O Holy Night

Christmas Eve was wonderfully relaxing ahead of the full-on onslaught of the following day.
I completed the task I began the day before, that of constructing and filling the crackers.

Unfortunately, the chocolate balls had a habit of escaping. Some rolled off the table and across the floor. DH failed to observe the one that made it on to a dining chair and sat on it, completely flattening it. Amazingly he never noticed that it was there. Evidence, if ever I needed it, that he is definitely not a princess! Baby wipes removed all noticeable traces of the drama. Alas, his pride was wounded, and somehow I was to blame for not failing to take adequate precautions to prevent the wayward confectionary from escaping and ambushing my poor unsuspecting husband...

In the evening we rang for the midnight communion at the parish church, which was resplendent in the darkness, with floodlights making sure that that the beauty of the stained glass could be appreciated inside the church. 

The oil lamps had been festooned with fairy lights, rather than filled with oil and lit. This meant everyone could relax, instead of anxiously monitoring the lamps for signs of unexpected combustion or struggling with the smoky atmosphere.

G1(aged 11) had volunteered to ring and did very well. We got the back four down at the end of the service, thus qualifying as ringing on Christmas day.

Christmas morning found us back at our local church, in a lovely interactive service. G4 (aged 5) and G5 (aged 3) had bikes, which they triumphantly rode down the aisle, in a way that was vaguely reminiscent of Jesus riding into Jerusalem on a donkey. Lovely as the are, they lack the divinity and dignity of our Lord!

After church there was a brief interval before the grandchildren invaded. We began with eleven for dinner, and the gathering grew to seventeen by tea time, when the grandchildren's favourite relative arrived - their cousin once removed. S has the status akin to a celebrity, with G1-4 all vying for her attention, all wanting her to notice how cool they were. G1 was delighted to discover that she is now taller than S, despite being only half her age.

The day ended with a brief introduction to Exploding Kittens. The KHT was partnered with the celebrity relative. Everytime they did a preview and saw an Exploding Kitten card, the KHT would look absolutely horrified, so we all were in no doubt where the cards of doom lay! She will never make a good poker player!

His and Hers

Sunday. Was. Manic!

In the morning we had the nativity service, which the young people of the church not only acted out, but for the first time that we are aware of, they also wrote it.

Anyone is welcome to join in with the nativity on the day, and at 9:30am in the morning the KHT decided that she, too, would be a 'wise person'. She went on ahead while I ferreted in the garage for props. I found some gold fabric and a hobby camel, but no crown. That was stored in a box too high for me to reach. When I arrived at the church, the camel was greeted with great enthusiasm, however, the gold cloth was not required, as the cover from the sound desk had been requisitioned...

The casting was a bit uneven, with the younger girls mainly choosing to be angels, and the older one's opting to be wise persons. Only one chose to be a shepherd. Fortunately, some of the leaders had no qualms about sheep-minding, and a couple of members of the congregation were recruited to swell the flock.

Mary & Joe were played by siblings - who very effectively acted out the confusion and division felt, as the implications of news Gabriel gave to Mary, sank in. Simple actions conveyed the equivalent of several pages of dialogue, as with just the turning of the back and the lifting of a chin, Joe made his feelings VERY clear, followed by a swift and wholehearted reconciliation once Gabriel visited Joe and verified Mary's outrageous story, ensuring that they were both singing from the same hymn sheet.

After the service, I replenished the candles for the evening service and added more. It was going to be the sort of service where, the more candlepower, the merrier!
DH printed the service sheets, and I found some willing volunteers to read reflections.
Meanwhile, DH was searching for the cover for the sound desk, which was no-where to be found.
"I suggest you chase after L, as she has just left with a large bag of props. It has probably been picked up by mistake..."
Sure enough, the sound desk cover had been tidied away, along with costumes for shepherds and kings.

