Back again

After a much longer hiatus than I had expected, I'm back at the blog.  It's got a new look and a new focus, and I hope those of you who have checked in on it periodically might start again and maybe there are a few others who will want to come along, too.

I started this when we moved from the US to London, and never managed to keep up on the changes and challenges that we faced making that transition.  Four years into living here, it's become our life, not a change, so it makes sense to reflect that.

In the years since we've moved, life has carried on and my interests and avocations have changed.  I'm a knitter now and a beginning spinner, and I'll no doubt show you some of that as well as reflect upon it.

Another new pursuit is running.  I've taken it up to fulfill a promise I made last year.  My focus right now is to run to raise money for the National Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Children in a 10 K race at the end of May.  (You can find out more about that here: http://uk.virginmoneygiving.com/fundraiser-web/fundraiser/showFundraiserPage.action?userUrl=LindaRuns&faId=66295&isTeam=false).  I hope, though, at the end of my effort, I'll continue to build my running practice for both health and sanity.

So, here I am again.  My intention is to document my training runs (planned to be 5 times a week) and to offer a more substantial post at least once in the week.  We'll see how that works.  

I’ve been thinking a lot about joy over the past few weeks. It started when I attended solstice celebration. As a part of that gathering, we were all invited to take a card onto which the leader had written a word of blessing, or a quality of life that we might seek in as the light began to return. My card – a slip of paper, really, with swirls of pink and purple and blue – said simply ‘joy’ followed by a heart. In the darkness of the sanctuary, I closed my eyes as tears slid down my cheeks. Joy. Allowing myself to be shot through with the awareness of the preciousness of life, the beauty and wonder of the world. Allowing light into the deepest dark of the year. Yes. Joy was what I needed in that moment and following.

Now, in February as I write this, I’m seeing joy around me more, recognising it, holding and savouring it. Ann Sexton writes about joy in the ordinary objects and moments of her day. In ‘Welcome Morning’ she begins:

There is joy

in all:

in the hair I brush each morning,

in the Cannon towel, newly washed,

that I rub my body with each morning,

in the chapel of eggs I cook

each morning,

in the outcry from the kettle

that heats my coffee

each morning,

in the spoon and the chair

that cry "hello there, Anne"

each morning,

in the godhead of the table that I set

my silver, plate, cup upon

each morning.

Indeed this is where joy is best found: in the everyday and common moments of our lives. If we’re paying attention – really paying attention – joy can be uncovered in the smallest of moments. While I am seeing more joy in many places, I’ve been especially mindful of it on the daily walks to and from school that I do with Claire.

Most mornings, Claire and I set out from Isleworth and walk the mile and a half or so to her school, the Vineyard, at the top of Richmond Hill. This in itself is a pleasure. Walking the towpath that stretches beside the River Thames, we get to watch as it changes from week to week, note the birds that are swimming or flying, and, of late, see the sun come up as we walk along. Claire is often chatty in the morning, telling me her what has been happening in school or events of the day before, or what she is excited about in the coming day. Some of our best conversations happen whilst we are walking along. Even on the most gloomy of days, the walk is both satisfying and lovely.

In the afternoons, I pick her up from school and we walk down the hill to catch a bus home. This is where the joy shows through most clearly. Virtually from the start of our time here in Richmond, Claire has danced down the hill from school. She hops and skips, shifts her body from side to side, kicks her legs out in unusual ways, jumps and leaps. It’s more subtle than it sounds, but it is all in there. I’ve always been bemused by it, but lately, it feels more joy-filled. It took me a bit to get it well sorted, but I finally figured out that part of what Claire does is she watches the pavement we’re walking along. She hops over cracks, sees designs that she can make with her body and feet as we walk along, and is continually responding to the particular place in the world that she is at the moment. She’ll perceive a hopscotch pattern in the paving stones and begin to play: two feet out, hop on one, two feet out. When those pavers are gone, replaced by a different pattern of bricks or smooth asphalt, she’ll end with a flourish of some sort and watch for the next opportunity to dance along.

This is a joyful way of being in the world, this readiness to dance, to be present to this moment, to what is around us. I haven’t yet worked up the courage to let go and dance with her, though occasionally, I’ll jump or skip a little, maybe do my own hopscotch next to her. But it seems that the encouragement and the reminder is always there with me as we walk along.

‘Remember joy!’ say her feet as she dances over a crack in the pavement. ‘Dance through life!’ says her spirit as she turns and shifts, as she leaps along down the hill.

