Meantime, Down in the Deep Dark Dell…..

With all the rain of the last few weeks - and more today - there’s been plenty of growth in the lawn.  I think ours is a ‘field grass’ lawn, with a few bits of better class turf which have been bought in along the way to bolster the gardener’s morale.  What we actually need is a robust, low-growth, sturdy, fine-leafed, dog-pee-proof, maintenance-free, hen-proof type of grass which grows extremely slowly…….  Any suggestions?

Having pulverized said grass into submission with the mower I now find I need to crash on the sofa for 6 hours. … well, for 30 mins minimum.  Just taking the dog out has a similar effect. This fatigue and lethargy may relate to the recent finding of raised blood pressure, which will be addressed with doc tomorrow morning.  That Easter Wipeout Virus may be involved, as a persisting erratic cough has been surfacing intermittently since then.  And the recent growing realization that the HRT was probably a significant factor re headaches, low morale, increasing irritability, poor quality sleep, joint pains and recurring hot flushes instigated a stop……. some relief for 5 days, but then the sleep and flushes got even worse, so back to the formula of several months ago which made a HUGE difference – for about 2 weeks…………. Oh, to have been born male………

I guess this current ‘deep, dark, dell’ holds a few insights as well as multiple chewy beanstalks for the old cow ….(reference to my Latin teacher’s attempt many moons ago to remind her pupils of the vocal stresses considered necessary when reading pentameter verses out loud….. visit ‘ChickPea Risotto’ to read the rhyme)………

As a teenager I lived for several years in deeply distressing gloomy despondency.  My teenage friends didn’t seem to relate to this at all, so it was mostly held within.  I confided a little in my parish priest, a kind and wise gentleman (with a wife and 3 daughters) who did his utmost to guide, support and encourage my spiritual journey and development through those troublous times. 

As my family didn’t even begin to acknowledge or communicate about ‘internal stuff’ I don’t suppose they had much of a clue, really – I was just their moody Youngest who wouldn’t ‘snap out of it’ (….like there was a choice, eh?)

For me, it was just how/where Life Was.  It never occurred to me that there might be a REASON for it – like the hormonal shifts / imbalances which assail some at puberty.  I hope that today’s parents, priests, GPs and youngsters are better informed.  But I now realize that the Dark Places I have been bogged down in for these last many weeks of Great Grief seem to have a very similar terrain to those swamps encountered in teenage years.  Hormonal Gymnastics seems very likely to be a related, and maybe the causal, factor.

Insights like these don’t feel like a lot of help, however.  GP or Specialist just says, “stay with these tablets a bit longer and see if it all settles down”, or, “well, I have just the answer to the sleeping problem – take these”……. so the joint pains return, irritability sneaks in below the radar and escalates into epic proportions before muggins notices Something Is Amiss.   

Fortunately I have generous friends who accept me as I am.  Such kindness is a gift more precious than anything, and such Friendship is awesome………

A Most Mighty Mystery

For much of my life, the ‘Easter Season’ has been a major focal point of my life.  Lent, Holy Week and so to Easter…….. a yearly recurrence with ecclesiastically structured prompts of silence and solitude to stop, review, reflect, assess and reassess ……  meeting myself……..who I am…… what I am……… where I am at ……..  Not an easy process, and rarely a comfortable or enjoyable undertaking.  But, sure as light follows darkness and eggs is eggs, this time of year seems to require of me a certain engagement with the essence of mortality…… a kind of ‘head to head’ with fundamental reality. 

For me, this Lent has involved a looking back over my shoulder, whispers from the past, glimpsed shadows of The Loved But Lost  who have passed on to eternity …….. renewed recognition that Water Passes Under The Bridge, and the twigs and ‘Pooh sticks’ of everyday existence catch in the reeds for a moment, then swirl away out of sight and into the far distance………….        The hopes and dreams of what the future just might hold fading in the harsh glare of Time’s headlights.

And so we reached Palm Sunday last weekend, then on into Holy Week. 

Today we approached the Maundy Thursday liturgy.  Stark contrasts of a rich sung mass (this year to be the Rheinberger setting) with the slightly embarrassing simplicity of feet being washed; the clash of fancy ornate robes and vestments with the everyday action of taking, breaking and sharing bread and wine.  So much Big, Bright, Shiny and Lavish……. and then the shocking and harsh removal of all our accustomed church furnishings and embellishments ……..  the solemn procession to a symbolic garden……. and then a darkened, chastened church…… and silent vigil …. the waiting for the end of it …….

So it would be, as so many times before.  The rituals stirring up the hearts and minds and feelings of the assembled congregation in so many ways……. some engrossed in the act of worship…….  others just there for the music….. some appalled at the time it was all taking…….    others perplexed by the sheer drama……. Tumultuous, as at Gethsemane.

