Sarah's mumblings

Misty Windscreens

2006-09-19T10:53:00.000+02:00

There is something up with my car.

Driving back from school run on one of the fresher mornings last week, I had put the blower on to try to warm up, pointless really, as by the time the car would warm up, I would already be home....... Well, I noticed how the windscreen started to steam up.... which is wierd.... I mean usually the blower unsteams the windows, doesn't it?... The worrying thing was that the steam seemed sort of dirty-ish....... before long I could barely see where I was going.

Now I know this is kind of obvious, but I still want to make the point that its ok if the car is dirty as long as the windows are not. I mean, you need to see through the glass properly in order to drive safely and find your way to wherever you are going.

In the end I had to switch off the blowers and open the windows, brrrrrr, that was cold.

Once home, I decided that if I wanted to continue to use the car, it was imperative that I do something about the steamed up windscreen. Out came the bucket, with cleaning products, water and cloths, and there I laboured for what seemed to be a long time.

It was not a comfortable or easy task, you have to get into awkward positions to wipe and polish all the car windows and some of those smears die hard. I dont like cleaning the house, and even less cleaning the car...... but it had to be done.

When the job was complete those windows were so clean it was difficult to tell whether they were open or closed (are you impressed with my housewife/carwife abilities yet?), and the next time I drove the car, I was able to see where I was going and the journey was a safer and happier one.

I think there's a message in there somewhere. Does anyone know what Im talking about?

Clothes and mobiles to a 7 year old

2006-09-18T23:58:00.000+02:00

Ivan (7) is a real thinker. And a talker. He could talk for England (not unlike his Mother). So he often does both at the same time, which can get confusing as the listener (i.e.: Mum) is supposed to be able to follow the train of thought and make appropriate sounding noises in the right places.

However, sometimes I really am listening, and occasionally I am lucky enough to hear some of his witty and bizarre conclusions about obscure details.

Well, today was one of those occassions. On the way home from playing in the park he said from the back seat of the car "Mum, the girls that like......... um,..... the girls that wear pretty clothes..... well they spend ages talking on their mobiles.
"Oh, do they?"
"I mean, the ladies that like to spend a lot of money on clothes so that they can look this way or that way..... well they are always using their mobiles..... but the ladies that dont spend so much on clothes, like you, Mum, well they dont talk so much on their mobiles".
Mum asks in polite tones, "Oh, dont you like my clothes very much then?"
Ivan ernestly (or not), "Yeah, oh yeah they are nice, Mum, but you dont like to spend too much on clothes."

Maybe this is all too mundane for everyone else, but I was highly amused.

Sorry, not at home!

2006-07-29T00:05:00.000+02:00

I know I'm slacking. Maybe September will get me going again.

Refreshing change

2006-05-08T23:21:00.000+02:00

This weekend the boys and I watched the new Narnia film. I noticed that Maugrim, the chief of the White Witch's secret police, had an American accent. All the other characters spoke with British accents.

I was very pleased.

Maybe I'm just really touchy, but the baddies usually "talk British", take Scar from the Lion King, for instance, so this made a refreshing change.

Caleb says...

2006-05-05T16:11:00.000+02:00

" Sarah?..... Sarah?...... um.... did you know that bottoms.... bottoms are made of jelly, did you know that, Sarah?..... because look they go like this (does squishy squashy movement with fingers)".

All I can say is, I wish my bottom was made of jelly, coz then I could spoon a bit off here and there.

A Tidbit of Wisdom from Mum

2006-05-03T22:00:00.000+02:00

"If you want your friends to be perfect, you wont have any."

5 Things I like about my Mum

2006-05-03T21:36:00.000+02:00

I wanted to write a post about my Mum for Mother's Day, which is the 3rd Sunday in Lent if you live in the UK (like my Mum), so that one is well overdue. However, Mother's day in Spain is on the first Sunday in May, so hey,.... I'm early, here goes:

Her hand on my head when I was sick.
Her patience when I was worried
Her funny little sayings.
How much she loved my Dad.
That "Mummy care" that some Mums take over things they do; taking up a hem, packing nice sandwiches, gently combing your hair, all those little details that show that you are loved and cared for.

