Saturday 29th December - Have-a-go day

Yesterday we went out in the horrible, cold, wet, dank, dreary, rainy afternoon, and drove through the dusk to an art shop. I was on a quest for Derwent Artbars, which I thought might be a way back into art for my mother, and also because I wanted to trry them as a way into art for myself.

 

As well as the artbars, I wanted to look at another Derwent product called "inktense"; bars (like crayons) and pencils, with water soluble inks.

 

The quest was successful; and I came home with an irresistibly reduced box of inktense pencils and a tin of artbars (for another post). 

 

Test the colours

 

 

Draw the outlines in permanent marker

 

Colour in the ground

And wash over

Colour in the sky

And another wash

 

 

And be very pleased with myself. I think I'll go back over the hedge line once the sky is drier and make it less sparse.

 

It's the kind of view that I have watched unfolding night after night as we slogged over to the hospital. Most of the journey is through trading estates, but one or two stretches have views of field and sky.

 

At the moment my mother has a bed by the window. The ground floor of the hospital is a kind of semi-basement, but the silhouettes of the trees against the sky that she can see from her bed is important for her.  

Christmas Day 2012 - Not quite according to the Master Plan

"Plans are nothing; planning is everything."  Dwight D Eisenhower

I always create a Master Plan for Christmas Day.

It is roughly based on the plan at the end of Delia Smith's "Christmas" cookery book - timings for turkey in, foil off, turkey out to rest for 45 mins, potatoes in, potatoes out, make the gravy, set the table, open the presents, blah blah blah...

The trick is to have several sheets of paper, a pencil, sharpener, rubber, and finally a biro all to hand.

You put in the fixed points;

9:30 leave for church
10:00 - 11:00 Church service (that was a guess as we have a new vicar - in previous years I would have added half an hour. In fact we gained 15 minutes at this point as the service was only 45 minutes long)
11:00 - 11:15 chatting with friends before we leave
11:30 back home

next fixed point:
2:30 sit and eat

from there you can work backwards and forwards working out what happens when, scribbling revised timings here, tearing out some hair, trying again, having another slurp of sherry - did I not mention sherry as one of the things needed for doing the planning? - going and making a coffee, and then, suddenly, the whole thing falls into place. Ink over the scribbles with a biro, write it out in neat, get someone to check it through. Done. The Perfect Plan.

This year's plan had to include visiting the hospital with smoked salmon before the meal,
8:30 slice and butter bread, top with salmon, add lemon wedges, pack pepper mill
9:00 choose and pack presents for opening at the hospital
11:45 hospital visiting hours start
12:45 home in time to take foil off the turkey - we were l bit later than planned for that, but it was fine.

We were going to eat the first course at our house, visit the hospital again at about 4:30, then back to my father's flat for pudding and more present opening afterwards.

9:00 am choose suitable presents for opening at the flat (get things done ahead if possible!)
3:45 make turkey sandwiches, prepare plate with sandwiches, mince pie, Waitrose stollen bites
4:00 pack mince pies, apple pies, jam tarts (the last two being a family tradition), Christmas Pudding, cream, brandy butter, rum butter, stollen
4:15 leave for hospital

The Master Plan ran like clockwork; perfect, every detail dovetailed. We even had a 15 minute breathing space early on, thanks to the church service being shorter than expected.

Perfect - until the electric cooker stopped working, fusing all the electrics in the house just I was taking the turkey out to rest. Now what? I stood and surveyed the par-boiled potatoes, par-boiled parsnips, frozen sprouts (actually, they were rather nasty and I won't buy them again), turkey stock to be made into gravy, raw carrots, ingredients for bread sauce all sitting in a pan...

Quick phone call to my father - "we're coming over in 10 minutes - could you put your oven on at 200C!"

While the turkey was being carved and put into a serving dish, I packed everything into containers and pans and bags, and we decamped with the whole lot to my father's flat.

And there we had a Good Enough Christmas Dinner. We had good food, and family, and fun, and we have the pictures to prove it. 

Christmas Eve - How silently, how silently

http://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Hirtenfeld_bei_Bethlehem.jpg

How silently, how silently, the wondrous gift is given...

by Philip Brooks; copy of MS of first verse
from wikipedia

The line I quoted comes from the third verse, my favourite in this carol. I don't think I have ever seen the fourth verse before. I've put all the verses up at the end of this post.

