Morning Slips By So Quickly

My morning chores are done. I woke up disorientated after a night of little sleep, wrestling with some issues that need decisions. So, I've sleepwalked through the morning. I spent time at the computer, staying in touch with friends, answered some tricky emails on the Home Education Group I moderate, and ordered two books from Amazon. I realised I'd not bought a book for months, so treated myself to two, both from Hugh Fearnley Wittingstall's River Cottage series. These are cookbooks, by the way, one about preserves and another about bread.

Next, I made smoothies for the troops, made sure Jack had an adequate breakfast for his Philosophy exam this morning and chatted to Jamie and Grace before they set off for work and college. Jamie now drops Grace off on Tuesdays. When they'd gone, I ate some toast and pottered around in the garden in my dressing gown, hanging laundry and watering my plants. No one was about, but I still felt a bit slobby so I showered and dressed. I've made dinner already, chili as it's chilly today, and tidied the kitchen, put another load of laundry on and now I need to get my mind sorted before going off to work in 20 minutes.

Jamie and Grace on the beach in winter

Cleaning the Home

I hate cleaning. Sorry, but I do. I have friends (you know who you are) who love it, but not me. I like *organising* things/people/areas to work more efficiently and save time, but I'm not the alphabetise-your-spices-kind of woman either.

When I cleared out the linen cupboard the other day, I discovered several sheets I'd forgotten we had. I had been planning to purchase a couple more, so that exercise saved me a lot of money. I also cleared out two black bin bags full of stuff I'd been hoarding 'just in case' or for sentimental reasons. The result was something much more manageable.



The linen cupboard or the airing cupboard as it is still known here.
The hot water tank below warms everything through nicely.



I also like my bed to be smooth and made well, with clean sheets fresh from the line. This old thin quilt has replaced the winter duvet for the next few months. However, I can't remember the last time I dusted in my bedroom. Or hoovered under the bed.

I bought this quilt about 25 years ago, I think?
The bed is about 20 years old, very wide and has to have two separate mattresses.
It's really comfortable.

Grace keeps her room pretty tidy, but she needs help remembering to get into the corners and to throw things away occasionally. I probably spend more time helping her do those things than I do in my own room.

Jack, unfortunately, has the smallest room. About 7 feet by 6. It's very hard for him to clean OR organise it, so he generally doesn't bother trying. After all his exams are over this summer, he's going to be doing a DEEP clean, but it will be painful for me to enforce because he will be so resistant. I think it has probably got to a health hazard point now though.

My kids have always had responsibility for cleaning and tidying their own rooms. Now they are adults (almost) it's difficult for me to step back and let them keep it really messy. But then I'm not exactly a good role model either. I am clearly conflicted on the subject of cleaning.

How about you? Do your children clean their own rooms? How clean is your own bedroom right now?

The Work I Do

When I have enough time at home and no other pressing matters to deal with, I like nothing better than employing my 'house-wifely' skills to benefit and nurture my family. Jamie and Grace love my cooking. Jack would rather I cooked fewer vegetables, but one day he will appreciate the healthy start in life my cooking has given him.

A chard and mushroom quiche

I enjoy going out to work too. I love using my skills and experiences in teaching children who have some sort of obstacle preventing them from learning efficiently. I enjoy exchanging my labour for money. It feels very rewarding. It's like the outside world is saying, 'You are worth this much money.'

5 pints of Greek yoghurt made in the slow cooker

Interestingly, being paid for your work impacts the way OTHERS think about you too. For eg, any of my home-educating friends could have had the benefit of my skills and experience for free during all the years of home-education, but they didn't often ask for it, even when I offered. The same people are now terribly impressed that I am being paid to do this work. It's a strange thing.
 

A delicious treat, home-made yoghurt with home made cherry jam, all organic naturally.



It's rather like a friend who was a Lactation Consultant in Toronto, who was well paid by a hospital to help mothers with breastfeeding difficulties. She was also a La Leche League Breastfeeding Counsellor and gave her time free as a volunteer to the telephone helpline. Many times, she would find the same mothers, who ignored her free advice from the help-line, would turn up at the hospital and pay her hundreds of dollars for a consultation where she would give exactly the same advice.

