My year with Rilke

This blog has inspired me, soothed me and refocused me more times this year than I can count.  Rainer Maria Rilke was an Austrian poet whose writing, even when translated, is more evocative and flowing than anything I have ever read.  

His is the quote that has influenced me so much I decided to use it as the subtitle for this blog.

"Live your questions now, and perhaps even without knowing it, you will live along some distant day into your answers."

His ability to take ideas which are everyday, normal, overstudied and present them in a way which is utterly new, perfectly formed and make you come to a screeching halt to marvel at the new perspective that you feel you should have been able to voice all along is incredible.  He can put into words the things most of us can only vaguely feel.

"And you wait. You wait for the one thing
that will change your life,
make it more than it is—
something wonderful, exceptional,
stones awakening, depths opening to you.

In the dusky bookstalls
old books glimmer gold and brown.
You think of lands you journeyed through,
of paintings and a dress once worn
by a woman you never found again.

And suddenly you know: that was enough.
You rise and there appears before you
in all its longings and hesitations
the shape of what you lived."

Book of Images - from A Year With Rilke

Thank you Lorenzo and Ruth for taking the time and effort to produce this blog.  It provides me with a well needed anchor to reality and an opportunity to get to know one of my most respected poets.

This is my passion

Me and Sally competing in a Novice obedience class

My passion is not cool and sexy.  My passion is not death-defying adrenaline-rushing action.  My passion is not world-changing activism or international superstardom.  To most people, my passion would be hopelessly dull.  But it is MY passion and I adore it.  My passion is training dogs.

I got hooked when I was 15 doing my Duke of Edinburgh's Award.  For the "Skills" section of the award I borrowed a rather unwanted leggy teenager of an unruly mongrel dog from the local pub and took her to a dog training club.  My intention was just to teach her sit and stay - help her owners out and get the silly box ticked for my D of E Award.  Little did I know how things would turn out!

The woman who ran the dog training club was a skinny chain-smoking slightly neurotic fiery ball of passion for dog training.  She did competitive obedience with her beautiful German Shepherds.  I saw the drive and the energy and the love the dogs and her had for their sport, and I wanted to get involved.  I trained Sally for months, then bravely entered my first Obedience show.  Unfortunately, Jen hadnt told me that you couldnt take treats into the show ring...and as she was used to doing things for food...she lolloped off out of the ring to try and find something more interesting to do.  I was devastated.  I cried tears of rage and embarassment.  But I learnt.  I learnt how much I wanted to be good at this.  And I learnt that to really train a dog, the dog needs to be motivated to play along for playing's sake, not for the reward of food or a toy.  Treats are great, but only to create love for the activity, never as a bribe.

So I learnt, and I trained, and I learnt some more.  Sometimes I had to break things back down to basics just to make the smallest of tweaks to her heelwork position.  But it started to click into place, I understood how she learnt, how she thought and how she moved, and bent my training style and my movements to fit.  And it worked, she started to win.  And we went on to compete in Agility and Flyball as well.  I even competed in the Junior ring at Crufts - the largest dog show in the world.  I also trained our rescue collie to work sheep, and provided a temporary foster home for several dogs, in order to rehabilitate them so they could find a forever home.

I am incredibly grateful to my wonderful Mum for all the evenings she drove me to training and all the shows she took me to, never once complaining about the hours surrounded by barking dogs in some rain-soaked field in the middle of nowhere.  

Sally will never be the best dog at anything...she isnt a border collie...the basic qualification for being the best at any canine event.  But she loves to work, she loves to get things right - and she works for workings sake.  To me that is the greatest achievement for me with a greedy labrador cross - she works because she LOVES it.  

Nothing builds the relationship between a dog and its owner like training.  I know her expressions, I can predict her responses and her emotions...and she can do the same with me.  For me to train her effectively, and for her to learn effectively, we automatically tuned into each other on a far deeper level than you normally connect with a pet on.

