When a Wii is not cricket!

Don’t get me wrong, I’m sure Wii is succesfully joining families together over generations and miles, just not this family! The reasons are many and varied; traditions have become deeply embedded as the years have progressed and the majority of my family have remained firm novices when it comes to correct gift purchasing.
The ‘secret santa’ tradition of placing our names into a ‘hat’ and taking out the name of another family member in order to buy just one present every Christmas, began when my generation became adults and started having children of our own. We decided that £20 was a good sum of money in order to buy a decent present for each other and looked forward to unwrapping the ‘family’ gift every year.
From the outset it became evident that certain members of the family were easier to buy for than others. The ones who didn’t specify a gift choice would inevitably end up with traditional and obvious types of pressies. Socks and aftershave for the men and scarves and perfume for the ladies. The more difficult to please and choosy members of the family became the ones everyone would groan over and the ones you hoped you wouldn’t end up with. The fact this was all kept secret from each other left for much deliberation and leg pulling.
2009 has been one of the most notable of family ‘secret santa’ efforts. A number of things have dawned on us – firstly, £20 is nowhere near enought these days to purchase anything half decent and secondly the family saga that has ensued signifies that it might be time to re think the tradition.
The long suffering relatives who didn’t used to mind what they got have finally bitten back and have become the ones who now specify EXACTLY what they want every year. My husband has become one of these and decided that this year his precious £20 family present should be some water proof covers for his shoes for when he’s cycling. I think they’re called gaiters, (well that’s what I told the person who ‘secretly’ had pulled his name from the hat.)
I had given up being subtle in my efforts to find out what my chosen person wanted for Christmas. Cutting down on time and confusion I came straight out with the question- needless to say my person got EXACTLY what they wanted and was very happy with the resultant gift. My sister and brother in law on the other hand struggled to find ‘gaiters’. The cycling magazine hubby ended up with had the £20 attached with a note admitting defeat – they had tried and tried again only to be confounded by the notion of such things. (Annoyingly my brother in law had actually come across them at £30 a pop in a sports shop only to be told by another member of the family that these were not the sort because they didn’t reach his knees! (HIS KNEES!)?)
The brother in law threw in the towel completely however, when, on opening his family present, he was dismayed to see the title ‘Cricket’ across what looked to be a DVD. To contextualise his disappointment it might be helpful for you to know that on a previous Christmas the ‘family’ had given him a set of video tapes showing the ‘complete cricket test series’ (or something of that sort). Although graciously received at the time, I don’t think he ever got round to watching them! This hstory blinkered him to what might have been a redeeming feature in the fact that this was in fact a Wii cricket game and not the DVD he had initially thought, he went off on one about how he hated cricket and could think of nothing worse than cricket and that he no longer wanted to be part of the family!
So...we are potentially one family member short for next year, which, I’m sure you’ll agree, will mess up numbers. So.... I am going to tentatively suggest that for 2010 we think more creatively about celebrating our saviours birth.

Reviewing the year...

My Godson and his baby brother...

X factor final and our friends the Hatchers came for the second year running...must be love...our tv screen is postage stamp size compared to theirs!

Melody meets the new arrival and discovers she will come in very handy to have as a friend because she is 14 VERY soon and can legally babysit. (Though 4 boys between the ages of 10 yrs and 2 weeks old would not be for the fainthearted.)

The Viva team in La Paz treated us like royalty and made us feel very welcome.

Our beautiful translator Kattya on the right.

The Christ statue in Cochabamba is larger than the famous one in Rio and much more accessible!

The children in Refugio were a delight and full of joy. THere was much hope as these children were counselled and allowed to be children maybe for the very first time in their lives.

At the start of 2009 I had every intention of writing at least a monthly blog!

Life's been too busy to keep that sort of commitment and I find myself at the end of the year with too much to unpack and catch up on. Take the photo's alongside for example.....

Costa Rica, Bolivia, new babies, more fundraising activities, the X factor final....I guess this photo diary will have to say what I haven't time to.