Hugs and Blessings

2006-04-20T12:59:00.000+02:00

There are times when you need someone to reach out and give you a hug, for no particular reason and without having to ask. It’s comforting to receive that affection, even if you were too weak or tired to request it, even if your arms were drooping at your sides.

But hugs are so much better when you can hug the person back. When you’ve opened your arms wide in invitation – that’s how you get to soak up the full strength of the embrace.

****

Its nice when God blesses you, when he touches you unexpectedly without any effort on your part. I’m lazy so I’m always hoping for those kinds of blessings.

Sometimes it doesn’t work like that. Sometimes the blessing is there for the taking, you just need the courage to step forward. When you do, your heart is open wide and you can feel the warmth of His love.

Love is so much more intense when you participate.

****

Well, I’m guilty of cowardice.

My heart is lukewarm and my spirit is fearful.
I wait for God to move, yet all the time I’m stepping backwards.

Goals and Handbags

2006-03-31T01:42:00.000+02:00

A couple of weeks ago we had a get together with some friends, just Mums and kids - (sometimes its simpler without the Spanish husbands - who secretly want to skip "international socialising" anyhow).

Between us, Belinda, Julie and I have four boys and two girls. After modelling with salt dough, coaxing some lunch into the kids and banning footballs from the house after a disaster involving broken glass, we headed to the park to let them "run off some steam".

The park visit was not what I had envisaged...... You know the kind of thing, kids playing/squabbling happily, and Mums sitting chatting on a bench. Well that was not what the afternoon had in store for us.

Us three not-so-young-any-more Mums somehow ended up running off a little steam of our own when we got persuaded to join in a game of football.

This was no ordinary game of football, you must understand.

For a start, the pitch was on a slope, which gave one team a tiny bit of an advantage. The goalposts were jumpers and bags, which is fairly normal I suppose; however, the strange thing about them was that they were not opposite each other. That is, they were on opposite sides of the pitch, but in diagonally opposite corners.

Another oddity was the fact that the pitch was actually wider than it was long, which meant that most of the game seemed to take place behind the goalposts ...... and involved a great deal of manouvers to get the ball back onto the ridiculously shaped "pitch".

It was Kids against Mums and it was fun.

Patience was lost with the older players for stopping to stand in a huddle discussing personalities and behaviours instead of chasing the ball, but all was forgiven in a flash once we resumed play.

I remember jumping up with arms raised in the air to celebrate a goal, and I was not the only Mum getting excited. When Belinda agreed to put her handbag down and Julie got over "not being dressed for it", we actually put up quite a game .... a real match for primary school children.

Happiness is a swing

2006-03-13T21:08:00.000+01:00

Picture this: Its a fine day, the park is nothing special, a slide with bits to climb on, a couple of swings, with sand around for soft landings (??). On the swings sit two little schoolboys. They propell themselves higher and higher, looking at each other and giggling. Sometimes the giggles turn into shouts and shrieks. Then, all of a sudden they jump off and land face down in the soft sand, laughing incontrollably with delight, in that bubbly, infections, belly laugh that kids have, like water over pebbles in a stream.

Mind-reading

2006-03-06T11:18:00.000+01:00

This morning, while I was upstairs getting dressed, I could hear the boys conversing together in the living-room:

Ivan(7): I can read your mind Sam, I can READ YOUR MIND

Sam(5): Oh,........(clogs turning)...... What does it say?

Could someone please tell me what my mind says???

Ivan's Insights

2006-02-28T20:27:00.000+01:00

Tonite's bedtime story was Zoe at Fairy School, followed by Adam and Eve. It endcd like this: "...God was very sad. Now Adam and Eve would grow old and die. They would have to leave Eden forever."

Ivan said, "I think that garden..... Even .....still exists, and there is a secret path to it, ........... maybe we can find it."

Hmmmmmm.

OOooopps!

