I have been asked this question so many times this week. Are you ready for Christmas?
In fact, I do feel ready for Christmas - which is probably not the expected answer.
The last two weeks have been extraordinary. I have hoovered behind the bed head and my bedside cabinet. I have mopped the kitchen floor. And today we vacuumed out the car and even washed it by hand. Later today I began to wonder what is going on with me - ... nesting??
No, definitely not. But maybe not for my own baby... Maybe I have been subconsciously cleaning up my life for the baby who is coming, who is about to be born, again. Advent is supposed to be a time of reflection and repentance, to prepare ourselves for the coming of Jesus. I have spent time this autumn raking over my Christian life to some extent (through a "Freedom in Christ" course at my church). And now all this physical cleaning?! Of course, in fact Jesus came not to a clean place all prepared for him, but into the opposite, a make-shift bed in a mucky stable. So I don't think we need to clean up our lives for Jesus to come into. But on the other hand, I am feeling that it is good to make the place (my heart, not really my house) ready. Ready for a new birth, a new beginning. A life lived with a Person, not with a set of doctrines or resolutions.
"The Returnee..."
We are in the middle of a roller coaster of transition. We left Uganda on 1st July, and travelled to visit Dan's family in America... Now we arrive in England, where I have not lived since 1992, almost twenty years ago... I left young free and single, and return with an American husband and two children, aged 11 and 9... I hope to describe the experiences of "the Returnee", with, no doubt, flashbacks to our African life, and commentary from my children along the way...
Sunday, 22 December 2013
Sunday, 15 December 2013
Best Reads 2013
Boy I have read a lot this year. Partly because of taking the bus to work two days a week (I drive on the others). Also because... I have come across some excellent books.
My reading year started with receiving a Kindle for a Christmas present. Having been reluctant to have one, I finally decided, though, that a Kindle might be a good thing. And I do believe that it has led to... more reading! I still read "real" books, borrowed from the local library, or from my brother Mark who reads as much if not more than me, or occasionally bought. And maybe one in three books I read on the kindle.
Kindle books:
I started by reading all three Hunger Games books by Suzanne Collins. I raced through them, quite drawn into that world (another dystopia to add to my collection), wanting to know the outcome. The books are gripping, although I kept asking myself if I really should be reading about teenagers being made to kill each other. A bit dodgy... But now that Alex has read them, I am glad I did first. And we all enjoyed seeing the two films so far.
Another attraction of the kindle is that many older books are free. So I have filled in quite a few gaps in my reading of classics this year. These included Mrs Dalloway by Virginia Wolf - so clever how it segues from one scenario to another as though the reader leaps from one narrator's head into another's; The Bell Jar by Sylvia Plath - a fascinating journey with the suffering narrator, where you get to experience what electric shock therapy is like among other things; The Picture of Dorian Gray by Oscar Wilde (“There is only one thing in the world worse than being talked about, and that is not being talked about.”) - if you haven't read this, I highly recommend it, it is a fabulous story and so beautifully, amusingly written.
Also on Kindle I read Sacred Hearts by Sarah Dunant, which is a historical novel set in a convent in Italy in the 1500s, about a younger daughter who is sent to the convent against her will because of an "unsuitable" romance - living through that captivity with her is eye-opening. Quite an easy read but very evocative.
"Normal" books:
One great non-fiction book I read was The Child that Books Built by Francis Spufford. Since the author grew up reading many of the books that I did, it was such good fun being reminded of them all, but he also analyses them brilliantly to show how they shaped his growing understanding of the world.
Another non-fiction book I adored was Congo Journey by Redmond O'Hanlon. This is a bit like Blood River in that it tracks a somewhat crazy white guy as he makes a sometimes dangerous, always fascinating journey on foot and by boat through the Congo. The author was interested in the wildlife of Congo in particular, giving brief but lovely descriptions of the birds and insects he found; his ultimate goal was to find the Congo dinosaur which was said to inhabit a remote, sacred lake. Whether he found it or not, I'll leave for you to find out... It is an amazing description of the country and the people he travelled with, giving occasional glimpses of the terrible history of the Congo. O'Hanlan entered fearlessly into the culture, drinking palm wine quite wildly with his guides at night, acquiring a fetish to keep himself safe, surviving on foufou, fish and monkey meat... Total immersion. It is a wonderful read.
I also loved The Blue Afternoon by William Boyd, a murder mystery/love story/historical novel which describes 1930s colonial life in a new part of the world to me, the Philippines. The main character is loveable and annoying - but you so want to know how it all works out for him in the end.
I raced through The Snow Child by Eowyn Ivey, set in 1930s Alaska - a very sweet poignant tale of an older couple who long for a child; it reads like a folk story and is based on one - it is a beautiful book.
My two favourite books were Flight Behaviour by Barbara Kingsolver, and Sacred Hunger by Barry Unsworth. Flight Behaviour combines my interest (is that the right word?) in global warming, with the fantastic writing of Barbara Kingsolver who is one of my top authors. It tells of how an invasion of monarch butterflies transforms life for the people of an Appalachian town.
Sacred Hunger is a historical novel set in the 1700s in England, about the slave trade, and human nature. It is told from the point of view of a wealthy merchant who sends off a ship to buy slaves from West Africa and sell them in Jamaica, and also of a doctor who travels on the ship, who abhors the whole thing and ends up bringing about, although involuntarily, a mutiny on the ship. This book was mind-blowing in revealing to me how the slave trade was considered legal and defensible among the Georgians, and how their entire economy was wound up in it. Some people were beginning to see the vileness of it, and yet how to bring about change? It seemed impossible as all the powerful, influential people depended on it for their wealth and status. It has made me think about things in our society that we take for granted as being reasonable, and that we depend upon, and yet in future will be obviously abhorrent and utterly unacceptable. As Dan and I talked about it we thought that the way we are damaging the planet is probably the thing about which in the future (I hope at least) people will look back and say, "How could they have been so arrogant, so foolish, and so blind?" In a similar way, the people, governments, companies who could bring the necessary changes, have too much to lose. But at some point, the obviousness of the cause, - the truth, in fact-, will become so clear that the necessary sacrifices will have to be made.
A good year in books!
My reading year started with receiving a Kindle for a Christmas present. Having been reluctant to have one, I finally decided, though, that a Kindle might be a good thing. And I do believe that it has led to... more reading! I still read "real" books, borrowed from the local library, or from my brother Mark who reads as much if not more than me, or occasionally bought. And maybe one in three books I read on the kindle.