So it would be, and, I guess, so it was. 

TH has been floored by an ‘upper respiratory tract infection’ for the last two weeks or so, sore throat, hacking cough, sleepless nights, papertrail of tissues…….. not a chance for him of singing the glorious Rheinberger this time. 

Ten days behind him, finally feeling flesh succumbing to the inevitable last Sunday,  I thought I would at least manage to be a part of the assembly tonight.  Rehearsing tonight I realised this hope was futile.  The voice was strained, and though in tune (so far as the dull deaf ear could tell) was probably not particularly pleasant and doubtless far from reliable. Risk assessment  for the occasion indicated strategic withdrawal was mandatory.

So I took the dog out to romp with her canine companions in the gathering dusk, marvelled at the beauty of first-laid eggs from our junior hens, and moped with my husband. 

Head to head with the disappointment and devastation of not being where I wished to be, nor doing what I wanted, and not even feeling up to returning later on to creep in to the dim and desolate silence, finally sheds yet another perspective upon fragile Mortality.

Reluctant Christian

It occurs that maybe I mis-named this blog. Maybe I should re-name it the name of this post. ‘RC’, even. (Now, THAT might be fun – limitless potential for confusion - I’m sure I could find all sorts of interpretations of ‘RC’, eh .....)

So why didn’t I ? Come to that, why don’t I........... why won’t I ?

Part of it is the intervening history of this label ‘Christian’. Christ, the historical person, MUST have been quite a man. To have influenced individual people to such a degree that they gave their lives to take His teaching throughout the world and effect such an impact upon the globe, the Man Who Started It All MUST have been Quite A Man.

But also over the intervening hundreds – ok, thousands - of years , many, many crimes have been committed under the banner of ‘Christianity’. Do I REALLY want to be associated with such a history by embracing the label of ‘Christian’ ?

You see where I’m coming from ?

But what of ‘The Man’ – that astonishing figure that started it all – without the assistance of newspaper, TV or internet.

And what of the remarkable people – both males and females - who have been astonished, inspired and motivated to positively influence, astonish and inspire the world – all through their own personal understandings and encounters with ‘The Man’. Many of whom gave up their lives because they refused to deny this faith.

Maybe I do feel reluctant – and perhaps scared – to wear the label of ‘Christian’. If this means ‘being Christ-like’, seeing the world ‘with the eyes of Christ’, caring as passionately about the world as did ‘The Man’ himself, extending love to those who need love - then rather a lot seems to be required.

So – REJECT all this ‘church’ and ‘Christ’ stuff - why bother with the whole ‘Christianity’ thing at all ?

Well....... there’s the heart of the question. Try as I have through the years to turn away from this way of life, the integral demands involved, the personal questions and challenges raised........... Try as I may, turn and run.....wherever........however............. whatever.......... I keep meeting the essential truth and challenge of ‘The Man’.......Christ himself........... and repeatedly encounter that amazing love that will not let you go..........

‘Reluctant Christian’ ? ........ Too right. But, somehow, and equally, ‘Committed Christian’.

This week....

Some weeks are good/great/grand/positive.  But sadly, not all.  Such is the way of it, and it seems to me, such is The Real World Much Of The Time. 

And such we need to learn to live in, and - somehow -  flourish within, and in which find ways to support, tend and nurture each other for the common good.  If there IS any ‘Meaning Of Life’, then I think this is it.  Someone Else, a few years back, phrased it as “Love the Lord Thy God, Love your neighbour, and Love yourself.” (hmmmn........ look where it got him.......).

But if the ‘Christian’ thing has any relevance, substance or purpose, then this must surely be inextricably  fused into the centre and distilled essence of my life.  Acceptance of Harsh Reality.  Love, Care and Concern for all around.  Some people may understand this in a very localised way to the people they encounter, others may embrace a more ‘wide world’ concept inclusive of All Things – four footed, feathered, ‘creeping upon the earth’ or growing within it.

Such details of a person’s faith need to be distilled, decided and determined by the individual concerned.

So, in dealing with the daily trials, tribulations and running sores of life, where is a feasible starting point ?

“What Did Jesus Do ?” is sometimes a difficult answer to discern from what we have written upon the printed page.  Hence the various interpretations held in thrall by different traditions, which any one person needs to investigate and maybe challenge in seeking their own answers.

“What Would Jesus Do (Here And Now, With Present Understanding And Resources) ?” is an even trickier question.

“Pray” is probably a most valid answer to both questions, and is probably the most unexplored and most unused solution to Everyday Trials And Tribulations in most lives.  It may seem facile, trite even, but yet it still seems to be the answer facing ChickPea, and any subsequent result still seems to be ever one step beyond reach.

