Perfect

"A man who was completely innocent, offered himself as a sacrifice for the good of others, including his enemies, and became the ransom of the world. It was a perfect act".

Mahatma Gandhi

Plan Bee

I'm not really an eco-warrior type. I'm too lazy if truth be told. But I am somewhat of an eco-worrier. I get rattled by reports and news stories about depleting fish populations and the devastating impact climate change is having on the beautiful polar bear.

But these kinds of reports can often feel very far from home and they rarely spur me to actually do something...again, pure laziness on my part.

But occasionally, I stumble across a story that brings it all home and forces me to take action, however small. Sarah Brown (the PM's wife) did a fantastic piece in The Guardian the other week about the humble British bee and the trouble it is facing as a result of the migration to England of foreign, aggressive species of bee. The much gentler native British bee is dying out, or at least it will if nothing is done to help it.

There have been a few campaigns mounted already ('Plan Bee' being one of them...I just love that name!) but it's possible for even the laziest eco-worrier to get involved too. Simply by planting a few types of herbs and plants that our little bee friend likes to spend sunny afternoons with.

So last week that is what I did, thanks to a trip down the road to our local garden shop.

Parsley, thyme, basil mint, oregano, african daisies...I got a whole range of things which are currently languishing in plastic pots and old metal tins on our kitchen windowsill and patio until I can get them re-potted.

I've already spotted a few friendly buzzing creatures hovvering around them, even though they're not in flower...here's hoping they keep on coming!

Help Save Bees

Plan Bee

'Our' Poem

I want to try avoiding sounding pretentious or smug when I say this, but poetry has been and still is incredibly important to me. I have read it in times of great sadness and stress and I have also turned to it to help me express some of my happiest moments.

Although I have previously studied it from a purely academic view, I prefer now to simply to read it, think about it and engage with it. I don't analyse structure or context. I try only to enjoy it for the message it conveys.

The poem below is one of my all time favourites and it is really special to me. Lots of couples have a special song or movie that they consider 'theirs'. Hubby and I have a poem. This is it:

First Love

I ne'er was struck before that hour
With love so sudden and so sweet,
Her face it bloomed like a sweet flower
And stole my heart away complete.
My face turned pale as deadly pale.
My legs refused to walk away,
And when she looked, what could I ail?
My life and all seemed turned to clay.

And then my blood rushed to my face
And took my eyesight quite away,
The trees and bushes round the place
Seemed midnight at noonday.
I could not see a single thing,
Words from my eyes did start --
They spoke as chords do from the string,
And blood burnt round my heart.

Are flowers the winter's choice?
Is love's bed always snow?
She seemed to hear my silent voice,
Not love's appeals to know.
I never saw so sweet a face
As that I stood before.
My heart has left its dwelling-place
And can return no more.

John Clare (1793 - 1864)

Living Small: It's A Blessing

I've thought for a while about writing about our house. Not because I think it's a terribly exciting, stylish or interesting house (it isn't) but simply because it's a good exercise in contentment. One of my least appealing traits is a tendency to always want to move on to the next thing; be that the next book, the next pregnancy or the next house. I struggle to just stay still, enjoy life as it is and wait patiently for events to unfold naturally.

This can have a negative impact on those around me. The times when I've pestered Hubby with questions about moving house and decorating are the times when our relationship has been strained. He takes it personally, which is understandable. By focusing my attention on 'upgrading', I am basically telling him that I am dissatisfied with what I've got and I don't appreciate the hard work it took him to build the life we have now. Ingratitude is an ugly thing...and a sin.

So I am resolved once and for all to put aside all of that selfishness and really celebrate the little home we live in and the life it gives us.

And indeed, living in small house does bring with it a great quality of life. In fact, for a stay at home mother (or wife) a small house is an absolute God-given gift! Just think about it...

1. Housework. It's pretty obvious I suppose, but with a smaller house comes less cleaning, tidying and housework which means in turn more time to devote to our families, friends, hobbies and relaxation or quiet prayer time. And who could say that is a bad thing?

2. Consumerism. This can be seen one of two ways, but I've decided that for me, this is definitely a blessing. Less room has to mean less stuff. If all you have in the way of storage is a tiny cupboard under the stairs then you have to think carefully before making any big home purchases. Everything has to have a designated place. The up-shot of this is there is less to organise and less to tidy up. Which again, means more time for the things that really matter in life...

3. Creativity. Working out how to store all your kitchen appliances when you've got a kitchen that measures 40 square foot is a challenge but it forces you to think outside the box and come up with original and creative solutions. These in turn become the stamps of individuality that add life and interest to a home. After all, no one wants to live in a cookie-cutter house...

4. Money. Perhaps the biggest blessing that comes from living in a small house is the financial benefit. It takes less money to heat and air-condition a small house, mortgage or rental payments are inevitably less and less space means less to furnish. The potential savings are quite significant. A small house enables families to live more within their means which provides an enormous boost to quality of life and overall happiness. Study after study has shown that once people have enough money to clothe and feed themselves adequately as well as keep a roof over their heads without worrying about the where the next pay-cheque is coming from, there is no more happiness to be gained from having more money.