Kindle books:
I started by reading all three Hunger Games books by Suzanne Collins. I raced through them, quite drawn into that world (another dystopia to add to my collection), wanting to know the outcome. The books are gripping, although I kept asking myself if I really should be reading about teenagers being made to kill each other. A bit dodgy... But now that Alex has read them, I am glad I did first. And we all enjoyed seeing the two films so far.
Another attraction of the kindle is that many older books are free. So I have filled in quite a few gaps in my reading of classics this year. These included Mrs Dalloway by Virginia Wolf - so clever how it segues from one scenario to another as though the reader leaps from one narrator's head into another's; The Bell Jar by Sylvia Plath - a fascinating journey with the suffering narrator, where you get to experience what electric shock therapy is like among other things; The Picture of Dorian Gray by Oscar Wilde (“There is only one thing in the world worse than being talked about, and that is not being talked about.”) - if you haven't read this, I highly recommend it, it is a fabulous story and so beautifully, amusingly written.
Also on Kindle I read Sacred Hearts by Sarah Dunant, which is a historical novel set in a convent in Italy in the 1500s, about a younger daughter who is sent to the convent against her will because of an "unsuitable" romance - living through that captivity with her is eye-opening. Quite an easy read but very evocative.
"Normal" books:
One great non-fiction book I read was The Child that Books Built by Francis Spufford. Since the author grew up reading many of the books that I did, it was such good fun being reminded of them all, but he also analyses them brilliantly to show how they shaped his growing understanding of the world.
Another non-fiction book I adored was Congo Journey by Redmond O'Hanlon. This is a bit like Blood River in that it tracks a somewhat crazy white guy as he makes a sometimes dangerous, always fascinating journey on foot and by boat through the Congo. The author was interested in the wildlife of Congo in particular, giving brief but lovely descriptions of the birds and insects he found; his ultimate goal was to find the Congo dinosaur which was said to inhabit a remote, sacred lake. Whether he found it or not, I'll leave for you to find out... It is an amazing description of the country and the people he travelled with, giving occasional glimpses of the terrible history of the Congo. O'Hanlan entered fearlessly into the culture, drinking palm wine quite wildly with his guides at night, acquiring a fetish to keep himself safe, surviving on foufou, fish and monkey meat... Total immersion. It is a wonderful read.
I also loved The Blue Afternoon by William Boyd, a murder mystery/love story/historical novel which describes 1930s colonial life in a new part of the world to me, the Philippines. The main character is loveable and annoying - but you so want to know how it all works out for him in the end.
I raced through The Snow Child by Eowyn Ivey, set in 1930s Alaska - a very sweet poignant tale of an older couple who long for a child; it reads like a folk story and is based on one - it is a beautiful book.
My two favourite books were Flight Behaviour by Barbara Kingsolver, and Sacred Hunger by Barry Unsworth. Flight Behaviour combines my interest (is that the right word?) in global warming, with the fantastic writing of Barbara Kingsolver who is one of my top authors. It tells of how an invasion of monarch butterflies transforms life for the people of an Appalachian town.
Sacred Hunger is a historical novel set in the 1700s in England, about the slave trade, and human nature. It is told from the point of view of a wealthy merchant who sends off a ship to buy slaves from West Africa and sell them in Jamaica, and also of a doctor who travels on the ship, who abhors the whole thing and ends up bringing about, although involuntarily, a mutiny on the ship. This book was mind-blowing in revealing to me how the slave trade was considered legal and defensible among the Georgians, and how their entire economy was wound up in it. Some people were beginning to see the vileness of it, and yet how to bring about change? It seemed impossible as all the powerful, influential people depended on it for their wealth and status. It has made me think about things in our society that we take for granted as being reasonable, and that we depend upon, and yet in future will be obviously abhorrent and utterly unacceptable. As Dan and I talked about it we thought that the way we are damaging the planet is probably the thing about which in the future (I hope at least) people will look back and say, "How could they have been so arrogant, so foolish, and so blind?" In a similar way, the people, governments, companies who could bring the necessary changes, have too much to lose. But at some point, the obviousness of the cause, - the truth, in fact-, will become so clear that the necessary sacrifices will have to be made.
A good year in books!
Labels:
Book Review,
books,
Congo,
cultures,
Global Warming
Saturday, 7 December 2013
In the presence of greatness. Nelson Mandela RIP.
In December 1998, Dan and I attended some of the World Council of Churches assembly in Harare. Nelson Mandela came to speak at the opening ceremony, and so we were lucky enough to be in the crowd welcoming him in, and then to sit and listen to his address. This is the only photo we got which he actually can be seen in - there were so many people, so much excitement, so much pushing and jostling, shouting and waving.
The height of feeling of the crowd was infectious - they were greeting him as a hero, and like a long-lost family member coming home. A Zimbabwean lady beside us was screeching his name, Madiba Madiba! and waving her programme violently over her head, completely beside herself. In very noticeable contrast to the ecstasy of the crowds, Robert Mugabe walked along beside him solid and stony-faced. This was the year he was beginning to pay his "war veterans" their "pensions," the year when inflation first took off, bread riots began and the first food shortages began to occur.
In his speech Mandela talked about his years in captivity, and about the role of Christians in Africa (very graciously). He also talked about leadership. He looked straight at Mugabe sitting front and centre, when he said, "When I step down from the presidency, I shall ask myself, "Have I served my people?""
Although we only saw him fleetingly, the adjectives that are being used everywhere about him seemed apparent then: gracious, true, uncompromising, humble, joyful. It was the joy he brought to the people that I remember the most.
Monday, 2 December 2013
Alex's picture
Alex was told to make a picture and write an explanation of it answering the question, "Where is God?"
This is his explanation of his picture:
"In my piece of artwork I drew God's hand holding a globe of people. Above was a dove coming down from heaven to protect the people. God holding the people showed that God is in everyone and is always there holding everyone. A dove was coming down from heaven, which represented the hly spirit being in heaven, but also being in everyone, and protecting everyone."
I think that would be a great exercise for everyone to do.
Sunday, 17 November 2013
Soup...
Today in Gloucester it was about 6 degrees, and it's getting colder this week we're told. Soup time... mmm.
Recently we were invited to a "Soup party" by two of our former students. We were asked to bring along an ingredient for soup, so I brought carrots. When we arrived, we found only one other couple were invited, and they brought lentils, so that was lucky. Our hosts made a yummy carrot and lentil soup, followed by a good beef casserole.
