FIXEDEYES; John Clancy and Rachel Clancy

Puddle Jumping

John — Thu, 10 Jul 2008 21:09:23 +0000

The patter of raindrops beating the bedroom window woke me up this morning. It’s a really lovely sound to hear when you’re cozily wrapped up in warm blanket isn’t it? But it sure doesn’t help one to drag themselves out of bed! Well, at least it doesn’t for me.

But at any rate, when I finally did get out of bed around 7:30 to get the girls fed & dressed, I was wondering what to do with them on this wet day. I contemplated my options. I took them to the indoor playground at McDonalds yesterday—a real treat for them, and one they would gladly do again. But naw. The only other option that seemed good was to dress them for the rain and take them out to play in it, and get wet if they wanted to, and that seemed like fun.

So, we got them all dressed up in their rain gear, including wellies (rubber boots), and took off into the steady rain. Aria was absolutely thrilled to be allowed to walk through any and every rain puddle that she saw along the way to town. And, I encouraged her in this endeavour, to both of our delights. Then, as we passed a stretch of grass outside of our local library, I noticed the mother of all puddles, welled up in the middle of the lawn. When I asked Aria if she wanted to go walk in the ‘wee pond’, her eyes got all big, and her lips formed an ‘o’ as she drew a deep breath, relishing the thought. “Go Ahead” I said. And she was off.

It was so much fun to watch her running through this thing time after time, occasionally shooting a glance my way to make sure that it was still ok. It was almost as much fun to see people’s reactions as they walked by. Some laughed heartily, while others smirked while half shaking their heads. I heard remarks like, “kids!”, or “Isn’t that just like ‘em”, or, “They’re all the same!” I laughed when one lady said, “They always head straight for trouble don’t they.” I thought I should probably correct her. “WE always head straight for trouble.” After all, isn’t heading for trouble more of a humanity trait than it is a characteristic of kids? I’m diverting a bit here, but I really was enjoying the interaction with the people on the street. And I wasn’t the only one noticing the passer-byers. After she had played by herself in the puddle for about 10 mins, she ran up to me and shyly said something to me real quiet like. “What?” I asked as I inclined to hear her better. “I want that girl to play in the puddle” she said, as she looked at a girl slightly older than her who had just walked past.

“Awwww”, I exclaimed, “She can’t honey, she’s not dressed for it.” And I truly felt a little bad that she didn’t have someone her age to jump in that puddle with.

Man! How much better are the good things in life when we have people to share them with? It’s like at the playground. When you have one kid, he goes about the playground quietly having his fun, doesn’t he? Maybe the occasional scream or shout? But, then when you add another couple to the mix—the decibel level multiplies exponentially. It’s crazy, they just seem to set each other off and have a blast with the simplest games & activities. For example: I just took a break from writing this article to sit down with my family and eat dinner. Kiera, the 17 month old, pauses from eating to let out a short burst of a scream. Aria laughed at that and then Kiera laughed that Aria laughed. Then she screamed again. This time, Aria laughed and answered the cry with her own siren-like scream. You get the idea. What would have only been a mere novelty alone (a simple scream) was a hilarious game when shared between the two.

It’s just funny, ya know? Back at the grass pond, Aria and I were both seeking to share our experience of the rain puddle with the people around us. I, by chatting to those around me, and she, by wishing that the kids walking by would play with her. Somehow, sharing life with others validates our joys, fears, sorrows, and other emotions. And sharing life more than just validates our feelings, it somehow increases what we feel. That’s definitely part of the reason I like the idea of living in community! I’ve been thinking so much lately about what community is and about what it would look like for a bunch of Christians to move into a place together, sharing their lives with each other and with the community. It’s not an original thought—Christians have been doing it since they were Christians. But, the thought really appeals to me now.

Part of the reason is that it’s just not easy to share your life with others, and they with you in this hectic world. And it’s not because nobody likes the idea, it’s just that we’re so stinkin’ busy that it gets hard to really build deep relationships, ya know? Sharing life is a natural way to build deep relationships because it’s sharing all of the different kind of experiences that come naturally with life, ie: eating, working, playing, worshipping, praying, etc. Have you ever had a friend that you made at work? Someone that you probably wouldn’t have naturally gravitated toward, but because you worked together, you got past the surface level and really grew to appreciate the person? It’s because you shared life with the person, that you got to know them. Shouldn’t community serve to create opportunities to share life and, in the process, establish deep relationships?