I wonder – did the disciples manage to pray and hold fast to faith through those initial days after what we now celebrate as ‘Easter’ ?   Each of them must have felt so bereft, so very empty.

What we do know is that they met together for mutual support.  Truly, ‘Love, Care and Concern’ in action.

Aye, I guess it does it for me.

Easter Monday

Dull, wet and cold. Internal atmosphere in sync. The morning after the night before.

This has been an excellent Easter at the Cathedral.

All the pomp, ceremony and fine music making from which the Episcopalian tradition takes such inspiration and delight; all the angst, confusion, bustle and conflict that today’s interpretation of Liturgy seeks to encompass in order to encourage the gathered community to engage in the deeper aspects of the proceedings; and all the preparation, effort and application that are required to make all this happen.

Of course, each of us can pick at the whole to find faults and shortcomings – we’re all exceedingly accomplished critics, enjoy engaging our heads in dissection of each service that we have attended, as well as a few that we didn’t, and staunchly both exercise and defend this right of critique...... ‘This was too long’. ‘That was too disorganized’. Something else ‘lacked solemnity’.....'had too much waiting around' or was 'too simplistic'.....

All are excellent defences guaranteed to distract our attention from perceiving the essential truths and personal inspirations which are ALSO available.

The hens are out, seeking Tasties. Nothing escapes attention. Everything can be turned over, pecked at, dug into, or otherwise investigated in depth. Try it and see if it’s good. (Who knows what you might find ?)

All it takes is a little positive attention and focus.

A Thought for Today

If you were arrested for kindness, would there be enough evidence to convict you?
- Anonymous

BirdWatch Weekend

This is the last weekend of January, and the RSPB has again requested an hour spent counting birds. So here I was, between morning service and evensong, relaxing in our lovely conservatory, yawning in the sunshine I confess, and counting all sizes of feathered visitors. And keeping young Monster Mr Mog under lock and key, of course. His birdwatching is certainly enthusiastic, but seems likely to have a rather different ‘end agenda’ to that requested by the RSPB............

We had fully stocked up the feeders and bird table in the glorious sunshine this morning, knowing it’d be this afternoon before I could sit down for the count. And then, at last, the time had arrived.......

What a rare treat these days.

When DJ was with us he loved sitting out in the conservatory, a great addition to the house that greatly increased our quality of life by enhancing our regular awareness and contact with the Outside World. When DJ first moved in he would spend most of his day, every day, sitting out here and enjoying the visits of so many different bird species. When he needed constant care it became a great treat for me to be able to sit down and share this haven with him. But as his dementia steadily got worse, DJ sadly lost touch with such gentle peace and pleasure from the creatures around him.

Yes. Today it was good to spend time in the conservatory.

TH and I have been very aware that the numbers of our garden’s feathered visitors have been declining over the last few years – but what a shock to realize that we have had fewer than twenty birds visiting over this last hour, with a group of just five birds (chaffinches, as it happened) being the largest group at any one time – as opposed to several years’ previously when counting eight or more birds at a time before they flew off was a real challenge.......

So what DID we find this year ? Sadly – no collared doves, no starlings, no blackbirds, no house sparrows...... and, sadly, very few others. Just two robins, one magpie, one great tit, one coal tit..... I nearly stopped counting early, too – but it was worth waiting for those very last two minutes of the hour – those final moments fleetingly brought a second bluetit AND a second long-tailed tit into view and into my final figures – both of these were in groups of several birds together last year.

All thanks to the RSPB for their work and attention to these lovely creatures..........

Intending to Pull The Leg......... but Treading On Toes....

I was out for a little light refreshment after Evensong on Sunday. As One does. If’n you get half a chance.

Anyhow. There we were, chewin’ the fat, watching ‘Countryfile’ (on the inevitable TV screen, thankfully behind me), and generally bletherin’ (as you do in these parts of Northern Britain)........

............and then I became aware of them sittin’ opposite me becoming totally and utterly entranced - had I suddenly gained that tantalising ‘X’ factor for which I’d searched all my life ? .......cor.........how amazin’ ...... how my life will change ! ..................or ........er..............had the programme changed ? - was it maybe – just perhaps - the slinky young things in leather choreographically cavorting around the screen behind me........ ah well, you wins some an’ you loses some, eh.......... an’ – here’s thinking positively – wouldn’t THEY make Evensong a bit different, eh ?

Ah me..........

Anyway, the conversation turned to Young Furryface Bart Catlet, and his Encountering The Hens that very afternoon. “That must have been rather frightening for him” quoth the man in black opposite, “A hen must be an awfully big scary thing when you’re as small as Young Bart.” (Or words to that effect, anyhow).