Joy, I think, is more a habit than simple happenstance. We find it when we are open to it, when we look to the world for its sweetness and pleasure, when we are attuned to the opportunities for delight and renewal. It also comes as a gift. Anne Sexton finishes off her poem:

So while I think of it,

let me paint a thank-you on my palm

for this God, this laughter of the morning,

lest it go unspoken.

The Joy that isn't shared, I've heard,

dies young.

May it be that we all speak of our joys with one another, that it may live within and among.

(A column written for my newsletter at Richmond & Putney Unitarian Church)

Our Big Trip

On Sunday 29 July Peter, Claire and I with panniers and rucksacks packed, helmets and gloves on, hopped on our bikes and rode off to the train station in Richmond to begin our first biking holiday here in England.




It was a first for us. We had initially planned to head out to the youth hostel in Alfriston (http://www.alfriston-village.co.uk/) by train and then use the buses and our feet to get around. A few weeks before we headed out, however, we got the notion to get bikes and the other gear we needed to do the trip riding our bikes. A visit to the national cycling organization told us that there were bike lanes and trails around where we'd be staying. We were all set.



As the day to leave approached, we were feeling very wary. The weather has been cool and rainy for over 6 weeks, and we worried that it would simply carry on, and we would spend our holiday wet and miserable. Thankfully, the day we left was the beginning of sunny and lovely days, real summer finally having come to England. A quick ride to the train station, and a hauling the bikes down the steps to the platform and we were on our way. We changed trains two times, and came to a small station in Berwick (said "bear-ick"), donned our helmets, gloves and safety vests and set off on the narrow country lane that led to Alfriston, about 3 miles away.




The hostel didn't open until 5:00 PM, so we had a little time for a visit to a restaurant for a pint and a bit of a snack before we settled in. There was Deans Place Hotel and Restaurant at the edge of Alfriston, just before we headed up the hill to the hostel, with a wide lawn on which people were playing croquet, and in we went. It's an old building, with ferns growing out of the roof.


Alfriston overall is best described as a medieval village, much of it built in the 14th and 15th centuries. It is surrounded by farmland: wheat fields, cattle and sheep. Tucked into a valley, you look up toward hillsides dotted with animals, or rich with grain ready for harvest. The air was clear and fresh.


We didn't realise that everything in the village closed down (other than the restaurants and pubs) at 5:00, so Peter rode the three miles south to Seaford to buy some wine for the evening. He came back covered in sweat and breathless. The three miles were down a steep hill and then back up a long slow climb before getting to the town. And of course, on the return, he glided down the long hill, and struggled up the 10% grade back to the hostel. As I said, he was sweaty and breathless.


Dinner at a pub was not our best choice of the day. It was a lovely old rickety building, and we sat in front of the former hearth of the inn, wide and still sooty from centuries use. Unfortunately, the kitchen was amazingly slow and we waited for over an hour for a salad nicoise with salmon, chicken breast with brie and bacon and an order of cheese garlic bread. It was a lucky thing that the food was very well prepared and delish.


Back to the hostel and to bed in our bunks. Claire on top and Peter and I across the room from each other on bottom bunks.


The next day we took to wander through the village and see what we could of the neighbouring countryside. Wandering through the village, we went into various shops, looking for postcards for family and friends, checking out a trendy cookware shop, another with a huge number of ceramic cats (much beloved by Claire), and browsing through a lovely bookstore (http://www.muchadobooks.com/). This last stop provided us with our itinerary for the day as the American born owners suggested a walk to the Berwick village church.



We stopped for tea at the Badgers Tea Shop and had scones and cream in the garden whilst writing our postcards.




Then we set out to the north, trying to remember the directions that the bookshop owners gave us. Just out of the village, we saw a sign for a public footpath through some woods. Up for an adventure, off we went into the shady and muddy path. After a bit we came to a fence that had steps to allow walkers over the top easily. Through a hay field, eventually there was another fence and a similar way over.




We walked along a road for a short way, and then found a path that lead us toward the church on the neighbouring hill. The way led us through a wheat field that had a narrow passage for walkers. Gentle hills rose on either side of us. The road was far enough away that the walk through the field was quiet, just the wind through the heads of ripe wheat. Oh, and Claire complaining about the wheat making her itchy and wondering when one of us would give in and carry her.



