Away with the Fairies

Mind the Gap

2007-01-20T02:12:00.000-08:00

Sigh, I have just finished my placement at Mind the Gap and it was sooooo hard to leave. Back to uni now...

Hello all!

2007-01-09T15:00:00.000-08:00

I know I suck and don't update- but don't hate me, blame my time-eating, sadistically busy MA course!

here is a bit of news from the last week or so:

- at the moment I am spending all days in the nearby city of bradford, where I am on a placement at an acting company for people with disabilities (http://www.mind-the-gap.org.uk/index.html). It is very fulfilling- the students are so much fun and wit. It is tiring though, as everyone is at different levels of ability, so it can be a bit tricky finding material that involves everyone, as well as pushes everyone. Today I led a workshop that was 3 hours long, where we where developed a characterization of the Greek gods Dionysus, Hera, Narcissis and Persephone, and then improvised how they would act in modern situations (i.e.. At a premiere, camping etc...) It was pretty hilarious, but I am pooped. The experience is reaffirming my joy of acting. It is a blessing to see what a gift it can be- how freeing it can be for people who have trouble expressing themselves and can get frustrated. I feel I am learning so much from them- hey are amazing actors and have absolutely no inhibitions!

- my grandma has been very poorly, and had a massive stomach bypass operation today. She is being so calm and strong and graceful during the whole horrible experience. Please play for her (it would mean so much to me if you did).

- 8 youths tried to break in to our house yesterday (WHILST we were still inside!!)- Drew just saw this hand coming round the curtain at about 10pm whilst he was on the couch- scary hey! Then my silly, brave husband chased them down the street! I was so afraid that they would stab him or something- he was so out-numbered. But he was so ferociously angry that they just bolted! After the police came round we had another incident. Our neighbor's (who always burn their garbage instead of throwing it away) made a fire in their garden and it got out of control and the fire fighters had to come to put it out.
My friend Emma was sleeping over, as we are working at 'Mind The Gap' together, and I was so embarrassed! I was trying to convince her that out street isn't normally that hairy!

- Drew and I are hoping to move to London on July 1st!

-Dallas is getting married in the summer to her German dream boy, so we may well be in the lovely Canada this summer.

- I may have to make 'Tales in Transit' company so I can get liability insurance.

-My sister is preggers again

Keep cool dear friends (from the corners of the earth) and may your 2007 be blessed xx

Eeek it starts tomorrow!

2006-11-23T14:09:00.000-08:00

The BBC local and world service have been in touch with me asking if they could cover the project.... Although it would have been nice for all you lovely Canadians to be able to listen to it- it is too risky- I was too worried about the confidentiality of the participants. It didn't seem ethical as we did not have their consent, and the Media can be, well, pushy!
More to follow!

Symposium

2006-10-31T10:24:00.000-08:00

Yesterday my course buddies and I had a day of celebration- sharing our areas of interests and sharing food from our cultural background. I brought a faithfully delectable bread and butter pud, and shared about how theatre can help alleviate the 'cultural bereavement' experienced by asylum seekers. The Rasta man is Winston who is a very funny and experienced theatre worker. Interesting discussions that arose throughout the day included contemplating the paradoxical role of a theatre facilitator working with an oppressed group. There is a danger that they abuse their position and become a facipulator (facilitator as a manipulator).

Mrs. Resourceful

2006-10-15T15:02:00.000-07:00

RIP friendly boots. You served me well.

Today, the hubby and I were took a Sunday hike upon Ilkley Moor. (we try and go at least twice a month to cleanse our lungs- Leeds pollution and mould out- fresh crunchy autumn air in...) At about 2pm sad thing happened. One of the zips of my favorite red- docs bust when Drew and I were but a stone throw away from the highest peak. I felt sad on four counts.

1) We had being climbing for an hour and were a stone throw from the top, but I didn't feel save to climb the jagged rocks further without ankle support.

2) I still had to get back down in order to warm up with a cuppa.

3) The boots and I had drawn up a special relationship over the last couple of years- I will miss their confidence-boosting whispers they give me when no one else is listening.

4) I am as broke as a joke, so cannot replace them till the 17th of December (2 months of cold ankles!)

