Employable, after all!

After a fun week of reading novels, going on bike rides and other such 'free' delights, the novelty of unemployed life began to wear off, leading me to start three jobs all in one week. Unfortunately only one of them is paid (Waitress in a mellow vegetarian restaurant), so I will not be able to save up to buy a new bike. My current mode of transportation is a bit on the wobbly, life endangering side. Just a couple of hours the bike in question decided to collided with a fence, and scratched of the remaining 'Milan-tan' on my arm, leaving a smattering of splinters.

Anyhow, enough boohoo, my second job is stage manager for a mad local theatre company. (see pic) http://www.pointedarrow.co.uk/
This summer we are performing Bunyan's Pilgrims Progress: here is a scene that I love, because the 'Pit of Despond' is my second home:

Help: What ho! What are you doing down there old chap? It's not a pleasant place.

Christian: I'm trying to get to the gate over there, so that I can escape the destruction of my city and be freed from this burden but we've fallen in this bog.

Help: Tut tut! It won't do, it really won't. Do you know where you are?

Christian: No.

Help: You are wallowing in the mud of the Swamp of Despond.

Christian: Swamp of Despond? What is this mud?

Help: It is the awareness of how selfishly you have lived. Having left your home and set out towards the light, that same light is showing up all the things about yourself that you regret and wish to be rid of, and so you feel as if things have got worse, when you were expecting things to get better.

Christian: I see. Then things are worse than when I first began.

Help: No, no, no, no, no. Oh no, good chap. In reality things are not worse - it's just that your eyesight has improved and you are now able to see yourself more clearly than before - and that is a good thing, for you cannot deal with your condition until it is clearly seen.

Christian: So my eyesight has improved?

Help: Undoubtedly old chap. For it is lighter here than where you started. Here, let me help you out.

Eventually I want to direct my own plays, but for now this is a really useful experience, and fun too. It will be helpful preparation for my MA degree, which, incidentally, is more of a reality for September, As I graduated with the grade I needed to get in.
My third job consists of composing a fact sheet for a local trade, debt, and climate awareness charity, so it is back to the library for me. What a research addict/boffin I am.

Well I am off to clean some windows (our house is part-way becoming spick and span for sis-in-law Dallas, who is coming to visit Tuesday). Here is a beauteous picture of the Dal-Cat with her darling Dan-the-Man:

Babes in the wood

Drew and I spent the weekend with my brother, his man-cubs, Saphina and Joshua, with whom I (respectively) played many games of swingball and thunderbirds. My sister-in-law, Sarah made a truly delectable Father's day BBQ which was enjoyed most of all by drewbear, who has lived of chickpeas and quorn and apple bangors for the last few months.


Enjoy these pictures from our Sunday stroll in the 'Forest of Bowland', where Josh and I killed six menacing dragons with big sticks, and saph found an undiscovered metal island in a stream, which is now christened 'Beauty Island'. Everyone draw it on your atlas.

What a legend!

This post is dedicated to the best dad in the whole world. I am not just saying that because it was father's day yesterday, my dad is seriously a righteous dude.

Apart from being an absolute hoot to imitate, 'chiefdad' (seven years later he is still in denial about his grampa-status) is a very inspirational man. The world could do with a few more dozen 'Graham Stamford's (as long as no one allowed them to congregate into a choir- the noise would be AGONIZING, ahhh!!!!! Even imagining it has sent shudders down the spine)

Anyway, without getting all cheesy on you, descending into 'i wuv my daddy-ness', I will mention two things that I learned from my dad; two gems of wisdom have stuck with me.

1) Never give a flying monkey what anyone thinks. Although I have blushed many at time at the way he wears dress shoes with a tracksuit, falls asleep at every church service he doesn't preach at or sings (badly) in the street, I greatly admire his freedom in himself. Being constantly self-conscious stifles all sorts of things from sharing your faith, to having fun.

2) 'Trust in the Lord and do good'. My dad would say this to me every morning before school. Although I was not entirely 'good' at school, I gradually began to realize that I need to trust in the Lord's strength in my search for meaning, and in my choices that effect both my happiness and that of people in my life. I guess my dad demonstrated through his life that if you say you're a Christian then it is pretty lame to not be authentic(not to letting your relationship with God encompass your whole life); but the only way to be 'real' is to trust that he can make our selfish ambitions into compassion.