Last year, Advent was a wonderful time.

I followed the "Natwivity" on facebook, impatient for each character in the age-old story to add their posts. The shepherds cracking terrible jokes, the three wise men, called "Wise, Wiser, Wisest" discussing what to do next, the whole drama of what would Joseph do when he found out that Mary was expecting someone else's child. People could comment on the story as it unfolded, encouraging Joseph to "stay with Mary, it will all work out", capping the shepherd's jokes, booing and hissing everything that Herod said.

One of the blogs I follow, at www.ibenedictines.org. posted about the "O antiphons", which I had never heard of before, giving the text, a soundclip of the plainsong chant, and a reflection for each of them. (Actually, as I discovered, everyone knows the "O antiphons", but as the Advent hymn "O come, O come Emmanuel").

There was a brilliant BBC drama of the nativity story, broadcast in several episodes.

The Beatbox nativity was another highlight. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CyuzSzdpE38

On the non-religious side I had my wonderful Jacquie Lawson Advent calendar on my laptop, and a chocolate advent calendar.

Last year I was immersed in the whole Advent experience.

This year has been very different. I have been a week behind with the chocolate calendar at least twice. The advent candle has only burned down as far as 8. I haven't opened the Jacquie Lawson calendar for days and days - I have no idea where to begin to catch up. I am way behind with where the natwivity has got to in the story line, the O antiphons came and went without me, and when I finally made it to church yesterday, they lit all four candles on the advent ring in one go. Faith, Hope, Love, Joy, Peace? I have no idea what they represent.

All is not entirely lost: I have discovered this delightful version of the nativity, courtesy of Twitter:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TM1XusYVqNY

Christmas has crept upon me, how silently, how silently. The blessings of His Heaven are there to be seen, in the incremental improvements for my mother. OK, so her left side still doesn't function. Yet. But mentally, physically, emotionally - I have to admit that there is a long way to go. But if I look back, I can see clearly just how far we have come.

And if I waver at any time, I only have to look back at the photograph I took on the first day. I only have to see how well she was able to lift her head this evening, with proper control, and keep it steady in order to talk to me, when she was lying flat on her back waiting for the nurse to finish putting her to bed. I only have to hold her left hand, or massage her left foot, to see how much looser and more flexible the joints are. She can endure sitting in the chair for several hours now, she can cope with standing in the support frame for 15 minutes.

I have no idea how far along the dark streets we will be able to travel. But I can look back and see how far we have come.

 1. O little town of Bethlehem,
How still we see thee lie!
Above thy deep and dreamless sleep
The silent stars go by.
Yet in thy dark streets shineth
The everlasting Light;
The hopes and fears of all the years
Are met in thee to-night.

2. O morning stars, together
Proclaim the holy birth!
And praises sing to God the King,
And peace to men on earth.
For Christ is born of Mary
And gathered all above,
While mortals sleep the Angels keep
Their watch of wondering love.

3. How silently, how silently,
The wondrous gift is given;
So God imparts to human hearts
The blessings of His Heaven.
No ear may hear His coming,
But in this world of sin,
Where meek souls will receive Him still,
The dear Christ enters in.

4. Where children pure and happy
Pray to the blessed Child,
Where misery cries out to Thee,
Son of the Mother mild;
Where Charity stands watching
And Faith holds wide the door,
The dark night wakes, the glory breaks,
And Christmas comes once more.

5. O holy Child of Bethlehem,
Descend to us, we pray!
Cast out our sin and enter in,
Be born in us to-day.
We hear the Christmas angels,
The great glad tidings tell;
O come to us, abide with us,
Our Lord Emmanuel!

1698 de Bruijin View of Bethlehem, Palestine (Israel, Holy Land) - Geographicus - Bethlehem-bruijn-1698.jpg  wikipedia

Saturday 22nd December - The New TV

We have installed The New TV. It has a whopping great 32 inch screen, replacing our old 23 inch screen tv that we bought, oh, seven or so years ago. I remember someone saying "you'd better make sure you close the curtains at night - that's a HUGE screen you've got now and might tempt thieves " when we replaced the even older tv with the 23 inch screen.