Yeah, sharing life of course has its difficulties, and anyone who has ever had to live or work with someone (like all of us) knows that that is true. But are relationships forged and the lessons learned worth the trials? I would answer with an emphatic, “Definitely!” And I’m really hoping that in the future, some opportunity presents itself to establish deeper levels of community. Specifically, I’m hoping to find a bunch of people to move into a big house or apartment to share life, bills, work, laughs, and tears together. Could be fun… Probably’d be difficult, but fun… What do you think?

Superpower

John — Tue, 24 Jun 2008 16:11:08 +0000

Trying to catch you up on the last 6 mos in this one post isn’t really practicle so, I’m just going to write about the last hour. I figure it’s a good start eh?

The inspiration for the name of this post–Superpower, came from a new song that we sing in our church. The chorus is something to the effect of:

You are the source,
You are the Superpower,
You win the day!

It goes on to speak of how in the midst of a world that has obviously gone wrong somewhere, God still remains victorious. I’ll tell you, today… I was really face to face with the fact that the world has gone awry. It may have been the drizzly rain was shading the way that I was looking at the scenes of the street as I walked home from work the afternoon, but certain scenes were jumping out at me, shouting that something was wrong with the world. A woman walking a few paces behind me shouted at her partner walking out of a pub across the street, “HEY!” as if to say, I caught ya red handed, ya dog! He didn’t back down an inch as he yelled back. “I’m goin’ tae get da POWER!” (meaning that he needed to put money on the electicity meter..it’s a prepaid system). Their interaction just struck me as typical of the area, and something inside me was saddened by the deterioration of relationships that seems to be so prevalent. Then, there were a couple of guys with the obvious appearance of junkies about them walking down the sidewalk-their cheeks hollow and cheek bones clearly defined. I tried to think about what they would have looked like with another twenty pounds on each of them, how it would have made them look normal, better!

Walking past the liquor shops and the stores & cafes that are now covered with grafiti lined steel shutters, and the vacated buildings with smashed windows, so much seemed as it should not be. I stopped for a while to pray as I leaned up against a wall. I prayed for a woman who I met with today who should not be in so much debt. Nor should she have treated so crappy by men in her life, but she was. I also remembered another guy who I had a long conversation with yesterday. We talked about how the bible says that the whole earth is subject to frusteration, but I didn’t need to tell him that. He’s reminded of the frusteration when he goes to the house where his wife & kids should be, but aren’t.

Actually the conversation that I had with this guy yesterday was a great one. I was definitely left with the distinct impression that God is real and that He is over all of these things, but today everything just looked so dreary! I realized then, just how down I was feeling, so I was thinking and talking to God about these things, about how He’s still joyful (and I do definitely believe that God is joyful despite the evil in the world), and I felt a question within me: will I dare to delight in God?. The question was, in the midst of all of these tough situations that can really cause despair if dwelt upon, will I instead choose to delight in the fact that God is infinitely good? The seemingly evident reality of the troubles around me were screaming for me to follow a path of despair, and the issues surrounding the depravity of our area do need to be addressed. But, the reality of God’s goodness, faithfullness, lovingkindness, and power to straighten out every crooked thing in His own time is actually far more a reality than even the evil that I was witnessing on the streets. Does that make sense? I have seen evidences of the beautiful character of God, but somehow the truths of his character are often mailigned as the devil seeks to mar the truth of God’s perfection. And His perfection is a cause for delight, so the question before me, was am I going to dare to delight in Him just now. And, I said yes.

As I said yes to God, I looked up to see a man in his fifties walking toward me with a young boy on his shoulders. The boy had a big smile on his face and a good tuft of hair clutched in each fist, but the guy didn’t seem to mind. The kid’s smile was contagious, and I truly took delight in that scene. But, ya know I was also delighting in God at the same time. I was delighting in the fact that there is still love in the world. There are still such things as laughter and smiles, hugs and kisses. Generosity still exists, and so does beauty and in the end, goodness will prevail!

