"On and on and on"

Well, you guys finally got around to electing your President, and are we Brits glad it’s all over for another four years! You take so long over it, and take it all so seriously; as if it were a matter of life and death! As if it really mattered who is in charge! We chaps are much more cynical and (let’s face it), realistic. We believe that whoever governs, they are all just as bad. Nothing will really change. The real power is in the hands of multi-million pound corporations and big business. Presidents and Prime Ministers are nothing more than figureheads, with very limited influence. Why, we wonder, are you all so idealistic? Why do you continue to set such store by it all? To get so exercised by it? Have you not learned from past experience? And the worst thing is that we have been having chapter and verse of it for the past six months. It was beginning to feel as though we were the 51^st state of the USA; as if we didn’t have any news of our own on this side of the pond.

You see, we go about it all quite differently. And I’d like to bet (though I’m not a gambler) that you don’t get all our electioneering every time you turn on your TVs. Huh? No. I thought not!

Of course, unlike you, we’ve got Madge. (For the uninitiated, that’s Her Majesty).

And we elect Members of Parliament. At least, those of us who can still be bothered to vote at all. 

And then the party with the greatest number of votes forms the next government, and they elect their leader, taking account of the views of their supporters and, in the case of the Labour Party, trade union membership.  It all over in a relative blink of an eye, and with so much less fuss and who ha. And we don’t inflict it on you!

Anyway, that’s quite enough of that! On to more important things, and now your elections are over, to some unwelcome news which, for the second time this year is making headlines here. The weather. November has seen almost continuous rainfall, and many poor folk have had their homes flooded for the second or third time in a few short months. You may recall from my previous submission that the British summer 2012 was the wettest for one hundred years. Now we are informed by the Met. Office that November was Britain's wettest ever, with an average of 217.4 mm of rain across the UK. Some places had a whole month’s worth in just one day, and at least two people lost their lives in the flooding. The emergency services have been at full stretch, rescuing stranded people and pumping out affected houses. Thousands of people are now facing a massive clear-up, the prospect of being homeless for Christmas, due to uninhabitable housing, and the likelihood of being unable to insure their properties in future. The boffins have promised us a spell of cold, winter, but thankfully DRY weather over the next few days, but the ground is so sodden that any amount of rain in the near future will no doubt result in further problems. Roll on spring 2013.The sooner this year is over, the better, though it won’t quickly be forgotten. So you see, it’s hard to know what holds the record for going on and on the most. Our lousy weather, or your boring Presidential elections!

 Across the pond...Penny

Help from friends

 November's Cooking Light Lunch... See the Thanksgiving Plate

Last week I sent out an email requesting help with a recipe. I was  preparing dressing for Thanksgiving dinner.  I could tell something was wrong. To the rescue…Cooking Light BFF Ruth Anne.   Yes, add more chicken broth!   Yes! It works.  Turn off the computer. Later in the day, I turn on my computer. Ginny shares add chicken broth and butter. Becky… yes…. In the midst of the day, they took time to help me. 

For years, I would ask my mother for her recipe. I never got it right. After she was no longer available, I tried many recipes. This year, Jerry gently suggested I try a recipe he found.  This brings me to Thanksgiving morning and the email. Who do I contact in the middle of preparing a recipe? Cooking Light friends! Who do you call when you need help?   Who supports your efforts? Who is your prayer partner? 

Friends, Christie and Stan...
Wonderful friends who traveled to support my exhibit earlier this month.

Friendship Tea

Do you begin your day with a cup of tea? Or maybe you enjoy your tea in the afternoon. What is more comforting and relaxing than a cup of tea? My answer is to share a pot of tea with a friend.

On Tuesday afternoon, I enjoyed  tea and lunch with a friend. We lingered over our tea and salads.

Shopping after tea is always a good idea. 