And, of course, he was absolutely right – but as I thought he knew me fairly well, I confess I thought I’d wind him up a bit. Pull The Leg. Gently. Bit of a joke, an’ a’ tha’........

“Oh, no” sez I blithely – “he’s a BOY – Monster Hens are no problem to BOYS”...........

Now, from my starting point when watching the kitten, that statement was reasonably accurate – young Bart was TOTALLY entranced by these Bossy Birds who were fluffing themselves up to look twice as big as ever they could be, and whereas my ole girlie PoppyCat at the same age would have run a mile, Young Bart, tho certainly a wee trifle wary, was Absolutely All Eyes And Ears And Curiosity..............

OK. I was being a bit naughty......... playing such A High Stake Gender Card quite so ruthlessly after a long Sunday.

I thought he’d rise to the bait all the same. Implying gender issues are – or could ever be - so clear cut is actually so very completely contrary to my understanding and approach to life........... I was so sure such a ridiculously cocky stance would be challenged. Safe bet even. Banter would ensue. A little gentle swordplay.

But I had totally miscalculated .......... well, I probably hadn’t calculated at all, really.

End of conversation. I was sorry for that.

But over these days since, it HAS made me think. About things with which I thought I was not only fairly comfortable, but suitably sensitive. And considerate. I think I was wrong about that too.

For some of us these issues may seem fairly unimportant, magnified by Certain Others out of all proportion, and therefore ripe to bring into play for a bit of a laugh...... but for ‘those others’ these same issues are so very VERY real, and personal, so very relevant and integral to their whole being, that these selfsame issues carry a much MUCH greater importance than may be realised............. I know I have sometimes thought of gender orientation as being like having blue eyes rather than brown, or being tall rather than short (and either of those can be hard enough to come to terms with, trust me) ...... but it’s all rather more personal even than that, isn’t it.............

Naming the Game

Hello. Two days ago was sunny – one of the most fabulous and sunniest days that Glasgow has seen in a while. A fine day. A glorious day. A Good To Be Alive day. Even, maybe, a “Good To Be Me” day. My thoughts turned to blogging............... an’ I thought it wiz about time I admitted to still being here.

My energies of the last too many months have been somewhat channelled towards seeking employment – and over the last several weeks, devoted to assimilation of the new job requirements.

And are these demanding ? Thank you for asking. Demanding, yes – but not in the “saving lives in ITU” league – Thank Goodness. No one is likely to step prematurely into The Next Realm if I don’t do this job well enough. That Responsibility, Those Jobs are Now Done By Others. Thank Goodness.

I think I’m only just beginning to really recognize the cost involved in carrying such responsibility for so long. When I first took up the reins of the post I remember hoping that I’d recognize when the time arrived to move on.

I loved the people I cared for.......and yes, for me it was right to weep with those who wept and rejoice with those who rejoiced.........and, as a dedicated professional, I learnt to leave each bedside and go refreshed and new to the next, meeting each as an individual needing a unique and considered approach. I loved the staff I worked with........... well, most of them ........being human I met some I found difficult, and one in particular with whom I did not find a satisfying working relationship. This still imparts sadness.

I was totally committed to the requirements of the role. I hated the politics, and as I got older I began to struggle with the hours and energy which were consumed. I think I did recognize something of this – but I couldn’t see a way out.......... or a way forward.......... or sideways, or back, for that matter. It was going to be a difficult process, by whatever path..........

Thank you, BlogVisitor, for visiting, for being around, and sharing something of the rough and smooth of the path which has been involved. The blogging community have been so very supportive – especially over the long weeks and months of unemployment. I would never have expected such kindness and encouragement............. from generous folk from all over the world. Thank you. Thank you so much.

And now – where is ChickPea now ? Ah well, there’s a question............

Two day ago, several times, in fact, in my new administrative post, I was momentarily aware that I was in a good place - the ‘right’ place, and doing the ‘right’ thing............. And it felt Good To Be Alive.

The learning curve involved in the new job continues, and much of the time it still feels as if I am carrying a big pile of dinnerplates while running into the wind across a steep shingle beach with waves crashing and the tide coming in fast....... struggling to keep balance........ and not fall............struggling to keep going............. trying to make progress and gain distance – whilst the tide was getting ever closer..........

But maybe I can look at this differently.........the winds are blowing, yes, and with unpredictable gusts from most unexpected directions...........and tide and waves are close and closing............I guess there’s an element here of ‘storm’ and a disciple losing heart whilst Christ sleeps in the boat..........