As Fruity as a Bat Cake

Sometimes 'Spoonerism' is my middle name. I love showering my vocab with colourful phrases, but lack the memory to sustain their accuracy. In the last week I have been heard to muse that 'I smell a mouse', as well as regularly 'taking a challenge with piece of cake', whilst finding it all 'a pinch of salt'. However, I still held enough self belief to insist that I was not as daft as a comb to suggest that Drew should 'keep his nose to the ground' about some suspicious circumstances that had cropped up today. Drew laughingly corrected that it was 'ear to the ground' and I was confused with 'nose to the grindstone.' Now, I was so adamant I was right (I had images in my head of trackers smelling poo to track things and figure out what was going on, thus 'nose' seemed the most logical choice) so I typed it into google to prove my case.

I was wrong of course. However, my search results did find me something quite hilarious. Out there in Cyber space is a bloke who also has 'spooner-itus' and posted his unfortunate mistakes on the web (which included mine). Here are some of my favourites. Enjoy.

• A cock and ball story
• Anything for a quiet wife
• Burning my bridges at both ends
• Feeding the mouth that bites you
• Going off on a tandem
• Hitting the snail on the head
• I wandered lonely as a crowd
• I've got a bone to grind with you
• I've got an axe to pick with you
• In the land of the blind, Elvis is king
• It's a Trojan heel
• It's my Achilles' horse
• Making a meal out of a molehill
• Like a bear on a hot tin roof
• Like a cat with a sore arse
• Smelling like hotcakes
• Origin of the Specious
• The world is my lobster
• Turning a blind cheek
• Turning the other eye
• You can lead a fish to water
• It buggers belief
• It'll all end in cheers
• It squeaks volumes

Miraculously, and in spite of my lack of command of my mothertongue, I got my grades for English back today and scraped a 'First' (yippee!). The strike ended the last week, which is good news for me, as it means I can actually graduate, but sad news for the lecturers who will probably have to dig out their patchy jackets and rickety bikes...

Next week I find will be told a number which will determine my fate for next year. Will I get to do a fun creative masters degree, or sentenced to a year (or a life) of 9-5boredomm? Aaaahhhh!Thee suspense is driving me NUTS!

I am having Lucy withdrawal symptoms. It was so wonderful to talk, talk, and talk some more. Drew fulfills the spot as 'bestest buddy' very copiously, however every girl needs time with female companions. Women (althoughh obviously NOT inferior), are definitelyy different. And what wonderful differences...

Married Penguins

Hi there dudes!
Well, I was going to tell you about our adventures on the continent, but Drew got there first and stole my thunder! Taking advantage of the fact that I could not tear myself away from reading the novel Monkey Beach in our garden on the only sunny weekend I haven't had a job, he even posted all our photo's on his site. We should really merge our blogs in to one cheesy coupley thing. However, with Drew's cup been half empty and mine half full, the casual reader may become confused.

There are many reasons why being Mrs. Drewbear is the bees-knees (most of which I do not feel comfortable disclosing to blogosphere), but one I wish to illuminate is his angle on life. Without being dogmatic and rigid (I can, at times, coax him to re-think his position) he offers a refreshing outlook that is not shaped by 'vogue' ideas. I feel very liberated when talking to him, he is my toughest critic, and challenges the very essence of my ideas, making me clearer and more articulate in the views that shape my actions. His adversity to all that is pretentious and smug has really challenged me in my faith. Why do I over complicate things? Is my relationship with my maker merely emotional impulses? Upon which grounds do I build my belief? Thus, over the past couple of weeks I have concocted five reasons why I would call myself a Christian:

1) Historically it works. (there was a bloke called Jesus, who fulfilled the prophesies...)

2)Spiritually it works. (My condition as a human is recognized by the failure-promise-repentance-forgiveness-purity message of grace)

3) Creation- What an incredible artist. Just the other day I beheld the alps from the middle of lake, the shades of purple took my breath away. Who knows (and frankly who should care) how and when it was created, the earth surely reflects the Lord.

4) testimonies- As well as personal experiences, the transformational impact of the life of Jesus is evident in the life of others. I have witnessed peoples lives dramatically turned around after they have accepted his message.

5) Morality- The life that comes with being a Christian is, in my opinion, the best their is. Providing ones relationship with the Father is authentic, the believer is empowered to become upright and able to unselfishly love others, thus will become more ethical and having richer relationships, become trustworthy, and will move away from despair, hypocrisy and shallowness.

As I am particularly fond of cyber dialogue, please let me know your opinions- and let me know what constitutes your perceived raison d'etre.

Ciao amici!!