We're trying to add to our growing space.
This small plot yielded all these rocks.

We all seem to have this mind-set that something is only valuable if it is worth paying for. It's also easy to fall into the trap of thinking that only the work we do which is exchanged for cash is valuable. This is NOT true.

We don't have too many flowers in the garden
but I just had to bring some in for the Shabbat table.

When I bring flowers in from the garden to adorn the dinner table, or take the time to bake a quiche from scratch, or plant tomatoes out in the garden, I am doing something important. I am building a nurturing home.


Cucumbers, tomatoes and aubergines, planted out.

And even though I am not being paid for it, this is valuable work.

^'The wise woman builds her house, but with her own hands the foolish one tears hers down.' Proverbs 14:1

The Philosophers' Song

Here's my little family in 1994, about to go into a strange church in Canada to have Jack baptised. We were not Christians back then, so I'm not too sure why we did it. A cousin gave Jack a  present of a impressively large hardback book, The World's Religions and inscribed the inside with 'Options, Jack, Options.' At the time I thought it was funny.

When we became Christians a couple of years later, I kept thinking about that book and it was frequently referred to when we wanted to understand something about other faiths during our home education years.

Jack's 'Christening' in 1994.
We just about managed to stuff him into the Christening gown I wore in 1957 and my father also in 1927.

Now that baby has grown into a strong, intelligent 17 1/2 year old looking for a Christian Theology degree course to take. He has considered his options and chosen to be a Follower of Jesus. It's not however, an easy path for a teenage to take. It's not a universally approved of path.

When I went to university in 1975 the first thing anyone studying at my university had to do was a compulsory (for all Humanities degrees) course on The Enlightenment period of history. It was designed intentionally to rid us of our superstitious religions. It worked. My faith in the Catholicism of my parents fell away and for the next 22 years I lived as an atheist.

I think that Jack's faith is on firmer foundations than mine were. He is already writing essays on Locke and Hume and and Existentialism for his Philosophy A Level and is getting great grades. His teacher says he is writing undergraduate level critiques for the College's Advanced Philosophy website. Cool.

Am I proud of him? Yes. Am I anxious about university for him? Yes. Have I done my best to give him a great start in life. Yes. So, no guilt there. None of us knows what the future brings, but at least I won't look back and wonder if there was more we could have done, as parents, to point him to the King.

If your children are headed to university in the next few years, how are you feeling about it all?

A Tale of Two Siblings

I'm sure most parents are aware of the differences between their children. It shouldn't have come as a surprise to me, but it did, that my babies looked so different from each other at birth. Their personalities were so different too. As they've grown together, even with the natural cement that comes with home education and living together, they still diverged widely. They don't seem to be natural friends, which has made us sad. However, some days, I see glimpses of affection which may be kindled in future years to a good strong relationship. Jamie and I pray hard for this. They have virtually no other family to rely on. They will need each other later in life.

Grace and Jack

In the space of one week, I've had a meeting with Grace's Care Manager to discuss what sort of social care she will need in the future, because she won't be able to look after herself, and we were told by his tutors that we should be looking at top universities for Jack because he is so bright. (That's not necessarily the same as good at taking exams though, so his results this summer might put paid to those ambitions!) Let me tell you, to be helping these two wonderful, but very different young adults find their way at the moment, is supremely challenging.

Luckily, Jack has some amazing mentors, including Andy in the picture below who is a Theology professor. Jack has had some brilliant godly men in his life and I know they are taking a keen interest in his character and faith development.


Jamie and Andy praying before the service last Sunday

I wish I could say that we had the same help for Grace. Yesterday, she was very quiet and sad after college. Later, I noticed she'd been crying which is quite a rare event for her. Eventually, she told me that she just felt alone and 'dumb' and worried that her life wasn't moving on like other people's. Every other 20 year old she knows, apart from those with autism, are either working or away at university. I wish I knew how to help her better. I wish she had a similar group of women in her life, as Jack has men, who would love her and want to guide her and pray for her.