This one has been positioned as far away from the settee as we can get, and gleams blackly at us when switched off. The first programme I sat and watched was "Masterchef"; Michel Roux's eyes mesmerisingly huge as he glared at the camera as he demanded "it must be PERFECT". I shrank back into the cushions and prayed that he could not see the ordinary platefuls of "mince-and-veg-and pasta" that we were having for supper, sitting on the settee n front of The Box.

I'm planning to launch a new TV channel (in my dreams) called "wallpaper". You will be able to choose from "cosy coal fire",

http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/wales/4461572.stm

 "wood burning stove"

http://www.directstoves.com/

 "aquarium",

http://www.worldofwater.co.uk/pages/Setting-Up-A-Tropical-Aquarium:-Introduction.html

"view from the train" (you should position your chairs sideways on to the screen for this one),

http://www.visitsouthdevon.co.uk/information-and-map/train-travel

Actually, I am procrastinating again. I still haven't done anything about sorting out the dining-room.

Friday 21st December - One Step enough for me

Lead, kindly Light, amid th'encircling gloom,
lead thou me on!
The night is dark, and I am far from home;
lead thou me on!
Keep thou my feet; I do not ask to see
the distant scene; one step enough for me.

I was not ever thus, nor prayed that thou
shouldst lead me on;
I loved to choose and see my path; but now
lead thou me on!
I loved the garish day, and, spite of fears,
pride ruled my will: remember not past years!

So long thy power hath blessed me, sure it still
will lead me on.
O'er moor and fen, o'er crag and torrent, till
the night is gone,
And with the morn those angel faces smile,
which I have loved long since, and lost awhile!

Words: John Henry Newman, 1833
Music: Alberta, Lux Benigna, Sandon Meter: 10 4 10 4 10 10

This rather gloomy hymn is a favourite from boarding school days. We sang it to "Alberta"; you can hear the tune played by a rather unlikely looking organist here:
 http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QkKLeZtRyJ8,

Sometimes, for example, when faced by trying to get ready for Christmas in a few days time, the distant scene is an impossibility, and taking life one step at a time is the only way.

Regular readers will know that I have an on-going battle with the dining room table. Well, right now, the dining room (and, to be totally truthful, our bedroom, and the kitchen, in fact, the whole house) is, to be short and to the point, a mess.

The to-do list is bursting out of its neat columns, items are adding themselves faster than I can tick them off.

So I'll give it all up as a bad job for today, and start again tomorrow. One step at a time. Till "the night is gone". 

Friday 21st December - Less is more

 

I have finally finished the school teaching and the piano teaching for this year - Phew.

I must admit that I cheated yesterday; I taught the same lesson three times, first to the lower juniors, then to the infants, and finally to the upper juniors, with slight variations;


the action/game song "My hat it has three corners",
http://www.themusicjungle.co.uk/live/2011/08/19/my-hat-it-has-three-corners-venetian-carnival/



then listen to Ronald Binge's "Venetian Carnival" (you can hear it here)
http://www.prestoclassical.co.uk/w/194111


and finally illustrate the story in the music; the carnival, party, brass band, dancing, fireworks, "fill the page with lots of colour and excitement, and yes, you may use Felt Tips".

The same lesson worked very well for each age group - they all enjoyed the singing game, especially when I added a competitive element "if you sing the word that we are leaving out, YOU are out and have to sit down".

"Colouring-in-to-music" is the most despised of all music lessons in the ofsted report on teaching music in schools. Hopefully I would have escaped censure by including "singing", "internalising", "listening with attention to detail", "using expressive language to describe music ideas", "aural recognition",  before "responding creatively to music" - i e colouring to music - at the end...

It was about all the children were fit for at the end of a very, very long term, and about all that I was fit for as well!

There comes a point where you have to cut yourself some slack. Enough will be an ample sufficiency. We are not going to be able to manage the whole home-made, Nigella-Delia-Heston Christmas this year; still, I have bought a turkey, and all kinds of goodies from the supermarket (it was almost empty at 5pm last night - hurrah!) and It Will Be Great. Like Patrick Stewart says as Captain Picard in Startrek, "Make it so".


I have no idea what kind of a Christmas occasion they will manage at the hospital, but we will do our best, and make the best of it. I have no doubt that there will be tears and laughter, smiles and sadness, but we will have a Merry Time.

As my mother said, oh, almost a month ago now, "we have been so very lucky".