2006-02-22T12:44:00.000+01:00

So anyway, there we were huddled in a small group, testing our answers to the questions on the piece of paper. Someone read out a passage from Acts for us to think on....... "and they enjoyed the flavour of all of the people." I heard. It seemed so strange and yet the words stood out to me. Boldly, I shared with the group how relevant that appeared to me, as we are all of many different flavours in our church: different backgrounds, nationalities etc. All present nodded receptively, too polite to point out my error, I thought I'd made the statement of the day.......
Later, the same passage was on the screen for all to read................the FAVOUR of all of the people....... ....... Oh! I thought he said FLAVOUR....... never mind.

Hairy Solution

2006-02-07T10:36:00.000+01:00

Styling (or failing to style) my hair to fit a specific occassion, is actually fine. I dont think that I need to "solve" that. However, changing my character to suit others is less acceptable. It's deceitful, in that I am portraying an unreal me. In the long run it is harmful to myself.

The first step in this solution would be to accept myself . I need to be comfortable with the person I am. This involves accepting and forgiving my own faults - (could take a while - dont think Ill write a list!!).

When I can feel truly confident in my own self, then I will be less inclined to wear masks. Of course, without the right "hair-do", people may not like what they see - but at least their rejection or acceptance will be of the real Sarah. I wont feel like Im living a lie.

I long to grow into the person that God created me to be. The only way to allow that to happen is to be truthful to myself and others about who I am right now.

Hair

2006-02-03T18:21:00.000+01:00

I like my hair, most of the time,... when it goes right. I can wear it up. Pretend to be a schoolgirl and wear it in plaits, leave it curly ( which on a bad day means fuzzy), or straighten it dilligently with a blow dryer like the slim and stylish Spanish ladies.

Different hairstyles for different occasions, or for different groups of people. So I can think to myself when I get up - So what look am I going for today? - The decision would be made based on the people I will see that day. In other words, I aim to make my look acceptable to others. Which is all very well, but the trouble is that I tend to do the same with my personality. I tailor my character to fit the people I am with at any given time. This works fine...... it means that mostly I do not upset many people by the way I am and in general find I get along with most.

Its a good social strategy, but it has a couple of flaws:

I am completely thrown if I end up in a situation where there are different people who know different Sarahs, how should I act? which me should I be?

The other is that all these people do not really know me. All they know is the show I choose to put on for them.

and the prize to the most sincere compliment goes to:

2006-01-19T22:26:00.001+01:00

Nicolas Cady, aged "almost turning 6". His big eyes opened wide as he exclaimed, "I like your socks, Sarah, they are BEAUTIFUL"

(if you're interested they were the "glove" kind of sock, for wearing with flip-flops, and they have thick stripes with lively colours)

Two of my Dad's favourite silly poems:

2006-01-12T22:00:00.000+01:00

Dad was fond of reciting ridiculous rhymes to make us all chuckle, hopefully it will make you smile:

As I was lying on the green,
It chanced close by a book I seen,
"Carlisle's Essays" was the edition,
I left it lying in the same position.

Here lies Martin Eldinbrodd,
Ha' mercy on my soul, Lord God,
As I would do if I were God
and Thou were Martin Eldinbrodd.

2006-01-12T21:52:00.000+01:00

Joaquin, my husband, is Spanish. So our kids speak both languages and know exactly which language to speak with who.

Here is a conversation I recently had with Sam:

- When you get older, will you be a Grandma?
- Yes, I expect so, when you are a Daddy
- And then after that you'll be an Abuela?

Spanish Abuelas are obviously far more ancient than English Grandmas. Ha ha!

Outside the Box

2006-01-11T21:24:00.000+01:00

These days we are not taught to think outside the box.

On Sunday I was with a group of children in a Godly Play lesson. We were looking at the parable of the Good Samaritan. The program allows time for wondering together as a group about the parable. During this time I noticed how quick the kids were to jump to an answer. They wanted the possibilities to be right or wrong and were eager to move on. The impression I got was that they felt that they knew all the right answers - been there, done that, what's next?. They didnt even want to think or wonder about the story further.

At the risk of sounding like a boring grown-up, I feel that this may be a sign of the times. People want definite answers and they want them quick. Its yes or no, black or white, no need for further consideration, no room for wondering.