A quick burst of practical inspiration allowed me to rectify my first two HS points*- I pulled out the bobbles from my hair braids, and tad-daa!! strapped my boots on! Drew was too impressed to feel embarrassed of me!

* HS = Beth and Drew crazy married code language for 'how sad', similarly HB = 'how bizarre,' HF = 'how funny'. Sometimes we forget that the rest of the world are not following us!

Where have all the Bethblogs gone?

2006-10-06T01:52:00.000-07:00

Ok where have I been? In a whirlwind of crazy activity and ENDLESS work. Anyone out there who has a MA and is still sane and does not have permanent nervous twitches has my full respect. I am still in the whirlwind by the was- which is why this is going to be a pocket-sized blog. Actually I feel I am in the eye of the storm where the lack of sleep; having two jobs and watching too many interest theatre performances that make fiction and reality merge, have made me gaze upon my pile of reading, dissertation, essays, symposiums, presentations and workshops I need to design and laugh a mad laugh heeeiahahahoooo he hee ho.

Also I have to write an academic critical journal of every theatre stimulus I get and I have to outline my reaction to everything I learn. This journal (which I have to present to my lecturers) is the reason that blogs do not seem as 'fun' any more. However if it seems my updates are few and far between it does not mean I am not reading YOURS!

I will try explain my course soon- when I get it under control (down tiger!) I want to tell my tales of working on creative space with asylum seekers, tell of my lovely coursemates, explain how God is pushing me and preserving my marriage amid the madness, explain why I decided it was not right for me to go to Malawi. However, for now I will leave you with a pic from Drew's birthday.

Oi! Stop your Waffling!

2006-09-05T14:56:00.000-07:00

'Stop being a waffle!' my husband demands. After many days of indecisive ravings, sleepless nights, weeping upon any dry shoulder in sight, endless pros and cons lists and hours of consequential unproductive-ness, I decided I needed to make a concrete decision. Tomorrow I will take the plunge and confirm my place on the 'Theatre for Development' masters course at Leeds. My doubts came from a lack of trust in God (that he would provide) and a lack of trust in myself (that I would survive a year of insecurity, an intense work load, and that I had the assurance that my desires matched that of those of the father above.) My alternative choice would be to get 'proper job', which would stifle my creative yearnings and passions, but, on paper, would be the more responsible (and comfortable) option.

I am not a natural risk taker, and probably wouldn't have had the boldness to begin something that holds so much uncertainity if it wasn't for Psalm: 37, James: 1 and the support of the special people in my life: the Stamfords, the Johnstons, Sarah, Cat and Lu... whose generous spirits, words of wisdom and ego-boosting encouragement have being my collective 'Wizard of Oz', giving me courage to decide.

I guess life would get boring if every decision was made for you.

Where the huckleberries grow

2006-08-26T01:44:00.000-07:00

I will take a leaf from Hannah and Danielle's books and will relate my trip to Calgary/Idaho through a list of highlights. These are illustrated by pictures from my new camera (a lovely graduation gift from Fred and Ruby). I spent my parents grad gift on one of our seemingly endless bills, but once my pockets are more lined I will buy a more tangable present. Keep me accountable dear readers!

- Hanging out with the Johnston clan.

- Playing Kubb, a rather bizarre, immensely fun Swedish garden game that involves hurling sticks at another teams sticks. Simple, but immensely fun!

- Going to Calgary zoo, where Drew and Martin were being such a barrel of laughs (Martin needs lessons in how to be politically correct around giraffes!) that I wonder if Danielle and I would have noticed if I had brought a couple of chimps back for fajitas and Settlers that night?! (Martin is officially the ruthless champion of Settlers for another year)

- Finally getting up on a Wake Board and understanding what all the fun was about! This was no minor feat I tell you. I have a longstanding, intense fear of water and can barely swim- thus when the boat pulls me up on the board my legs go to jelly and I topple off with my arms and legs flailing and pure terror written on my face. This year, I tell you, I was more than a conqueror! I gritted my teeth and remembered I was a Stamford- even though I am not officially one anymore, my dad's voice in my head ('err, Stamford's don't give up') seemed to do the trick! After a couple of face plants later I was crossing the wake and... Laughing!