Latin American travels of a mum and teenage daughter.

For those interested in such things there's an interesting dynamic to travelling on long haul flights with your children. We've been doing it since before babies had to have passports of their own and over continents and time zones.

Pre children of our own, my first experinece was taking my godson Ben on a flight to Switzerland. At 10 months he sat straddled on my lap and fell into a deep sleep cuddled into my chest. He was blonde and blue eyed and no one considered that he wasn't mine as I proceeded to lay a napkin over the top of his sleeping head and tuck into the meal provided by the airline. The friendly passenger to my left commented that I was obviously really experienced at such things and I felt it would be tempting disaster to apologise for having such a natural 'talent'.

Life continued to give opportunity for the practise as I travelled single handedly with a four and two year old across America and then to Uganda via Nairobi when they were six and four respectively.

As the girls have grown we have tried to tailor our trips to suit their personality and giftings and have the luxury of being able to take them individually. The younger daughter seems to have come off best, so far having travelled with me to India last year and recently to New York. Both long haul flights were a dream for me as this self motivated and avid reader used every opportunity to learn and take in every piece of information she could.

Our eldest has been poised and at the ready waiting for an approriate opportunity to travel and was finally thrilled when it worked out that she could accompany me to Latin America. At thirteen she is not at the easiest of ages to have to deal with long haul flights and changes of culture. Her memory of previous travel was hazy and her observations of airline and service were astute and comical. The first thing that grabbed her attention was the age of the cabin crew. She has a specific interest in cabin crew as she thinks this is what she wants to do when she grows up! 'Mummy, when I'm 50 I could come and work for this airline.' was her loudly whispered conclusion. I marvelled at her positive outlook and resigned myself to the fact we were travelling on what must have been one of the cheapest low budget airlines around!

Due to the fact our final destination was Costa Rica we had to enter America in order to connect to an onward flight. This was SO annoying as we did not want to be in America and would only be there in order to catch the next plane. It has been this way since 9/11. At this point patience was at it's shortest having travelled 9 hours. I needed to use the bathroom as we disembarked and consequently we ended up at the back of the queue for customs. This was too much for my thirteen year old and she flipped at the fact we were at the back. A very public confrontation followed which did not make for an easy wait in the passport queue and I became quite nostalgic for the days when I could simply stick a napkin over her head.

We've arrived and it's day two of our adventure....more to follow I'm sure.

Generating something...

Sometimes the funniest things happen at work! Working for a charity has it's challenges. Not least the challenge of funding the dreams and aspirations we carry; that every child has the opportunity to become all that God designed them be and to network and work in partnerships with others to help facilitate this.

In a recent effort to generate income our CEO and senior management were involved in hosting an early evening drinks and canape reception to meet some potential partners.

It was a warm day and on arrival at the allocated space at the top of an office block in central London, the blinds were down resulting in a dimly lit room.

Our CEO set to tackling the spring loaded blinds to let in some light. Within minutes we ended up with an overextended blind, which, regardless of all effort would neither open nor close! Attempts to fix it proved futile and the whole blind, housings and all, came pinging off the window frame and landed on top of us. As the room quickly warmed up to uncomfortable heat we soon discovered why the blinds had been closed in the first place. We were relieved to discover an air conditioning unit on the wall which saved the day and us from cooking, and began the next task of shifting the large conference table to the side, to free up space for 'mingling'.

By the look of the conference room table I doubt it had ever been moved before. It had wires coming out the middle with phone and internet access points and the three sections that made up the whole, had been screwed together with metal brackets. Unfortunately we were soon to discover that one part in particular hadn't been screwed in place! As we attempted the first shifting movement one of the table legs collapsed and clanged to the floor leaving a mid section of table precariously balanced. As I glanced over at my colleague, 7 months pregnant, I realised that we would need a little extra help. Our CEO came to the rescue and I was able to capture the humour and hysteria of the moment on camera as he and the pregnant work colleague climbed beneath the table in an attempt to fix the leg back in place.