After a quick lunch, we headed off to Morrisons to collect the turkey. DH collected it from the front of the store, whilst I picked up some odds and ends. Each of us circumnavigating the supermarket several times whilst searching for each other.
"How am I supposed to find you, if you have taken the turkey out to the carpark?"
"I was only gone a few seconds, not long enough for you to notice.."
"Wanna bet?"

Next on the agenda was a quick trip over to the nearest Waitrose to collect our joint wedding anniversary/Christmas/Birthday presents to each other. Christmas is usually a time when I take the opportunity to supply my husband with brightly coloured socks (think Muppets or superheroes) cuddly jumpers, new shirts, things I think he will find useful - such as touchscreen gloves, fudge and assorted treats and any entertaining tat I find. Given his dietary uncertainty - which is looking more and more like lactose intolerance given his reactions, I found myself in the unusual position of making a confession I never thought I would make.
"It is Christmas in a few days, dear, and I haven't actually bought anything for you."
Given the stash of presents he normally gets to unwrap, he was torn between being disappointed at the lack of potential present unwrapping, and relief at the reduction in expenditure.
When he reflected, he couldn't think of anything he needed.
"I have been thinking, instead of buying each other presents, why don't we have an apple watch each instead." 
He was somewhat surprised at the suggestion, and at the earliest opportunity took himself off to do some online research. Any relief he felt at a potential reduction in seasonal expenditure rapidly evaporated. However, DH is a sucker for gadgetry and will have hours of fun learning how to use the new technology!

Having acquired our goodies we returned home, taking the opportunity to staple the service booklets, before departing to set up for the evening service.

After dinner, we finally got to play with our new toys. Woohoo!
I nearly leapt out of my skin in surprise the first time my mobile rang and my watch vibrated!

We will now be able to track each other around the supermarket, via walkie-talkie mode, regardless of the signal!



The good news is, as our wedding anniversary is just before Christmas, we could have our presents early! Happy anniversary?Christmas/Birthday, dear. We won't be repeating this in a hurry!

Weaving the image of Christ

True to form I am running slightly behind schedule with my preparations for Christmas.

Inspired by a tree silhouette stamp purchased from a craft show at the NEC, I have gone minimalistic on cards for friends, family and church folk.






This is the final one left in this series and has been reserved by big daughter.
With hindsight, I do wish I had taken more pictures of the cards before I sent them all!

The tree stamp was fascinating to work with, as each print was slightly different, and then, depending on which ink and embossed powder I used, each one evolved to create a unique image.







I had a very ambitious project planned for fellow bellringers, but true to form I ran out of time, so some got bell outlines, mounted on different textured backing papers. Any ringers who have not yet received a card, will not get a hand-made one, as I have succumbed and purchased a pack.

Meanwhile, the cards for the neighbours ready to post through their letterboxes.


Until Saturday evening I had not yet wrapped ANY presents! An intensive session of wrestling with brown wrapping paper followed.
Then came the moment when I realised that I had absolutely no idea where I had stowed one irreplaceable present.
Frantic searching ensued, but the present was nowhere to be found.
Several hours later I finally remembered where I had stowed it.
Phew!

Sunday evening was cracker assembly time.
Yes, I know this is a crackers idea,
but I resent paying any money for the rubbish that is available in the shops.
During the year I had kept a sharp eye peeled (to use one of the KHT's phrases) and purchased suitable items that would fit within the physical limitations of the cylindrical cracker centre.

Christmas cards are an opportunity to be part of a wider Christmas blessing.
If we only send cards to those who will return the favour, then all we do in create limited circles of co-dependence.
However, when we step outside these conventions and send cards to those who are on our minds, regardless of whether they will return the favour,
then we create a network of threads, which behind the images of penguins, wintry scenes, robins and snowmen, Christ can be seen.
If you receive a card from someone you have not sent one to,
do not panic,
do not feel guilty,
do not rush to respond.
Instead, stop and appreciate the fact that they cared,
and give thanks for the beauty of the thought
and feel loved.