- Watching my husbands rippling muscles as he masters the Wake-Skate!

- Eating Ahi tuna, Tim Hortons, BBQ salmon and steak, huckleberry ketchup, Red River cereal, as well as all kinda crazy delights at the 'Taste of Calgary' festival with Hilary.

- Meeting Dallas' fella, Dan Bjorn- who gained both Drew's and my 'seal of approval' on five counts a) He was a genuine top bloke who was fun to be around b) He clearly adores dallas and makes her smile, c) He is a sufficiently goofy, keeping us entertained with his constant proposals to have mid-morning boat raves and his impressions of Indians (particularly funny considering his base-German accent!) d) His proved that he is 'man enough' for Dallas by winning at 'Steaks'!

- Fred allowing me to be 'captain' for a while!

- Playing fetch with Toby.

- Solving mysteries with Mme Ramotswe in the latest book in the No.1 Ladies
detective agency series.

And a Low-light:

- Despite transporting us to a beautiful lake with sunshine and clear sparking water I have no love for the Motorhome. The swaying bumpy and hot box-on-wheels gave me terrible motion sickness. I punished it by puking all over it.

Here are a couple of pictures that are fun for their randomness!

Drew shares a joke with a dog... and why does my floating head always go the wrong way?

The prattle of the jet-lagged

2006-08-22T16:25:00.000-07:00

Drew and I ran out of Arnica, an anti-jet lag herbal remedy that effectively works as placebo. Thus my mind has decided that I have confused sleep patterns.

I hate re-adjusting to time zones. Which is worse? The torment of being excruciatingly tired but knowing that you need to force open your eyelids (which feel like they are made from the world's heaviest metal - Osmium, apparently-) in order to conquer the 'lag'? or the maddening refusal of an hyperactive brain to switch off and sleep before dawn? Personally I can manage the former, but insomnia always gets the better of me- and I throw of the claustrophobic blankets and leap and bound around the house with my eye pinged open. Hence the following disclaimer: I am sleep deprived and the words you see before you may not form anything but a fuzzy stream-of-consciousness.

Whilst reflecting on my trip to Canada, and upon our visit to Martin and Danielle's little pad it occurred to me that couples are a funny phenomenon. Although I have spent the last couple of years or so becoming half of a harmonized duo, it was not until I observed the Aspergen's that I stepped back and really considered the concept of two unique individuals choosing to take their route through life side by side. Perhaps it is because I am midway through Bill Bryson's 'Short History of Nearly Everything' that I am re-considering the age old 'who am I' question, and that my line of thought is inspired by scientific processes. For example, it is interesting to see marriage through a Chemist's eyes, with each individual being a separate chemical. When the two substances combine their is a crazy chemical reaction that produces energy and alters the properties of the original identities. I think I am still ME, but maybe a molded me? People do not look at me and see Drew (hopefully!) and I cannot BARE to be referred to as 'the Johnstons' (ugh!), but I think my love and fellowship with this special man has altered my point of reference, has made me into a more confident, secure and eccentric person.

On a much larger scale I wonder if becoming a Christian can be seen as the activation of an 'chemical reaction' between our creator and ourselves. By forming strong inseparable bonds that allow chemicals to function effectively he transforms us and charges our very being with the power of his spirit.

I know this sounds vague, ( I am, after all, a humanities student and, thus, should abandon attempts at the scientific), but it is important to understand one's self. Not in the self-obsessive hypo-analytical way recommended in some crack-pot physiological books, but to a way that we can self-assess our character, how we respond to things, what things are influences the constant morphation of who we are, how others see you* or what motivates us so we can consciously observe the trajectory of our created self and receive the Lords assurance for the present and the path ahead.