That sense of connection is what makes it my passion.  I love building that rapport, that unbreakable bond.  Im not one of those overly anthropomorphic people who attributes every human emotion under the sun to animals.  I know she doesnt love me like I love her, I respect her all the more for the tame wolf that she is.  I guess the whole training process entertains my inner psychologist, its like its a challenge to break a task down into components that she can learn.  There is more to it than that though, Sally is 9 years old now so we just go to training classes for fun really.  She doesnt compete any more so there is no need to teach her new things.  We both still love to go along to training and have fun though.  The sense of calm satisfaction I get from strengthening our connection is like a drug.  The more she learns and the more she loves it, the more I want to train her.  And the more I train her...the cycle continues.

I love dogs.  Their behaviour with each other is fascinating, their relationship with humanity even more so. There is so much they can do for us, and so much we can learn from them.

I have considered becoming a professional dog trainer several times before, either for the Forces, or for disability support charities, or to help people with problem pets.  People say that you should devote your life to your passion.  Maybe there is a lesson I need to learn here.

In my dream house...

In my dream cottage by the palm-fringed seashore with the hammock on the sandy white beach and the balmy sun setting over the warm blue waters...there is...an Aga.

I love them.  I love how you can cook all the things that require hours of oven time and so you never bother to make in a conventional oven.  I love how they heat your house and make the warmest loveliest seat ever.  I love to make yummy rice pudding stuffed with raisins and cranberries and infused with nutmeg and brown sugar.  Heaven!

I long to live in a house with an Aga...and I dont care that I wouldnt need one in my little wooden beach house...or that I probably couldnt even get one there...its still in the dream...

In search of dolphins

Last night I watched an awesome documentary called Dolphin Boy.  Its about an Israeli teenager called Morad with severe post-traumatic stress disorder, who was brought back into society and himself using dolphin therapy  (for the record, unfortunately Im not one of those super-educated extra-cool people who watches intelligent documentaries...most of the time Im satisfied with America's Next Top Model).  It was a simply-shot, non-pretentious tale of human tragedy and self-sacrificing love...and yes it made me cry.  But it also got me to thinking about how I handle things in my own life.

While I am fortunate enough never to have lived through anything remotely as traumatic as what  Morad had faced, I could see echoes of my own coping mechanisms in his behaviour.  I too shut down on the world and those around me, not to that extreme but I still choose to retreat.  Feeling nothing is less hurtful than feeling the pain.  And yes post-traumatic stress disorder is an overexaggeration of normal, healthy coping strategies, but perhaps I too over-react to things.

I did a long hot exhaustingingly exhilarating summer working as a camp counselor at Camp Sonshine, one of their favourite phrases was "Growth Days".  Growth Days were their overly-enthusiastic typically American ways of turning a stressful, exhausting bad day at camp into something positive.  For a while I dismissed it as nothing more than that, but now I see the value in that way of thinking.  Having a "bad day" is unproductive and pointless for myself and everyone who I snap and moan at, but having a "growth day"...well now that has the potential to add value.  Life is an endless lesson.

The concept of growth days works extra well if you combine it with the "5-5-5 rule" which the lovely (and soon-to-be-wed) Goddess Leonie shared with the world the other day.  To sum it up, if you cannot honestly answer the questions "Will this matter in 5 days...or 5 months...or 5 years?" with "yes yes YES!"  - then you know what...it doesnt matter today either.  Its just a growth day.  Grow, and tomorrow will be better.

But what haunts me, what sends me to my retreated safe place inside myself, is WHAT IF the answer really honestly truthfully is "Yes".  Yes it will matter in 5 days, yes it will matter in 5 months and yes it will still matter in 5 years.  How am I supposed to count this as a growth day, how am I supposed to act like this is not important?  How am I supposed to find the strength not to hide away inside myself and face the pain as the tiny insignificant prinprick that it so obviously is not?

