always found cycling a ‘spiritual’ experience, and there was a time when it would leave me more spiritually refreshed than going to church. Sadly, when my back became troublesome, my bike was hung up only to be taken down occasionally.

I must confess I was a little nervous getting back into the saddle but, as my feet slipped into the pedal clips, it was like I had never been away. O.K. today’s trip was not far, just along to Croxteth Hall and back, some eight to ten miles, but the bike performed well. Perhaps what is more to the point, so did the rider, although I admit that I was in a lower gear than I used in the past, and the saddle seemed harder than I remember. What is important is I have made the first step to do something I should have done a long time ago.

Since I last rode there are more cars, but there are also more dedicated cycle tracks. Maybe trips of a hundred miles are now out but there are still plenty of places to be visited.

Dave

Time, Life and the Garden

It is a while since I wrote anything here. I have found things very tough in the last two weeks or so and, in spite of the idea that I would keep a record through such times; I have not, and in honesty did not even try. Surviving through each day and fulfilling my responsibilities were as much as I could do. I remember a Christian man I much admired saying that he had prayed every day all his life until an acute illness. I think it surprised and humbled him that he was unable even to pray during the worst part of the illness. Perhaps I should not be too tough on myself.

It is quite surprising, how we cope with some of the most difficult situations, but then something quite silly ‘knocks us for six’, as they say. I was going to try and tell you about it, but it is sometimes better to draw a line under unpleasant periods, let them go and move on. That is what I am going to do now. I am going to tell you about the four cordyline plants I bought.

During the spring of last year, we radically restructured our garden. Although I did loads of planning, the restructuring seemed to take on a life of its own and sort of evolved. We had planned an informal garden party on the Sunday afternoon following our middle daughter’s wedding. The event was nearly on us as we finished a crazy paving semi-circular patio area. This was bounded by a narrow curved flower bed and a path. In record time, we planted the flower bed with some bedding plants we bought and others we already had in pots. It was a bit of a hotchpotch, but it seemed to work. We were blessed with two glorious summer days for the wedding and the garden party.

As the summer progressed, we had a wonderful show from achillea, which grew higher than I had planned for the bed. In the autumn, we cut them back and planted some winter bedding plants, but the lack of height made the bed uninteresting. That is where the cordyline come in. One of the plants in pots, that we planted in the bed before the wedding was a sad looking cordyline. In the summer, it was lost amongst the yarrow, but over the winter months, it has been quite spectacular. We decided that we would buy some more, to add winter height. Of course, December and January are the wrong time of year to find such in our local shops, but this week Wilkinsons has got their new stock of plants in and I was able to buy four green ones. We wanted green. Our soil is quite dark and we have some bark areas, both of which result in the red ones being somewhat invisible. So yesterday, we planted them out. At the end, of the garden we have some ornamental yellow grasses, which have grown very well. Dave suggested that we split them and introduced this yellowed green to the bed as well.

It is now May; Dave thought the above piece of writing needed an ending. It did but there was no ending, so I avoided writing anything for weeks and weeks and weeks! Silly isn’t it. The spring bulbs I planted far too late have grown up, out-shone the cordyline and are now past their best. Even the achillea is growing up and getting ready to flower.

I make no apologies for my humanity. What I am I am, but I am finishing this. We watched for every bulb and flower. A single daffodil began to open on St David’s Day. This was followed by a succession of other narcissi planted at the edge of the lawn by the path. Of all the experiments with the bulbs, this was the most successful and is something to develop further next year. After the encouragement of the first daffodil, we were a bit disappointed because we seemed to have a poor response considering the number of bulbs we had planted. We had planted a number of different varieties. These came up and flowered at different times. We had to be patient It was not going to happen all at once. May be that is something I need to learn in my life.

I began this piece, by commenting on why I had not written for some time and even before it is finished, I allow myself to be hindered. Perhaps I need to be patient with myself.