The Best and the worst

We Brits are feeling pretty pleased with ourselves. We may be small, but we can certainly put on a show! First the Diamond Jubilee celebrations, then the Olympic Games, and now, the Paralympics. Even people not wildly into sport had to admit it was good. Folk were helpful, friendly and tolerant. The 80,000 (mainly) British supporters who crowded into the stadium each day, cheered not just for their fellow countrymen and women, but for all the valiant athletes who took part. They were fair-minded and generous in their support and admiration. The newspaper coverage was all positive. ‘The best games ever’. For once, I was proud to be a Brit. Yes indeed, the games brought out the best in everyone. Or almost everyone.

It’s a shame that such occasions can bring out the best, but sadly, the worst in folk. Take the experiences of my acquaintance, Anne, who was one of the volunteer ‘gamesmakers’, who gave up three weeks of the summer by performing all the necessary background, unseen task  to help keep things running smoothly. They had no say in what role they were given. Anne was assigned to be a driver, to ferry VIPs around the various venues.

“To be honest, I wasn’t too pleased to get that particular job”. She told us. “In my opinion, no-one is more important than anyone else. We are all equal in God’s eyes”.

But one small perk of being a volunteer was that she got to watch some of the events when time allowed. Anne witnessed the long jump for blind competitors. To someone with reasonable eyesight, it is almost inconceivable to think that anyone with near total blindness would be able to perform this particular event, and so Anne described to us in great detail, just how they overcame their disability with the assistance of guides and mentors. The huge crowd was asked to be quiet so that the athlete could hear his/her cue.

“It was truly amazing to experience that. The overwhelming noise in the stadium fell silent. You could hear a pin drop.The request was universally respected.”

 Then, these unsung heroes, the mentors and guides first positioned the athletes at the end of the runway, then stood at the far end, immediately in front of the pit, and with a series of claps, getting faster as the jumper neared the take-off point, helped indicate the progress up the runway, before stepping out of the way when the athlete hit the board and launched into the unknown.

“Such implicit trust in another.” Anne marvelled.”It was a most humbling thing to see.”

But then, there was the VIP……The BMW 5 series that had been allocated for Anne’s use was kept in the car pool. Each time it was taken out, it had to be security checked, and likewise, on its return. Most of the Olympic venues were within easy walking distance of .the main stadium, but to drive there was quite a different proposition, which involved leaving the pool, going through the security checks, driving a circuitous, one-way route around part of London, to re-enter the complex at the far side, on to the destination, then back to the pool and check-in.

Anne did this jaunt many times, and got quite used to both the procedures and that particular part of the capital city.

One evening, having arrived to take a certain individual to his venue, she was told she could hand over the keys, since he would be wanting to use the vehicle later. This was against all the Olympic protocol, so Anne had to tell him this wasn’t possible, and that she must return the car to the pool. And besides, the particular destination this time was, according to Anne, no more than 500 yards away, it was a beautiful summer’s evening, so not unreasonably, she suggested it might be more sensible to walk, rather than have to go through all the above. He declined and insisted on being chauffeured there.

 “I couldn’t help but be struck by the huge differences in attitudes, between the brilliant athletes, who had trained for years under the most trying of circumstances, probably at huge cost, their guides, who got no recognition for their vital role, but without whose help the long jumpers couldn’t function, and the self-importance of some people who had money, status and no such physical disadvantages. In situations like that, you certainly see the best and the worst in people!”

Across the pond... Penny

Searching for Self

One of my favorite hobbies is shopping.  Not just any kind of shopping, I'm talking high end shopping, handbags, shoes, jewelry, you name it, I have a love affair with all things fashion.  Yesterday I spent some time at the mall.  While at the mall, I had the opportunity to spend time with items from my favorite designers, Michael Kors, Coach, Gucci and several others.  I cannot explain to you the feeling of exhilaration that overcomes me as I pick up each pair of shoes, or carry each handbag.  There is something about finely crafted leather handbags and beautiful shoes that just draw me to them.  I imagine all things beautiful in my closet which has been designed to look slightly like a little boutique.  Every handbag on display.  The scent of channel #5 greets me as I enter the doorway of my own little retreat.