I dont have the answer and I certainly dont have the proof of how to overcome this problem, but I do have two suggestions.  Maybe Leonie's 5-5-5 rule isnt quite complete...maybe you have to extend it till the answer is "No".  Will it matter in 50 years?  Er...yeh maybe.  OK - will it matter in 500 years? Hmm..well the chance of anything at all about my life mattering in 500 years is pretty much zero, so Im gonna go with No.  And oh yeh, if an event within this millenia-rich universe has no impact in 500 years time, then I can logically see that it doesnt matter today either.

But there is still a fatal agonising flaw in the argument, because there is a big difference between things that cross the millenia in their power and meaning, and the "little things" that do still matter to me.  Maybe I should be striving for that deeper level of connection with the universe where the "little things" cease to matter, but Im certainly not there yet.  So the potential for pain still remains, and I am still left in hiding. 

So whats the second suggestion?  Well...maybe I just need to find my dolphins.

Wilderness in my soul

I realised this weekend that despite the fact that I live in the most beautiful corner of England, the Lake District (in my opinion at least), Ive never written about it.  I suspect this is partly to do with my love-hate relationship with England, while it always has been and always will be my home, so much about it makes me want to never think of it again.  Yet the wildness of the Lakes has escaped my scorn and rejection, its raw beauty is undeniable and as separated from humanity as the land in this overpopulated island ever can be.

Most foreigners (and a lot of Brits) have never heard of the Lakes, and almost all of them couldnt point to it on a map.  Nestled up on the border with Scotland, it is as far removed from the stereotypical rolling hills of southern England as it is from the jungles of Borneo.  Perhaps that's why Cumbrians feel more of a kinship with the Scots than we do with our London countrymen.  It has long been the inspiration and spiritual home of poets, writers and artists, those sensitive enough to appreciate its ancient grandeur and dispassionate wildness.  And yet they are not the guardians of this precious isolated savage landscape, that role is left to the farming families who scrape and scratch a living from its harsh unforgiving slopes.  This is a place that does not accept incomers easily, I was born and raised here but wouldnt class myself as properly Cumbrian because my parents are not from the area.

Cumbria is one of the last homes of the rare (and super cute) red squirrel

Although it is an area with a facade of tourism, farming is still the throbbing pulsating life force of the county.  The foot-and-mouth disease epidemic of 2001 wounded and scarred communities, families, livelihoods and lives.  I was 12 then, and every time I smell certain types of disinfectant it still takes me back to the disinfectant mats that were laid on the road to try and stop the spread of infection.  I can still see the smoke billowing from the pyres of burning animals, still feel the oppression of death and sorrow thick in the summer air.  I sincerely hope that this time was the closest I will ever come to living in a war zone.  It might sound odd and overdramatic, but the impact that disease and the half a million slaughtered animals had was unimaginable.

Sally in the snow!

 And yet some of my favourite childhood memories are wrapped up in this land as well.  Summer days lying in the short spiky fellside grass above Lake Ullswater, with nothing but the blue sky and the skylarks for company.  The incredible brightness of the spring green leaves gradually fading to the hues of autumn as I walked in cool leafy woods.  The sound of my kayak cutting through the still waters of the lake, the mysterious shroud of mist slowly rising to reveal the bracken cloaked valleys and bare mountaintops.  Adventuring up the river in the height of summer, cool dark water up to my thighs with the dogs happily splashing along with me.  The exhilaration of snow days in winter, sledging and snowmen and the pure joy of living.

I could talk forever about this place.  I love it, not just for its unquenchable wildness and its uncompromising permanence, I love it because it soothes me.  It calms me and grounds me and revitalises me.  All my worries and cares cannot even murmur a complaint when Im on a mountaintop or othewise immersed in this landscape.  It makes me sad that I have so few pictures of this stunning place.  Despite its timelessness, not even the shadows ever look the same twice.