* I will add a little aside on what others think about you, as this is an ambiguous method to consider one's self. For me I find such 'feedback' hysterically contradictory, for instance I am regarded by some as being a quiet, passive person who will often avoid action and will retire into my own little world (with the fairies), contrary to this perception, others insist that I am intensely loquacious, and that the zip for my mouth has being busted beyond repair. Another flaw in the 'what others think' approach is that 'others' are prone to get you wrong. Jesus demonstrated that popularity is not always worth the effort. However, I reckon that if you are selflessly bringing joy to people, and that people trust you, you can see this as a manifestation of being right before God and of healthy organic character growth.

hee hee, is your head feeling dizzy? Don't say I didn't warn you! I promise less words and more pictures in my next blog. Thinking makes me hungry, and Katherine, my inseparable high school buddy, left some delectable food in the fridge from when she way house-sitting whilst we where in Canada.

Krazy Kat and myself as care-free teens!

Gowns, Donkeys and Pranks

2006-07-24T15:50:00.000-07:00

This picture filled post is in three parts, which I have ordered to get progressively less serious!

Part 1

They begin with my Graduation Ceremony from Leeds University. It was the hottest day England has ever known- and I was sentenced to wear a heavy, dark cloak. The only thing that prevented me from 'accidentally' stepping back too far and sinking into the deliciously cool pool, was that I had three layers of mascara on and didn't want my brother to take 'to-bribe-later' photos of me looking like the love child of a panda and a soggy over-sized bat.

With mum

With big bro

With yummy drewbear

With chiefdad

Part 2
Following my Graduation, Drew and I visited the quaint little seaside town Scarborough (aka geriatric-ville) with my parents. 'Twas most charming!

My mum sewing in a hole in the sand

Drew and Mum, wishing they could be part of the OAP ice-cream club...
Whispering secrets that only donkeys find interesting

Hee haw! I would ride these donkeys when I was a wee lass on holiday. It is amazing what glee a child derives from plodding on such a dumb and docile (albeit cute!) creature ten paces up a beach. I would have posted picture of my age 5 experience, but I was riding Lady Godiva style- and I have being warned by my often-worrying mother to be 'careful of cyber- weirdos who might be reading your blog'. Well maybe the next couple of pictures will scare any creeps away...

Part 3

One of the Props I had to locate for the theatre company I work for was a severed head (Bunyan's Christian regularly steps into our world and witnesses historical events- including king Charles been decapitated) When the gruesome rubber head arrived in the post I decided that drew was getting spoiled in his mellow marriage, and managed to spring a few pranks upon him- including appearing suddenly around the corner as the poppy eyed giant...

And putting him to sleep on Drew's pillow! Tee hee. My pranking days , on the whole, ended when Hannah and I put our partnership on hold for a few years. But I do like to keep her hilarious spirit alive!

A Sonnet

2006-07-22T13:42:00.000-07:00

This is an attempt to discipline the ideas in my head into a controlled pattern. I have never written a poem before so randomly embarked 'the sonnet' as I figured it will be a structured way to capture my thought. Be gentle dear critics, remembering this is my debut, and read it out loud! (surely the golden rule in reading a poem)

Quenched

"Open", the Calling's message becomes clear
And illuminating, through the reach down
To draw my hands from covering each ear;
I listen, waiting for what is spoken.

Muffled voices echo from below.
The silenced are drowning, deep in a well:
Their stories and dreams have no place to go.
Forbidden to sing; forbidden to tell.

Straining, I approach the structure, and see,
One stone that was formed from my indifference.
As it crumbles, others stop and draw near.
Their presence will demolish the silence.

Calling, sweet Calling interrupt my walk,
Without you I am deafened by my own talk.

Empty as a pocket...

2006-07-05T13:02:00.000-07:00

... Where is that money tree hiding? Do not get me wrong, it is not that I lust after wealth. My childhood was penniless and I was the happiest most fulfilled little mancub you could imagine. Although it is possible to use this idea, as well as the well documented truth that money in excess can distract a believer from a pure dependent relationship with the Heavenly Father (camels and needle eyes....), to argue that money should not be a matter of concern is erroneous (utter bunk).

I am in a bit of a dilemma, I could keep following my dream, and cling to the hope that I get the £££ to take my MA or i can give up on the idea settling for a 'proper long-term job' this stifels my creativity and passion, but pays the bills. God gives us dreams and hope, but, however, He is also the source of wisdom. Wisdom to put dreams on hold?