This picture seems to sum it all up really.
One brave and tall and confident, the other, not so much.

Today, we take Jack to the first of his university visits. This one is to the London School of Theology. He is absolutely ready for independence and very excited about learning and being busy out in the world. We all need to manage this situation carefully so that it doesn't cast Grace further downwards, as she comes to realise more keenly her own situation in comparison to Jack's. If you have any thoughts or wisdom as to how to do this, please suggest them. Is blog isn't just rhetorical!

The School I teach In

I teach a few hours a week in a very unusual school. It's in a farm. The classes are in the converted barns and the grounds are managed by the students under the leadership of one of the teachers. They grow quite a bit of food, especially those doing the Environmental Management GCSE, and sell it to the parents.

The kids have been busy planting

The children are pretty free-ranging, which is great, but also tricky for me to deal with, having come from the state sector, where discipline is the number one obsession.


The orchard

The structure of the place is very loose. I often have to go and find my students for a lesson. They could be digging a hole, feeding the chickens, watching a farrier do...whatever he does to the ponies, or just up a tree contemplating their freedom.


The playground

Sometimes, when I arrive, they will have forgotten to tell me that my student isn't there that day, or I'll arrive in the room and discover there are no tables or chairs in there. I go searching for them and drag them in from other rooms. I've learned to arrive early.


Playground complete with wandering chickens

The staff are a mixture of Montessori trained early years specialists, and experts in various fields who may not actually be qualified to teach. I think that the English teacher and I may the the only state qualified teachers there! Her subject is History, yet she's also teaching English and Maths, much to her own surprise.


The resident shetland ponies

They are so disorganised there that they sometimes forget to pay me. I always remind them though. They also forget to tell me about some children's special needs. I've been telling one girl off for not listening to me for several weeks now and only yesterday found out that she's deaf. {sigh}


A favourite hang out

On the plus side, they really care about the children who absolutely are treated as individuals. The kids are happy! Their exam results are unbelievably good, considering how scatterbrained the whole place seems to be, and they have an OFSTED 'good' rating. And of course, they chose to employ me, when no ordinary school would have had me, after a 20 gap in teaching service.

It's taking me a while to adjust to the ethos there, but I'm finally getting into the groove.

Leaders Need Support too!

Leadership. I'm so bad at it. Yet, time and time again, I seem to be thrust into leadership positions. It's truly weird to me, that people believe I am up to it.There is a definite disconnect between my own view of myself as someone needing SUPPORT and the view others seem to have of me, as someone with NO need of support. Which is just as well, as I hardly ever get any.

My poor family are used to the camera coming out at odd moments.

Here's an eg of the sort of thing that happens to me. Years ago, a friend comes to tell me that she had tickets for the Chelsea Flower Show and asks me if I was free that day. Now, this sort of thing NEVER happens to me, no one ever does anything spontaneous and nice for me. I couldn't believe it. Slowly, during the conversation, it dawned on me that she was going to take a mutual friend of ours and wanted to know if I would pick up all their children from school and give them dinner that day. THAT is the sort of thing that happens to me :-)

The past few months have been awful. First, we were told that Grace was not going to be able to progress to the Level 2 Child Care course next year, that's the qualification she'd need to be able to work in that field. Then, I could not, try as hard as I might, get any response from any of the organisations which are supposed to support people with autism, either government departments or charities. For weeks, I was banging on doors, trying to get someone to acknowledge us, or even return a phone call. Then I got flu and was weak and ill for weeks on end. (I'm still coughing.)

Two friends at church asked me what was wrong. At the end of the service, I blurted out all my problems in floods of tears. They were shocked and sad and prayed for me.

Hello?

A few days later, I got an email from one of them saying the two fo them were organising a birthday party for another friend at church who had 'had a tough time lately' whom they wanted 'to encourage' and could I buy a present, make some food and bring it along?

It's actually my birthday that weekend too. And I could use some encouragement. Pathetic, I know.