"Keep close to Nature's heart...and break clear away, once in awhile, and climb a mountain or spend a week in the woods. Wash your spirit clean." John Muir

I cannot wait to leave England far far behind me, but I am so thankful and glad to know that this place will forever be ingrained upon my soul.

The bed has arrived!

My bed has arrived!  Tried it in the van today...and it fits! MASSIVE sigh of relief... Im really pleased with it.

This is it folded up.  It has these neat little things I cant describe that stick out of one bit into another bit to stop it coming open when you dont want it to.

And so you lift those things out of their holes...slide it out magically...and TA DA! Bed time.

Please note that these carpets represent my grandmother's taste in home decor... and not my own!

Old-fashioned bleeding-hearts

I have been avoiding writing this week because I didnt want to write about Bin Laden's death, but all week I havent been able to think of anything which is more worthy of comment.

I love Lindsay Mead's take on recent events at A Design So Vast .  Some things are best expressed through the eyes of a child.

England is consumed by Spring.  Plants and flowers are bursting into the freshest, brightest shades of colour imaginable.  I adore the old-fashioned bleeding-hearts that grow in my grandma's garden in the springtime.  Lambs skip and grow fat on the lush grass.  Swallows dart through the cool hazy spring sunshine.

Our world is a world of contrasts.  It is easy to lose the beauty of a spring day amongst the gravity of world events.  And it is even easier to lose our sense of responsibility and connection on a global scale amongst the minutae of everyday life.

This world confuses, amazes, hurts and inspires me. And always the world keeps turning, whether we are on board or not.

Accountability...mumble grumble grr

Today is the last day of my 11 day break from work, and as I am feeling all moral and accountable I think I should share my holiday target progress.  The targets I previously stated were...

1. Get the bed I have ordered - FAIL.  Hadnt really considered the mass of bank holidays we have just had and the lack of courier service opening days.  BUT...I am going to arrange for it to be picked up on Friday so this is not a genuine setback.
2. Get the plywood panels to make the furniture - FAIL.  BUT...I have done something better - I have almost finished taking the very complicated measurements and making templates for all the various curved shapes I will need to make my furniture.  Really there is no point in buying the panels until I have the templates anyway, and I have done some research into the various panel options available.
3. Fit the electrics for the leisure battery, lighting and plugs - ACHIEVED.  This has been achieved mainly because I changed plan, I am using the existing lighting and just switching to LED bulbs.  I am using a hookup with plug sockets which I have ordered and which has arrived (and is very heavy).

So yeh Im happy with that.  1 fail which really doesnt matter, 1 success and 1 poorly defined target which I have actually surpassed without actually meeting the goal.  Note to self...must set more appropriate targets!

Not so happy about going back to work tomorrow though, it has actually been nice weather in England these past 11 days so I have spent most of the holiday sunbathing.  I dont want to go back into the dark prison of office life.  Sigh.  One day...one day...

I am a bagel baking genius!

When I visited America I fell in love with bagels.  You do get them in the UK - but they arent anywhere near as good and you dont get as many flavours.  So ever since my trip across the Atlantic I have wanted to try making them, 4 years later and this is my first attempt! Yes Im lazy, yes Im busy, but I also thought they would be really hard and slow to make due to all the boiling etc.  Well they were super easy to make, and they turned out great! 

This is the recipe I used...

450g plain flour

1 sachet dried yeast

2 tsp salt

1 tbsp sugar

Mix with 300ml warm water to make a firm dough.  I added fresh parsley and chives from the garden and some pumpkin seeds just to spice things up a little.

Knead for 10 minutes, leave to rise in a warm place for 1 hour.

Divide into 10 flattened balls.  Make a 3cm hole in the centre of each.

Boil for 2 minutes, turning halfway through.

Place on a baking sheet and bake for 25 minutes (mine only needed 20) at 220 degrees.  

And this is the result...

They are super yummy straight out of the oven.