Silly quote

2006-01-09T22:13:00.000+01:00

While playing around making words this evening, Sam (our 5 year old) came out with "posh" - apparantely previously unknown to him. 7 year old Ivan holds his sides with laughter ... "You know what posh is, Sam?..... It's a type of language".

A glimpse into another family

2005-12-21T20:58:00.000+01:00

I love kids. My own and other people's. I often look after friends' kids, and enjoy watching them change and grow. Sometimes they tell me funny stories about things they've done.

I particularly like it when something they do gives me a glimpse of their family life. Today we had lunch with my boys school friends Joel and Caleb. They got round to singing in the car, which although I know sounds quite glossy is so often NOT fun - when they squabble about whose turn it is to sing and - " Oh you made me go wrong now!!!".

Today however, was not one of those frustrating, tear-your-hair-out moments. Joel and Caleb had all of us in stitches with their own tailored rendition of "Postman Pat":

"Postman Pete, Postman Pete,
Postman Pete and his stinky feet,
early in the morning,
just as day is dawning,
you can smell him ponging down the street."

Giggles gallore!

Now I dont know who "Pete" is. But I can just picture their Dad having great fun making up the rude rhyme.

Both boys knew the words off by heart by the way - so its obviously sung regularly!

Maltesers, eaten alone, just dont taste the same

2005-12-14T20:57:00.000+01:00

I discovered this fact during my stay in the UK. Bongo, who had obviously been reading this blog (even though she never left any comment - cheeky moo) turned up on our night out with a humungous box of Maltesers. Well I think we had a couple that night, but the rest I scoffed all on my own (bar a few the kids managed to scrounge off me).

Even though I love maltesers, and they tasted great - they just seemed nicer when I actually didn't get to eat that many, but had to make them last, because we only had a small packet between two. (OK so now you have a lovely graphic mental picture of me really "scoffing" my maltesers at double quick time).

So Maltesers are better shared.

Seems to me that this is true of so much in life. Good things and bad.
Share your joys and pleasures, - they become more intense and long lasting.
Share your friends - you get a sense of community
Share your problems and concerns - they get easier to deal with.
Share your weaknesses - they no longer cripple you.
Share the adventure of faith - it grows inside you.

As I write this, I realise that this business of sharing stuff is something Ive been learning for a while - I think its great - its certainly doing me a lot of good. So Thanks Bongo for the Maltesers, but next time dont leave me alone with the whole box - your presence adds to the crunch.

Funny quote of the day

2005-12-12T23:44:00.000+01:00

"I don't need to have coffee with Sarah any more, I can just read "Sarah's mumblings"."

Who said it? .. You can guess if you like, but Im not gonna say. He knows who he is anyway.

BFG

2005-12-12T23:10:00.000+01:00

Ivan is our oldest son (7). We have just finished reading Roald Dahl's BFG together. The Giant's view of humanity strikes me as being surprisingly accurate:

"Do not forget," the BFG said, "that human beans is disappearing everywhere all the time even without the giants is guzzling them up. Human beans is killing each other much quicker than the giants is doing it."

"But they don't eat each other," Sophie said.
"Giants isn't eating each other either," the BFG said, "Nor is giants killing each other. Giants is not very lovely, but they is not killing each other. Nor is crockadowndillies killing other crockadowndillies. Nor is pussy-cats killing pussy-cats"
"They kill mice," Sophie said.
"Ah, but they is not killing their own kind," the BFG said. "Human beans is the only animals that is killing their own kind."

................................

..................................

"I is not understanding human beans at all," the BFG said. "You is a human bean and you is saying it is grizzling and horrigust for giants to be eating human beans. Right or left?"
"Right," Sophie said.
"But human beans is squishing each other all the time," the BFG said. "They is shootling guns and going up in aerioplanes to drop their bombs on each other's heads every week. Human beans is always killing other human beans.
............................

...........................................

"Even so," she said, defending her own race, "I think it's rotten that those foul giants should go off every night to eat humans. Humans have never done them any harm."
"That is what the little piggy-wig is saying every day,"the BFG answered. "He is saying, "I has never done any harm to the human bean so why should he be eating me? ......................The human beans is making rules to suit themselves," the BFG went on. "But the rules they is making do not suit the little piggy-wiggles. Am I right or left?"
"Right," Sophie said.
"Giants is also making rules. Their rules is not suiting the human beans. Everybody is making his own rules to suit himself."