I'm sure you'll be relieved to know that things did improve. The evening was enjoyable and people seemed warm to us. I do have a final confession however -As our guests arrived I had been tasked with being door keeper and welcomer. Strategically postitioned downstairs in the reception area of the office block, I was given a set of keys to lock the door once everyone had arrived.

When all guests had been directed to the top of the building I was finally alone in the foyer and began to think about locking up. It was only then, as I contemplated the height of the door and the position of the lock at the top of the door, I realised we had a problem. As the smallest member of the team I am somewhat vertically challenged and it occured to me that I would be unable to reach the lock unless I stood on a chair......... All I can say is I hope there wasn't a security camera around.

In Recovery

I'm in recovery! The year long programme to the World Weekend of Prayer culminated last weekend with my own involvement in at least three events over that weekend. It started on the Friday night when I addressed a group of bedraggled teenagers who had been persuaded to experience a sleep over in a back garden. The idea was to give them some idea of what it might be like to have to sleep in the 'open', as street children or such like.

OK! So it was wet and it DID rain all night and the temperature was COLD, but nevertheless I was bemused to discover that our 'tough' teenagers had in fact been molly coddled by the hosts of the experience! Starting with a bar b que and with full bellies, I watched as parents ran round inflating lilo's and putting up tents inside of tents! Electricity was relayed to the gazebo and ambient lighting was rigged! I was able to present a power point via a lap top and play music at the same time - such was the electricity supply!

The next morning the youngsters were helping with a Praise Party to celebrate the work being done with children at risk and to pray into issues facing these children. My concern as to how they might fare after a night 'roughing' it was short lived as I learned that they had been given, not only cereal but a cooked breakfast and had even had HEATING supplied to the communal tent!

The PRAISE PARTY was an experience itself. Those who know me will be aware that I like to help children be authentic in their faith and relationship with Father God. The prayer stations were thus designed to engage the most agile and physical of children, with a goal set at one end so that a ball could be kicked as children prayed for the Millenium Development Goals to be achieved. There were tents to climb in, birthday candles to be blown out and rubbish to be sorted through. (To name but a few of the activities to inspire prayer and inform the children about issues facing children at risk!)

As the event kicked off, within minutes I had cause for alarm. I had considered it an inspiration to cover the birthday cake in a serviette and place the candles on top so that as children blew out the candles they would not spit over the cake - leaving it possible to hygienically distribute at the half way point with a cup of orange juice. I really had not anticipated that the serviette might catch fire! As flames licked around the cake I was thankful that my precious husband had come to the rescue and I was relieved when he succesfully extinguished the flames, much to the amusement of the children concerned.

Believe it or not it was a special time and everyone involved seemed to enjoy the experience and engaged meaningfully in prayer. Hey ho....here's to next year!

A family affair

It's a red letter day! I finally completed the mosaic commissioned for a friends 60th birthday. I say 'I' and but actually that should read 'we'! It has been a hands on, all family affair across the generations! My mum kindly took us on a family break to Centre Parcs at Easter at the start of the assignment and spent a reluctant few evenings covering broken tiles with sticky back silver foil. I don't think she quite got it really. It's hard to see purpose in holding a piece of broken tile and spending a laborious 5 minutes drawing round it, cutting out the template and then sticking it on random piece of tile. She did well really. (At 76 she must also have been the only granny to score a strike on the first go when bowling! ) When all's said and done it was commendable that she survived a week with me, hubby and two teenage girls.

I'm finally happy to be emailing her the photo of the finished product. Admittedly it has been a challenging journey. My youngest daughter ended up sacrificing all her 'gold' covered pieces of tile, created in anticipation of her own masterpice mosaic. (Sorry Ella, I promise to replace them one day!) Her generous contribution helped speed up the process. When we finally had enough pieces to lay jigsaw like across the design, we then needed to lift, stick and grout every single carefully positioned piece. If you have ever been involved with kitchen/bathroom tiling you will know that this challenges the toughest of finger tips. The carefully positioned broken tiles ripped our fingers to shreds!