I am absolutely rubbish at keeping track of addresses, so if my husband doesn't know where you live, you don't stand much chance of receiving a card from this particular branch of the family.
I suggest you just pick out an image that appeals to you from those on this blog

and accept it with our good wishes for Christmas and the New Year.

A Bling Thing

It is that time of the year
when illuminated bling brightens the dreary December darkness,
as households across the land hang their Christmas lights.

Our tree, complete with white lights,
has been in pride of place in the bay window since the second day of December.
On Saturday afternoon I decided to add the outdoor red berry lights to our display.

We had a set that I used to drape unartistically around our front garden at our previous address. Over the years the length had got shorter, as sections had died and been amputated.

Last year when they came down from the loft, we decided they had reached the point of no return, so a replacement set was purchased.

December 2018 was very snowy, and unsurprisingly, the berry lights got rather buried under the metrological whiteness. It was an interesting look.
This year I briefly considered positioning them so that they framed the doorway, before deciding that might give the wrong impression...

I took the lights outside, laid the tangled mass on the sodden lawn and spent the next 10 minutes or so slowly unravelling them. Fortunately, it wasn't raining.

This year's new acquisition is a set of illuminated card holders.
Before you get carried away with thoughts of medieval monks decorating ancient scrolls with ornate illustrations,
I will point out that this is a set of plastic clips to hang Christmas cards from,
each clip features a small led light.
The set comes with a remote control - enabling me to hide the battery pack well out of reach of any inquisitive grandchildren!
I unpacked the set,
and that was where the fun began.
Untangling them was a nightmare,
as the card clips could not pass over each other without snagging.
"I could always give them an almighty pull!" suggested the KHT helpfully.
"If you did that they would not work." I pointed out.
Finally, the set was laid out on the settee.
"Batteries!"
I sent a text to DH, who was playing carols in a nearby nursing home but was intending to go shopping on his way home.

Having sorted two sets of lights I decided to turn my attention to making Christmas cards as December is already a week old.
Handel's Messiah serenaded me, as I stamped and embossed in a variety of colours and the dining table slowly disappeared under a seasonal tide of paper, ink pads, stamps and embossing powders. Despite all the paraphernalia, I have gone for a look that is even more minimalistic than ever - in contrast to the decorations!

DH returned, minus the shopping,
as he had dropped in on the musical rehearsal in church on his way home.
Spare batteries were located and I checked that the card clip lights worked.
They did!
They actually looked better than I anticipated.

I love Christmas cards,
but finding a way of hanging them is always problematic. This was an effective way of displaying them,
without damaging the decor.
Result!

After dinner, DH departed on his delayed trip to the supermarket - a task he happily took on when he retired,
to my great delight.


Later I dug out some battery lights I had purchased a few weeks ago.
One was a necklace - batteries included. However, the holly spring set required batteries.
I sent DH a further text.
"More batteries required."

DH arrived back
and plonked the extra batteries
in what he thought was a space
in the middle of my card making.
Unfortunately, it was right on top of the ink pad I was using.
DH realised his mistake as soon he put it down,
and hurriedly rescued the pack of batteries,
but it was too late!
I have the evidence!

The Endless Cycle

The wash basket was nearly full, so I lugged the laundry downstairs and set the machine in motion on a dance with thousand revolutions, aided by allergy avoiding washing liquid.

After breakfast, DH, resplendent in trousers that would offend any washing machine, was busting a gut to get on with the day, but first, he had agreed to drop us in town.
I looked at DH and then took a second look.
"Your trousers are absolutely filthy!"
"They are the trousers I wear when I am doing odd jobs. I am hoping to get over the allotment later. Anyway, they are almost as clean as last time they came out of the machine!" he declares.
I look again, and really doubt this, but I was not going to pick a fight over laundry.
"When will you be ready to go?"
"Oh, I accidentally put the washing on..."
"And I suppose it is going to be another half an hour..."
"23 minutes"
During the next ten minutes, DH's impatience almost causes him to ignite.
Unable to bear the tension of waiting for the moment of combustion, I suggest that I leave the laundry to his tender ministrations and that we depart.