It's so hurtful to me, that it's actually funny. I don't blame these friends. There must be something about me that doesn't invite support and encouragement. Maybe it's the frown line creases between my eyebrows? LOL! Perhaps if I had botox people might care more about me? LOL again.

I'm the person people go to when they need a meal made for the woman who's just had a baby, when they need a babysitter, when they need someone to do some extra admin for because I 'have so much free time'. I'm the one they go to when they need someone to lead a project or advise or support others. Which is okay, I guess, but sometimes even those of us who have been designated, by others, as leaders need support.

So, when you next see that busy, efficient, smiling woman at church or when picking up your child from Brownies, in some sort of small leadership position, think about her, ask her what's going on in her life, see if she needs anything. Offer to pray for her. You might be the first person who has ever done that.

Small Steps Forward

After a quick trip to the shops and the 5 hours of teaching preparation, for 3 hours of actual teaching tomorrow, this morning, I had a quick lunch and got on with my domestic work. Sometimes, I get great pleasure from such things. Other days, they feel like complete drudgery. Today was a good day.


I love being able to see what I've stored in glass jars.

I washed and hung out 3 loads of laundry in the wind, re-potted 30 assorted tomatoes, sowed some more seeds, of squashes and unusual Italian courgettes, drank some of my own home-made lemon cordial and did some more weeding and watering. 

Ingredients ready for my green tomato chutney last autumn



We're still eating it with strong cheeese and home-baked whole-wheat bread.

Now, I am stuck at my desk, pretending to fill in forms and tidy up paperwork. This is my least favourite chore and I've been putting it off for almost two weeks. 

My first attempt at making ricotta

Grace has been fairly happy and self-contained today and Jack is revising hard at college. I hope. 

A gratuitous photo of Jack and Grace from last year

I seem to have run out of steam for the rest of my work: paperwork, phone calls and actually making dinner. Perhaps I need a reviving cup of tea and to do a bit of knitting and then I'll be able to face the kitchen.

By the way, this is me picking myself up again after a few months of feeling miserable and tired. We had two positive meetings about Grace's future recently, so perhaps that's why I'm starting to feel more positive again.

You Can't Commend What You Don't Cherish

"You can't commend what you don't cherish.........Where passion for God is weak, zeal for missions will be weak. Churches that are not centered on the exaltation of the majesty and beauty of God will scarcely kindle a fervent desire to 'declare his glory among the nations' (Psalm 96:3). Even outsiders feel the disparity between the boldness of our claim upon the nations and the blandness of our engagement with God."
(From Crosslinks' magazine November 2001 - Andy Lines)


Rehearsing on Sunday morning.

Whole-hearted worship, seeking to glorify God and encourage the congregation, in equal proportions. This is what we need to teach the next generation. 

Grace and Jack

Then they will want to share their faith with others.

Hospitality Crisis

As everything in life, my attitude to hospitality has evolved over the years. Years ago, I loved to have friends and family over for meals and visits. Then it became more difficult as the house we moved into was small and shabby and I had little generosity to spare.

It doesn't have to be a major production, like our Christmas Dinner!

There was one time when a friend came to visit, with her little boy, in the morning and stayed on until lunchtime. I asked her if she would like to stay for lunch, secretly hoping she'd say no. She said she'd love to.

At that time, we had very little margin in the way of finances and all I had planned to give my children that day for lunch was a marmite sandwich and an apple (between them!) I went to the kitchen and searched the fridge. Two hard boiled eggs. That was it. AND the bread was dry and going a bit stale. I made the sandwiches with tears in my eyes. I was so ashamed. My friend was/is very wealthy and lives in a beautiful, huge home. It was the ultimate in humiliation for me. I'm sure my friend saw nothing much wrong, but after that day I decided I just couldn't 'do' hospitality any more.

It could be as simple as a picnic in the park with one extra guest.

Except that I knew deep down that was wrong. Eventually, I forced myself to get going again. I tried to be more prepared, keeping things in reserve in the freezer and cupboards, so that I could be more spontaneous. All went well for a few more years.