The church was nothing particularly special from the outside. Many of them look about the same. There is a mound just outside the church that dates from Saxon time, and inside the church there is a font that likely also came from the Saxons. Along the bottom of it, you can see grooves made by sharpening arrowheads. The side windows of the church were blasted out during the bombing in 1944, and they've been replaced by clear glass. Most remarkable, however, is a series of murals painted by members of a colony of artists who lived nearby after WW II. My pictures of them don't do them justice, so I won't include them here. Suffice to say that it's quite a lovely church (which can be just barely seen in the distance in the photo just above).




We wandered down the street a bit to find the single pub in Berwick where we sat in the lush garden and had a snack and a pint. Then we headed back into Alfriston where we visited the parish church and sat by the Tye (the green near the river) and read for a while.


On the way home we found another walking path by the river. The walking paths across the country are quite wonderful and unknown to us in the States. This one led through a few cow pastures with gates to get us in and out. On the gate posts, there were laminated notices that told us to keep dogs close or on a lead because it was calving season, and the cows can be easily provoked. It gave lengthy instructions for how to respond to cows in case they began to charge.


The river here is hardly more than what we'd call a stream most places, but it apparently was bit enough and deep enough 60 some years ago to have a mine float up the river to the town. Blessedly, it was found and disarmed before it exploded. Had it gone off in the town, there would likely be very little of the town left. The diffused bomb is now used as a collection point to help support the town.




Another night in the hostel, and we got up and going early to head out to Brighton, a resort town about 15 miles away. We had to catch an early bus, because the next that came by was 3 hours later. Discovering that the busses are relatively infrequent, we were glad that we'd decided to bring our bikes since it gave us some freedom of movement. For example, the busses to Berwick only run on certain days.




Brighton is a fun seaside town. We visited it twice when we were here last year. Claire especially loves a children's play area that has sand, playframes and a wading pool. There's also a historic pier with an amusement park at the end. As well, there are seeming miles of small, mostly pedestrian lanes that thread along up the hill away from the Channel. We browsed through shops for a bit before heading down to the water. The most interesting shop was one that focused on spirituality. What made it most interesting is that the owner really did cover most of the landscape. Bibles and menorahs were alongside Qu'rans and garrish Ganeshes. There were crystals and pagan stars, books about angels and numerology. It was really quite amazing.


We had a long and lovely day with Claire paddling in the pool, window shopping, and the pier, and headed back on the train. We shopped for food in Polegate (a town big enough to have a decent market right across from the train station), and headed home.



Cooking dinner for ourselves in the self catering kitchen in the hostel was great. We got a chance to chat with folks from other areas of England, Germany, Italy, France, Australia, and even America. Hostels, it seems, are increasingly the way that families manage to travel here where accomodations can cost £100 a night for just the three of us. By our last night, we'd become friendly with an family with 4 daughters aged 8 to 14, and Claire played with the girls happily for several hours while we learned more about England from their parents.



Wednesday was all about Claire. We biked up to Drusilla's Zoo and Park, a well thought out full day of adventure and fun. There's a small well designed zoo with a path that carries you past all the animal exhibits. There's a farm section, pets exhibit, meerkats, prairie dogs, penguins, otters and plenty of other animals. Once you're through the zoo, there's a large play area with fun and interesting play frames and other climbing toys. A bit further along, there's an inflatable slide, a place to "pan for gold", a sandy area where you can dig for dino bones, miniature golf and an inflatable bouncer, along with a wading pool. They also have the occasional kid's celebrity, and the day we were there it was the "Tweenies", characters from CeeBeeBees, the BBC kid's channel. While it wasn't the top fun for Peter and me, he and I got some good time to talk. Peter attempted to go to the English Wine Centre next door for a tasting, but for reasons we couldn't discern, they turned him away.


I left earlier than Peter and Claire and went into Alfriston to an ice cream and fine food shop that had luscious looking frozen fish cakes. I bought a few, along with some frozen Irish mussels, and then picked up some veg over at the other little market in the village and headed home. We feasted that night!


Thursday was our last day, and we headed out on our bikes anticipating a long ride through the countryside. It was overcast and cool, but still perfectly lovely. We rode south along a country lane (not wide enough for two cars to pass comfortably), until we came to the Seven Sisters County Park. Misreading the map in the forest section of the park, we set out on what was described as a family friendly bike path. It took us through the woods, and wound around from here to there. We kept thinking that we'd shortly find the Channel and the white chalk cliffs. Riding up a steep hill, speeding down the other side, we found ourselves on a road that led into the country lane that we'd been on an hour before.