Sunshine at Bedtime

Rachel — Wed, 11 Jun 2008 21:01:58 +0000

Thoughts evoked by the word “summer” usually bring to mind moments, days, etched in our memories from our childhood. Having spent most of those carefree years on Canada’s west coast, summer for me meant climbing trees, riding bikes, playing baseball, building sandcastles, the tangy taste of sea salt in my hair, sunshine at bedtime. Summer meant I could go outside after dinner, wear shorts, eat on the patio, and run around barefoot. They were warm days, full days.

Summer in Mexico and then again in Minneapolis brought with it changes, a veering away from how things had always been. For one thing, the summers in both these localities were a good deal hotter than the warm, mild days I remembered on the west coast. Being a red-head, I learned to linger in the shade. Also, the beach was no longer just a 5 minute drive away.

Living in India during the summer brought the biggest shock to my system. We arrived there in the month of February- the beginning of their warmer weather and to me, it felt like I’d just gone from winter to summer with no transition other than a long plane ride: the snow of New York State to what felt like summer in India. Little did I realize that I hadn’t even tasted “summer” yet. The weeks got progressively hotter and then came to a boiling point in India’s hottest month– May. Then, when summer would normally be happening (in my mind, at least), the monsoon season arrived with days on end of rain– it kind of redefines one’s idea of summer.

Scotland has done that to me again. This northern place has its own way of tweaking my preconceived ideas of how summer ought to be. For example, here I am in mid-June, wearing a light sweater in the somewhat cool evening, wondering if tomorrow I’ll need a sleeveless top or a jacket. Experiencing my second summer here in Scotland has caused me to be prepared for all kinds of weather. When you get a hot day here, everyone goes outside- they don’t want to miss it. It makes for awfully long days in the cafe, not only because one wants to be out in the weather, but also because we get so few customers. However, just because a day starts out sunny and warm doesn’t mean it’ll stay that way. I almost feel more comfortable hanging my laundry out to dry on a cloudy day as often I feel like we’re less likely to get rain than on a sunny day. I suppose you could say that I miss the conventional summers of my childhood, but a good summer day in Scotland causes me to feel blessed, knowing that they are gifts to be treasured. And while the sun isn’t necessarily still out when John and I hit the sack, the day is in a state of lingering dusk that seems to last for hours. In fact, I think at present we may have 2 hours of actual night in the course of 24 hours. Blackout blinds would be nice!

Neighbours

Rachel — Fri, 11 Jan 2008 14:28:38 +0000

There have been some places where I’ve lived where I didn’t know any of my neighbours. Other times, I’ve been blessed with some really good people with whom I’ve shared life, conversation, and even food. As we prepare to move to our third place since coming to Scotland, I feel the tinge of leaving my neighbours behind once again.

The way most people live in this part of the world makes it very difficult NOT to meet your neighbours. The building we’ve been living in is a long row of “flats”, four stories high and with four seperate entrances and stairwells– otherwise known as “closes”. I’ve managed to come face to face with someone from every flat in our close for various reasons. The first neighbour we met is known by all of us as Mrs. Priestly. She lives right across the hall from us on the ground floor and has been here for at least 3 decades, maybe more. She’s a lovely short and stout lady with white hair and always wears aprons around the house and garden. She must be at least eighty, but is the one who cleans the entrance hallway each month and every week she takes out all of our garbage bins and returns them after the dump truck empties them– a selfless act indeed. Her door is equiped with a loud beep whenever it is opened and often when Aria hears it, she tells me, “I want to say hello to Mrs. Priestly.” She will proceed to do so and the dear lady exclaims over her and admires her clothes.:-)

Another neighbour we’ve come to know is in the close next door– Gerry. He’s a single dad in his mid-forties with two lovely children: Andrew (5) and Amie (3). Aria loves to play with these two “frens” (friends) and they’ve been over to our place for a meal and we’ve been to their house for a meal. The interesting thing about this guy (besides being a single dad) is that both he and his children are vegans (they don’t eat any meat or products from animals, ie dairy, honey, etc. or wear any clothing produced from animals like wool and leather). As you can imagine, John and I had a great time looking over recipes to see what we could make for them and there are really a lot of good vegan meals you can make if you put a little effort into it. In fact, I think he’s coming by for a meal tomorrow night. Gerry is also an atheist so there are a plethera of interesting topics to talk about. Both John and I enjoy his company and conversation– he’s a good guy as well as a good neighbour.