In the last year however, I've noticed that I'm being reluctant again to have people over. It's because our house has been getting more decrepit and I am becoming more and more embarrassed about it again.

Hospitality also applies to ourselves. Making the effort to eat something fresh, home-grown or home-baked, makes us more thankful for what we have.

To cure myself of that, we've decided to open our home every Sunday afternoon in an Open House for older teens from our church. We usually have BBQ's or just loads of pizza on their laps, if it's raining, which has not been very often this spring. Fortunately, the young people don't seem to notice the half-painted bathroom, the worn flooring in the kitchen and the kitchen cupboards falling off their hinges. A home made cherry and almond cake seems to distract them very effectively from the peeling wallpaper!

One day, I'll get back to feeling able to accommodate adults, but for now, I feel like we're doing some important hospitality with minimal stress.

A Patchwork of Hours

In the schedule that started last September, I only have one day at home per week. The rest of the week is packed with driving people places, taking care of people, running errands, working, church, various groups, appointments and meetings. I spend that day with Grace and we work on cleaning the house and cooking skills together. Then, we relax to watch a film.

Because my time is so precious, sometimes I fidget and squirm during the film because I know how much needs to be done, but if I sneak off to hang a load of laundry or check emails, Grace scolds me and looks disappointed. So, I have learned to try to relax with her and enjoy the film. Usually, it's some chick flick which I can't bear, but yesterday it was Iron Man 2. It was okay!

There are borders to weed

Fridays can be somewhat stressful because I am training Grace the whole time, hopeful that one day she will be able to live away from home, with some social care support, which we just found out, this week, she'll be entitled to. However, most of the time, it's quite a companionable sort of day, which we both look forward to.



There is always laundry to wash, dry and iron.

One of the reasons for my discontentment, which I wrote about in a long post which disappeared the other day due to Blogger's problems, is a feeling I have that my time is not my own. The only chunk of time when no one is needing anything from me, when I can get on with something, is first thing in the morning. I choose to use that time to be at the computer, reading, writing, communicating etc

There are projects to tackle and books to read.

Next September is all change again. I'm hoping I can build in a couple of blocks of time at home by myself so I can get on with various home projects. Also, I'm starting a leadership course with the Baptist Union, in partnership with Regent's College in Oxford. That will mean academic reading, and writing essays (!), for the first time in 25 years. I'm looking forward to it, but also nervous about how I'm going to fit all the pieces of my jigsaw life together.

We're not sure yet what Grace is going to be doing next year, but it will likely be a patchwork of provision for her: a few hours of college courses, a couple of half days working with either an OT or a Social Worker on independence skills and a couple of days of supervised volunteering at a nursery. This is a way of her moving on with her life. I'm just hoping we can align our schedules in a way which allows me some time to move on with my own.


Growing My Own

I've always loved to grow fruit and vegetables as far as time, finances and soil conditions will allow. I got my first allotment, a parcel of land rented from the local council, 30 years ago. We had allotments on and off for years and our last house also had a very large garden.

Rhubarb, herbs and strawberries beyond.

The only time we were really unsuccessful was when we lived in Canada. So cold and dry  for so long and then so hot and humid. Unknown pests and diseases quickly took over and I had no idea how to combat them so I gave up!

Since moving here 7 years ago, we've had no time or money to invest in clearing, improving the soil and growing things.



This flower border is now where a huge, ugly coniferous hedge once was.

 Little by little we've been able to tackle small, very small corners. The back garden is cold and dark, being north facing, but we can grow raspberries, strawberries, herbs and somewhat successfully, tomatoes. Not much else seems to thrive there, though we keep trying.


Raspberries about to yield lots of fruit

I have had a bit more time this spring to get a few things sorted out in the garden, but not much money to invest, so it's still piecemeal.


Mint, chervil and saladings

I love to see terracotta pots at the end of the path!


This unromantic spot is positioned between two houses.

The bed on the right above is about 12 feet by 3 and populated solely by rocks and lily of the valley. I want to find some food plant which actually likes rocky soil and little light.

3 different chillies in one pot

I have crowded windowsills at the moment full of things waiting to be planted out.