A steep shingle beach is certainly not the easiest of surfaces to run across............... but maybe what’s actually happening is that I really am All At Sea - and learning to windsurf............. !

Aha – what would an analyst make of that, then, eh ? A very typical life experience, I guess, but somehow, when it’s the one you’re in yourself, it can be quite difficult stepping back far enough from the wood so that you can see the trees.......... and feel the sunshine on your face again.............

I’m sitting here with the Catlet resting on my left hip and reaching across the keys to both Help n Hinder.

He’s a Fine Fellow, this Bart. He doesn’t fill either of his predecessors’ shoes of course – my beloved white and tabby Judith was a most dedicated CompanionCat, and The PoppyCat too was One In A Million – like each and every one of us. Special, and unique, and totally irreplaceable. And every life has room for at least one more...........

Each day the young Bartholomew grows a bit more in size and stature, and finds new things – real or imaginary – to chase, or challenge, or ambush.........or to snuggle up to.............It may be tall, bipedal and bearing food............ or four legged, black and white, and with Big Teeth.............. BUT ...........Everything Is Fun..........Everything has the potential to Be Great..........and young Bart shows us, time and again, that if you approach it sideways......... and especially if you divert its attention and take charge of it almost Anything CAN be transformed............. ‘dull’ can become ‘shiny’.............. ‘boring’ can be realigned to be ‘exciting’.......... even just a leaf can be THE most EXCITING THING EVER.......... it just All Depends On HOW You Can Take It By Surprise.....

Perspective. Attitude. Imagination. Trust. Focus. Commitment. Enthusiasm. Love. Daring..............

Who would have thought that such a small Catlet-Kitten-Thing could show us so very much in so few weeks?

Maybe there’s more in young BartholoMew’s name than meets the eye, eh?

Livin' an' Lernin'

ChickPea’s havin’ a nite in tonite. All Alone. TH had to go away to a conference. HAD to get by without his Trubble n Strife. (or did he mean ‘had to get away from’…..?) Anyway. Poor Love. Up before 7am, and a long long drive (with his boss). Miles away into the far blue yonder. Back of Beyond. Far far away (St Andrews). Poor thing. He’s having to ‘make do’………… with the hospitality of ‘The Auld Course’……….HUGE bedroom. Many-course supper. And booze. Don’t you just weep for him ? !!!

Anyway……….

Telly’s on. And she’s getting some edukayshun…….. Wot’s this ?

Presented Physiological fact: Female body has…. WOT ! …… LESS water than yon male ? An’ THAT’s why she’s not allowed as many units of alcohol as his nibs, ‘cos HE – being more water, dilutes his intake more efficiently……….

HA ! So much for ‘equality’, eh.

Just as ChickPea thought. All that ‘politically correct’ stuff about ‘gender’ and ‘God’ becomes significantly more suspect….. such a dire and fundamental (here meaning ‘basic’) unfair inequality MUST prove ‘God’ to be male………..

Re-View

Lots happening. Rowan Williams. Sunshine. All Saints. All Souls. ‘Thin stuff’. Chewy stuff. Ingredients for The Kitchen. Much of it currently half-baked. Still cooking. And yes, there’s probably currants in the mixture as well. And a chicken or two……….

Ten Things Currently Visible From ChickPea's Window

1. Raindrops
2. Loads and loads of beautiful red cottoneaster berries
3. More raindrops
4. A recently cut hedge – tidy for the winter !
5. Rain on the windowpane
6. Trees turning all the wonderful hues of autumn
7. Raindrops dripping off the cotoneaster
8. Grey clouds
9. Puddles
10.Even more rain…………

Led by the Spirit indeed......

ChickPea found another kindred spirit today….. well, ‘re-found’, ‘re-encountered’. (Amazing what you can find when/if you look, eh !) TWO posts on his blog since she’d last sought him – a wealth of words and heaps to consider, loads to want to answer. But a ‘learned reader’ she is not. How on earth to respond to the question, “Should we always respond to the Holy Spirit ?”……….. but even if his blog’s ‘comments’ seemed inadequate a forum for beginning to address this, would the question go away ? Indeed not………it fizzed and frothed in Chickpea's head........

So let’s see what we can find in ChickPea’s kitchen……..what insights can be found amongst the various ingredients, stirrings and splashes from today’s soufflé……..