In town the KHT and I visit the poke stops around Church Green,
tour the charity shops
and visit various other establishments,
namely The Body shop, where the KHT lusts after toiletries and Smiths, where I swoon over stationary.
Our journeys briefly diverge,
as she chooses Waterstones over TKMaxx,
before we move on the Debenhams for lunch.
There are no egg sandwiches,
so she opts for Mac and Cheese - as far as I am aware this is a new dish she has added to her repertoire.
I had chosen a baked potato,
but noting that her choice also comes with chips,
I realise that I will be eating those,
and cancel my order.




At the cinema, the assistant doesn't ask us where we want to sit, just hands us our tickets. When we enter Screen 3, I understand why, as we are the only people who want to see Nativity Rocks on a Friday lunchtime.
As I anticipated the KHT loved it, Christmas, loud music and familiar songs. As far as she was concerned it was perfect. I appreciated the shots of Coventry Cathedrals, though I am not sure that she remembered visiting there, as it was a while ago.

Verdict - there were some parts that raised concerns re safeguarding, and I was a bit confused about why the Shropshire woman spoke with such a strong Welsh accent.

Conclusion - They all lived happily ever after.

As it was still light the KHT and I walked home, observing a dark cloud which stayed resolutely to the west and only deposited a few drops once we were in our road and almost home.

I walked into the kitchen, and immediately noticed the empty laundry basket abandoned in the utility. Surprisingly, the machine looked empty.
"Where's the washing?" I asked hesitantly. Surely he hadn't just carried it upstairs in his arms?
"On the line!"
"It's raining."
"No it's not!" DH looks outside, "Well, it wasn't a moment ago. Why are you taking your coat off if the washing needs rescuing?"
"Because I have just walked home from town and I am rather warm."
I go and retrieve the washing from the rain, which is now falling quite heavily. Every sock has been hung up separately. Normally they go on sock holders, which move from line (weather permitting) to airer to airing cupboard. I empty the dry washing from the airing cupboard, and put the washing retrieved from the line, in its place.
"How was the washing?" enquires DH proudly.
"Surprisingly dry. I need a coffee."
"Just add water.  It was waiting for you before you disappeared upstairs.
"The laundry needed sorting."
The shed roof is fixed." he announces with great satisfaction, "AND I put my trousers in the wash!"
I managed to contain my deep joy, but only just, consoling myself with the thought that at least I didn't have to mend the shed roof...

Which Joe?

Tuesday was the fifth and final week of the after-school club with Key Stage Two, which had been delayed a week for a theatre visit.
We had the last-in-this-series part of the story of Joseph, including the finding of the silver cup in Benjamen's sack and the arrival of Jacob in Egypt

Before we act out the next episode, we do a quick recap of the previous week(s) to see what they have remembered. We have been very impressed with how much they could recall.



However, having worked our way through Genesis 37, 39-47, we had rather exhausted Pinterest's suggestions for crafts relating to the story of Joseph, most of which focused on the first part of the story and the garment given to Joseph by doting Dad. Come on crafters, we need more activities and crafts relating to the rest of the story - there is so much more to Joseph's life than being a fashionista!

As we were unexpectedly doing the after-school club in December, we decided to go with Christmas themed craft activities for our final session.
Christmas crafts were much easier to find. We had a variety of illustrations to enjoy colouring, including an advent wreath and a mini nativity for them to make and take.
We made sure that they realised that the Joseph in the Christmas story is NOT the same as the arrogant dreamer / dream interpreter turned slave, whose life we have been following since early November.

Following a story, over the course of the five weeks the club runs for, seems to work really well.
However, for the Year Four children it was sadly their last ever 4UClub, as by this time next year they will be well settled in the next stage of their education. Since we first encountered them, we have watched them grow in confidence and understanding, as well as height! Hopefully, they will remember some of what we have covered!