The couple who lives above us have also proved to be good neighbours. The guy is a mechanic and has been very helpful to John when we’ve had car “tweeks” with our little red citroen saxo. He owns a mechanic shop and if we have any issues, our business goes to him. Not only does he know what he’s doing, but he’s honest as well. And his philosophy is, “If you don’t need to spend money on it, don’t.” Now who wouldn’t want a mechanic with that philosophy? Also, the reason this post is being written is because they have wireless internet and are letting us use their signal (at least, for the next couple of weeks because they’re moving too).

So, why the move? Believe me, I’m not really looking forward to all the packing and sorting again. We’re living in the same town; can’t we just live in the same place? Well, as much as we like our location and neighbours, this house has a couple of major issues: the kitchen is remarkable small and the carpet is remarkable stainable despite its being of the colour “tan”. There has been an offer by the company that our pastor owns to rent a much larger flat for a year at a very reasonable rate. One of the single twenty-somethings from our church would be moving in with us and we’d end up saving a little money by sharing some of the costs. Also, Amanda needs a place to live and this is a good opportunity to encourage community. Yeah, we do it already to a certain extent, but with two living areas, this other flat will be ideal. It’s a fifteen minute walk from here, and half a block from church as well as half a block from the cafe I work at (more on that to come!). Sooo… it looks like a move is coming up in early Feb.— wish we could take our neighbours with us!

Guy Fawkes Day

Rachel — Mon, 05 Nov 2007 19:19:45 +0000

I still remember the first time Aria experienced fireworks. It was the 4th of July in India and we were celebrating with some American students. Aria(who was just shy of a year old) responded to the bright flashes and violent explosions of the massive Indian fireworks with screams of terror. I took her inside where the bangs were fairly muffled and she quickly calmed down. That was the first and last time she experienced fireworks.

Fast-forward almost a year and a half to chilly November in Scotland. For a couple of weeks now, I’ve been seeing signs up to buy fireworks. I kind of assumed that it was for Halloween as I knew of no other near holiday. But the 31st came and went; however, the signs stayed up. Then, a couple of days ago, John came home to tell me that the 5th of November is Guy Fawkes Day. “Who’s he?” I asked. Apparently, in the 19th century, this infamous man conspired to blow up the Parliament Buildings in London. The plan failed and the unfortunate man, along with his co-conspirators, were hung and then cut into pieces—nasty business. And this is what we celebrate—the condemned Guy Fawkes. In the U.S. and Canada we use fireworks to celebrate independence; here in the UK we use them to mark the life of a suicide bomber. Okay, not quite, but he did try to blow up Parliament after all—an odd public holiday, if you ask me.

Well, most of the peeps from our church were going to nearby Seed Hill to watch the fireworks, but John’s friend, Big John, invited us to watch them from his apartment. He lives on the top floor of one of the few high rises in Paisley. John had visited there before and said that the view was amazing—one can see all the way to Glasgow.

So, as the dark night grew darker and bitterly cold, we hurried from our car to the apartment building, thankful that we wouldn’t have to remain in the brisk wind. The high rise is mostly Council housing (low-income, government-sponsored housing) and the sign in the square, metal elevator reflected the fact—it stated that the person(s) spitting in the elevator needed to stop or else! And the building had a smell that was new to me. We took the slow elevator to the 16th floor, went through a couple of doors, took the stairwell to the 17th floor and went through another little maze until we arrived in Big John’s studio flat—a cozy bachelor’s nest above the world. His living room windows were wide open and the whole horizon to the east was displayed before us. Bright sparkling lights of all colours were erupting continuously from two or three dozen locations: city parks, the street, and private back yards. We could even see the large firework show in Glasgow’s city park away in the distance. Adding to the charged air was the occasional sound of firetrucks roaring off to answer some call. Aria stood on a chair by the window and took it all in.

It was a sight to behold.

Note: An Englishman just told me that Guy Fawkes was actually burnt at the stake (as well as the other things) and it is traditional to put a dummy (called a “guy”) into the middle of your bombfire. Gruesome traditions, eh?!

Company Cheer

Rachel — Mon, 08 Oct 2007 13:14:25 +0000

Comings and goings, community living, warmth and conversation with friends and family: so has been the past month at 5 Kerr Street. My parents came for a three week visit on September 12th and on October 4th, the day after they left to fly back to Alberta, Canada, our dear friends who are from Wisconsin came for a five day visit.