So yes, 'blue' is what I am feeling. However I have a sneaky feeling that I will look back over this time and not see the frustration, but, only see what I learned throgh the experience- how to maintain a marriage amid stressful conditions; how to be inventive with potatoes and rice; how to gain Kelli's forgiveness (for not coming to her wedding); how to save busfare by hurtling into town on a pedal-less bike or how truly empathise and not to romanticise the lives of poor people (who's stories I eventually want to communicate through theatre).

Who knows what the future holds, And I for one need to settle my teetering nerves with a few 'trust' sandwiches, and a cup of 'count thy blessings' tea. No matter what happens, one thing is for certain: I have the world's Grooviest Gran.

Here is a picture of her in her Ronaldinho mask that she wears while watching the World Cup. She has a small 'sympathy' crush on him (..."well, someone has to", she insists.)

She gave my cousin the fright of his life when she answered the door with it on! 'Grannybug', or 'The Queen', as I call her, has a wicked sense of humor and prooves that life over 80 can be fun. She always taught me to say 'I am who I am, and I don't give a damn.'

Here she is keeping law and order in my cousin's hat. Yes, I am proud to be named after her (middle name = Sheila).

Employable, after all!

2006-06-25T13:42:00.000-07:00

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

2006-06-19T16:39:00.000-07:00

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!

2006-06-19T15:27:00.000-07:00

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

2006-06-12T15:40:00.000-07:00

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

2006-06-11T16:45:00.000-07:00

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!!

2006-06-04T16:19:00.000-07:00

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...

2006-06-02T14:24:00.000-07:00

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)

Leeds: live it, love it

2006-05-27T05:53:00.000-07:00

After days of being confined in our house, fooling myself that I am studying (but really devising imaginative ways to distract myself) I finally finished my last exam (ever!) and stepped out in to my city, Leeds. With my trips largely consisting of the library and tennis court, I had become unfamiliar with the city I call home. Thus, I was able to objectively observe its character as a walked (her?) streets. It was an old industrial city, that has being revamped- attracting masses of students and becoming a finance centre. They call it 'the Swan', (morphed into a flashy 'hub' from being a smoggy ugly duckling) However the otherside to the new facade is also very vivid and present. There are huge amount of illegal immigrants (along with a reactionary neo-Nazi movement; the infamous British Nationalist Party has its headquarters in Leeds), homelessness, crime...
I will write more about these thoughts later (I am catching a train in an hour, and I am still in my PJ's, haven't packed and Drew wants me to make him a lentil ambledown roast), and instead I will mention a few things I have being up to. To celebrate the end of my 'under-graduatedom' Drew and I went to to West Yorkshire Playhouse. We saw a play called 'Bus' that explored the changing face of Leeds. The playwright used the setting of the city's bus systems as 'mobile battleground', exploring the divisions caused by the explosive makeover of the city (the scars of its plastic surgery?) It was really surreal, as Drew and I commute into town on the bus upon which each scene was performed, thus went we went home we felt that we had stepped on stage. Theatre has so much scope for insightful social commentary, and forces the audience to look deeper at lives that are so easy to dismiss on a day-to-day basis. The characters of play included two 'hometowners' that where homeless, and could no longer see their place in the new Leeds; the city had left them behind, so they never leave the buses, ruling the backseats and seeing the alien world change and expand through the glass. Their lives collide with two graduates who are trying to claim the city as their own.

Here you go! This is the bendy No. 1 bus, upon which I have spent on average an hour a day for the last three years (apart from when cycled in the days before my bike got stolen, and we moved to live at the top of a hill).

After the play drew and I where on our way home when I found a tenner in the street! (the coolest thing ever!) so we went to watch jazz and get a drink (first in ages! So I only had one- I am such a light weight!), something we would never have justified under any circumstances, apart from a freak piece of luck!

Last night we went to a friends birthday bash, where we watch phantom of the opera, prompting drew and I to sing al the way home (which did not cause a scene, as it was four in the morning, and the streets of Leeds where full of wasted clubbers dressed up as scooby-doo doing much weirder things)

Ahhh! Drew's yelling at me to get my butt into gear! So bye for a week! We are going to visit my parents in Carnforth, as well as spend a couple of days in the lake District. I collected loads of ASDA grocery coupons which I exchanged for a free night in a hotel in Grasmere.

blessings xxxx

To pierce or not to pierce...