After we found the visitor's centre, we saw the easy paved path out to the beach. An easy ride with a strong breeze off the Channel in our faces, and we were out on a pebbly beach, with cliffs rising above us. It was time for lunch, so we wandered down along the cliffs and spread out our towels and ate with the waves crashing in nearby.


Peter and Claire played in the rocks and around the cliffs whilst I read for a while. Looking out and seeing that the tide was coming in fast, and it was getting colder, we packed up and headed back to the bikes, and then back into Alfriston to read by the Tye again, do a little shopping for dinner, and head back to the hostel.



We finished up our leftovers, and then sat in the garden for a long evening of conversation and wild playing children. We slept well on our last night, rose early, packed up, ate breakfast, and rode to Berwick to catch a train to Clapham Junction, and then one home to Richmond.

We were home by just past noon, which afforded plenty of time to shop and get most of our laundry done before dark (a critical thing as we hang clothes in the back garden to dry).

Though both Peter and I are aware that we need to build up our endurance and aerobic capacity again (neither of us have been exercising enough since we moved), we were glad to have this small biking holiday and are looking at other possibilities for biking next summer. We even thought about riding the length of Hadrian's Wall (150 miles for those of you who don't know such things). We'll see.

The best thing about all this is that we would never have thought of doing such a thing in the States. Tied as we were to our car, it might have occurred to us to bike somewhere, but it was unlikely that we'd actually do it. Living here is giving us all sorts of new opportunities. It's good.

(We've uploaded other pictures from our holiday here: http://picasaweb.google.com/pdteets/2007Holiday?authkey=qRn2mTFkpnY)

Where did the time go?

Life has gotten busy and it amazes me that two months have gone by without a post here. Mid-April took the three of us off to the Annual General Meeting of the General Assembly of Unitiarian and Free Christian Churches, a lovely meeting in a lovely setting, though it was a little disconcerting to be at a gathering of Unitarians without knowing many people. Peter, as a member of the staff, was better known than I was, and that, too, was disconcerting. After that, it just seemed the one thing after another got in the way of getting here to update the blog. I promise I'll try to be better about it.

Our transition has been much more difficult that we had anticipated, and that's part of the reason for so little posting. Just getting through the days has been enough most days, and adding in extra tasks has been challenging.

One of our American friends here noted that everything here is just >---< this much off, it winds up taking an enormous amount of psychic energy to put everything to rights. We've been extraordinarily tired, and I think that's just the reason.

Even so, the shape of our lives is getting more form, and the rhythm of the days is settling in even better.

Some news and notes:

School Days

Claire is the most settled of any of us, I think. She is increasingly happy at school, and soaking up the culture and language like a sponge. Her accent is shifting, and she introduces us to new usages every day. She loves taking Italian on Fridays, and has sought in vain to teach a little to Peter and me. She has been known to sing Old MacDonald Had a Farm in Italian for hours at a time.

After several days on which the bus service has been erratic (one day we waited 40 minutes for to get on a bus!), Claire has taken to walking to school. For most folks that wouldn't be much of a change, I suppose, but the walk to school is between 1 3/4 to 2 miles, and takes us just over a half an hour to walk. Admittedly, it is a lovely walk almost all of it along the Thames. We watch the birds, and Claire walks along the top of a couple of low walls on our way. Still, a year ago, Claire wouldn't walk more than a block or two without demanding to be carried by one or the other of us. The change in her has been startling.

Induction Service

We celebrated my Induction Service at the Church on 9 June. It was a lovely service followed by quite a delightful tea with plenty of sweets and savouries to eat. I rather stumbled through it without a lot of information how they work here. It was nonetheless a splendid time, with a charge to the minister offered by my cousin Andy Backus who came from the States with his wife Chris. Having family in town made the event even more special, and provided us with a nice touch from back home.

To the Dentist!

We're starting to get connected into the health system here. We registered with a local dentist and all three of us are getting checked out. Claire's visit was about 5 minutes and involved getting her teeth counted, and a little plaque scraped off. They don't routinely do x-rays for children here. She goes back in 6 months for another check up. And all her regular care is covered by our National Insurance.

My visit was a little different. They did do x-rays on me (with the dentist staying in the room while they were being taken, and no lead cover for any part of my body), and made a recommendation to replace a filling. The NHS would cover a gold replacement, but since it would be visible, he suggested that I go with a composite which would cost nearly £500. A thorough cleaning would cost me £60. It is a little more expensive than I had expected, but the care seems to be mostly good, especially for Claire.

That's likely enough for now! More soon!

