Hairgate

It is time you had a haircut says Teapot. Don't you realise I say that it is wrong to bald tamper?

My protests cut no ice and all she says is that my hair is already bringing me into serious disrepute, and in any case there is not a great deal to bald tamper with anyway.

The real thing is she is looking for a little reverse swing after 54 overs and some would say who can blame her.

So off I will go tomorrow for a wash, cut and blow dry. No skipping the blow dry she will say! At least they do not use a bottle top.

When I make the appointment they will ask if I want a particular stylist. I wonder if Inzy is free this Saturday.

diary of a teapot

Welcome to the world of blog!

Just what we need... a warming cuppa with just a touch of milk, no sugar, one sweetener.

Sometimes we will wait for it to brew, but it will be always fresh and never stewed!!

Find it via the link and add it to yours as well!

Bowled Over

Those of us who like the sound of leather on willow will remember the strange sight earlier in the year of a statue of Shane Warne moving through the streets of London.
His friends from Oz tried to put it up only to see it topple in front of their eyes......
.......prophetic we hope.....!!!

Warney was up to his tricks in the recent match with Lancashire. Just because the red rose wouldn't declare to suit him he tried a few bouncers, lob balls and the rest. Even threatening to forfeit the second Hampshire innings to prevent the Burnley Bullet alias Jimmy Anderson winding himself up for the upcoming tour.
.....methinks he is just a bit scared....!!!

.....but it made me think of that other statue toppling of recent times, and there is a curious similarity. Almost as if Saddam was forged bowling the Warney googly?!

Anyone else out there notice any similarities.....

Soaring

".....those who hope in the Lord will renew their strength

they will soar soar on wings like eagles..."

When Cath read these words in our morning service at church today they connected in a very special way with all that has happened in the last 2 weeks.

I have been wrung out and mangled as day has followed day. This small word hope however has been there and it is amazing how 4 letters can put together such a rich word.

But these words from the old testament prophet Isaiah are just the ticket. They promise new strength; for next week, for what was the routine but will take time to be routine again, and the level of commitment which every day life demands of me and all of us.

Yet these words also promise that those who hope in the Lord will also soar...like eagles.

I must say that "soaring" is a bit outside my mindset just yet, but I have seen so much of God in this time that nothing should surprise me....

Manuel Bravo

This is the Angolan asylum seeker who hanged himself just hours before he was to be deported so his 13 year old son could stay in the UK.

In all of this broken world this just leaves me speechless....or almost.

What depths of despair must have gripped this man. How does his son cope? Almost as important what does this say about our collective compassion as a country. Our leaders are spineless in the face of the tabloid ravings orchestrated by the little Englanders who are little more than Spode look a likes [Enjoy Jeeves and Wooster DVDs to get the full meaning of this]

What is sure we will be judged as a nation by the mercy and compassion we are willing to mete out to those who cry out for refuge.

I can imagine what Freelancenerd might say.......

a tale signifying?

"...............out out brief candle
life's but a walking shadow, a poor player
that struts and frets his hour upon the stage
and then is heard no more: it is a tale
told by an idiot, full of sound and fury
signifying nothing"

You may recognise these words written by Will Shakespeare some 400 years ago. Today we celebrated the life of El Pasto and what a contrast when listening to his tale related by his friends. His discovery and journey of faith, the reality of Jesus to him and his assurance of heaven and his place there because of the cross.

So I thought about reworking those 400 year old words and here goes:


"……………out out brief candle
life in all its richness, this player
who grasped his hour upon the stage
will go on being heard as time goes on; his a tale
told by his friends, full of meaning
signifying completeness"

cider cake recipe

4oz margarine
8oz brown sugar
14oz mixed fruit
8 fluid oz cider
1 teaspoon spice
2 eggs
8oz SR flour

put marge sugar fruit cider and spice in pan and bring to boil. Allow to cool. Add eggs and flour and mix well. Pour into 8" round baking tin and bake in the centre of the oven at three hundred and fifty degrees F [one hundred and eighty degrees C] for approx one and a quarter hours. leave to cool in tin. Keep up to 4 weeks before icing.

When my mother died I kept her Mrs Beeton's recipe book and found this recipe in her handwriting in the inside front page.

Odd really as I do not ever remember her making a cider cake.

Since I discovered it I have adapted it to suit [by omitting one egg and it is never iced. Some chance to keep cake 4 weeks before eating it!!]. We also only have oblong baking tins.

Cider cake is a big favourite with friends and work colleagues. I must have baked tons of the stuff....and it really goes well with a slice of Wensleydale!!

It makes me wonder what special surprise we will discover in these coming months about Freelancenerd as we try to come to terms with losing him, and how I/we can take on and develop that gift/idea/longing and use it to bless others....

.....one thing is pretty sure it will not be a cake recipe !!!!!!

Tales from the Tardis

Tales from the Tardis

My first blog!!!!

...and inspired by freelancenerd who is very special to me....special like Viv, Al, and Heidi and at the end of a week and following a point in time on Sunday 10 September and that terrible crash on the M6 when in the words of CS Lewis

"The term is over; the holidays have begun. The dream is ended: this is the morning......the things that began to happen after that were so great and beautiful that I cannot write them."

this is the reality now for him and his great friend Chris or to me El Pasto, a wonderful brother in our Lord Jesus.

For them both they now know what we cannot because no eye has seen, no ear has heard and no mind has conceived [let alone this peanut brain] what God has prepared for those who love him.

This was their entry into true reality

Yet I and lots more miss them. For me ....the chuckles, the belly laughs, the texts, the phone calls, the ferreting of freelancenerd in the cake boxes, his passion for justice for the have nots and the longing for the Kingdom of God to be built, his itchy feet..... his delusions about his likeness to Frank Lampard (!), and his excitement and hopes about the Ashes series this winter..........

So from time to time I will blog away perhaps with memories of him, or grunts about the things that meant so much to him or just anything else that comes to me now I have materialised into blogspace......

16.09.06