It's at tmes like this I am thrilled to be married to a 'completer finsher'. Hubby added the final touches of carefully prepared varnished wood as a frame around the sides and screwed in the necessary hanging wire.

This weekend we will be presenting the completed mosaic to our friend. Somehow I don't think he'll be aware of the blood sweat and tears that have gone into finishing this piece. but hey, he's deserving of every drop of blood!

Scars of Life

Here's something else that touched my heart - a friend emailed me this the other day -

"Some years ago, on a hot summer day in South Florida , a little boy decided to go for a swim in the old swimming hole behind his house. In a hurry to dive into the cool water, he ran out the back door, leaving behind shoes, socks, and shirt as he went.He flew into the water,not realizing that as he swam toward the middle of the lake, an alligator was swimming toward the shore. His father, working in the yard, saw the two as they got closer and closer together. In utter fear, he ran toward the water, yelling to his son as loudly as he could. Hearing his voice, the little boy became alarmed and made a U-turn to swim to his father. It was too late. Just as he reached his father, the alligator reached him.

From the dock, the father grabbed his little boy by the arms just as the alligator snatched his legs. That began an incredible tug-of-war between the two. The alligator was much stronger than the father, but the father was much too passionate to let go. A farmer happened to drive by, heard his screams, raced from his truck, took aim and shot the alligator.

Remarkably, after weeks and weeks in the hospital, the little boy survived. His legs were extremely scarred by the vicious attack of the animal. And, on his arms, were deep scratches where his father's fingernails dug into his flesh in his effort to hang on to the son he loved.

The newspaper reporter who interviewed the boy after the trauma, asked if he would show him his scars. The boy lifted his pant legs. And then, with obvious pride, he said to the reporter, 'But look at my arms. I have great scars on my arms, too. I have them because my Dad wouldn't let go.' You and I can identify with that little boy. We have scars, too. No, not from an alligator, but the scars of a painful past. Some of those scars are unsightly and have caused us deep regret. But, some wounds, my friend, are because God has refused to let go. In the midst of your struggle, He's been there holding on to you. The Scripture teaches that God loves you. You are a child of God. He wants to protect you and provide for you in every way. But sometimes we foolishly wade into dangerous situations, not knowing what lies ahead. The swimming hole of life is filled with peril - and we forget that the enemy is waiting to attack. That's when the tug-of-war begins - and if you have the scars of His love on your arms, be very, very grateful.

He did not and will not ever let you go. "

Mosaic

One of the remaining passions from youth is the love of doing creative assignments. As an ART student in the 80's I had the luxury of a degree course through which to channel my creative energies. Up to now, as a mum and foster mum who works full time, there hasn't been the time or space to indulge the flashes of inspiration that have come to me. Most of my creative ideas have remained firmly in the closet of the imagination.

It's been a delight to me that now the children are older they are encouraging me to start projects and are even volunteering their assistance. Encouraged by their enthusiasm and the start of a New Year I have now embarked on an assignment commissioned over a year ago for someone's 60th birthday.

With the best will in the world it has not been easy! I was hampered initially by the fact that when I brought the 3X4 hard board on which to start the project it was placed in the garage to await the moment of inspiration when I would begin. A year on, the rectangle of hard board had begun to warp through being in the cold and damp and the laminate was separating! Undetered I reasoned that I could glue it back and began the laborious task of transferring the design onto a grid through which I could copy the precise image. 2 hours later I stood back to admire the master piece when hubby came in and promptly informed me that there was NO WAY you could glue back the hard board and that it was beyond repair.

The good news is that once in the frame of mind for this sort of thing, determination sets in and there's no stopping me. I immediately left for the timber yard and purchased a new piece of hard board. Happily the transference of the image was a lot quicker this time and the project can get underway. (That's once I have encouraged the girls to do the time consuming work of covering 100's of pieces of broken tiles with sticky back silver, did I mention that?)

The strategic placement of broken tiles is the next part of the process and then who knows, maybe it'll be ready as a 70th birthday commission!