Missing the Mystery

2005-12-12T22:41:00.000+01:00

As Christmas approaches life gets busier (if that's possible) there are presents to get and wrap, food to buy, cards to send, arrangements to make, church services to attend, family to fight with over the menu for dinner .............. and the list goes on.

How did it get like this? From a baby being born in a stable, to consumer fever and obsessive traditions? How can we escape this?

Of course, part of me doesnt want to escape, I love the Christmas hype - decorations, presents for the kids, and I always want the kids Christmas to be the best ever, really memorable. When they grow up theyre gonna remember how great Christmas was at home, I think, so then I get myself into this shopping frenzy - making sure I have got them enough stuff to make their day exciting.

Recently we did a childrens' program at church that talked about the mystery of Christmas and how it can easily be missed. I think we've often missed it. I would love to not miss it this year. The kids Christmas would be so much more memorable if we took some time to just be quiet together. If we werent busy all day long with food preparation and tired from late night last minute present wrapping, we could actually have fun playing with our kids - and looking at their new things with them, we could enjoy their company - instead of being grumpy and stressed.

That sounds so attactive, doesn't it? ................. but somehow I dont think its going to be that easy to achieve.

Today I want to write about my Dad

2005-11-27T08:03:00.000+01:00

He loved playing games. As we grew up he taught us loads of them. Many an evening you could have found us four around the table playing cards, Monopoly or Diplomacy.

Chess was his favourite. He tried to teach my brother and I, but although we both learned how to move the pieces, neither of us had the patience or the willpower to get very far. We did enjoy playing with him though. It was special, a way of sharing his world.

Games are a great way of being together, laughing and teasing and whiling away the hours, enjoying each others company. They create a sense of family, and yet can make newcomers feel welcome and included, (even if they dont speak the same language, as in the case of Joaquin, my hubby).

Dad took games seriously, but he was always joyful while he played.
I think it was what he liked best,
playing with his family.

I miss my Dad
I still play his games
and so do my children.

2005-11-26T09:10:00.000+01:00

Blog Prob:

For some reason unbeknown to me the last couple of posts did not allow comments. Think Ive sorted it now. Sorry - I know there must be tons of people itching to leave a comment........well, maybe one person, but hey a little exageration doesnt hurt.

A friend for every ocassion

2005-11-24T23:02:00.000+01:00

Do you have a friend for laughing with? For me there is definitely one that springs to mind. Now, as fully grown adults we still cannot have a conversation on the telephone, because we laugh at/with each other too much to even speak. I know this sounds nutty, but I dont care.

Bongo is a high school friend who I met on the bus home during that terrifying first week. (To be honest I think the main reason she befriended me was because I was holding a packet of Maltesers). We have been friends ever since. (I try to keep the Maltesers flowing).

Because we were the only two from our class at school who lived in the same town, we would often meet on week nights after school, or at weekends. It took about ten minutes to walk from my house to hers so we usually used to meet in the middle and walk each other half way home. We had this silly thing where we would wave goodbye to each other every few steps until we were out of sight. This would cause explosions of giggles from both of us.

We enjoyed practical humour too. The kind of thing you can only get away with when youre a kid (bear in mind we had to wait almost an hour after school till the bus left for our town - we had a lot of time to kill - with no money - in not so sunny England). Here are some examples of our antics:

Pretending we didnt know each other : There was a big roundabout near the bus station, with a four way pedestrian underpass. We would start at opposite sides and then walk under the roundabout, crossing in the middle and pretending we were strangers - I think the idea was NOT to giggle (tall order). This would be repeated till both of us had crossed in all four directions, so we passed each other four times. What actually creased us up about this was the thought of anyone noticing two girls spending half an hour walking the underpass.
Walking quickly straight ahead close together with eyes fixed on some distant point (dazed look). Best done in busy shopping street. We enjoyed how everybody got out of our way - imagining that they probably thought we were mad. (actually ........)
Chewing gum trick: Spit your chewing gum as far as you can and then watch how many people tread on it.