I only made half the mix - as I wasnt sure how they would turn out and didnt want to end up with loads of gross doughy messes.  If I was doing it again I think I would make each bagel bigger, and cook at a lower temperature for a bit longer.  They got brown too quick and so are still a little bit doughy.  But that could just be my oven so some ovens might be ok at 220.

Still not quite up to American standards though unfortunately - but the baking genius satisfaction more than makes up for that!

Change and Me

"Change is the only constant." (Heraclitus...some Ancient Greek philosopher)

Change is all around us.  It is never-ending, it is one of the few things that can be relied upon to always always happen.  And it does not sit well with me.  I struggle to cope with it.  Last year was one of the worst years of my life, at the time I looked at it as a year full of bad luck, even though I dont really believe in luck.  It was in fact a year full of change.  And it almost broke me.

It takes me a while to let new people into my life, and it takes me even longer to get over people leaving it.  I cannot cope with loss.  My cat (who I didnt even really like) went missing a year ago, it still keeps me awake at night in a panic of guilt.

I get incredibly uncomfortable when Im out of my comfort zone.  And yet...I seek out change.  I yearn for it.  I work for it.  My whole life plan is based on me speeding through a far more rapid whirlpool of change than life alone is likely to subject me to.

Why would I do that! Surely thats crazy.  Its like an arachnophobe saying they are going to buy 100 tarantulas and let them run free in the bedroom.  Or is it.  To conquer my fear I have to face it.  And embrace it.  And seek it out.  

One day maybe change will come as easy as the seasons do for me.  Maybe I will learn to love it.  For there is no fear in love.

Electrickery and other confusions

I have been doing lots of internet research and talking to lots of far more knowledgeable people about how best to get some electrics into my van...and I have gone from Plan A of the leisure battery few what feels like an infinite number of Plan B's to the current plan which I am actually (amazing I know) implementing.

I gave up on the leisure battery idea for 2 reasons.  One - I dont think its safe or even possible for me to do on my own.  I came to that conclusion when I asked a friend who is obsessed with tinkering with his (giant house-sized) motorcaravan if he would like to help...and he responded with "That's the one thing I cant do".  Not a good sign.  Then I went to a local garage who specialises in VW conversions to get their opinion...and their response was "We get an electrician in to do that".  Right.  I really dont have a death wish so I then started to investigate the first of the many Plan B's.

And that's when I came to the conclusion which is the second reason why Im not installing a leisure battery...I just do not need one.  Im not installing a fridge, air con, heating, a tv, a water pump, a shower...I dont even intend to use my laptop in the van except in emergencies.  All I want is a light, and a power socket would be great so I can charge my phone and camera.

Now the van already has 2 lights installed in the back, so my friend suggested that I should switch the bulbs to LED.  I will (hopefully) have enough light for the van, and they make such a small drain on the battery that I should be able to use them whenever I like without flattening it.  So I have bought some of these - this was the cheapest site I could find.

And for the power supply - well I have bought a hookup cable with plug sockets on the end of it...like this.  You can then get a continental and a UK adaptor - which means I will have power anywhere that I can access a 240v hookup, or a power socket.  Awesome.  And if I get car chargers for my stuff, then when I am on the road I can also charge things.  And for any cases when neither of those solutions is adequate, Ill just have to go and find somewhere that I can sit and charge my things.  I dont want to be sitting around like a loner in my van for hours waiting for stuff to charge anyway.

If it does get too annoying not having a permanent power source, I can always get a 12V power pack to charge off the cigarette lighter which I can then connect to an extension lead to charge stuff.  They are pretty expensive though so I think that might be a addition once Im on the road and can get a feel for whether it is really worth it.

So that's where I'm at currently.  I have also managed to detach the passenger seat ready to take its swivel - just need to decide which one to buy and get it ordered.  The bed is being collected on Friday and will hopefully arrive a week on Tuesday.  So yeah...I am making progress!

Anna the electrician?

So... I am about to have 11 days holiday from work, these are my van targets for that time...