2006-05-25T08:36:00.000-07:00

That is the question...

Last Christmas I pierced my nose, but it fell out in my sleep, and the hole healed up. I haven't got round to getting it re- done as I was to busy to decide whether I wanted it done or not.

At the time I enjoyed it as, believe it or not, unless I am talking to a big group of people, or leading something, or hanging out with close friends (when according to my precious arty farty buddies, Sarah and Lu, I am a raving chatterbox- even to the degree of competing with Drew!) I am painfully shy. The nose stud helped, as crazily enough I believed I could hide behind it, thus, feeling less exposed, I was more confident and carefree. However, looking at the pictures I look a bit like a pretentious hippy tree-hugger! I do love trees, and hippy are okay as long as they shower and don't say they are going to save the environment by sitting on their butts smoking pot in a drum circle.
I am so pooped after my (last!) exam, and getting my celebratory pineapple all over my key board, so I am leaving the decision up you dearest readers, or random cyber wanderers. (Laura your vote does not count, cause I already know what you are going to say!) Meanwhile I am going to refill my tea cup and have a quick nap before Drew and I go to the theatre. Hello summer!!!... I am emerging from my hermit/revision existence and the sun is shining for the first time in forever! Hurrah Henry!

Soggy Bears

2006-05-22T12:06:00.000-07:00

Another rainy day... I am beginning to think I should build an ark! Drew and I have just being out to deliver a birthday present to a buddy, and walked around getting wetter and wetter (wind and rain join forces to defy even the strongest brollies). Finally we surrendered and called off the planned hike in the moors (Bronte-land). Instead we returned our soggy selves to our cozy little basement flat to drink tea and study. (This last sentence carries the risk of provoking Hannah's 'boffin' accusations. However, I regularly am the recipient of the cheeky suggestion as to 'do you colour your hair?' To this insinuation that I am blonde, thereby dumb, I usually causally mention that I beat the president of the Leeds University Chess Society at... chess.
Enough blowing upon my own trumpet... as I remain dangerously dizzy - Drew has saved my life a dozen of times whilst crossing roads (not entirely my fault - British drivers are fairly mad). So yeah, Uni has injected a dose of boffinness in me, how to listen, how to finish what I start (half finished essays do not go down to well!), how to critically assess things- not just absorbing pre-formed thought patterns. Besides! education can make mischievous plans and pranks all the more efficient and effective!
Nevertheless, I am through with theories. I am not cut out to be an academic (unlike my darling clever tiger). Nope, I am ready to do something more vocational, work with people. It is individual stories that really excites my creativity. Every life has a story of design, is a narrative of brokenness with the potential story of healing.
My favourite poet that I encountered this year is the Caribbean Derek Walcott. In his essay The Antilles: Fragments of an Epic Memory he describes how his nation can claim a beautiful history from the pain of the past through a image of restored vase:
'Break a vase, and the love that reassembles the fragments is stronger than that love which took its symmetry for granted when it was whole. The glue that fits the pieces is the sealing of its original shape. It is such a love that reassembles our African and Asiatic fragments, the cracked heirlooms whose restoration shows its white scars.'
I know I am rudely mis-appropriating his images... but the symbolism in these words has comforted me so much in this spiritually difficult year. I feel like I have the white scars that display the healing and grace of Christ. He lifts me out of the soggy puddles where I fall and hangs me on the line to dry. Now I can be huggable again.

On a lighter note, here is my scrumptious smoldering bloke, looking cool. The picture was taken the summer after we left Thetis Island, and moments before Drew was to get well and truly beaten by his wife-to-be, lose his cool, and throw the pieces across the Ruby's lovely garden in a pouting rage! Haha! I can say all this because Drew is cleverer at absolutely everything else!

yummy wood

2006-05-20T10:39:00.000-07:00

My beautiful sister sent me an exam survival package from her little mountain home in Colorado. It included cinnamon flavoured toothpicks to 'chew and thoughtfully ponder on facts and figures.'