There may well be more positives that I just haven't thought of. Certainly when I began to really think about all the benefits of living in a small space, I realised that there were more than I first thought.

But the overall result of all of them is the same. Living Small can bring about a much greater quality of life. If paying the bills can be achieved without too much worry and strain and housework done with time to spare, then the stay at home wife and mother has that much more time to pursue her interests or just be with her family. I don't want to pretend that there aren't challenges; of course there are, in any living situation. And I know for lots of people, affording even a really small house can be a difficulty in this economic climate, but
right now, in this moment, I want to focus on the real pleasures and blessings that a small house can bring to the lives of those that live in it. I am lucky enough to be one of those people. And I thank God for that gift.

"Sing praises to God, sing praises: sing praises unto our King, sing praises".
Psalm 47:6

Living Small

It's nice to have friends in high places. But it's nicer to have friends in small places.

We are a family of 3 people and 1 cat and we live in a 2 bed 370sq. ft. home. Whilst I was pregnant, we had assumed that we would move as soon as we possibly could, thinking as we did that there was no real way we could raise a family in a house as small as ours. I lamented the lack of garden space, the steep stairs and narrow door frames.

But 7 months after our daughter's birth we are still here and not only that, but we are actually enjoying the challenges and blessings of 'living small'. It encourages us to de-clutter, get rid of things we don't need or use and to make do. A life with less material things means life can be filled with the things that actually matter; loving other people. And I have no qualms about adding another member to our family while we're here...in fact, I think it could be really fun.

That said, if Hubby walked in the room right now and told me that we were moving to a smaller place, I'd probably be reluctant, to put it mildly. I have the desire to live radically, but I'm just too much of a wimp when it comes to actually doing it. The spirit is willing...but this flesh is really weak.

But through some good friends of ours, I am able to glimpse a life altogether more small and radical than any I could envisage for myself. Hubby's best childhood friend and best friend to this day moved to Japan in his 20's. He loved the culture and having a knack for languages he decided to teach English as a foreign language over there. He met a woman, they fell in love and they married. A few years later came their first baby, an adorable little girl.

Prior to marrying they had rented a tiny apartment in one of the major Japanese cities. It consisted of a kitchenette, a shower room, and a main room divided by a sliding partition wall which was used for eating, socialising and sleeping. All in all, they had about 150sq. ft. at their disposable. Oh, and a tiny little balcony to keep a few potted plants on. When they discovered they were expecting their daughter, many Western friends and family naturally assumed they would move somewhere bigger. They were wrong. They stayed in their same apartment after the birth of their baby, embracing the Japanese tradition of co-sleeping with their baby on little tatami mats. Never mind a cot, they didn't have so much as a bed. Radical stuff to your average Westerner, sleeping in his double king-size four poster bed.

I often find myself thinking about them, wondering if they experience the kind of discontent with their surroundings that I can sometimes find myself selfishly harboring. But something tells me they don't bother with such nonsense. When they visited our home for the first time, back when Hubby lived here alone, his friend's wife was astonished at the amount of space...all these rooms, for only 1 person! Far from believing herself to be missing out, she expressed disbelief that anyone could really need and use a house this size.

This is such an inspiring attitude. And whilst our Japanese friend has the benefit of her cultural background affirming her views, it's not impossible for a Westerner to adopt a similar attitude, even in a culture which prizes materialism above pretty much everything else.

So I'm going to set myself a little blogging challenge. I want to write about our little house, about what it means to 'live small'; the difficulties, the benefits and what can be gained from it. We are committed to staying in our home until the right time to move, possibly even until we can pay off what's left of the mortgage. And so I'm determined to treat this place like my dream home and build the life we so want, one day at a time.

This online diary is the perfect place to catalogue this journey and to really delight in building a home that serves us as a family. Living Small is the way to go.

I can't wait to start!

Labour Pains

I have a chronic case of hindsight-itus. I daily recount to myself lists of things I would do differently were I ever to find myself in a familiar situation.

Childbirth is right up there at the top of my list. My first and so far only pregnancy (though I can't wait for number 2!) went swimmingly well, all things considered. The morning sickness was pretty chronic but once I hit 21 weeks it was all but over and Baby and I were really very healthy indeed. No varicose veins, no serious odema, no digestive problems...none of the usual maladies that pregnant women often face.

Very early on I had looked into the possibility of a home-birth and my obstetrician had agreed that provided all continued to go well, there was no reason I shouldn't have one. But as the pregnancy progressed and reached it's final few months, I changed my mind. I wanted the assurance of doctors and nurses around me. I wanted to know that if anything did go wrong and my baby was unwell, there would be no waiting for an ambulance and we could be attended to immediately. And although it's very unfashionable to say so, I am thoroughly thankful I gave birth to my daughter in a hospital.