Already we are looking ahead to the autumn of 2019 and thinking that the story of Moses would make a great follow on  - the baby in the bullrushes,
who grew up with a foot in either camp as a Jew within Pharoah's palace,
who killed a man,
was exiled
yet still led his people out of Egypt, across the Red Sea and through the wilderness.
Think of the fun we could have with the plagues and crossing the Red Sea...

Meanwhile back to school carol concerts/services and other seasonal jollities...

Malt Teaser!

"Raffle Tickets! I need raffle tickets!" I decided late on Thursday evening.
"Why?"
"Because children love raffles and I don't want to bring any lucky dip presents home. If I convert the lucky dip to a raffle, I am more likely to be able to sell out."

And so, on our way back from Compton Verney, where we had been to view the new Whistler exhibition (interesting but not my taste) we detoured to Tesco. It felt like half the town had also picked this moment to descend on the store.

I searched the stationery section for cloakroom tickets, but they weren't with the envelopes, where I expected, nor did they appear to be anywhere else in the vicinity.
Fortunately, there was a sales assistant shelf filling in the next aisle, just waiting to be annoyed by awkward customers asking pointless questions.
"Can you tell me where the raffle tickets are?" I enquired.

He looked a tad anxious as if I had just asked a question to which he did not know the answer, and led me back to the stationery section where I had been, but focused on the displays opposite.
"We USED to do them..." he muttered, examining some app on his phone to no avail.
"I will go and ask,"  he announced,
having failed to identify a location for this particular item of stock
and departed in search of greater wisdom.

Just as he rounded the corner I spotted them lurking on the bottom shelf.
"Don't worry, I have found them!" I called, hoping that he would hear me.
There was a pause, and then he reappeared back around the corner, and came to gaze in wonderment at the place we both looked, but both had initially failed to see.
It was a bit like that moment when you are reading a passage of scripture, and suddenly a word or phrase stands out in a way it never has before.
It certainly was an answer to prayer, because I really didn't want to go off on a massive search of shops in the vicinity for cloakroom (raffle) tickets at 3:30pm on a Friday evening.
If ever you feel that supermarkets are heathen places, I beg to differ, for the Holy Spirit was definitely present in Tesco's stationery section on the last day of November, and opening the eyes of those who were blind to the location of raffle tickets.

I wandered down the pizza aisle in search of a 4-pack of small cheese and tomato pizzas for the KHT, but the locusts had already passed by. I did, however, get the KHT a couple of scotch eggs as a weekend treat. I detoured via the seasonal aisle in search of some selection boxes, and found some £1 packs of Maltesers and added them to the stash I was carrying.

Having passed through the checkout, the KHT and I headed for the exit. I was carrying the goodies, as I had neglected to take a bag and wasn't going to pay for yet another.
A voice greeted us. It was the leader of one of the local churches was on foodbank duty.
We turned and waved a greeting, and then I found myself in an unexpected dilemma.
The following conversation then took place in my head.
"Should I give away the Maltesers purchased for the Christmas Fayre?"
"No, because you would be doing that in response to what you think that person might be thinking!"
"But what if he is thinking that I am a rubbish Christians, not supporting the food bank and spending all my money on boxes of chocolates..."
"If he thinks that, then he is being judgemental! 
He won't know if that out of the six items you are purchasing, four are to be given away, along with the other items you have already purchased,
or will he have any idea what you have given to the food bank through other channels."
"So you don't think I should give away what I have just bought?"
"NO, you have purchased the sweets and raffle tickets for a specific purpose. 
Stick to your plan and chill. 
He is probably thinking something else entirely. 
If he is judging you, which I doubt, then that is his problem, not yours! 
Don't give just to create a good impression. 
Give because God tells you to give. 
It may be awkward, but it isn't wrong."
It was a 1 Samuel 16:7b moment The Lord does not look at the things people look at. People look at the outward appearance, but the Lord looks at the heart.’

The KHT, the Maltesers and I continued on our way...