Okay, I am going to try the short snappy blog thing, and resist the urge to launch into my usual mindless pondering chitchat that goes on and on. The reason being I need to go and visit the land of nod for a few hours before I need to wake up and catch a plane to Milano, Italia. Drew and I are off to visit Lucy, a buddy of mine from university who has being studying in Milan since Christmas. I miss her dearly, when I saw some bargain-ous tickets I snapped them up. Drew and I are trying to pack as much carefree fun and spontaneous adventure into these couple of weeks before we get jobs that chain us down and deny us of all freedom and youth!

Lucy is the girl in the picture with the curly hair and glasses, she is with Sarah, who also very important in my life. The two of them as well as myself, Ally and Cat make up 'the 5', a little fellowship of companions (more on the '5' later- I need to honor my promise of brevity!) You can do it Beth... yes yes you can... take those typing fingers to bed... say it.. go on...

Goodbye!!! Goodnight!!! Have golden dreams, and a lovely, blessed week.

Refreshed by pastoral tranquility...

It is a beauteous evening, calm and free,
the holy time is quiet as a Nun
breathless with adoration; the broad sun
Is sinking down in its tranquility;
The gentleness of heaven broods o'er the Sea:
Listen! The mighty Being is awake,
And doth with his eternal motion make
A sound like thunder--everlastingly.
Dear Child! Dear Girl! That walkest with me here,
If thou appear untouched by solemn thought,
Thy nature is not therefore less divine:
Thou liest in Abraham's bosom all the year;
And worship'st at the Temple's inner shrine,
God being with thee when we know it not.

(a sonnet of our dear Billy Wordsworth)

Despite seasonal absence of anything yellow on 'the daffodil walk', our visit to the heart of the Lake District felt like we had surreally stepped into one of Wordsworth's classical poems. However the photo above does not show me blissfully meditating on the magical surrounding beauty, softly reciting such poems, and praising our Maker, the perfect artist. No, I have flopped unable to move a muscle after dragging my unfit body over the stones on our hike ('... pant..heave...puff...wait Drewbear..pant....so steep....why won't someone build me a chair lift?...pant...) However after my city/studentness got out of my system I was prancing from peek to peek like a wee mountain goat.

It was so nice just to chat and wander aimlessly- both of us needed to rest and fresh air so much. Sheep have to be the funniest animals. They are so chilled but daft at the same time! Drew loved talking to them, even whilst they pee (see picture). We spent a day at Keswick, hiking at some waterfalls, ate lots of gingerbread in Grasmere, spent a morning rowing around a lake, zipped around on open top buses, which does crazy things to your hair.

Back in Carnforth I spent some special time with my parents and my sweet sweet friend Mary. Although we used to be neighbors, Mary and I do not get to see each other very much, as she is training to go to Uganda as a vet. Sigh, I'll miss her. She is a companion who is fun and good to the core! So many precious people who I hold so close to my heart are geographically so far away! Cat is in India, Alex in Romania, Lu in Italy, Hannah, ex- roomies, other capes buddies in Canada, sister Jillypie, Zippy, Doug and Bjorn also across the pond in the US, Sarah in Mattai's arms (which could just as well be the other side of the world!).... the list goes on! Oh well! I can not complain too much, as my dearest hubby is here.

Mary managed to rope us into performing a drama 'skit' at an old people's home hymn service. It turned out to be loads of fun. Old people are funny ('is he your gentleman? is he a gentleman? Does he give you lots of loving?' ...Two minutes later... is he your gentleman?....) This animated old lady asked Drew if he could guess what religion she was, when he couldn't she beckoned him over so she could whisper in his ear, 'I'm a sally-basher.' Drew looked a little perturbed, imagining her in a bizarre cult that searched out all the women named sally in the vicinity to bash them with their zimmerframes. He was most relieved to find out it was only a nickname for the Salvation Army!

Old people are so neglected and lonely, and many of them where so comforted by the hymns. I chatted to one 90 year old blind lady who described to me these dreams she had of heaven, and how she would be able to see again, and see the Father who was waiting for her.

I also got to spend some quality time with my parents. Mum and I had many endless mad conversations that we have nearly every night on the phone. A wonderful aspect of being married is the way that the idea 'both being wives together' stengthens the bond between daughter and mother. We also got hooked on the BBC production of the Dickens classic Bleak House, and watched every episode.

Yawn... I am getting sleepy, am off to snuggle my poorly pookie (who has the flu) I will probably write tomorrow, if I am not too weak from my fast (organized for the whole 'created?' magazine team by the new editor ... Yes, I hung up my boots!) I should be fine though, as I plan to cheat a little (sugary drinks). God and I have an understanding where I only will cut out solids (he created me with low-blood-sugar, and a propensity towards ungodly grumpiness without it)