Rather leggie tomato plants waiting for the risk of frost to pass. Almost there!

 Growing, cooking and eating something makes me feel more worthwhile than I really am! It's a satisfying part of my life.


Peppers, aubergine and other saladings

There's a lot of wasted space around this area. Just ripe for some guerrilla gardening

More herbs. Sage and lemon verbena.

What are you able to grow in your garden?

Discontented

I'm discontented.

I wish my life was different. I want to move forwards but I feel like I'm in a straight-jacket. Today, I have to drive to two different towns and take care of other people and earn a bit of money invigilating for an exam in the school I work in. I'd rather stay home and catch up with various projects I have on the go at the moment and ...think! I need some time to myself. A whole day home alone would be perfect.

The next few weeks look pretty full on though.

I'm finding discarded practice boards all around the house from Jack's Art exam prep.

Sometimes my brain feels like the scrambled mess above. I'd like it to feel like the rather smoother, serene mess below.

The theme for the exam was 'Mystery'.

I used to feel guilty about feeling squashed into a straight-jacket by my life, as though it was somehow 'unchristian'. I've learned that months of frustration like this usually precedes some significant change. Perhaps it prompts decision-making. Perhaps it's God's way of preparing me for change. After all, he created me. He knows how hard I've been finding my life this past year.


The sea is pretty appealing right now. Maybe if I just drive away no one will notice me being gone?

Perhaps these struggles of discontentment were part of his plan for me, just as the butterfly struggles and fights its way out of the cocoon? Well, I'm no butterfly, but I do think discontentment is nothing to feel guilty about, anymore. It's part of life. It shows I haven't given up.

Debt Free At Last!

Last month, Jamie and I became debt free for the first time in 17 years.

For us this was a momentous occasion, but I probably need to qualify that statement. We still have a mortgage. Housing costs, both rents and mortgages are so high in the South of the United Kingdom that only the most wealthy, or those whose parents die and leave them a substantial sum, manage to pay their mortgage off early. If we didn't have a mortgage, we'd have to pay rent, which would be a similar monthly sum to our mortgage.

We struggled to get back on the housing ladder and after 9 years of being in poor rental accommodation with a rotten landlord, we somehow managed to buy a house again. It was a leap of faith for two important reasons. The first was that each time we have bought a house in the past, we've ended up having to sell it a few years later for substantially less than we bought it for. Those were painful experiences. The second reason is that it was relatively late in our lives to take on a 25 year mortgage. Jamie was 40 and I was 46. {shudder} We will have this mortgage until I am 72 years old. A terrifying thought for parents of an adult with autism who is so dependent on us.

But still, if we hadn't managed to buy this house, then we'd still have rent to pay, much more insecurity plus, at the end of our lives, we'd have nothing to give Grace, so she could perhaps buy some sort of managed/sheltered flat.

So, given all that background, when we finally paid off that last £200 from the many, many 1,000's of pounds we'd been carrying as a burden for a decade and a half, it did feel like a huge weight had been lifted. In some ways, I am sure it would have been easier to have gone bankrupt all those years ago and begun again with a fresh, debt-free start. I certainly don't criticise those for whom this is their only option. However, for us, that felt like failure. Later, when we became Christians, it also felt wrong not to pay back your own debts. So, we did. Crown Financial Ministries recommends that the Christian who has to go bankrupt for legal reasons must also commit to paying off all his debts anyway, even though that might take the rest of his life. We had a lot of help from Crown's website as we studied what the Bible says about money and debt in particular.

It didn't take that long for us, thankfully. Paying our debt has cost us a great deal. It meant we had to raise our children in what some would consider very frugal circumstances. We couldn't give them very much and I was frequently embarrassed when I opened my home to others. Adults never said anything of course, but I remember a couple of funny comments from visiting young children that hurt.

'Where's the rest of your house?'

'Is your husband a woodcutter?'

I'm glad that we home-educated our children because they weren't confronted by the ordinary things other kids had and they didn't, on a daily basis. Money means very little to my kids and they are extremely unmaterialistic. This is a good thing.