Steven says, in his blog 'Searching for God', “The Holy Spirit. Should we always respond to the Holy Spirit? What does it feel like in the life of the Christian to first recognise the Spirit and then to respond in submission to it? I think I am familiar with the first issue. I know, I think, what it feels like to feel the Spirit move me. Sometimes, especially when faced with someone else's pain or poverty I feel a desire to do something. I feel not just compassion but a desire to turn the compassion into an action. For example, I was walking to the train station from work. A sad homeless man shuffled along in front of me. He was wearing an old suit and white trainers. His face was cut up. He was carrying a cup of coffee and stopped to pick up what appeared to be a small coin. I wanted to stop and take this man for a proper dinner, to feed him properly and make him feel like a human being. I also wanted to go home, get my own dinner and relax after a bruising day in court. What did I do? Well I ignored the Holy Spirit of course and justified it by saying I did not know if the man was drunk or sober. I know it brings to mind a middle-class slushy teenage sense of Christian ethics but it is perhaps helpful to ask, "What would Jesus do?"

Indeed. What WOULD Jesus do…….? I know what ChickPea has done on oh, so many occasions……. Exactly the same as you, Steven. Now, putting aside the “Jesus” question, which I think diverts us from the real issue here, and to which I think we may already know an accurate answer…….. IS this action given here a ‘non-response’ ? – or is it a response, indeed, of ‘ignoring the Holy Spirit’ ? …… or of ‘declining’…. ‘refusing’…… ?

“Should we always respond to the Holy Spirit ?”. Can we, indeed, NOT respond in some way, if we have been aware in the first instance ? My own thoughts are that we usually DO respond to things…… maybe not as we would like to, however. We may ignore, or refuse, or only partially respond as we feel called to respond. Sometimes we are just not up to the task, nor ready to seek the strength to enable us to respond in such a way. Maybe it will cost us too much…….. the money, the energy, the time, the love that we just do not feel capable of giving. It may be a cop out, but I consider all of these as parts of ‘the human condition’, part of being a son or daughter of ‘Adam’ and the inheritance of ‘sin’ which comes along with this package, and which is intrinsic to my very cellular composition……

Hence my need for redemption, for being saved from being the ‘less-than-ideal’ me, and transformed, through the Love of God and the example as well as the sacrifice of Christ, into ‘The-Me-That-I-Was-Created-To-Be’……… the Me that will be so much more than I can ever be on my own, and that will be so very MUCH ‘Me’………. Not ‘someone else’ – but Me.

And maybe, just maybe, trying to respond positively to the Holy Spirit in the opportunities that arise along the way will gradually assist and effect the personal growth, that transformation, that Can Be. That the original ‘Redemption’ has made possible. That is always there, awaiting the positive response. That with love – the Love of God – the Love of Others – even my own feeble and faltering Love that allows me to try and respond of a time – Can Achieve the unbelievable.

Well ? Well ?!! Don’t just sit there ! Hide if you must – but what do YOU think ?

PS. Call round to Steven's blog here : http://stevenmcquitty.blogspot.com/

Holiday Haverings........

What’s a ‘Holiday’ ?……… “Time to rest, relax, recuperate, re-charge, re-create……”

So, here we are. The Hubby has his main holiday of the year. Two weeks away from the office (we’ll overlook the morning he disappeared off for a meeting, and the night out on Friday). So, ChickPea – despite jobseeking continuo – is also (technically) ‘on holiday’. And now we’re nearing the end of the second week…..

And, what ?

Well, if you’re resident in UK you’ll know about the rain…… more rain………even more rain…….. and more rain.

And if you’ve been reading this blog you’ll know TH has spent much of the last two weeks in bed with a flu-like bug which is reluctant to leave, and which has bestowed a ‘post-viral’-like state, just in case TH was beginning to feel any better. This prevented the planned brief trip away last weekend, and guarantees TH a low mood, low morale and misery (luckily, with a small ‘m’ – he does try, very very hard, NOT to be grouchy. Difficult with Man Flu).

I guess this scenario ‘goes with the territory’ of the moment. But it’s a bit disappointing. Certainly Shoots The Muse In The Foot (most successfully !) So ChickPea has been cooking. Again. (Have you tried the Risotto ?). TH is a bit dischuffed she’s spending so much time on her laptop, but ChickPea reckons this is much the same sauce enjoyed by the gander……

(Hope you’re following this amorphous mixture…too much wooden spoon, not enough blender...)

But……. Why does the male of the species use different spectacles when he looks at the female ‘taking time off’ than he uses for himself ? I know he’s ill, but……….

Why is it ok for ChickPea to be houseworking or ‘job-stuff-ing’ when ‘on holiday,’ or (learning to) editing photographs, but not ok to be blogging…… when TH spends hours and hours hisself, editing photos, surfing whoknowswhat, paddling in e-bay, or somesuchlike…….

Sorry, I’m a bit grumpy tonight……… maybe I’m getting Man-Flu too……

Better take Mr Mutt out for his Late Constitutional……. Where’s the brolly ? Nite nite.