We were quite a mixed vegetable soup ourselves: The hosts are a Ugandan husband with a Dutch wife, the other guests were from New Zealand, and Dan and I are of course American and English. We talked about the famous stone soup fable. But we found out something pretty interesting. The version I heard as a schoolgirl went as follows:
Three poor tramps decided that if they combined food they had, they could make a better soup than cooking on their own. So they agreed that each of them would bring a different vegetable the next night and they would boil them up together and make a lovely soup. But the first man thought, "No-one will notice if I just put in a stone..." so he popped a stone into the boiling water. The second man thought the same, so he also dropped a stone into the water. The third man thought the same, so he stealthily placed a stone into the pan of boiling water. The three of them sat there silently drinking the tasteless hot water, none of them wanting admit what they had done. The moral - everyone has to do their bit. If you don't, why should anyone else? Pull your weight or everyone loses out.
But the Kiwis and American Dan had a different version of the tale:
Some travellers come to a village, carrying nothing more than an empty cooking pot. Upon their arrival, the villagers are unwilling to share any of their food stores with the hungry travellers. Then the travellers go to a stream and fill the pot with water, drop a large stone in it, and place it over a fire. One of the villagers becomes curious and asks what they are doing. The travellers answer that they are making "stone soup", which tastes wonderful, although it still needs a little bit of garnishto improve the flavour, which they are missing. The villager does not mind parting with a few carrots to help them out, so that gets added to the soup. Another villager walks by, inquiring about the pot, and the travellers again mention their stone soup which has not reached its full potential yet. The villager hands them a little bit of seasoning to help them out. More and more villagers walk by, each adding another ingredient. Finally, a delicious and nourishing pot of soup is enjoyed by all.
What does this show you about our different cultures?! The British version is the pessimistic, cynical story where everyone ends up losing out and being miserable. The American/Kiwi version is the positive, optimistic one, where everyone does the right thing and the results are fantastic. Hmmm. Interesting...
On the same evening, we were asked to bring a Bible verse for the other guests - we were not told who they would be, but just a rough idea (as in, someone from abroad doing ministry in this country...) The Bible passage that was given to me was absolutely amazing and fabulous, and the exactly perfect passage I needed that week. It was 2 Samuel Chapter 22, about God being our rock, refuge, shield, defender, fortress, saviour... and then there comes a description of when God hears me calling out to him for help, he comes storming out of his heaven like a warrior riding on a flaming dragon, furious at my foes, crushing them and rescuing me... It reminded me that when we talk about "spiritual warfare", we usually think of being under attack by an enemy - but spiritual warfare is this as well - God in all his power going to war against his, our, enemies - and always being the winner.
Saturday, 26 October 2013
Virtual Meets Real - Scary!
Remember when I was left alone in Mukono for three months by my husband...? He went on sabbatical to write his PhD... The first night he had gone, when I was feeling very strange and bereft, I had a facebook message from Dutch friends - do you want to play Settlers on-line tonight? This was amazing, because, they were by then in Mexico, and I was in Uganda - and yet we played a real game of Settlers of Catan, with no delays, on a games website. You can chat to each other in the box at the side, trade cards, move your pieces - it was really great fun, and felt just like being with those great people.
But just for a few minutes, I was on the games website when they had left it - and a "voice" in a box invited me to join another game. I knew that if you didn't have a "real" friend to play with, you also could play with bots, who had names - so I asked this newcomer, "Er, excuse me, but are you a real person - or a bot?" "Haha I'm real, I'm ... from Holland." I was outta there! I didn't even reply!
That was ages ago, but last week something else funny happened, where virtual became real. I was making some favourites list, of books set in Africa, on Goodreads. I gave five stars to "Blood River" by Tim Butcher, and to "Dance with the Devil" also by him. Two minutes later, an email appeared in my inbox - from Tim Butcher! I opened it thinking it was some automated reply - but it really was an email from Tim Butcher, thanking me for giving his books a high rating, and saying how, as a relatively new author, he is still thrilled to get reader feed-back. I was so excited to get his email! I wrote back saying that I had truly loved his books and had recommended them to zillions of people. But I didn't tell him I had reviewed his book on my blog - because it suddenly felt like I had been over-enthusiastic and maybe even a bit gushy! If I had know Tim Butcher was going to read my review, I might have written it a bit differently! Now he might read this. Oh dear!
Then again, a while ago I had written a blog about my two years in Zambia at a girls school. Well, this week I got an email out of the blue, from a former pupil of Mukinge, not from my time there - but she said she read my blog about the school and just appreciated me going there and shared happy memories of that school. It was really lovely to hear from her. We both ended our emails, "God bless you." That's a good outcome of blogging, right - connecting with someone and sharing good memories and some encouragement.
It's just that when virtual proves to be real after all, it is unnerving. It's probably important for us to realise that. We are seeing young people getting into all kinds of trouble because of not realising that. We are seeing people saying terrible things about other people on Twitter - perhaps because they don't quite realise that - would they say that thing to or about the person if they were standing right in front of them?
Strange new world we live in.
But just for a few minutes, I was on the games website when they had left it - and a "voice" in a box invited me to join another game. I knew that if you didn't have a "real" friend to play with, you also could play with bots, who had names - so I asked this newcomer, "Er, excuse me, but are you a real person - or a bot?" "Haha I'm real, I'm ... from Holland." I was outta there! I didn't even reply!
That was ages ago, but last week something else funny happened, where virtual became real. I was making some favourites list, of books set in Africa, on Goodreads. I gave five stars to "Blood River" by Tim Butcher, and to "Dance with the Devil" also by him. Two minutes later, an email appeared in my inbox - from Tim Butcher! I opened it thinking it was some automated reply - but it really was an email from Tim Butcher, thanking me for giving his books a high rating, and saying how, as a relatively new author, he is still thrilled to get reader feed-back. I was so excited to get his email! I wrote back saying that I had truly loved his books and had recommended them to zillions of people. But I didn't tell him I had reviewed his book on my blog - because it suddenly felt like I had been over-enthusiastic and maybe even a bit gushy! If I had know Tim Butcher was going to read my review, I might have written it a bit differently! Now he might read this. Oh dear!