Sometimes I feel like I have 3 children. Jonny often hangs out with us, especially at mealtimes!

I have tried many ways of contributing to the household income since having the children. In Canada, I tried child-minding, but with the way Grace was when she was little, it was too traumatic for all concerned. Later, I bought and sold baby things which helped for a while. Then I had a second-hand books business for a few years which earned me about £100 a month, but for that I had to work the equivalent of 2 weeks a month whilst I was supposed to be home educating. As Jack approached the crucial exam-taking years, I had to give that up. Now he's safely moved on to college and since Grace has also been at college part-time this year I've started teaching again in a very limited way. That is helping a little with the family income.

But the main way I have contributed to our finances is by just shopping carefully, cooking from scratch, mending clothes, hanging out laundry instead of using the very expensive to run drier, growing some of our food, making preserves, researching before a purchase and all those other traditional housewifely skills. When the children were babies, I used cloth nappies. In the last few years before the MentalPause I used cloth pads. I also did things like 'turning' cotton sheets to help them last longer. I shopped at jumble sales and car boot sales and charity shops.

Things are a little better these days and we can afford the occasional treat now, which it seems important for us to do while Jack is still living at home with us, so his memories aren't of total unrelenting frugality! Now, we've paid off the debt, we have started saving for the next car! It's 14 years old and on its last legs, so the need for that might come at any time. Jack is earning and saving all his money ~ good lad.

We are thankful that Jamie's job seems about as secure as anyone's these days, so we are hopeful that God will help us to pay off our mortgage, perhaps a little early, so we have less anxiety about that.

If you are carrying a debt burden, then please, do come up with a plan to get out from under it. The feeling of doing that is such an enormous blessing!

Back 'Home'?

Grace and I drove back to Chesham yesterday as I had a dental appointment there. It's where we lived  before and after Canada and feels a bit like 'home' to me as I lived there longer than I have anywhere else in my life.

Grace is remembering the paths we used to walk

 It's in the Chiltern Hills and Chesham itself is built on two hills that rise up from a narrow valley of chalk steams.


Lilac flowers

It's been a couple of years since Grace has been back and it is usually at Christmas time (in the dark) when we visit. She was captured by its beauty.


One of the chalk streams that flow through Chesham

I felt a pang of regret at our having to leave it seven years ago. Jamie and I bought our first house here together about 30 years ago. We could not afford to buy anywhere here now. The houses cost about £100,000 more here than in Bicester, where we currently live.


Right in the town centre

I miss the streams the brick houses, the flint walls and the views that come with being on a hill.


The stream flows from a spring with a very shallow aquifer, so it's low now, after the driest spring on record

 Being there brought back happy memories for us both.

A peaceful picnic spot in the beech wood

 If I was a certain type of blogger, I would probably write a short homily about it being so special to 'bloom where you're planted' etc. But I'm not that type of blogger. At least not today.


'You want me to stand on the table and put my hands up?'

 Today, I'm sad that we can't live here in the midst of such beauty. I think it's easier to live thankfully when you are surrounded by God's wonderful handiwork. And the results of the labour of thousands of years of farm workers, of course. This landscape has been shaped by Bronze Age farmers onward.


The most beautiful hills in the world to me

Grace said she would not like to live here again. 'It's too boring.' In reality, we need to live in or near a city to meet her needs in the future. It's not possible to move right now though.


A path less taken

I wanted to meander up this path, but it was time to leave.


Leaving the Chiltern Hills

Time to head back towards the Vale of Aylesbury, the long, flat, straight road through Oxfordshire and home.


The fields seemed greener than Oxfordshire!

Just a few more shots. I'm looking back. It's not really good for me, I know. I should be looking forward. Especially as I'm the one driving!


Lacy cow parsley

I do love this time of year. It's so lush in this green island, even after a dry spring. I do feel privileged to be able to live here.


The road to Combe Hill

 I've been thinking a great deal lately about living 'purposefully'. I hope to write a bit about that in the next few weeks. This trip back to Chesham has helped me to think a few things through.