Knowing The Way

ChickPea is pondering…..again. How do folk know which way when travelling life’s paths ?

“Good morning chookies. What matters to you in Life ?”
“Who ? Us ? You’ll ask us what matters ? Well, there’s a thing…… oooh – there’s another one ! And if we scratch here….. and there…… we’ll find more things…… some of them good, and tasty, some not….. some lost, some well hidden……. And of course we’ll tell you all about it – everyone will hear about what we think……..”
“Ah. So you’d have been out front, outside, last Sunday, fluffing your feathers and strutting about, finding something to nag at………. And maybe missing the Fundamental Truth…… but With The Best Intention….. I'm not so sure you’re Episcopal hens after all…..””

“What about yourself, Mistress Mog – what helps you in life – you’re not a map reader – what tells you The Way ?”
“Ah, well. I’ve seen Things Change. The ups and the downs. My first move is – if it’s sunny, sit still in the sunshine. Rest. Enjoy. Stretch. Wash and brush up. If it looks right, and interesting, explore it. (Carefully). If it tastes right, eat up and be given nourishment.”
“I see. And if not…. ?”
“Ah. They say ‘Curiosity killed the cat’ – so I’ve been kinda careful. For nineteen years. If In Doubt – Sleep. Has been ok for me so far. Worked for DJ. Worked Out Right for him eventually.”
“I see you’ve found a deep truth there, Ms Mog.”

“And you, Mr Mutt ?”
“Me ? You noticed me ? Wow ! Well – I say that if the walk is going along a fine path, good view, interesting smells, I’ll go too. Head up, tail up, bright eyes, great smile. If I don’t like the look of it, I’ll dig my feet in, drag behind and question the whole package. Should certainly be able to eat it – or give it a try, anyway. A certain decorum is appropriate…….if it’s LOUD and noisy, I’ll likely vamoose – and go another route. Offskie…… Most important of all – it’s got to smell right.”

“Not so different from the last posting, eh.”

Uh huh. There’s maybe a grain or two of good seed here, amongst the weeds and rubbish. The Big Man Himself, all those years ago, would have fondled these beasts. And I’m sure Mr Mutt wouldn’t have bitten Him……..

The Dark Knight

Good film. Joker certainly deserved his Oscar. But very dark. Very violent. Quite gratuitous. Much be a '12' rating purely on technicality. Parents need to be aware.

Watch........ (enter ye not into temptation...)

You may (or there again, you may not….) recall ChickPea’s Timepiece. Of the wristwatch variety. Well – it did it - Yet Again - both Once Too Often AND Too Many Times ( ie.self-selecting ‘menu’ / ‘reset’ / ‘anything-in-the-world-except-the-time’ that is )……

So………

Back to Mr Asda (sorry, Mr Lay Clerk), to peruse the Field Of Options.

Such a field may be amongst the fairest of places to be on a good day, with the sun on your back and the wind on your face, the buttercups around your feet and the skylark ascending……….

However………

This morning it was raining. Well, it was raining by the time ChickPea got halfway to Mr Asda’s most local premises. Luckily, Mr Asda had previously accommodated ChickPea’s wish for an Umbrella. All Was NOT Lost. Just not dry. Not at all dry. Soggy jeans and damp T-shirt notwithstanding, ChickPea furled her brolly upon arrival, girded her lions, and Sallied Forth In To The Field.

Now – what’ve we got here then………..? ……………Digital……. NOooooooooo !!!!!!!!!!!!

Lots of Analogue Alternative Attractions……… blue faces, yellow faces, green faces, sparkly bits, pink bits, straps, bracelets, numbers, no numbers, round ones and square ones, big wans and wee wans………. Oooooh ! What a Field To Fancy……….

Sadly, the Boy’s Own £6.00 Man on the Surfboard (was a fine fellow and companion that one) was not to be found this time (off to the beach, doubtless)…. So, with ‘Interview’ in mind, ChickPea thought she should eschew the ‘pink pussycat’ options and get Something Suitable (TH will be relieved)………. but............. How Boring……….

Time shall again, at the point of fullness, doubtless, Tell All…………

Discerning The Time........

Now – what IS ChickPea on about this time ?

‘Discerning The Time’ … could be about the sun……. When Mr Mutt was out for his ‘early’ constitutional recently, the sun was well up, but had not yet reached the zenith. So I guess it must have still been ‘morning’. But getting any closer to digital accuracy would be tricky. Aye, Discerning The Time can be interesting, plus or minus a sundial.