And the cordylines? They are doing just fine

Gill

Diary Extracts

I'm conscious that over the past few weeks there has been little contribution to this blog, so I'm including some extracts from my personal journal to bring things up to date.

Dave

17/04/06

Easter Monday

19:53 - In the Premier Travel Inn, Ipswich. This is the second trip planned for our Easter Break. We are down to see Gill's parents, both of whom seem frailer every time we see them. It is sad to say but we don't think GillÂ’s father has much time left, so bringing Callum down with us is important for both of them.

Conversation with Gill's sister, Elaine, has lead to thinking through what to do about funeral arrangements. Both want to be buried at a green site some distance from the house. There are no facilities there for any kind of service, and there is need of somewhere for that to happen. There is the possibility of Chelmondiston Church, but there is no minister, whether I could conduct the service in another diocese I'm not sure. I will need to speak to our Bishop ASAP. How well Elaine could cope with organising things is also doubtful, she is far from well herself and lacks the stamina needed, she is also the one nearest to Eric and Zita and, as such, is likely to be the one most affected.

Although there is a little sadness in this visit, I hope that we can also find some pleasant moments that we can enjoy. Tomorrow afternoon we hope to get to Felixstowe with Callum.

18/04/06

After breakfast we left the hotel to make our way to the Crow's Nest for around 10am. The previous day, as Gill's mother had wanted us to start the initial planning process for their funeral, we had discussed with Elaine the need for some sort of service at Chelmondiston; we stopped at the church to jot down contact details. We were fortunate in meeting one of the wardens and were able to discuss with her our needs. When we finished at the church Gill drove the car round to the house while I walked with Callum across the fields.

We had decided that as both of Gill's parents get very tired, we would take Callum over to Felixstowe in the afternoon. Life at Pin Mill is getting quite difficult. Gill's dad is obviously failing, he now hardly moves out of his chair in the lounge, and is waited on by Gill's mum and Elaine. To make matters worse, Gill's mother is in constant pain and seems to have lost a lot of weight. She is moving both slower and with much more difficulty than when we were last down. However, they do appreciate the visits, and in particular seeing their great grandson.

After lunch we made our way to Felixstowe. Callum got himself thoroughly wet playing in the water. After a change of clothes he decided he wanted to go on the boats. This was followed by a round of Crazy Golf.

Leaving Felixstowe we made a nostalgic trip past where Gill's parents owned a beach hut. It lingers in my memory as a place I went with Gill on our first summer holiday back in 1970. If that was not enough we drove past their old house in Bucklesham Road, another place where we had holidays when Sarah and Amy were small.

19/04/06

The first part of the day was taken up with visiting the undertaker, again part of the pre-planning we have been asked to carry out. Not exactly a pleasant task when one is having a break. Because of the nature of this visit, and the problems we have had with the dog's health, I'm glad that I booked those few days away at Ironbridge when we were able to suspended everyday problems for a short while.

21/04/06

Things are very lazy here and not much is getting done. Part of me wants to laze around but another part of me knows that we will pay for it next week when round of work and meetings gets going with a vengeance. I have an AGM, Communion Service and the Franciscans on top of a normal week as far as clients are concerned, plus we have to prepare for the weekend away at Eastnor. My problem is I would like life to be one long holiday. The only problem is the bank account keeps on emptying!

22/04/06

Feeling quite 'down' this morning. Whether it is the usual 'end of holiday' feeling or a reaction to the events at Ipswich is hard to say. I'm in that cycle where I don't want to do anything, and then worrying because things are not getting done.

I realised this morning that the main problem I have with my spiritual life is that I have tied it in my mind with having to either do or prepare something. I appear unable to differentiate between 'private' spirituality and public ministry. However, that differentiation is something that is going to be very important in the months ahead and even more so if I should be ordained. I think this may be similar to the feelings of Francis, when he had to choose between a life of quiet contemplation and preaching among the people. I guess Jesus must have felt it too.