Then again, a while ago I had written a blog about my two years in Zambia at a girls school. Well, this week I got an email out of the blue, from a former pupil of Mukinge, not from my time there - but she said she read my blog about the school and just appreciated me going there and shared happy memories of that school. It was really lovely to hear from her. We both ended our emails, "God bless you." That's a good outcome of blogging, right - connecting with someone and sharing good memories and some encouragement.
It's just that when virtual proves to be real after all, it is unnerving. It's probably important for us to realise that. We are seeing young people getting into all kinds of trouble because of not realising that. We are seeing people saying terrible things about other people on Twitter - perhaps because they don't quite realise that - would they say that thing to or about the person if they were standing right in front of them?
Strange new world we live in.
Wednesday, 23 October 2013
Days getting shorter
I am on holiday for a whole week while Abby and Alex are at school! Not that they are happy about it... But it has given me time to get my eyes checked, my hair cut, a bit of shopping done, cleaning done, and today, a beautiful walk with the Noggin (the dog).
I am still quite besotted with Frodo. And with the English countryside. And with sunshine...
As the days being to shorten, I am clingin onto any chances to be outside and not wet/freezing. I have enjoyed the apples, the blackberries, the leaves changing colour, and the chance to put on boots and scarves again. I have also welcomed back the TV programmes that come on in the autumn. I am trying to be glad of the change of seasons... to enjoy how they mark out our year and complement each other and give us a chance to see new things, to see the cycle of life...
But really, I would like it to be spring and then summer all year round. OK, a sunny autumn like this one is actually fine, even lovely. But, I don't want the Winter!!! I am dreading the dark, cold afternoons.
Perhaps I need to learn to live each day in all its beauty, and not think ahead so much to what is coming. And this autumn is really beautiful.
Sunday, 13 October 2013
Andrew Marr, Art, and Life...
He is a pretty good artist, but art is not his thing-he-is-famous-for, and the pictures he showed us, which appear in his book, were a mixture of brilliant and, fairly ordinary. But he said a few interesting things along the way, one of which was that he draws three or four times a week, and finds it beneficial, because we all need to spend time "praising the world around us." He went on to say that for him, drawing is probably like praying - not being "a religious man," as he put it. He also said that doing art makes you look at things more, and see things better - which I completely agree with. When I started trying to paint clouds, I suddenly looked at clouds in a lot more detail - where are the shadows, where are the edges - can you call them edges? ... how much grey is there, how many different greys... and other colours? (as Vermeer points out to the Girl in the Pearl Earring...)
I have not managed to do any art for over a year. The last thing I painted was a daffodil, in spring 2012. And it wasn't very good.
But Andrew Marr's talk inspired me to get back to it. He is right that doing art is therapeutic. It makes me enjoy the world around me more. It engrosses me in the right side of the brain, the creative side, which is fun, and gives me a break from thinking about other things. Making art, even if it is not very good art, is satisfying. We have a natural desire to be making things, all of us do. Some of us write, or cook, or sew, or garden, or play music, but it is all a way of making things. The children in my library make new pictures everyday and want me to stick them up - I already have pictures on top of pictures on the notice board! Here are the bird pictures I painted today (with a thank you to Madeleine Floyd whose style I copied to help me get started...)
Labels:
Andrew Marr,
Art,
Cheltenham Literature Festival,
Creativity
Thursday, 3 October 2013
The dire worries of young children
So I am adjusting to a whole new ball-game now, working with children aged 7 to 13. It is mainly great fun, and the children are mainly endearing, ultra enthusiastic, and funny. And it is enlightening as well.
Two incidents yesterday in school made me realise a couple of things:
Firstly, I get totally involved in how other people are feeling, and really feel it with them. This is because I have a very high something or other in my DISC Personality Profile, which makes me empathetic - trouble is, I sometimes feel things way more strongly than the actual feeler of the thing does. And, they often get over it and move on while I am still feeling bad for them.
These were the incidents:
A girl came up to me after lunch, right up to my side and took hold of my arm, her face all scrunched up, and said "... something bad... I had to carry my timetable round with me everywhere so I took it to lunch and put it on my tray and then I handed the tray into the dishwashers and left it on there, and now it's lost, and the teacher can get very cross..." Since it was her individual timetable for her special lessons, she couldn't get a copy from a friend. She was afraid of getting into trouble and wanted me to go into the dishwashing area and try to rescue the timetable! I actually did not consider doing that, but I did offer to as the teacher on her behalf, but she said she would just be brave and tell her...
Later a class came into the library, and a nine year old boy was in trouble with the English teacher for not having a "reading book" - so she asked me to help him pick one - mouthing to me "Very Low Ability!" So the boy looked at a few easy books but then lit upon the Anthony Horowitz series which his friends are reading - I told him it was too hard for him, but he said "Just because I can't spell very well, but I can read, and all my friends are reading these..." But when the English teacher saw him with it, she rounded on him and said, "That is way too hard for you, we've talked about this before, choose a MUCH easier book" - and I felt terrible for him, wanting to read the cooler book - and not being allowed to try it, but then again the teacher probably knows he won't be able to, which made me feel sad for him, stuck with the stupid books for younger kids... He picked out a Michael Morpurgo, but then his music teacher came to fetch him and he left his book behind in the Library! So now, he is probably in trouble again with the English teacher! And he probably doesn't feel as bad as I do that he can't read Anthony Horowitz.
Another thing I realised is that the feelings of worry (for the girl) or frustration and unfairness (for the boy) were so huge and real in the moment, but for me as the adult I could see, when I wasn't caught up in my empathising, that there was nothing to worry about: the teacher might be a bit cross momentarily, but would give the girl a new timetable, and the boy might have to wait for now but there are years ahead for him to read all the great books. I am sure that the worries I have, bad as they seem to me at the time, look to God as the children's worries look to an adult. If only I could step back and see things from God's higher, bigger, wider perspective - my things would be suddenly so small, so insignificant, it would be such a relief.
Two incidents yesterday in school made me realise a couple of things:
Firstly, I get totally involved in how other people are feeling, and really feel it with them. This is because I have a very high something or other in my DISC Personality Profile, which makes me empathetic - trouble is, I sometimes feel things way more strongly than the actual feeler of the thing does. And, they often get over it and move on while I am still feeling bad for them.
These were the incidents:
A girl came up to me after lunch, right up to my side and took hold of my arm, her face all scrunched up, and said "... something bad... I had to carry my timetable round with me everywhere so I took it to lunch and put it on my tray and then I handed the tray into the dishwashers and left it on there, and now it's lost, and the teacher can get very cross..." Since it was her individual timetable for her special lessons, she couldn't get a copy from a friend. She was afraid of getting into trouble and wanted me to go into the dishwashing area and try to rescue the timetable! I actually did not consider doing that, but I did offer to as the teacher on her behalf, but she said she would just be brave and tell her...