Or it could be about ChickPea’s infamous watch….. An A**a Special (we’d better use the stated principle of Protecting The Innocent – even for A**a…) which cost ChickPea an extravagant £5 when previous watches had Given Up The Struggle or simply Wandered Off Elsewhere. The previous A**a Special was of analogue design, with clockface and hands ……. and a wee chappie on a surfboard (yup - kinda fun !) This yin is digital…….. and ChickPea finds herself doing mental gymnastics to re-visualize the figures as a face with hands…….. ‘cos rarely is she asking “What time is it ?” but “How long have I got till……” or (more often) “How late am I ?” This yin also has the irritating habit of engaging ‘reset’ mode at most inconvenient moments, so even a digital representation of the time is something of a surprise…... Aye, Discerning The Time can be challenging with a digital watch, too……..

Maybe she’s concentrating on ‘The Time’ because ‘The Way’ is actually the relevant question. Where on earth does she go from here ? Where and how will she find employment ? How will she pick up the current pieces and make them fit together in a gainful package ? How will she motivate herself to cope with it all ? Aye. A wee episode of Displacement, maybe. (And complete lack of Discernment of any sort at all).

Perhaps she’s bogged down in ‘Biological Clock’ stuff. That would certainly help explain some of the loopiness we’re seeing (according to ‘Grumpy Old Women’ programmes on UK TV).

Or maybe she’s gone metaphysical on us, and is alluding to Those Moments In Life when you find yourself drawn towards Another, and Wondering………”If I Should”……. or, “If I Might”…..… it may be someone you know, or someone you don’t know – but the dilemma can be similar………. sometimes The Time Is Right to reach out and give…… or to Open Communication Channels and drop the barriers and receive……… and sometimes The Time Is NOT Right, or not appropriate…….. Who Knows ? Aye, Discerning The Time can be most perplexing….

Or it could be that she is still going over and over and over in her heart concerning the unfolding of timing regarding DJ’s re-location of living circumstances into Permanent Residential Care……..

Aye. ‘Discerning The Time’……a dilemma…… and I guess sometimes, despite determination….. you just can’t.…. for yourself. Sometimes you just have to Trust Others, knowing that their ‘outside insights’ are shared thoughtfully, kindly, carefully……… with Love For All Concerned.

Who Knows. (That Immortal ‘Who’ again….)

'Discerning The Time'. What are your experiences and insights ?

Tuesday.....

What a glorious sunny day we had yesterday for the Public-holiday Monday ! Hope you had good weather and a good weekend.

Was a Good Day here – TH and Mr Mutt were finally recovered from the Major Upsets they had experienced after eating a hotdog on their trip north to pursue necessary dealing with DJ’s flat. A hard enough job at the best of times. Anyway, Much Was Accomplished before the Unexpected Onset on their way home, and 48 hrs later recovery was progressing nicely.

Meantime DJ, Ms Mog and I chuntered on fairly steadily. Did I tell you that the hearing aid has finally arrived ? Wax prevents full reliable functioning – but (hopefully) that will get sorted out by the GP on Thursday. (Same problem with last 2 hearing aids – each time we waited weeks for the District Nurses to come along and sort out the wax problem to optimise hearing function and Quality Of Life……… when they finally arrived, they insisted there Was No Problem and – as guidelines say ‘don’t syringe’ – guess what ? – they wouldn’t syringe…….. I’m now told the wax is very deep and tho softened by our regular use of ear drops, will continue to further compromise DJ’s compromised hearing until it is cleared – either by syringing, or by an ENT Specialist picking it out bit by bit……….) Meantime, we now have a fair chance of DJ hearing SOMETHING – though no guarantee of him either listening or responding……

So – it was worth trying the church service on Thursday – all went ok – so Sunday morning was also feasible. Bless his heart, DJ managed very well indeed ….. for the service. A Very Kind Lady from the congregation cheerfully decided she would look after him so that I could sing in the choir, and they managed very well together. DJ followed the service ok, stayed awake, and seemed pleased to be present. Cup of tea after. All Well.

And then there was a wedding. Needing the choir.

This was Not Ok for DJ. …… I guess I had been too optimistic, and hoping for Too Much.

There was no way we could risk disruption to such an important occasion. So TH stayed to sing (Tenors being in Short Supply just now), and DJ and I went off and grumped in the nearby park. Not sure who’s temper tantrum won – but it was all verbal – and we both survived…

And now it is an overcast and somewhat grim Tuesday….. DJ did not sleep well thru the night – kept getting up, for no apparent reason - just wouldn’t settle. So I let him sleep on this morning. Now he’s up, breakfasted, and Stomping About In A Grump. The zimmer bangs against everything, the door handles get pulled about, the feet drag and the vocal sound effects deserve an Oscar. And, sorry – but I’m not exactly The World’s Best Nice Thing this morning.

We’ll get the S.A.D. light out after lunch and play dominoes………..