The Spice of Life

Do you ever get that feeling that you’ve been bone idle for the past ten days or so, until someone reminds you just what you’ve achieved? I know, by my generally shattered state of being, that I’ve not been quite so lazy as I like to imagine; if anything, I’ve probably overdone it but, when one’s level of emotional and physical stamina is at the most one third of those distant pre-illness days, it’s far too easy to fall into that trap.

The paucity of blog postings has little to do with having nothing to say, more a case of not knowing where to begin or, even having sufficient emotional resource to make such a complicated decision.

The recent trip to Northampton, even though I spent much of the time resting, took more of a toll than I’d realized at first; so often these events catch up with one when it’s least expected! Still, they do say “variety is the spice of life”, in which case I’m a very lucky man; variety of the surprise kind must be even spicier than that of one’s chosen course of action!

Most of my activities have been garden and greenhouse related; assembling a “love seat” adjacent to the garden pond, building a small cairn of reclaimed stones, boulders, granite, sandstone and limestone, to provide a little haven for various insects and wee beasties in the wildlife end of the garden, as well as re-potting a few of the tomato plants. I’ve also lost track of the number of tomato plants we’ve given away. The fact that my beloved has been on holiday from work, and doing a splendid job of tackling some of the more tenacious weeds in borders and rockeries, has served as a splendid incentive for me to slightly expand my usual pottering about activities.

As I’ve been writing this, I’ve been somewhat distracted by a 35 minute commercial for the Spanish Tourist Board, on BBC1, under the title ‘Songs of Praise’. So now I know where not to go on holiday, to the Costa del Sol, as it seems to be primarily a community for British expatriates, a haven for golfers and visitors to zoos. The tourism promo was occasionally interrupted by hymn singing!

Many Happy Returns

I make little secret of the fact that I’m not the best of travellers so, having just returned from a visit to Northampton, today is going to be a rather quiet celebration of my birthday. At the time the Beatles released “When I’m 64”, such a great age seemed almost unimaginable for this wreck of a twenty-something but, now I’m there, health problems notwithstanding I’m going through one of the happiest periods of my life. My only requirement for contentment is the presence of ma belle amoureuse, tending to the garden when stamina permits, and observing the flora and fauna hereabouts.

Sorry; that paragraph took off in a direction I hadn’t anticipated, even though every bit of it is true. Come to think of it, any direction my rambling takes is something of a surprise, not exactly stream-of –consciousness more rivulets-of-idleness. I don’t even know what I intended to say; just crossed my fingers and trusted in the keyboard to make it plain!

Let’s start at the very beginning, it’s a very good place to start; when you read you begin with A,B,C, when you write you begin with me, me, me … So, travelling is the cue. The reason for the visit to Northampton was, for my beloved to celebrate her sister Margaret’s 70^th birthday; the six siblings were to go out for a celebratory dinner on the Friday lunch time. Helen and myself don’t like the idea of being apart for even one night, so we decided that I would travel down with her, provided I could overcome my travel anxieties. Being a poor traveller, this necessitated a two night stay, arriving on the Thursday afternoon and returning home on Saturday morning.

Most of my time on the Friday was spent in our room, at The Innkeepers Lodge, resting and sleeping. I occasionally ventured out to amble around the pine tree surrounded grounds of the establishment and, grabbed a couple of starters in lieu of a main meal at the adjacent carvery. I’m grateful for the time spent sleeping, otherwise, it would have seemed an extremely long day whilst my beloved was out with her siblings. What kept me going was the thought of being back home around lunchtime the following day. Please note, it’s the arrival that matters not the journey.

The return journey went much more smoothly than we could possibly have anticipated but, nothing can match the joy of ones return to the homestead.

A highlight of the return journey was a sign, presumably referring to ongoing maintenance work, stating “DELAYS ARE LIKELY UNTIL AUTUMN 2010”; my God, I thought, I have difficulty coping with a ten minute hold-up (hyper-ventilating panic attacks etc.), I don’t think I can survive one for 2 ¼ years.

A little further along the motorway, a large poster in an adjacent field read, “PREPARE TO MEET YOUR GOD”. The way some people were driving, crossing lanes without signalling, cutting in without leaving an appropriate space between the other vehicles, it seemed quite ominous. If the intent was to proselytize, it was sufficiently distracting to ensure that potential converts may not survive long enough to repent or convert. Must admit, I appreciated it more as the work of a prankster with a sick sense of humour, rather than a wayside pulpit.

This posting also appears on Mal's Murmurings

Let The Sunshine ...

Glorious sunshine today, rather too warm to risk doing too much pottering about and, Cathy who had joined us for lunch (one of my special chicken & vegetable Madras dishes, served with saffron rice and a side-dish of tomatoes and cucumber in natural yoghurt) basked on one of our sun-loungers close to the garden pond, whilst my beloved sought the shade of the parasol.

Heat notwithstanding, after a little postprandial rest, my beloved boldly managed to fight a victorious struggle with invasive ground elder and yellow loosestrife as she cleared some of the shadier areas of the garden for me to plant some of the pansies we’d been given yesterday.

Having mentioned yesterday, I should mention our enjoyment of Afternoon Tea in the local Methodist Chapel. Although the chapel has not been used for worship for a considerable time, the former members (now dispersed elsewhere in the circuit) meet occasionally for coffee mornings and other social events, the proceeds from which all go to charity. Although I never actually attended this chapel, I’m made to feel very much a part of the community.