Which is exactly what I am doing now... Mulling over grandiose concepts that 'determine whether the proletariat will be a spectator or an actor in the making of history.' Ahh soon I can cathartically empty them all out onto my exam paper and do prance about in the summer daisies. Learning is good and all that, but revision makes you forget how to live. Drew is such light relief, even when the biggest cloud is raining over his mind, he can make me laugh so hard I choke on my toothpick.

I can't help eating these things! They are so incredibly tasty. Everything American has 'frills'. I hope my stomach is up to digesting woodchips.

Maybe I am hungry. I will go cook supper, and see if I can then deliberate and reflectively chew like a normal person, without munching poor Mr. Stick to death.

In-betwixt and in-between

2006-05-18T12:18:00.000-07:00

Not here or there, not student nor graduate,
not child nor adult...

Actually the latter is not quite true, I think I am
officially 'grown up', and am quickly losing the ability to be daft and mad with the forgivable excuse of being a tot. Or maybe you are a kid until you have one? (which, incidentally, I have managed to resist for the time being- even though some people actually put bets upon me becoming preggers in our first year of marriage) But either way I feel I am occupying some in-between stage, where I do not really know what I want to do, but have to choose. Thus I can not chillax, as drew loves to call it. Choosing is also not easy, as Drew still has lots of education left, so I can not drag him wherever I want.

The 'mad dogs and Englishmen' in the picture above are demonstrating a passion of mine. A passion I feel comes from God, and will somehow push me to make some decisions of some sort.
The injustice in our global community is intrinsically linked to my spiritual understanding. I get excited when I remember how the Lord's character includes a compassion of the poor, and is an antithesis to greed, as he has the power to transform the systems that are oppressing people. I don't know if most people are 'called' to do something specific, but I reckon that in some way he enables us to manifest his character, and I guess I would like his hunger for a river of justice to be manifested through my 'choices'.

I'll catch my self before I go off into endless thoughtful musings, and get back to some revision. Procrastination is my middle name.

Drew and I have just got back from the library where I picked up a bunch of fusty old journals. But I might go out for a little stroll in the park with hubby-dear before I bury myself in them. It has being raining on and off all week, in true English fashion, so the key is to snatch to moments in-between. Yesterday I went out for my community training (I am in the TIDAL Surge team- ( see www.leedstidal.org/) and it bucketed it down the whole way there. Is there anything harder than trying to be friendly when you have wet underwear?

And on that note, ciao my dear buddies!

Blog it Baby!

2006-05-16T18:20:00.000-07:00

Eek! my first step into blogger space!

I have put this off for some time... happily existing vicariously through the blog of my dearest drewpants. However, having finishing my dissertation and essays I have found myself having computer withdrawal symptoms. This is most peculiar, as most of you know I despise the wretched, cold machines. Nevertheless, although I am offically free from writing page after page... my fingers have been nervously twiddling all day. Even in the street. So hopefully this blog will ease me off nice and slowly...

What lies in store for all my blog readers? (if you are out there! haha, this could be an even geekier version of talking to myself) well, I have finished uni, but have one exam to go. It is on the Italian Marxist Antonio Gramsci. It should be fairly easy as most of his work was written in a fascist prison, where not only did he write his random theories and notions in a code language (to get past the censors), but he died before he completed any of his ideas. Thus after translating this stream of consciousness into english, his 'notebooks' are so vague, you can pretty much interperate his work to say what you like, and not get marked down.

My blog is also going to be filled with many dyslexic delights. My apologies. My English/theatre studies teacher got 'hopping mad' at me, and told me to find some stratagies over the summer. I am hopefully starting my MA in Sept. It is called 'Theatre For Development', but I will write no more on this until I get my grades and know I have a place.

Between now and then I am going to get a job, go to Calgary, Milan and Malawi, chill with my drewbear, move churches, and drink lots of tea.

I think I have appeased the nervous typing condition enough, I can go snuggle up to my favourite pillow without drumming my fingers on his head.

How do you end these things? um, goodnight and God bless?