This morning we took the dog out for a walk at Allerton Towers. It was very pleasant. Toyah is still not fully recovered, but she does have more confidence. I guess it will take a while for her to get back most of her mobility, the good news is that the longer she goes the better the prognosis.

Later on we took a trip out to the National Wildflower Centre. We wanted some thyme, but there was none. However, we did buy some other plants while we were there. On the way back we called in at a paving supply firm in Huyton to look at possible paving slabs to finish the work we started before the wedding last year. We have some ideas that will mean we will be able to walk around the garden in the winter.

23/04/06

St George - not that one would notice. Just a few English flags on cars, but no official celebrations as for St Patrick's Day. I remember when we were in Catalonia for this day and the celebrations there. Women were given roses and men were given books, there were bands on the street and everyone was in a festive mood. I would put our lack of celebration down to English reserve if it were not for the fact that we are good at celebrating other things. Perhaps we only obtain any sort of national identity when either our football or cricket teams are playing?

Today was our first Sunday at the church without a vicar. David Prescot presided at the Eucharist. David used to be a member of our choir before going forward to ordination. He has been left for three years now. Some say that he has expressed a desire to come back as our incumbent, time will tell if that is the case. Anyhow, everything seemed to go well and the turnout was not too bad for the Sunday after Easter.

25/04/06

Well, I have now goat myself back into things after the two weeks holiday. This is only a short half term of five weeks and includes not being in next Monday as it is a bank holiday. I have no doubts that before long I will be sitting wondering were the last school year went. Indeed, I have just been thinking that, if I was still in full-time teaching, I would be coming up for retirement in just eighteen months time. But should I be thinking such things? Better to enjoy what I have now. All the deaths of recent have reminded me that life is short, and none of us know how much time we have left. I'm getting there, but I still think too much of either the past or the future.

26/04/06

18:09 - Elaine rang about an hour ago to say that Gill's father has been taken into hospital. In some ways that is a good thing as they intend not only to deal with his pneumonia but examine the reason behind his long term eating disorder. Gill's mother will also get some respite. However, I don't think he, or the family, would want him to pass on away from home. Lord, he remains in our prayers.

In a few moments, I will be leaving to conduct the Wednesday evening Eucharist. I confess to being a bit nervous, which is not at all like me. I see this as a great honour. I also feel unworthy.

27/04/06

This has not started as being the best of days. Once again I have one of my raging headaches; the kind that makes me feel quite sick. We have a Franciscan meeting here this evening, so the downstairs will need to be tidied. Most of that task will fall to Gill before she goes to work as, every time I put my head down or move quickly, I feel quite sick. She has asked me to pray for her and so I bring here before you Lord. It is not easy for her with her father in hospital, having to look after Callum, tidy the lounge, tutor and go to work all in one day. I often complain of the things she does not do, but the truth is she does quite a lot for which I never seem grateful.

13:49 - Only now is my headache starting to go, although I think it could return quite easily. We shall see what the doctor has to say about it when we go for the x-ray results next week.

I was reminded last night that I need to write something for the front of the St. David Messenger. (Around 500 words) so Lord some ideas would be nice. At the moment I am thinking of talking about Journal Writing or Blogging, but that may be too much for people. The other thing was to talk about the month of June and how important it is in terms of the year. All of these are ideas with nothing concrete behind them, so I am open to suggestions.

02/05/06

Back home after a long Bank Holiday Weekend at Eastnor Castle. I was so good to meet up with old friends from the re-enactment world. When I say 'old friends,' that is becoming true for many of us in a very real sense! One of the things that was different about this event is that Amy came with us. It was her first re-enactment in twelve years, but it was like she had never been away, particularly as she took charge of the dancing.

When meeting old friends like this, it is easy to become nostalgic. What I need to be isgratefull for all the wonderful times and wonderful people we have met over the years. How many people get to camp in castles and beautiful places around this country and abroad? How many get to use things that people used in the past and, what is more, share that knowledge with other people.