We did also cry together. Both of us suffered unrequited love, commonly known as "teenage crush". It was the end of the world and we wallowed in it. Sitting in a darkened room listening to Nights in White Satin, we would rub our eyes and sniff sorrowfully.

I remember the day I left the UK for Spain. It had never occurred to me that our proximity could be temporary. She was one of the hardest people to say goodbye to. We cried and hugged for a long time. I was moving away from my soul mate. It was horrible.

As adults we have also cried together. There is such great comfort in a friend who knows your roots, who knew you before you put up walls.

They say friendships have to change if they are going to last. I disagree. My friendship with Bongo hasnt changed. If you truly know someone to the core, and they know you, then change isnt necessary.

The Other Side of the Gorge

2005-11-24T05:17:00.000+01:00

The other side looks pretty similar to the first side, except that the Mountains look even bigger than before. In fact, the closer I get to them, the larger they appear. Even though I know I am nearer now, with every step I take, they seem further away.

Snapshot of Dad

2005-11-23T20:22:00.001+01:00

He was a high school teacher, which meant that he nearly always wore a suit. Except when we went camping when he would get really casual and dress in shorts and t-shirt. He loved to play the piano, I have a picture in my mind's eye of him sitting at the piano playing a piece of music, while waiting for the other family members to get ready to go out somewhere, you would think all his concentration was on the activity in hand, but then suddenly he would break off the music mid-bar and brusquely stand up, "Shall we go?"

Which type of friend are you?

2005-11-22T20:17:00.000+01:00

Some friends invite you into their world.
Some come to visit you in yours.
Others will only meet you on the path in between,
no strings attatched.

Then there are the rare few who are capable of all of the above.
What about you?

Personal God

2005-11-22T07:07:00.000+01:00

I went looking for God,
I searched in my home,
I walked out in the hills,
I went to the Church,
I found nothing
the God of love was hidden.

One day I looked inside my own self and saw despair,
a vast hole begging a personal God who was not there.

A Step of Faith

That's a joke. A personal God? Who made the whole of Everything and yet still cares about one little human in a loving, intimate way?

This is wishful thinking. Enviable though it is to see a person claiming to be in relationship with God, that for me would not be a step of faith, but jumping the flipping Gran Canyon.

But,...................... there are people I know who are saner than me, better read and more informed, who trust in God with all their heart......................... so maybe it's not so unreasonable.

In time, after several different books and conversations, I can see that this must be true......... it makes sense in my head................ and yet part of me still sees it as fantasy.

How can I not believe? How can I not "talk" to the spirit of Christ if I clearly reason that he is alive?

Something was stopping me.

I was afraid if I truly trusted in Jesus and jumped off that cliff in a step of faith, ..................... that there would be no-one there to catch me, .................... because maybe there is no God, ......... and that would be a terrible thing to discover as fact................. I'd rather continue unsure, in the dark, but with my feet on the ground.

One day I stood on the edge of the Gran Canyon. Sick of my disbelief. Frustrated with my own cowardice. Longing to jump and be caught. Aching for it to be true.

I had visited this place many times before, aware of the possibilities of stepping over the edge, ...... to fall............or to fly...................... I had always turned back and walked away, frightened of the humiliation of having trusted in an illusion.

This day I stood rooted to the spot, knowing I had to step NOW or else my fear would drive me away....... again.

"DO IT NOW," said a voice inside me.

"You'll look pretty silly down there at the bottom", said another.

But embarrasment did not concern me now.

I knew I needed to get to the other side.

I lifted one foot off the ground,

instantly relieved,

something lifted me up,

carried me higher and higher.

How beautiful the world looked during our flight,
How awful never to have noticed that before.

When my feet touched the ground again, it was the earth on the other side of the gorge.

A step of faith?................... not really,............................ I was carried.

2005-11-21T21:27:00.000+01:00

Introduction

OK, I plan to use this space to vent. Also to clarify things to my own self. If anyone gets any enjoyment from reading my slightly scatty mutterings and mumblings, then all the better.