Had this event been on Friday, I certainly wouldn’t have been in any fit state to attend, the entire day having been spent, by yours truly, in an achingly exhausted woozily zonked-out state of being. Much of this zonked-out state, I suspect, was in response to the previous days acupuncture treatment. The overall effects of the treatment, in terms of pain-relief and energy boosting, are invariably most beneficial but, I have rather learned to expect this preliminary slump before the positivity shines through.

a glorious compensation

The garden is alive with cheeps, twitters and chirps, as generations of our avian friends share the feeders and the wilder area of the garden. Wherever one looks, the garden is abuzz with their activity. Juveniles squeal, wings all a tremble, seeking attention, their gapes extended in eager anticipation.

I always enjoy these garden gatherings; the species may be common enough, starlings, blackbirds, collar doves, wood pigeons, house sparrows and dunnocks, being the most frequent attendees. Blue tits and coal tits weave their flight between feeders, shrubs and plants – I suspect a lot of greenfly and other bugs are being garnered to feed their young.

Each time I wander to the kitchen door, for the occasional nicotine fix, I’m cheered to hear the glorious concatenation of bird song; a glorious compensation on those days when either the elements or lack of stamina prevent me from pottering around out there myself.

New Picture Blog

I have recently started a new 'image' blog, MAL's PICTUREBOX, for occasional postings of snapshots and paintings. Why not pay it a visit?

The Syro-Phoenician Woman

Having just read a most enlightening posting about The Samaritan Woman on KHANYA blog, I was in some way reminded of this Bible Study on our HelMals website.



Mark 7 vv.24-30 The Syro-Phoenician Woman

Before I returned to this passage, it was already obvious (to me) that the passage was about ‘inclusiveness’ …… a) A Gentile b) A Woman, neither of which were qualities to be valued within the Jewish orthodoxies of the time, dares to approach this itinerant Jewish preacher. I had not
foreseen / remembered the dynamite of this encounter!

Jesus responds to this woman’s plea, by offering a rather offhand Jewish comment about Gentiles being dogs and, implying His duty was to feed the children … the chosen ones. The woman dares a riposte … “even dogs eat the crumbs that fall from the children’s table”.

Jesus listens to the woman, sees her need, acknowledges the truth of her response. Her faith was to express her need. Jesus didn’t approach her as a lost soul; He listens to her need, already expressed by seeking Jesus out, the depth of her need / faith being re-affirmed by her riposte. This woman, an outsider from the church, expresses her faith in a very direct manner. She approaches Jesus out of concern for her child.

Sometimes we may have to question what we think the Lord is calling us to do. Jesus turns the other cheek …. He doesn’t turn around and say “you’ve challenged the word of the Lord” and give up on her as a lost cause, rather, He acknowledges her honest need and acts upon it. Her challenge, her act of faith results in the healing of her daughter.

Because we as Christians “know” what people need, we can so easily fail to listen, especially if what they have to say challenges our
preconceptions. Jesus didn’t see the challenge as an avoidance of
commitment; in her challenge he saw her faith.

A person’s race, religion, sexuality, social status, are unimportant; their needs are important! Perhaps one day the wrong kind of person will be the one who removes the beam from our own eye.

Malcolm Evison

Mal's Waffling On .. and on ..and on

My latest posting, Whatever Happened To?, can be found on 'Mal's Murmurings'.

The Morning After (the days before)

After yesterday’s bout of mat wrestling**, a fitful nights sleep is hotly pursued by an achingly battered and bruised Sinna Luvva’s emergence into the grey light of day. Lower limbs feel like they’re struggling through a vat of leaden sludge, and that’s simply the effort of releasing themselves from the duvet lair.

There’s no need to pinch me to check that I’m awake, rather than dreaming; every muscle and joint cries out to affirm the fact. I ache therefore I am.

At least every other day, for the past fortnight, has found yours truly engaged in performing some minor horticultural task. It’s quite surprising really, how much nurturing goes into the establishment and nurturing of the wildlife friendly area of the garden; even the transplanting of inappropriately self-rooted wildflowers, from cultivated to a more suitable site proves quite time and effort consuming.

On more than one occasion I’ve managed to overdo it; pacing isn’t quite as straightforward as I’d wish it to be. Although I recognize my limitations of physical and emotional stamina, it’s almost as if a little inner demon assures me that any perspirational endeavour that proves enjoyable can’t possibly have an ill effect.

Although I should know better, I still fall victim to the demon’s ploy. The spirit may be willing but, it’s the weakened flesh that pays the price. An increased tetchiness, and fog-befuddled thought processes, sits uncomfortably alongside the pains and aches that flesh is heir to.

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** for those readers who don’t follow / click on hyperlinks, I hasten to assure you that I have not taken up a new contact sport. The link is to my posting ‘The Heart Of The Matter’ on ‘Mal’s Murmurings’

US absent as 100 countries meet in Dublin to finalize global cluster bomb ban | Ekklesia

 

"Over the past 40 years, the vast majority of confirmed casualties from cluster munitions have been civilians, and children are particularly at risk. Cluster bombs open in mid-air dispersing dozens to hundreds of small submunitions over a large area. Many of these “bomblets” fail to detonate and can harm civilians decades after a conflict has ended."

US absent as 100 countries meet in Dublin to finalize global cluster bomb ban | Ekklesia

Today's Post on 'Mal's Murmurings'

A posting for today, Of Disassociated Leg Syndrome and Pottering About, can be found on my 'Mal's Murmurings' blog.