Labour was like nothing I had ever experienced before. Sometime in the week between my last check up with the midwife and the start of labour, Martha had shifted position and she had her back facing mine. She was a posterior baby. The subsequent backache that ensued during the labour was so extreme and so constant that I don't even remember having contractions. The pain did not subside, even for a minute. I lasted for about 14 hours before I was given an epidural, at my own request. The pain was numbed, but the exhaustion went on. My memories of what happened in the final few hours are few and far between. I remember being told to push...so I did. I remember that happening only three times. Hubby informs me that I pushed for about 90 minutes in total and that my pushing was effective. Next I remember a woman, a doctor, asking me what I wanted her to do. I told her I just wanted it to be over. Hubby has since told me that in fact, there was a team of doctors who had been called by the midwife who was concerned by my escalating blood pressure. They discussed what they should do for about 10 minutes before finally, this woman stepped in and informed the others that she was 'going to deliver this baby right now'.

Finally, I remember her standing at the foot of the bed, there was a table next to her, there were some metal instruments on it. She told me I would need to push one final time. I did. And with that Martha was born...and I walked out of the birthing room with stitches and a bruised baby.

All in all, the whole thing lasted a not unreasonable 24 hours...of which I remember probably half an hour.

And like I said, I am thoroughly glad I chose the hospital route for my first birth. The experience was grim, for sure, but I strongly doubt I would have coped at home.

But next time, I want to do things differently. I made no detailed birth plan for Martha. I had no idea what I was up against. I decided going with the flow was the best policy. I read about labour but I deliberately chose to limit my reading to the physicalities of birth. The philosophies and politics surrounding it I largely ignored. But for my next baby, I feel ready to think more about the labour experience in a philosophical way, I want to arm myself with mental and physical strategies to cope with the pain. Now I know what I'm facing, I feel I can tackle it head on and really be mentally prepared.

And so I'm starting with a book called Childbirth Without Fear which is co-authored by Michel Odent and Grantly Dick-Read. I've heard good things about it and it seems Michel Odent is something of an expert on the subject...fingers crossed it lives up to the hype! There is a whole raft of literature on this subject, this book is just one of many. I have alot of reading ahead of me and a fair bit of thinking too. And since I do not know when I might become pregnant (Hubby and I are not 'planning' or 'spacing') or indeed if I even will, this journey could be a long one.

I realise as I am reaching the end of this post that there is no 'point' to it. I usually try (try being the operative word!) to wrap up my posts with a conclusion of some sort. But for this post, I'm a bit stuck really. Perhaps this is a good thing though. Labour and childbirth aren't the sorts of experience that can be wrapped up nicely in the mind and put away until next time. At least, not for me. For better or worse, my first birth experience changed me quite radically and it will no doubt inform my views on any and all subsequent labours. And I'm nowhere even close to getting 'closure' on the subject.

So I'll end this post as I do alot, with a quotation from Someone who knows just what to say and how to say it.

"Fear thou not; for I am with thee: be not dismayed; for I am thy God: I will strengthen thee; yea, I will help thee; yea I will uphold thee with the right hand of my righteousness".
Isaiah 41:10

The Domestic Church

"As the family goes, so goes the nation and so goes the whole world in which we live".

Pope John Paul II

Spring Saturday

I am full of the joys of Spring this week, as anyone who has been reading my blog or hearing me drone on can confirm (poor Hubby, he's heard about little else all week...).

But there is one thing I enjoy even more than a beautiful, sunny Spring day and that is a beautiful, sunny Spring Saturday! Yes, indeed. The weekend is here at last, we can kick off our shoes, forget our woes and head outdoors for some rest and relaxation.

And it's been a bit of an exciting Saturday for us here in our little corner of England for it is the first 'al fresco' lunch of the year and the first ever 'al fresco' lunch for Martha. I love to sit outside on a day like today, sipping tea and listening to the birds...with the occasional noisy car driving by (we are in a city after all!).

And when the weather turns really nice, I love nothing more than to throw a bright tablecloth over our patio table and plan a pleasant, summery lunch for us to enjoy in the sunshine.

Which is just what I did today, with these pretty daffodils keeping us company.......bliss........

Wishing everyone a happy, warm, sunny Saturday!

Martha's First Spring

Spring is my absolute favourite time of the year. The colours, the sunshine...I find it quite magical. And this Spring is particularly welcome, after such a long, hard winter.

It is also Martha's first Spring and I'm really keen to demonstrate to her just how beautiful this season is.

And so our little garden is already becoming packed with various kinds of flowers, shrubs and plants. But this year I have tried to bring a bit more of the season indoors as well.

A trip today to our local florist has provided our mantelpiece with the most beautiful dashes of Spring-time colour.

A perfect way to start the season.

And a perfect display to celebrate Martha's first Spring.

Home Sweet Home

Today is our second day back at home after our Easter weekend away. And what a weekend! We're still recovering from so much travelling, rich food and excitement. We're tired, sleepy and dopey. Sounds like a run down of Snow White's Dwarfs...

But that said, it is nice to be back home, especially now that Spring has really arrived and the place looks so green and colourful.

This afternoon I decided to relax and enjoy being in my own space again by getting out my sewing machine and trying my hand at a little something: a tea-towel. Nothing exciting. But it worked out well and the fabric is just perfect for Spring. It definitely looks at home in our sunny kitchen.

It's been a Happy Easter season indeed!