10/05/06

Just been sitting our in the garden trying to make the best of the warm weather we are having. There is a whole host of things that need doing but it seems a shame to waste the sunshine. Just now the garden is looking quite lovely. The work we put into it for the wedding last year has paid off. Many of the plants have matured, and the seeds we prepared in the earlier part of the year are coming into flower. I have to be thankful for our garden, not only is it nice to look at but also it is somewhere one can sit and unwind after teaching.

12/05/06

2:30pm The good weather of the past few days is about to break. After a couple of hours of rolling thunder the first drops of rain are starting to fall. Theforecastt for the weekend is not too good, but I am thankful for the days we have had. I am also particularly thankful that I managed to get the grass cut this morning!

As I write Gill is making her way down to her parents in Ipswich. Her father remains in hospital and this is putting a great strain on her mother and sister, neither of whom are in good health. We are a little unsure what she will meet when she gets there and this weekend is as much about assessing the situation as it is about visiting. In the case of her father we are expecting the worse.

Don't Forget the Batteries

At the moment, one of the draws in my office is full of batteries. There are AA’s, AAA’s, D’s C’s -1.5 volt and 9 volt batteries. Why? Because we wanted to be sure that when our grandsons opened their toys at Christmas, they would not have the disappointment of having a toy that would not work for lack of power. Even, with all our careful planning we nearly got caught out when we found that one toy needed some obscure button type battery. Fortunately, we were able to buy one in time.

For a child there can be nothing worse than opening some marvellous present on Christmas morning only to find that it is useless because there is no power.

We rely on power, without a charged battery, that mobile phone in our pocket is just an expensive piece of junk – totally useless as a communication device. At least when mobile phones first came out once the battery was flat you could use it as a door stop! We can spend thousands on the latest new car, but without that small box of lead and acid, it's not going anywhere.

We too need power. There is the power we get from food, and that keeps us moving, but there is also another power that comes from outside ourselves - a spiritual power that drives us and makes us more than just a machine. Christians would call that power the Holy Spirit; other religions may know it by some other name. I suppose that Star Wars die hards would call it the 'force'.

Some years back I remember struggling with one toy which refused to work, even though I had the correct batteries. In fact, I had tried more than one set of batteries. I was about to take it back when I remembered an old, little used, rule of mine “If all else fails, read the instructions.” Hidden away, where I hadn’t looked, was a very small on/off switch. For the power to work the switch must be on.

Over the years I have come to realise that the best way to switching the power on is to get away on my own to somewhere quiet where the pressures of life can be put aside for a while. There I can find the power.

The weeks leading up to last summer gave Gill and I very little time and space. Our second daughter was married in June and we were taken up with a lot of planning and preparation. For me the summer term had proved less than easy, so come the holidays I was exhausted and it was beginning to show. We had the chance of a ten day break in Northumberland, but even that did not go to well at first. We were camping and for the first couple of days the weather proved both cold and wet and I was getting quite grumpy.

On the Tuesday, Gill suggested that I went off on my own to Holy Island (Lindisfarne) which I did. Despite the summer tourists, I was able to find the quiet I needed. In a few short hours between tides, I had become fully recharged and a longstanding question had been answered.

We took extra care over batteries this Christmas; the events of summer have taught me that I need to take the same care over my own batteries. We have made sure that, in the office draw, there are plenty of spares. At the beginning of 2006, we need to make sure that we sort out both times and places where we can find a recharge - and make sure the switch is set to on.

Dave

First Post

Ok, so two fifty-something’s have decided to start a Blog! For us this is a crazy idea. Being dyslexic we both have a difficulty in getting ideas into the printed word - and our spelling can be very creative at times! However, we do feel that we have things we would like to share with family, friends and anyone who wants to take the time to read what we have to say. We hope to get things up and running in the next week, as soon as we get all those initial thoughts out of our head and in to print!