This and that

We're still getting back on our feet after being gone to the Annual General Meeting (AGM) of the General Assembly of Unitarian and Free Christian Churches (the GA), and still have Claire at home on her term break, so I can't catch up too much, but wanted to put on a couple of observations from today:

Overheard on the bus

An older man got on with us carrying a couple of bags, one of which had a bouquet of flowers. An woman around his age got on a few stops later and greeted him warmly.

Woman: Oh, lovely flowers, are you going to visit someone?
Man: I'm to the cemetery to visit my wife, thank you. (Said with a great deal of love in his voice, and a smile on his face.)

Observed at the Cafe at the Zoo

England is starting to have the same sorts of obesity problems that are showing up in the US. Here's an example of why:

Lunch for three children:

2 plates of chips (fries, in the US)
1 plate of chips and beans
3 pieces of cheese pizza.

Yikes!

I'll have another post up with reflections from the AGM and more news about how our gardens grow!

Easter face

We went off on another grand shopping day today. First it was to Kingston to look at sofas, buy some dishes and visit the farmer's market in search of asparagus.


We located our sofa at Marks and Spencer, a everything in one sort of store here in England. For more than we would have ever considered spending in the States, we bought a large sofa that will arrive in their warehouse in a month. It will take another week to two weeks to have it delivered to the house. We laughed when the saleswoman told us, and she was shocked that we would have expected delivery within a week or 10 days back in the US. She chuckled a lot during our interaction with us -- she told us that she found our accents charming, and Claire enchanting. We were amused by the whole interaction, and glad to have a couch on its way to us.


We bought two boxed sets of dishes -- four place settings each. At least that's what they were supposed to be. It turned out that one box only had three place settings. So we'll head back down sometime soon to return it for a full set. We're hopeful that our experiences with customer service don't continue to be challenging, and that the exchange will be handled without any difficulty. Keep tuned to see how it turns out.


The most fun of the day was that one of the mobile phone services had a woman doing free face painting outside their shop. Claire wanted to get hers done and it came out quite beautifully, as you can see. If it seems a bit difficult to tell, it is a bunny face, and she hopped away from the woman requesting carrots.


After a stop at home to drop off our finds, we were back into Richmond for a few last minute purchases. Peter and Claire went off to the farmers market to pick up a haunch of venison for our Easter supper, and I went off to do a little work for the Easter bunny. After finding a sweet mug with cats on it (that came with an chocolate bunny inside), and stoping at the market for a few household items (including picking up some Cadbury mini eggs), we're all at home having a bit of a quiet afternoon.


The house is still in chaos with piles of too much stuff, but we're finding our way through slowly and surely.

Happy Easter!

Stuff!

It arrived yesterday -- all the belongings that we had packed away on January 19 were unloaded into our small house. Peter and I both marveled that we had thought that we had sold or given away almost everything we had, and still we are overwhelmed by possessions. Right now it's a matter of figuring out where things go and how we find storage for all of what we kept. Honestly, it isn't that much, but spread out all over the floor of the house, it seems like it.



Claire is particularly happy to see all her toys and clothes. She has worn about 30 different pieces of clothing since yesterday afternoon. Every now and then she'll wander out of her room and will have on a different shirt or trousers. Once boxes of her things started showing up in her room, she would upend them and shake out whatever was inside. "I'm never going to be bored again!" she declared to us. If today is any evidence, she's telling the truth. All her beloved stuffed animals are being taught school today, earning stickers and writing their names with lovely handwriting.



Like Peter and I, she slept in her own bed last night. This morning she reported that she fell right asleep now that she's in her own special bed. Hello Kitty sheets and comforter made for the perfect night for her.



I'm overjoyed to have my kitchen back: my favorite cutting board, my mother's cast iron frying pans, my good knife, bowls and US measuring cups and spoons. And my cookbooks. I haven't longed for anything in particular these last 2 1/2 months, but it's good to know that we can make our favorites again.



Another great relief is to have my books and study back. As with everything else, I thought I had unloaded a great deal of my books. In fact, I think I did, but there were more than I remembered I had. Because we didn't want to have to deal with the boxes and paper that everything was wrapped in, the three fellows moving us unloaded everything to the floor after they finished moving everything in. So my books were strewn across the study floor and some are still in the living room awaiting my sorting out. I'll get to it when I finish writing here.

We still have some things to get done -- we don't have our everyday dishes yet, and need a couch for the living room. Still we are feeling increasingly settled in our new home.

Oh, and an update on the television stand. It still hasn't arrived, and since it's a Good Friday the business that is supposed to deliver it is closed.