Later a class came into the library, and a nine year old boy was in trouble with the English teacher for not having a "reading book" - so she asked me to help him pick one - mouthing to me "Very Low Ability!" So the boy looked at a few easy books but then lit upon the Anthony Horowitz series which his friends are reading - I told him it was too hard for him, but he said "Just because I can't spell very well, but I can read, and all my friends are reading these..." But when the English teacher saw him with it, she rounded on him and said, "That is way too hard for you, we've talked about this before, choose a MUCH easier book" - and I felt terrible for him, wanting to read the cooler book - and not being allowed to try it, but then again the teacher probably knows he won't be able to, which made me feel sad for him, stuck with the stupid books for younger kids... He picked out a Michael Morpurgo, but then his music teacher came to fetch him and he left his book behind in the Library! So now, he is probably in trouble again with the English teacher! And he probably doesn't feel as bad as I do that he can't read Anthony Horowitz.
Another thing I realised is that the feelings of worry (for the girl) or frustration and unfairness (for the boy) were so huge and real in the moment, but for me as the adult I could see, when I wasn't caught up in my empathising, that there was nothing to worry about: the teacher might be a bit cross momentarily, but would give the girl a new timetable, and the boy might have to wait for now but there are years ahead for him to read all the great books. I am sure that the worries I have, bad as they seem to me at the time, look to God as the children's worries look to an adult. If only I could step back and see things from God's higher, bigger, wider perspective - my things would be suddenly so small, so insignificant, it would be such a relief.
Saturday, 21 September 2013
Just Shopping
When we moved back to England two years ago, I was keen to become an ethical shopper. Using farmers' markets, and seasonal eating, were two of my goals. But I soon found out that farmers' markets are really expensive. And, the children won't tolerate eating root vegetables all winter. They want peas and beans, and they won't eat cabbage or leeks. So, it is not easy.
The questions that compete for my attention and exhaust me, when I do the weekly shop include:
is this locally produced?
if not how far away is it from?
if it is from the developing world, is it fair traded?
is it cheap/reasonable?
is it on special offer?
is it packed in too much packaging?
is the glass bottle more environmentally friendly than the plastic one, given that both can be recycled?
if it is an animal product, was the animal well-treated?
is it healthy?
does it contain natural ingredients?
is the two for one deal really money-saving? If so, can we eat two of these packs before they go off (if not, you have just wasted stuff)
is the larger size really more economical than the smaller size, and if so ditto to the above - can we use that much before it goes off?
I end up weighing these factors against each other - so for example, I will buy the New Zealand lamb over the British, if it is on special offer - and I'll buy the yoghurts with loads of plastic wrapping, if the two for one deal is on - yes, money does usually end up winning the day.
Trouble is, I want to be an ethical shopper. But, it just costs more. And I feel as though I should be spending less on our food, not more. Aren't we meant to be good stewards of our money? And isn't it wrong to spend more money than necessary on food when other people are going hungry? But then again, I want to be good to the environment, not see food-producers exploited, and eat healthy food, and not eat chickens that lived in a battery, and so on. This is why I say, it is murky!
In our home group discussion on this subject last week, we also learned some surprising facts that threw more spanners into the works. For example, New Zealand lamb actually has less of a carbon footprint than British in spite of the long journey to get here - because British lamb has had more energy spent on feeding and raising it in our cold climate. So one of my food lynch-pins - "local is best" turns out not to be true. But on the other hand, British farmers need all the support they can get, so maybe it is true. But on the other hand, if we all stopped eating NZ lamb, would that damage their livelihood? Which is more important, the carbon footprint of the food, or the livelihood of the British farmers? Or the NZ farmers? Help!
Our conclusion as a group was, there is no set of clear principals, but, it is all just - murky.
We did agree that in spite of all of us being on a tight budget, we should be prepared to spend more money on some things, and in particular, our meat - buying it from local butchers, and so maybe we will eat less of it, but, it will be healthier. And we should eat seasonally - meaning that local vegetables bought when they are in season, are bound to be the healthiest and cheapest option. And, there is nothing wrong with having some frozen peas in the freezer! And, buying tea from India is fine but it should be fair traded, because we can't grow it here. But just because something says it is fair trade does not mean that it always is - so, we should try to be up on these things.
Shopping ethically is unfortunately complicated, more expensive, and more time-consuming. But for the sake of the planet, justice, and our own health, it is worth it. So, we should try.
The questions that compete for my attention and exhaust me, when I do the weekly shop include:
is this locally produced?
if not how far away is it from?
if it is from the developing world, is it fair traded?
is it cheap/reasonable?
is it on special offer?
is it packed in too much packaging?
is the glass bottle more environmentally friendly than the plastic one, given that both can be recycled?
if it is an animal product, was the animal well-treated?
is it healthy?
does it contain natural ingredients?
is the two for one deal really money-saving? If so, can we eat two of these packs before they go off (if not, you have just wasted stuff)
is the larger size really more economical than the smaller size, and if so ditto to the above - can we use that much before it goes off?
I end up weighing these factors against each other - so for example, I will buy the New Zealand lamb over the British, if it is on special offer - and I'll buy the yoghurts with loads of plastic wrapping, if the two for one deal is on - yes, money does usually end up winning the day.
Trouble is, I want to be an ethical shopper. But, it just costs more. And I feel as though I should be spending less on our food, not more. Aren't we meant to be good stewards of our money? And isn't it wrong to spend more money than necessary on food when other people are going hungry? But then again, I want to be good to the environment, not see food-producers exploited, and eat healthy food, and not eat chickens that lived in a battery, and so on. This is why I say, it is murky!
In our home group discussion on this subject last week, we also learned some surprising facts that threw more spanners into the works. For example, New Zealand lamb actually has less of a carbon footprint than British in spite of the long journey to get here - because British lamb has had more energy spent on feeding and raising it in our cold climate. So one of my food lynch-pins - "local is best" turns out not to be true. But on the other hand, British farmers need all the support they can get, so maybe it is true. But on the other hand, if we all stopped eating NZ lamb, would that damage their livelihood? Which is more important, the carbon footprint of the food, or the livelihood of the British farmers? Or the NZ farmers? Help!