1. Get the bed I have ordered
2. Get the plywood panels to make the furniture
3. Fit the electrics for the leisure battery, lighting and plugs

Now 1 & 2 seem achievable - I can find things, I can buy things, and I can go pick up things.  But electrics! ELECTRICS! That terrifies me.  I can change a light bulb...but yeh thats pretty much the limit of my electrical knowledge.  Im scared I wont be able to do it, I hate failing.  Im scared I will electrocute myself and blow up the van, that would be bad.  

Im scared that Im not ready to take on the challenge.  But in reality, when would I ever be ready!  Kelly Diels at Cleavage puts it much better than I could...

"Ready is the wrong litmus test.

You only need to be willing.

And “I don’t want to” and “I’m not willing” are legitimate. “I’m not ready” is bullshit and a waiting game."

And willing is what I am.  I want this project to work. Time for some serious internet research I think...progress update to follow soon!

Bedtime !

I have ordered the bed for my van! YAY! Im getting a rock and roll bed from this guy...in a bespoke size for £170.  Seems like a pretty good deal to me.  Just hope I can fit it into the car to get it home!

Ive drawn up plans for the van, sooner or later Ill get round to uploading them on here.  Its all getting very exciting.

Im going to a wedding tomorrow and Im super excited about that.  Weddings are my absolute favourite thing.  Its going to be a good weekend!

No Consequences

We live in a world where consequences are erased whenever possible.  When we are too sick to go to work for a week, we get sick pay.  Our families dont starve, our houses dont get repossessed, no consequences.  When I crashed my car, sure it was inconvenient and scary, but there were no serious consequences.  Cars are designed to protect us, insurance covers our mistakes, no consequences.  If someone fails an exam at school, they take a resit.  They arent forced into a prospectless future, they get another shot at it.  If you get married, you promise away the rest of your life, but yet you know there is a getout clause.  You arent cast out of society forever, you arent forced to remain in the relationship, you just get divorced.

We are indoctrinated with the "second chance", the "get-out clause", the "get out of jail free card".  Sure there are consequences, but there is still that safety net.  The only people who fall when there is no safety net are those distant people on the news.  Its always someone else, not you, not me.

So what does it matter that we live in a culture which minimises consequences!  We get unlimited free healthcare, we are supported when we are sick or old or unemployed.  We can insure ourselves and our possessions against any eventuality.  And that IS amazing.  It really is.  There arent many of us who would willingly give that safety net up.

And yet there is still value in remembering that there are consequences.  Underneath that safety net, there is the hard ground.  And most of the world dont have the luxury of the sick day or the car insurance or the exam resit or the divorce.   When they fall, they hit the ground hard.  To truly empathise with others, I believe we must first be fully grateful for the contents of our own lives.

And sometimes those consequences are ours.  Sometimes they come out of the TV, out of the lives of others, and into our own lives.  In some relationships, there are no second chances.  In some illnesses, there is no cure.  Awareness of the potential for consequence does not come naturally to us, after all, we have learnt that there arent really any.  I am working on gaining that awareness.  I learnt the hard way that if you remain oblivious to consequence, you can hit the ground before you even knew you were falling.  

Gaining the ability to consider the possibility of a world which is not wrapped in a giant safety blanket would mean everything to me.  Knowing that I have considered the consequences of my actions would at the very least give me peace of mind.  I firmly believe that it would go beyond this though, it would protect my relationships,  channel my future towards productivity and happiness, one day it could even save my life.

Aint That The Way Love's Supposed To Be...

When I was a kid my dad and I used to take long walks along the old railway line near his house.  Wild flowers and butterflies lined the embankments, birdsong and summer haze filled the blue skies.  We would walk and talk and laugh together for hours.  Our private world was punctuated by the people and dogs we would meet along the way, some of them new, some of them familiar faces.

