Housesitter par excellence
I am getting good at this - maybe this is my calling in life? After housesitting for two weeks for one lot of friends, I am now housesitting for another lot of friends for the next two weeks. It's very nice to have my own space, but a bit tiring to be lugging my clothes around from one place to another. Also, in between all this I am chucking stuff out and packing boxes. Only another three weeks - in fact three weeks today I will have moved into my little flat in Peache Way! Wha-hey here's to my own space, after one and a half long years.
It's amazing how much you realise how you need your own space. This might sound like a pathetic excuse, but I even find it easier to pray when I know no-one can be potentially walking in or watching. And the prospect of having my own little flat, after so long of 'making do' - even though it was a lovely 'making do' with very generous people, and I couldn't have done what I did this past 18 months without them (thank you Audrey and George!) - so the prospect of my own little flat makes me nearly delirious with joy!
Funny how the little things can get amazingly rewarding - how our expectations shrink...I remember living in a five bedroomed house by a golf course with two cars on the drive and a couple of sunny getaways a year, and not finding anything about that amazing. And here I am, looking forward to taking possession of a one bedroom flat, and Christmas spent with my parents. Love it love it love it. Life is so much more exciting and tasty (if you can say that in connection with life...) when lived in an "attitude of gratitude"
And WHY is the 'g' in "gnome" silent??
Rhubarb
There isn't anything to say at the moment. So I'll say it - "anything". There.
I'm in No-Man's Land for these next three weeks. My life will consist of handovers (at work and church) and of sorting through paperwork (what to keep and what to throw) and other stuff (again, what to keep and what to throw). Other than that, I will make one to three trips down to Nottingham. Did you know that Nottingham is pronounced Nottingem, with emphasis on the 'g'? And why is the 'g' in 'gnome' silent???
It's sinking in
....slooooowly.
So in four weeks' time I'll be moving into college. Click
here to see what kind of college I'm going to and what kind of stuff I'll be doing for the next three years.
Now for packing, filling in (yet more) forms, winding up my job, saying good-bye etc.
I think at the moment I'm at the stage where I'm thinking "Oh dear what have I done?"
I'd like to stay in my nice safe job, with my nice safe church (and my nice safe God?) in a nice, known, comfortable environment...ok ok I think I get the message. It's not meant to be safe is it?
“Ooh,” said Susan, “I thought he was a man. Is he-quite safe? I shall feel rather nervous about meeting a lion.”
“That you will, dearie, and make no mistake,” said Mrs. Beaver, “if there’s anyone who can appear before Aslan without their knees knocking, they’re either braver than most or else silly.”
“Then he isn’t safe?” said Lucy.
“Safe?” said Mr. Beaver, “don’t you hear what Mrs. Beaver tells you? Who said anything about safe? ‘Course he isn’t safe. But he’s good. He’s the King, I tell you.”(from: The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe; C.S. Lewis)'Nuff said.
The Waiting is Over...
I just wanted to let all of you dear people know that the waiting is over - this morning Bishop Pete phoned me to tell me that the Church of England selection committee has decided to sponsor me for training for ordination in the Church of England. So as of the 25th of September, I will be studying for a Masters in Theology at St John's College Nottingham, then hopefully get ordained in July 2008.
Thanks for all your support, love and prayers
Day 1 with dog
Well. This might prove to be an interesting two weeks. I moved into my friends' house yesterday to do the two week housesitting thing. The dog greeted me with enthusiasm. I managed to find everything I needed and life seemed good. Until I decided to go to bed. This is one biiiiig house. And it's scary. I left the dog in the kitchen (according to instructions given) and went upstairs to my room. The dog didn't like it. So she started scratching at the door. Loudly. And whining. I ignored her (hard hearted me!). Finally, she settled down, with the odd scratching every now and then, which woke me with a start again.
I also started flapping last night. I was lying in bed, and obviously should not have had the coffee, so I couldn't sleep. Then I started thinking - what if? What if the CofE doesn't want me? How am I going to survive til Friday? What am I going to do??? Once I settled down (finally) the dog scratched at the kitchen door again. And again. She finally settled at around midnight, or a little later. I fell asleep, then at 2.45, a wristwatch alarm went off somewhere in the vicinity of my room. I mean, WHO in their right mind sets their alarm to 2.45 am????
Then the dog woke up and decided it was day - at 6am. She is used to that because her crazy owners go for a run with her first thing in the morning. I was certainly NOT going for a run, but I felt pity for her and got up (!!!), showered, had breakfast and took her for a walk round Tilgate Park. Very nice, too even at that ungodly hour (I'm sure God wasn't up yet either - or busy in Australia...).
So by the time I got to work at a quarter to nine, I felt like I had already done about half a day's work.
So far, the hamster proved to be the least of the hassles.
Excercise and dogs
I decided today that I ought to do some excercise. I'm not sure how long this marvellous decision will last (so far I have only decided, I haven't acutally DONE any excercise). But I have the best of starts - I will be housesitting for friends over the next couple of weeks, which includes dog-sitting. Meaning I will have to go out with the dog every day.
Did I mention that I want a dog? Some mixed one, not a pedigree. But I might have to wait a few years yet - having a dog at college might not work well. But who knows...
(Have you heard of the insomniac dyslexic agnostic, who lay awake at night wondering whether there was a dog?)
Three days later...
Selection conference is over. And all in all, it wasn't really the ordeal I thought it would be. The selectors tried very hard to make it a relaxed occasion for everyone, which of course is wishful thinking. But they were really nice, the other people were really nice, and I enjoyed myself. Which is more than I hoped for.
Two out of three interviews went surprisingly well - no hitches at all from my point of view. The third one left me feeling like a plucked chicken. Feathers everywhere and quite sore. Ironically enough, that was the pastoral interview, which is looking at character, relationships and leadership and collaboration. I don't think I did myself any favours in that one and couldn't really get myself across at all. But then, two out of three ain't bad. Also, talking to the others, they seemed to have had the same kind of problems in that interview, so maybe that's just the way that particular interviewer works.
The group excercise was exhausting - two hours, discussing different topics, with a different facilitator every time. Not sure if I made any friends in that one either, because once or twice I couldn't help but throw controversial statements into it. Oh well if nothing else it livened things up ;-)
The written excercise was to write a letter to a long standing friend, Jane, who just lost her husband, Ted. After writing the letter, I suddenly thought I had been calling the husband Tom instead of Ted (I hadn't) - that would have been a bit of a pastoral faux-pas...
Oh yes I forgot to tell you that the place we stayed in was an old convent, absolutely fantastic to look at, massive, high-ceilinged chapel, and lovely gardens. However, the pipes in that house were possessed. The first night, I heard a gurgling in the pipes of the sink in my bedroom, so I thought I'd be clever and put the plug in to muffle the sounds a bit. Feeling very satisfied with myself, I went back to bed. A little later, I could hear gurgling wich got louder and louder, eventually crescendoing in a loud POP! and the plug flew out of the plughole. At that point I decided the pipes were demonised and I needed to lay hands on. I half expected Moaning Myrtle to come floating out and complain...
If you want to have a look at the website of the pastoral centre where the conference was held, click
here