When we lived in India, God gave us the gift of Dean and Jayne Gilge as our friends. An American couple with children my age, they lived two blocks from our apartment in India and we spent many happy evenings together and took the hazardous Sunday drive through Hyderabadi traffic to church together. On October 2, 2006 we left India and spent a week in Scotland before going back to the States for three months. Dean and Jayne left India on October 2, 2007, exactly a year after us, to go back home to Ogema, Wisconsin. They are spending the same days that we did in Paisley, Scotland— how ironic! Though a whole year had passed since we’d seen them, it feels like we haven’t been apart for more than a week. It’s strange to think that so much has passed in that “week”.:-)

So what have we been doing these past four weeks? With my parents we ate a lot of chocolate-coated digestive biscuits, went to the vegetable store, celebrated October birthdays, explored the countryside and Doune Castle, looked at birds, and John and I got to go on a date every week. With Dean and Jayne, we’ve eaten steak pies and fresh cream apple turnovers from Gregg’s, explored the Paisley Abbey, took an extremely crowded train to Edinburgh- mulling over the ancient cobbles, buildings, and museums, and drank a lot of tea. Both my mum and Jayne have been wonderful dishwashers and everyone has been entirely delightful and a blessing to have. How different life will be when all the company leaves. Jayne and Dean leave for London tomorrow and then head home to their children and friends.

How beautiful life is with people who love one another, care for one another. The little inconveniences of having one’s own space pale in comparison with the joys. We are thinking often of John’s family and how much we’d like to see them again, have them meet Kiera and enjoy Aria—not to mention seeing the many friends we have scattered about every where. The life of a traveller has its consequences—some good, some bad. But no matter where we’ve gone, God has blessed us with people who love us and who we grow to love, people we delight to know and open our homes to. These relationships are things that will last beyond the trials, joys, tragedies, and triumphs of our brief sojourn on this earth. How blessed we are in our friends!

Tests

Rachel — Thu, 20 Sep 2007 12:56:52 +0000

Every car John and I have owned has pointed us to God, but at times, they’ve had the potential to do otherwise. Our first car (a mazda 626) had so many different issues, but right from the beginning we dedicated it to God saying, “This is Your car, not ours.” He held it together and every breakdown and issue (and believe me, there were a lot of them) was another test to see if we would trust Him to be faithful. He always was. On the other side of the trial we wished we’d been less worried and more sure of His faithfulness. When the time was right, He provided us with a newer car through friends at no charge. The subaru carried us through John’s senior year of college, Aria’s birth, and all the way up until we left for our India internship. The sale of it helped us to purchase our plane tickets. When we returned from India we needed another vehicle. John bought a Dodge Intrepid at an auction and it was a good car for the three months we needed it. We had to move to Scotland without its sale, however, and trust that God would bring along the right buyer to John’s dad who was holding it for us. It was sold with a profit of $500 more than what we’d paid for it. Its sale enabled us to pay our taxes to the IRS that we ended up owing for 2006.

Now Scotland. I didn’t want to own a car here and we made our way around by way of buses, trains, the rare taxi, friends, and our own two feet. However, for John’s new job working with Christians Against Poverty, a car was required. John went to an auction with three guys from church and came back with a wee red Citroen Saxo (a French made car). We hadn’t had the money to pay for a car, but the church took an offering for us and we were given £500 toward the cost: the car cost £675 in total. As the guys drove the car home they realized that the CB joint would need replacing. John felt a bit down, but I reminded him of how God had come through for us with our other vehicles so many times. John found the part for a really good price and he and his friend, Neill, had no troubles at all fixing it. But when they went to start the car the next day, it wouldn’t start. John spent most of his spare time trying to figure out what was wrong, but to no avail. He needed it to drive down south for his second batch of work training. After exhausting his knowledge and skill, it was decided that he would take it to a mechanic’s Monday morning. It was Sunday. John had to leave to drive south Monday at three in the afternoon.

It was at this point that I read Psalm 11 and I was struck by the words, “God tests the righteous…”. I felt like He was testing us, not only with the car troubles, but also with our tight finances. It had been the tightest month money-wise since we’d moved to Scotland. John and I determined to trust.

