And more rain

Its a wet and windy afternoon by the South Coast. The rain is pouring down, the Channel is very stormy.  We had a good drive back yesterday - sunny most of the way - though there was a belt of heavy rain after Oxford.

We had another family get together at the bungalow on Saturday, in which the two youngest members of the family met each other for the first time.  Pretty, frilly, little Eleanor seemed quite fascinated by the tall, dark and handsome Harry, and kept toddling past him.  But he was busy with an Alien Making Machine, and I don't think she even appeared on his radar.

I was impressed by the way he offered his chocolates round without being asked.

They are both lovely and I only wish my parents could have been there to see them.

Talked to Audrey today, and am wondering if i can get to the field service group tomorrow and get back on the doors. Don't feel wonderful today but, obviously, am tired from the journey.

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The Rain

Torrential rain this morning. Col managed to walk Ollie just before it started - and we both went out shopping in the first mini-lull.  And got quite wet.  Ken provided an excellent and gigantic cottage pie for Lilac Tree, Derby and The Janet.   The two little cousins (Harry and Eleanor) met for the first time I think - the youngest of the great-grandchildren.

Us oldies are now sitting quietly, reading, or asleep, or generally flaked out.  Or blogging.

Janet and I now have each other's email address, so hopefully can stay in better touch.

The tribe from Derby do hope to visit us this year and give young Eleanor a few days by the sea.

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The numinous names

Ringinglow, High Storrs, Oakbrooke...  all the numinous names as we drive through the city to my sister's - all overlaid with layers and layers of memories.   And today (Friday) we drove over  The Snake Pass, via Glossop, to visit the tribe of Bea - or three of them at any rate.    More and more memories... what will it be like if we have lived for a thousand years?

It is damp and misty - a lot of mist on the high moor tops.    Tomorrow Lilac Tree Farm - all of them - are coming for lunch, plus the Derby mob, and Janet who I haven't seen for some years.

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Scooter the (un)Dread

Scooter has had a personality transplant since the last time we all shared the same bedroom. She tucked up next to me, and when I purred at her she purred and purred back.  She slept on me until my legs got too frozen (with arthritis) and I had to move. But she did not claw, bite, or sulk off the bed, just moved onto Captain B.

Perhaps she has finally got used to us coming and going?

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A wild and stormy December day

It seems an appropriate day to pull this little poem out of my poetry file.  The rain is pouring down, the Channel is roaring (with one valiant/mad windsurfer on it), and all those travelling this weekend are probably having to go by submarine.

I wrote this many years ago:

         HI TIDE   by me

  

The sea had long wanted to go into town

 So, early one morning, it roared in

 Found the arcades still closed

 And battered them down.

Captain Butterfly is at the other side of the table collating and referencing his years and years of wonderful coral photos.  He is going to provide a very interesting snapshot of the Maldivean sea.  I am listening to the DVD that Malcolm gave me of the Assembly I missed at Haysbridge.  Wonderful, and I so much hope I won't miss any more. It is a privilege to have two days with nothing to do but concentrate on being taught from God's word.

The speaker is just talking about the unselfish, loving and giving attitude that a Christian husband must have.  It reminds me how grateful I am for Captain Butterfly.

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Gym Lessons

Or P.E. lessons to those a little less old than I am.  Anyway, my visit to the physio uncovered that my exercises have done more harm than good and I am now on the list for hydrotherapy - as - gulp - urgent.

Got to the meeting last night, but only because Captain Butterfly drove me.  One of my young brothers was waiting at the bottom of the drive to help me into the Hall, and one of the elders helped me back down the drive to the Captain waiting in The Geranium.

Feel guilty and not like a witness at the moment as I haven't been out once this month. Am in some interesting internet conversations though - one with an American columnist - she replied to my email, I have replied to hers, will she reply to my reply?  I don't know. It must still be in the middle of the night there.   Aurora and her Chariot of the Dawn have just passed over us here, uncovering a lovely sunrise, and are now heading in the columnist's direction.

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The spirit of the world

It is a lovely sunny day today, but, par for the course at the moment, I am not able to go out. My right knee is swollen up like a balloon and the left one isn't too wonderful either. Nor is the rest of me - moan moan, whinge whinge.    Captain B very kindly drove me to the meeting on Sunday. I could have driven myself, but was so grateful to be spared the walk to the Kingdom Hall. We have no carpark now.

We had an outing yesterday!  To Pulborough Brooks.  We forgot to take my Blue Badge.  However I hobbled successfully to the Restaurant, clinging on to the Captain, we had a bowl of veggie soup, and then hobbled slowly to the pond afterward, where I sat on a bench and read my Daily Scriptures.

We went to Jackie's last night. She was feeling a bit down, I was feeling a bit down, but we all felt a lot more cheerful by the end of the evening.   She gave us Chicken Kiev with cauliflower cheese, cheese and biscuits, and, a Captain Butterfly favourite, apple pie.

I found this in the comments when reading the online Guardian this morning:

"You know, as a parent (albeit in the US) I think the problem is in another direction entirely...one that nobody dares point the finger at. And that is at the culture itself. Once I had children, I found myself at war with a culture that was determined to undermine every message of self discipline, restraint, or respect towards others that I was trying to teach. I found myself alone in a world that bombarded children with messages of disobedience for it's own sake, crass commercials psychologically designed to hook them on all manners of bad foods, and a bunch of enablers who screamed at every instance of parents trying to at least assert a little control over this. It is amazing the toxic crap we spew out for our childrens consumption, both physical and mental, and then wonder "who's fault it is" that they are the way they are."

And this:

"Another bugbear was constant references to 'confidence'. My daughter is well-mannered and reserved but with a strong spirit and and involved in many extra-curricular activities. She's a good musical instrumentalist and plays with ensembles which have taken her abroad for concert trips and this year, at 17, is sufficiently confident to embark on a Canadian trip for two months as a youth leader at a children's camp. However, she was consistently described as lacking confidence which concerned and confused me. Then I realised that what was applauded as confidence was actually what I saw in many instances as loud, boorish, unrestrained and generally ill-mannered behaviour."

http://www.guardian.co.uk/commentisfree/2009/apr/05/children-social-skills-parenting?INTCMP=ILCNETTXT3487

Ephesians 2:1,2 says:  "Furthermore, [it is] you [God made alive] though you were dead in your trespasses and sins,  in which you at one time walked according to the system of things of this world, according to the ruler of the authority of the air, the spirit that now operates in the sons of disobedience"

So here are two parents noticing "the spirit that now operates in the sons of disobedience".  Satan made himself a resister of Jehovah.  He now rules the world and tirelessly promotes the same spirit of rebellion in everyone.  Jehovah's word, and his holy spirit, are our defence against the spirit of the world.   And this is a reminder of the vital importance, the urgency, of the Christian preaching work.   

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