But, here is the question I began to ponder.  Beyond the handbags, jewelry and shoes, how have I truly defined myself?  As I continue to add to the collections in my closet, how have I further defined my life and my sense of self?  just how many handbags can I carry at one time?  Just how much jewelry do I truly need?  What is truly driving all of these purchases?  I call it a hobby.  But I am pondering, is it a hobby or a habit?  Do I do this for me or for others?  I am not certain at this point.  I know that I love fashion.  However, I am wondering how much does the fashion define me?

As I continue this journey into self reflection, I must be honest and say that I left the mall with yet another Michael Kors handbag.  It's Fall and for each season, I typically purchase a new handbag.  Oh, I'm not there yet, I said I am searching for self, I haven't completely found myself yet.  Maybe I am inside a handbag!

Summoned by Bells, (With apologies to John Betjeman)

Summoned by Bells. (With apologies to John Betjeman).

"Well, the 2012 Olympics have come and gone, and speaking as a patriotic Brit, I’m pretty happy with the way we chaps performed, both in terms of the sporting achievements, and the overall organisation.

To come third on the medals table to the two giants of USA and China was quite a feat for a small nation like us. What’s more, when it comes to the Three Bs. We can teach the rest of the world a thing or two. (For the uninitiated, I of course mean Bikes, Boats and Boxing). Yes, no one can hold a candle to us in the velodrome, on the water or in the boxing ring, and we’re feeling smug that we even managed to tame the weather to behave itself for the duration.

The Opening Ceremony was deliciously quirky, and fun, as was something you guys across the pond didn’t know about, but which typifies our eccentricity as a nation. And I’m talking about bells.

“Any Bell. Anyone. Anywhere. 08:12 27th July At 08:12 this morning hundreds of thousands of people across the United Kingdom rang bells to celebrate the first day of the London 2012 Olympic and Paralympic Games, in a mass participation artwork by Turner Prize winning artist Martin Creed, commissioned by the London 2012 Festival.

This unique London 2012 Festival commission is one of the festival’s biggest nationwide community projects. It offered everyone in the UK the amazing opportunity to be part of a work by a Turner Prize-winning artist and of the historic celebrations for London 2012.”

Big Ben tolled forty times that morning, too, so anyone hoping for a time-check would have been out of luck. And the only Brit ever to win the Tour de France, one Bradley Wiggins, rang the huge bell in the Olympic stadium, to signal the start of the games.

Even yours truly dashed out into me back garden (‘yard’, to you folk. By the way, a yard is something different over here; namely a paved or tarmaced area, usually without plants, lawns and flowers. A garden, however, has these.) Yes, there I was, in my housecoat and slippers, clutching the bell my husband bought me as a joke and dinging it like crazy for all I was worth.

Culture Secretary, Jeremy Hunt got in trouble as a result of his enthusiasm. He was paying a visit to HMS Belfast when the time came to join the communal ringing, and gave his small handbell a vigorous ring, only to discover that though the ship he was on board was the Belfast, his particular bell wasn’t fast. The handle remained in his hand, whilst the bell flew through the air, narrowly missing several bystanders. Having checked that nobody had been injured, Mr Hunt laughed it off, comparing it with an incident from a UK comedy called Twenty Twelve."
Entry by Penny...

Penny is the lovely lady on the left.
Picture was taken in 2007 at my home.

Back to school

I enjoy preparing for a new school year. One of the best parts of each school year, everyone begins with a fresh slate.  A close second… new school supplies… paper, folders, pencils, markers, crayons, binders, new classrooms, and new students…

Yesterday afternoon, I met students who will be in my classroom. Later in the day, I attended a community workshop, Empowering our Children: A Community Conversation.  I am happy to resume the comfort of school routines. I am back to preparing lessons plans, taking attendance, and reviewing homework.

This morning, I volunteered to pick up International Students at the airport.  The entire community is gearing up for a new school year.