Our conclusion as a group was, there is no set of clear principals, but, it is all just - murky.
We did agree that in spite of all of us being on a tight budget, we should be prepared to spend more money on some things, and in particular, our meat - buying it from local butchers, and so maybe we will eat less of it, but, it will be healthier. And we should eat seasonally - meaning that local vegetables bought when they are in season, are bound to be the healthiest and cheapest option. And, there is nothing wrong with having some frozen peas in the freezer! And, buying tea from India is fine but it should be fair traded, because we can't grow it here. But just because something says it is fair trade does not mean that it always is - so, we should try to be up on these things.
Shopping ethically is unfortunately complicated, more expensive, and more time-consuming. But for the sake of the planet, justice, and our own health, it is worth it. So, we should try.
Saturday, 14 September 2013
Highlights of my first two weeks
After almost two weeks working as a new prep school librarian, I thought I would write about the highlights so far. I won't use the children's names, but that is definitely one of the highlights - beginning to know the children by name - and every day another two or three become "real people," not just faces in a crowd.
The children have so far been so friendly, and very chatty, and helpful. So I have a gang of little boys who come in every break and every lunch, and tell me if they can't make it because of a music lesson or something. Then a few girls who come almost every day, have a little chat, read a bit, and then go away again. Two little girls just throw themselves on the bean bags in the corner and read busily all lunchtime - in another world.
I have to choose Library Monitors, so I have asked those who are interested to write me an "application" letter. The three boys who are utterly determined to do it, have already chosen what colour monitor badge they will wear - on a Star Trek theme! So I will get the yellow badge, as "Captain Button", and two of them will have blue badges ("Medical"), and the rest will have red badges ("Security"). Of course, they are the newest breed of Star Trek fans, only knowing the new series of films with Chris Pines and co - whereas I am a long-in-the-tooth fan of the original series! So anyway we are all happy!
I put up a competition this week, to make the most words out of the letters R E A D - and several children ran away with it and loved doing it - I gave the winners mini erasers as prizes.
Putting things up on the display boards - two library posters made by children in a lunchtime for example - is fun, and, getting the books in order and all covered etc is satisfying.
The children have so far been so friendly, and very chatty, and helpful. So I have a gang of little boys who come in every break and every lunch, and tell me if they can't make it because of a music lesson or something. Then a few girls who come almost every day, have a little chat, read a bit, and then go away again. Two little girls just throw themselves on the bean bags in the corner and read busily all lunchtime - in another world.
I have to choose Library Monitors, so I have asked those who are interested to write me an "application" letter. The three boys who are utterly determined to do it, have already chosen what colour monitor badge they will wear - on a Star Trek theme! So I will get the yellow badge, as "Captain Button", and two of them will have blue badges ("Medical"), and the rest will have red badges ("Security"). Of course, they are the newest breed of Star Trek fans, only knowing the new series of films with Chris Pines and co - whereas I am a long-in-the-tooth fan of the original series! So anyway we are all happy!
I put up a competition this week, to make the most words out of the letters R E A D - and several children ran away with it and loved doing it - I gave the winners mini erasers as prizes.
Putting things up on the display boards - two library posters made by children in a lunchtime for example - is fun, and, getting the books in order and all covered etc is satisfying.
We had a Roald Dahl quiz on Friday as it was Roald Dahl Day - his birthday was 13th September. His children's books are still hard to beat.
I think I am going to enjoy this job in many ways. And the other staff have been friendly and welcoming, and seem really nice. There is always tea, coffee and biscuits in the staff common room. And I get free lunch!
Saturday, 7 September 2013
My Favourite Children's Books
Now that I'm a school librarian... I thought I should list my ten favourite children's books - that is, the books I loved most as a child. If I do it nicely, I can print it out and put it up in my new library! For most of them I have found images of the covers of my actual copies, rather than more modern covers.
1. Harry the Dirty Dog by Gene Zion - a dog who started out white with black spots, and ended up black with white spots - so even his mistress didn't recognise him. The story ends with a glorious bubble bath. Being known is better fun than being filthy!
2. Diana and her Rhinoceros by Edward Ardizzone - my goodness I made my parents read this story SO MANY TIMES! A young girl befriends a rhinoceros who escaped from the zoo, treats its nasty cold, and feeds it toast made in front of the fire. When the zoo keepers come with long guns, she fends them off and manages to keep her unusual pet... To this day, a ghostly Edwardian lady walks the streets of London with her huge companion at her side...
3. Finn Family Moomintroll by Tove Jansson.
This is the first of a whole set of books that I adored. The main character is a short, round, amiable troll-person, called Moomintroll, and his friends are Snufkin and Sniff. There is Moominmama and Moominpapa, and a beautiful but sad creature called the Snork Maiden, the strange Hattifatteners, and many more. Moomintroll gets up to adventures and makes strange and fascinating friends along the way. Endearing and magical. I could read them all again right now...
4. Green Smoke by Rosemary Manning.
This book tells of a young girl who goes on holiday with her parents to a Cornish beach, and one day hears a loud sneeze coming from a cave. The sneezer turns out to be a dragon - fortunately a friendly talkative one. The dragon tells the girl wonderful stories, and takes her on some magical journeys, including a visit to a mermaid. How I wanted to have that dragon for a friend!
5. The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe by CS Lewis. I lapped up this whole set of books, adoring each one in turn, relishing the winning mixture of adventure, talking animals, magic, siblings, the awe and love surrounding Aslan, the underlying tenet that good is strong and powerful. I knew Narnia must be a real place, and that even though I most likely wouldn't find my own magic wardrobe door or living painting, I would eventually go there...
6. My Family and other Animals by Gerald Durrell. I read lots of Gerald Durrell's books, mostly about his life of collecting rare animals to bring back to his zoo to study and to help preserve their species. I loved how he arrived in an exotic location with a "shopping list" of animals, and the often hilarious accounts of how he tracked down and captured them, with the help or hindrance of local people. But My Family and Other Animals is about his childhood on a Greek island, and is as much about his whacky family and friends as about animals - and very funny.
7. King Arthur and His Knights of the Round Table by Roger Lancelyn Green. I read and re-read these stories. I greatly admired the knights, each riding off to do noble deeds and save lives, even if it meant sacrificing themselves. And I so felt the sorrow of Lancelot who loved Guinevere even though he shouldn't, and of Arthur whose beautiful wife loved Lancelot.