One of our favourite group of people to meet was an elderly couple, they must have been in their seventies but to me they looked as old as the mountains.  In summer they wore shorts which exposed their soft wrinkled skin folding away from their stick thin limbs like paper caught by an imaginary breeze.  In winter they would wear yellow raincoats like the kind fishermen wear in cartoons.  

Whenever we met them, they were always, without failure, holding hands.  Walking along, they were holding hands.  Sitting on a bench, they were holding hands.  They didnt seem to talk that much, in fact a lot of the time they would walk in silence, but not for one moment did they ever let go of each other's hands.

My dad used to joke that they held each other's hands to stop the wind from blowing them away.  We both knew that wasnt true though.  If anything was holding them up, it was purely love.

Oatmeal Loving

Ok...so I know this is old old OLD news...but my friend has only just introduced me to this site...and it is AWESOME !!!

 

The Oatmeal

Loving it!  Its not helping me get my latest university assignment done though...

 

Sleepy Saturday

"Is it time to go yet Mum?"

"Hmm...now which one is the battery...?"

Today I finished preparing the van for storage.  It is now washed and waxed, all the door hinges are oiled and all the window and door seals have been lubricated.  I have disconnected the battery (with great difficulty finding the thing!) and I am going to be drip charging it.  The windows are slightly open and I removed the wiper blades and wrapped the wiper arms.  The handbrake is off and the wheels are bricked - I havent decided yet if I want to put it on blocks.  All the fluids are topped up and I have increased the antifreeze percentage.  The van is sitting on a plastic sheet with carpet on - at the moment there is a leak somewhere in the barn roof so I need to sort that out so there are no more puddles under the van!

I have taken measurements of the interior so now the next task is to draw up some plans...watch this space!

Safe in my Father's hands

Im not one of those people who seem to just pray for things and immediately get them.  I know people like that - and their faith inspires me.  One of my friends has a million and one stories of how God has provided for her...her car breaks down, she prays for a new one, someone instantly turns up to give her one.  She needs money for flights for a mission trip, she prays about it, someone comes up to her out of the blue and offers her the exact amount she needed for that ticket.  Well its never been like that for me.  I always wondered why, now I think Im starting to see.

You see, Im also not the kind of person who believes I deserve anything I havent worked for.  Yet if I worked for it, I can accept that thing and use it as productively as possible.  So when I was considering buying a van which cost double what I was originally intending to pay, I prayed about whether I was doing the right thing.  And no miracle benefactor appeared, no-one turned round and offered me the money.  And even if they had, I probably wouldnt have accepted it.  But I stepped out in faith, and I bought it because I believe that this is God's plan for me and my finances are safe in his hands.

And 4 days later, I get a pay rise at work that will have covered the cost of the van by the time I leave.  And because I know I have worked for that money, I feel ok about putting it towards my master plan.

We are all safe in His hands, even if we dont know it until after we have taken the risk.

New arrivals

Halfway through the 300 mile journey home!

Blank slate...cannot wait to get started

Left hand drive is going to take a while to get used to!

So I made it to Southampton to pick the van up after 10h on a bus and 2h layover in London.  Though I did have my breakfast sitting opposite Buckingham Palace so it wasnt so bad.  And I made it home !!! 7h of left driving was pretty terrifying, but I managed not to crash the van and not to bruise my left hand too much by smashing it into the door trying to change gear.  And now the van is safely situated in its home for the next 18 months - and I can breathe a MASSIVE sigh of relief! Great weekend!

Springtime beckons

The world is re-awakening.  Daffodils are slowly opening, crocuses are reaching and stretching towards the sun and the smell of hyacinths fills the air.

New white lambs skip and frolic in the fields, their dark eyes filled with wonder at the stirring world.  Bold green leaves and pale blossom begin to grace the trees and hedgerows as the birds begin to sing louder with excitement into the hazy clear skies.  

Golden rays bringing the first promise of the warmth of summer fold themselves around me as the whole world seems to pulsate with the life and hope that only spring can bring.