Thank you, D, it has inspired a perfect day.
Sunday, November 29, 2009
Tuesday, November 17, 2009
The postman rang twice
Since arriving home, I have had two special mail deliveries. The first was a replacement for the faulty potato ricer that I grumbled about earlier. Thank you, Jacqueline of Oxo Good Grips, for your courteous handling of the problem. I look forward to trying out the new potato ricer later today.
The second delivery was a lovely box and how I love boxes!
Inside, some beautifully wrapped.....
???
These handsome Russian soldiers and charming little babushka dolls.
Thank you, Rattling On, they will grace my Christmas tree and I am sure a certain little granddaughter will be delighted.
Monday, November 16, 2009
Scorchio to drenchio
We left the blue skies and heat of Spain and two hours later we were in
wet and windy England.
Thank you for all the good wishes. We had a much-needed break in south-east Spain, where we found absolute peace and quiet with sunshine as a bonus. We stayed at a friend's holiday apartment which is in a complex of 2000 apartments in Murcia. I am sure it is very busy in the summertime but we only saw 10 other people during the whole of our visit.
Since getting home, the internet connection has been very erratic, probably something to do with the fierce storms. So I will just post a few photos of our holiday and catch up with your blogs when the wind drops and normal service is resumed.
We had the use of two apartments, owned by our friend. We lived in the one on the ground floor, with this on our doorstep:
and we used the roof garden of the other apartment to look out on the semi-desert area that is being developed as a golf course:
Murcia is one of the least developed areas of Spain, almost unknown to tourists. It would be wrong of me to judge from a short off-season visit, but this golf resort development appears to have been hit by the recession or to be too isolated to attract investment. Perhaps it will all come to life next summer and the bar, restaurant and shops will be full of holiday makers. The vast emptiness and tranquillity suited me very well:
the central market place with its magnificent central pool and empty shops
the bar/restaurant was open but we were not tempted to dine in splendid isolation among yet more empty buildings.
Fortunately, the supermarket had a good supply of local vegetables and we lived, much as we do here in the summer, on salads and vegetable stews.
There are places of great historic interest in the region, in particular Cartagena, where we could have spent many days visiting the museums and archaeological sites but this was a few days for R&R, so we limited ourselves to the lovely harbour area:
where we saw a boat that definitely had our name on it!
We also spent a few hours in the city, which is also called Murcia. We visited the cathedral, which has a grand frontage but is very simple and prayerful inside, unlike the almost overpowering splendour of the cathedrals in other parts of Spain:
Not a touristy holiday, then but I managed to read 5 books and to complete 2 more scarves, so I feel rested and very pleased with my achievement - more of which anon.
Tuesday, November 03, 2009
Hasta luego!
The MM and I are off for a few days of sunshine and relaxation. Back soon with photos, if I can remember where I have left the camera and without pictures if I can't.
Sunday, November 01, 2009
Rumpeta, rumpeta
The very best children's books are those that everyone enjoys, from baby to great grandma. Phrases from them are absorbed and become part of a family's shared experience, triggering laughter that cannot be explained to anyone outside the magic circle of that particular memory.
One of our family favourites is The Elephant and the Bad Baby by Elfrida Vipont, with wonderful illustrations by Raymond Briggs. My children loved it when they were small and we all still pick up on anyone in a restaurant, shop or on TV who fails to ask politely for anything by chorusing, "But you haven't once said please! You haven't ONCE said please!" Now it is granddaughter Millie's turn to love the book. She doesn't understand about manners yet but she loves rumpeta, rumpeta, rumpeta all down the road, joining in with gusto as I turn the pages.
I know that Millie will go on to find more and more to interest and amuse her in the illustrations and that sooner or later she will think the Baby is naughty and then begin to wonder about the morality of the Elephant. (I have a feeling that this book might be responsible for the increase in interest in philosophy among young people, since 1967.)
A few years ago, I was asked to speak at a conference of clergy and catechists. There were about 120 of them, from all over the south west of England. They had come, I'm sure, to enjoy a peaceful weekend in sunny North Devon, only to find the worst freak storm in years.
I was used to speaking to groups of teachers and medical practitioners in my professional life but to speak about the gospel to a bishop and crowd of Catholic priests was a real challenge. Who would want to preach to preachers? The gospel reading I had to speak about was John 4:3-30, the story of the woman at the well. After tearing up all attempts at writing something spiritual or intellectual (and most of my hair!) I decided to speak from a place that would be entirely unknown to my listeners - my experience as a mother. And I used my battered old copy of The Elephant and the Bad Baby as my visual aid.
I picked out the words of Jesus to the woman, "Give me a drink" and said how my family, listening to this story, would have cried in unison, "He never ONCE said please." I went through the Bad Baby book, linking the demands of the baby with the many demands that are made on priests and teachers, who frequently feel unappreciated. They loved it! I wasn't challenging their position in any way, I was being a Mum, recognising their tiredness and hurts and comforting them with a story. And, like all good mothers, I finished with a message of hope, if they were to take time over the weekend to listen, even amid the sound of those 12 foot waves crashing onto the rocks outside, they might just hear a "Please."
I bet Elfrida Vipont never expected her children's book to provide the basis of a homily! Or, as the Episcopal Vicar for Formation referred to it - a homilette. Well, he had to draw the distinction, I am a woman after all.
One of our family favourites is The Elephant and the Bad Baby by Elfrida Vipont, with wonderful illustrations by Raymond Briggs. My children loved it when they were small and we all still pick up on anyone in a restaurant, shop or on TV who fails to ask politely for anything by chorusing, "But you haven't once said please! You haven't ONCE said please!" Now it is granddaughter Millie's turn to love the book. She doesn't understand about manners yet but she loves rumpeta, rumpeta, rumpeta all down the road, joining in with gusto as I turn the pages.
I know that Millie will go on to find more and more to interest and amuse her in the illustrations and that sooner or later she will think the Baby is naughty and then begin to wonder about the morality of the Elephant. (I have a feeling that this book might be responsible for the increase in interest in philosophy among young people, since 1967.)
I was used to speaking to groups of teachers and medical practitioners in my professional life but to speak about the gospel to a bishop and crowd of Catholic priests was a real challenge. Who would want to preach to preachers? The gospel reading I had to speak about was John 4:3-30, the story of the woman at the well. After tearing up all attempts at writing something spiritual or intellectual (and most of my hair!) I decided to speak from a place that would be entirely unknown to my listeners - my experience as a mother. And I used my battered old copy of The Elephant and the Bad Baby as my visual aid.
I picked out the words of Jesus to the woman, "Give me a drink" and said how my family, listening to this story, would have cried in unison, "He never ONCE said please." I went through the Bad Baby book, linking the demands of the baby with the many demands that are made on priests and teachers, who frequently feel unappreciated. They loved it! I wasn't challenging their position in any way, I was being a Mum, recognising their tiredness and hurts and comforting them with a story. And, like all good mothers, I finished with a message of hope, if they were to take time over the weekend to listen, even amid the sound of those 12 foot waves crashing onto the rocks outside, they might just hear a "Please."
I bet Elfrida Vipont never expected her children's book to provide the basis of a homily! Or, as the Episcopal Vicar for Formation referred to it - a homilette. Well, he had to draw the distinction, I am a woman after all.
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