8. Black Beauty by Anna Sewell. The story of this loyal, faithful, and strong horse, who was friend and companion to a succession of fellow-horses and humans, contains so much sadness, and yet I loved it. Maybe I loved the fact that he survived it all and in the end was reunited with his beloved owner and given a peaceful retirement in a green field...
9. The Lord of the Rings, by JRR Tolkein. Probably don't need to say anything about this wonderful trilogy. But, suffice to say, when I first read these books as a young teenager, at the end I turned straight from the last page of book three, to the first page of book one, and read it through all over again.
10. The Little White Horse, by Elizabeth Goudge. This remains my favourite children's book ever; I re-read it several times through my teenage years, and took it to Zambia in my twenties. Everything about the story: the hero Maria, her little dog, her governess, her new home in a castle, her valley, her pony, her church, her friend Robin, and then the adventures that followed, charmed me and drew me into another world where friendship and courage mattered, where bad things happened but could be overcome, where mysterious creatures had been sent to be by your side and guide you, where magical moments do happen which prove you are special. A perfect world.
Saturday, 31 August 2013
Blackberry-picking by Seamus Heaney
Blackberry-Picking
Late August, given heavy rain and sun
For a full week, the blackberries would ripen.
At first, just one, a glossy purple clot
Among others, red, green, hard as a knot.
You ate that first one and its flesh was sweet
Like thickened wine: summer's blood was in it
Leaving stains upon the tongue and lust for
Picking. Then red ones inked up and that hunger
Sent us out with milk cans, pea tins, jam-pots
Where briars scratched and wet grass bleached our boots.
Round hayfields, cornfields and potato-drills
We trekked and picked until the cans were full
Until the tinkling bottom had been covered
With green ones, and on top big dark blobs burned
Like a plate of eyes. Our hands were peppered
With thorn pricks, our palms sticky as Bluebeard's.
We hoarded the fresh berries in the byre.
But when the bath was filled we found a fur,
A rat-grey fungus, glutting on our cache.
The juice was stinking too. Once off the bush
The fruit fermented, the sweet flesh would turn sour.
I always felt like crying. It wasn't fair
That all the lovely canfuls smelt of rot.
Each year I hoped they'd keep, knew they would not.
For a full week, the blackberries would ripen.
At first, just one, a glossy purple clot
Among others, red, green, hard as a knot.
You ate that first one and its flesh was sweet
Like thickened wine: summer's blood was in it
Leaving stains upon the tongue and lust for
Picking. Then red ones inked up and that hunger
Sent us out with milk cans, pea tins, jam-pots
Where briars scratched and wet grass bleached our boots.
Round hayfields, cornfields and potato-drills
We trekked and picked until the cans were full
Until the tinkling bottom had been covered
With green ones, and on top big dark blobs burned
Like a plate of eyes. Our hands were peppered
With thorn pricks, our palms sticky as Bluebeard's.
We hoarded the fresh berries in the byre.
But when the bath was filled we found a fur,
A rat-grey fungus, glutting on our cache.
The juice was stinking too. Once off the bush
The fruit fermented, the sweet flesh would turn sour.
I always felt like crying. It wasn't fair
That all the lovely canfuls smelt of rot.
Each year I hoped they'd keep, knew they would not.
Seamus Heaney
"Hope for a great sea-change..."
Much-loved British poet Seamus Heaney died this week. Several people posted this poem on their facebook walls:
From Seamus Heaney:
History says, Don't hope
on this side of the grave.
But then, once in a lifetime
the longed for tidal wave
of justice can rise up,
and hope and history rhyme.
So hope for a great sea-change
on the far side of revenge.
Believe that a further shore
is reachable from here.
Believe in miracles
and cures and healing wells.
I love how he acknowledges that as well as justice there will be cures, and healing. I have come to see that hope is really the thing that keeps us going, gives us the will to keep on at this challenge of life.
Light at the end of the tunnel, the glimpse of the rope dangling down into the dark, only two more essays to mark, three more days till the holidays, five more days till next weekend, Spring will come after Winter, calm will follow the storm, justice will come in the end, God will bring it all together, there will be a renewed heaven and earth, Jesus will reign.
From Seamus Heaney:
History says, Don't hope
on this side of the grave.
But then, once in a lifetime
the longed for tidal wave
of justice can rise up,
and hope and history rhyme.
So hope for a great sea-change
on the far side of revenge.
Believe that a further shore
is reachable from here.
Believe in miracles
and cures and healing wells.
I love how he acknowledges that as well as justice there will be cures, and healing. I have come to see that hope is really the thing that keeps us going, gives us the will to keep on at this challenge of life.
Light at the end of the tunnel, the glimpse of the rope dangling down into the dark, only two more essays to mark, three more days till the holidays, five more days till next weekend, Spring will come after Winter, calm will follow the storm, justice will come in the end, God will bring it all together, there will be a renewed heaven and earth, Jesus will reign.
Thursday, 8 August 2013
Mum to Frodo - friend or foe? By Abby
I think we've all heard just how much Mum loves Frodo. A lot. But when he wags his tail for her, or follows her round the house is it just because he's hoping that she'll go soft and give him a treat? or that she'll take him out on a walk by the river where he can run away from us and make me chase him barefooted for half an hour (as was the case one evening)? I don't know. Lets have a look at the facts and figures of the matter.
1. Mum gives him endless hugs, cuddles and kisses, but just because he gives me a long, pleading look over her shoulder when she lifts him up onto her lap, or gives out a huge, heavy sigh when she squeezes him tight, does that mean that he doesn't like it?
See what i mean? PROOF.
2. I know Frodo howls when I play the piano, but (I hope) it's not because of my playing. However, I wonder if he thinks mum is just downright CRAZY when she takes his paws in her hands, and dances round the kitchen with him singing:
"Oh, Frodo how I love you!
Frodo I love you sooo....."
We all have the occasional sing-song in Frodo's favor, but I think mum just beats us all.
3. I have so far stated some facts, but now lets talk figures. As I'm sure you all know, Mum has been doing this 1000 gifts thing. But, I doubt she's mentioned just how many of her 620 (so far) gifts are about Frodo: 30. It might not seem much, but it means that 20 percent of her gifts are about Frodo. (blame the internets calculator if that's wrong). some of which are:
4. One of the things she wrote was "the fun of clipping Frodo." I have to admit it was funny, and you'll probably laugh too when I tell you that Mum cut the end of Frodo's ear with scissors - producing a high pitched YELP!!! - and also gave him a big bald patch on his back.
Mum wrote it as a gift, but I don't think it was to him. While Mum was cackling away brandishing her implements of torture, Frodo was hanging his head gloomily, thinking "what have i done to deserve this...?"
And this is a picture of what he looked like when Mum was through with him. He looks like a scrawny victim to some terrible torture, or a "mangy hyena" as Dad called him.
5. Mum's walks can't really compare with Dad's long romps in the park and endless late-night strolls through the streets, whatever the weather, and hers include:
So, even though Mum loves him with all her heart, gives him treats and would probably let him get away with murder (which actually DID happen, when he killed our friends' guinea pig when we had lunch with them - he was VERY pleased with himself, we're embarrassed to say) when she asks him faithfully "Frodo, do you love me best in all the world?" what do you think he's saying to himself? You decide...
1. Mum gives him endless hugs, cuddles and kisses, but just because he gives me a long, pleading look over her shoulder when she lifts him up onto her lap, or gives out a huge, heavy sigh when she squeezes him tight, does that mean that he doesn't like it?
See what i mean? PROOF.
2. I know Frodo howls when I play the piano, but (I hope) it's not because of my playing. However, I wonder if he thinks mum is just downright CRAZY when she takes his paws in her hands, and dances round the kitchen with him singing:
"Oh, Frodo how I love you!
Frodo I love you sooo....."
We all have the occasional sing-song in Frodo's favor, but I think mum just beats us all.
3. I have so far stated some facts, but now lets talk figures. As I'm sure you all know, Mum has been doing this 1000 gifts thing. But, I doubt she's mentioned just how many of her 620 (so far) gifts are about Frodo: 30. It might not seem much, but it means that 20 percent of her gifts are about Frodo. (blame the internets calculator if that's wrong). some of which are:
- Frodo's waggy-waggy tail
- Frodo's fluffiness
- cuddling Frodo
- the fun of clipping Frodo
- and just "Frodo" in general.
4. One of the things she wrote was "the fun of clipping Frodo." I have to admit it was funny, and you'll probably laugh too when I tell you that Mum cut the end of Frodo's ear with scissors - producing a high pitched YELP!!! - and also gave him a big bald patch on his back.
Mum wrote it as a gift, but I don't think it was to him. While Mum was cackling away brandishing her implements of torture, Frodo was hanging his head gloomily, thinking "what have i done to deserve this...?"
And this is a picture of what he looked like when Mum was through with him. He looks like a scrawny victim to some terrible torture, or a "mangy hyena" as Dad called him.
5. Mum's walks can't really compare with Dad's long romps in the park and endless late-night strolls through the streets, whatever the weather, and hers include:
- Sometimes not letting him off the lead (which is probably why he took his opportunity to make a break for it at the riverside walk)
- NOT taking him places at night
- NOT enjoying going out in the rain
- NOT liking to take him to Armscroft park where all the big dogs are
- and finally, not paying attention and trying to drag him with all her strength when he's squatted down to do his business (which resulted in me yelling out, and Mum finding a very confused dog desperately waddling at the end of the lead.)
So, even though Mum loves him with all her heart, gives him treats and would probably let him get away with murder (which actually DID happen, when he killed our friends' guinea pig when we had lunch with them - he was VERY pleased with himself, we're embarrassed to say) when she asks him faithfully "Frodo, do you love me best in all the world?" what do you think he's saying to himself? You decide...
Packing
The legacy of living the ex-pat life for 18 years, is not only a mountain of emotional baggage in general, but, quite a heap of emotional baggage about packing. Any person who has travelled extensively has their own list of funny and/or infuriating stories about airports, luggage check-ins, excess baggage etc.
I came to hate packing over the years. I even came to fear it. The amount of stuff just does not fit. Especially returning after a Christmas trip home, when people have given you so many lovely presents. Or after a long leave when you stock up on food items or something like... a kettle, or... rollerblades. Especially when you are flying on a British airline and have only 23 kilos luggage allowance. And when someone said you could bring a baby car-seat, a computer bag and a handluggage bag, and the officials tell you, they want to weigh it all because it looks so much. And it is far too much and then you either have to pay several hundred pounds or leave stuff behind.
Now, packing is simple - we just go to Cornwall for a week, or away for a long weekend - but, the reluctance, the actual hatred of packing is still there. I wonder how long it will stick around. Ugh. I'd better get started.
Monday, 5 August 2013
Castles in the air
We have had a crazy few days in Northumberland, visiting a part of England none of us really knew before. We were staying with a friend, who kindly gave us use of their house for our holiday. It was only five days altogether, but with the journey each way taking the whole day, we had three days only to see everything - so we basically made six day trips in the space of the three days, and went out each evening as well. I have been reminded that while my idea of a holiday is to relax in a beautiful place, eat well, and see some of the local sights, (without stretching yourself) Dan's idea is to rest for not one single moment, but to go go go go go and see everything there is to be seen, and eat if there's time on the way...
If I show you in pictures what we saw, you will get an idea of the amount of ground we covered...
Northumberland is the north east corner of England, with huge sandy beaches, rolling farmland, moorland including the Pennines, Hadrian's Wall built by the Romans to keep the Scottish hordes out, and many many castles, built over the centuries to protect this exposed coastline from the Scots, the Vikings, and the French in turn... It has so much going for it, including the lovely seafood literally jumping out of the sea into your frying pan (lobsters, kippers, prawns, salmon and much more). Its islands have some of England's beautiful but rare wildlife: seals and puffins. You will know how excited I was to see them, the puffins especially.
A medieval gateway in Alnwick - the road drives right under it. |
Alnwick Castle, home of the Nevilles if you read Tudor historical fiction! Also used as Hogwarts ... |
Lindisfarne Castle - built by Henry VIII to protect the coast from French and Scottish invaders. |
Bamborough Castle, a Norman castle right above the beach. |
a chance to swim in the sea. |
A boat trip to see the puffins, at Coquet Island off Amble. Frodo was allowed on the boat and found his sea legs!! |
A puffin??!!! |
Our photos were hopeless, so this one is from Google... but they really do look like this, they are beautiful and funny! |
Our family at Hadrian's Wall, including Canis Canis Frodoensis. |
Frodo visiting Durham Cathedral. |
Durham |
A medieval street in York. With quite a few tourists in it... |
... and a ghost |
Labels:
England,
English history,
family,
nature,
Northumberland
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