Monday morning, John pushed the car to a mechanic’s shop that was right around the corner and to his surprise, the guy who came to check out the car is a guy that John says hi to everyday as he passes on the sidewalk on his way to work. The guy checked a few things, tightened the alternator, charged the battery, and “Voila!”— the car roared to life! The mechanic didn’t charge us anything and John was able to drive the car down to Bradford (near Manchester) that afternoon. He returned last night and the car was still running well.

Just before he left I cautioned him not to take any money out of our bank account. “We only have £45 left in there and that has to cover our food for the rest of the month.” John had about £150 in cash with him to cover travelling expenses and the like. Yes, those costs would be reimbursed, but not until next month. We were trusting God to stretch our money. But we didn’t worry. We were going to trust God. He was testing us. On Wednesday as John was driving back from Bradford he called to tell me that the CAPs organization, after hearing of our tight budget this month because of the car and such, had decided to bless us with a cheque–a cheque for £750!

And I just want to testify to God’s faithfulness. He tests us, yes, but He comes through. He loves to come through.

Little shoplifter…

Rachel — Fri, 14 Sep 2007 11:40:43 +0000

My friend, Naomi, and I had just enjoyed a delicious cup of hot chocolate at the Aroma Room cafe and were leisurely walking back towards the town centre, both pushing our babies in strollers. Aria was walking complacently along beside us as we chatted. Suddenly, I had a funny feeling and looked about me for her. I couldn’t see her. Naomi did, however, and left her baby with me as she turned back to get her. To my surprise, Aria was racing up the sidewalk away from us. Upon closer observation, I noticed that she was clutching something white and furry to her. She had snatched a stuffed toy dog from just inside the door of a shop and, knowing that I wouldn’t approve, had gone tearing off in the opposite direction. The dog was returned to the shop owner with sheepish apologies and Aria was returned to me, crying many tears for her lost puppy.

Besides shoplifting, Aria’s been doing the usual two-year old thing. She’s talking a lot. Her latest phrase is, “I’m gonna get you!” said in a playful growly voice. Toilet training is going okay though it does feel like I’m constanly washing little girl underwear!:-) Everyone learns eventually, right?

Kiera enjoys eating, mostly at dinnertime and makes frantic noises all through her meal as if she were almost starving. She looks a lot like Aria did at the same age, though her hair is a bit lighter. Aria was looking at her own baby record book with John and John would say, “Look, there’s Aria as a baby.” Aria would respond in a knowing voice, “Nooo, Kiera.” She was convinced the baby in the pictures was her little sister.

John was away Monday through Wednesday (near Manchester) this week and will be again next week. He’s doing training for his new part time job, CAPs (Christians Against Poverty). It’s exciting, but a busy time and it’s hard to have him away. He is still working part-time at Let-It (a house renting agency) as well.

My parents came on Wednesday and will be staying with us for three weeks. It’s great for them to see Aria again and for my dad to meet Kiera for the first time. They’re getting spoiled as grandkids do!:-) I’m able to write this post because they’re watching the girls for me right now. But the time has come for me to run off once more. I just wanted to do a little catch-up. Hopefully a few more posts will get written in the three weeks where I have such willing sitters.;-)

Update bout nothing too much

John — Mon, 23 Jul 2007 11:21:19 +0000

Hi,
Well, I’m at the library again, and I’ve only got 9 minutes left on this cpu. No bother, it’s just enough time for a quick update to let you know what is going on. … Thankfully, not too much, or I wouldn’t have time to fit it all in.

We are getting settled into the house pretty well. I’m actually not dying without my communications. Funny enough though, the guy from the phone company showed up today to install the phone line, (despite the fact that I had canceled the appointment), and he said that there was actually a line already installed and that I shouldn’t have to pay the huge fee to get one installed. Well, if it works out, I’ll do it, but the cool thing is that I’m not nearly as concerned now. I had already setled on life without a constant line to the rest of the world and it really is not such a bad thing.

Anyway, 6 min left, what can I say? Going on a surprise date with Rachel tonight. It’s definitely not been super easy to get time with just the two of us lately. But, we have some awesome friends stepping up to watch the girls tonight and so we’ll go “up the toon” (meaning “up to town”).

Yeah, It’s really cool that God cares about our relationship. He cares that we love each other and that our marriage is a safe place. I know that He cares for two reasons that I can think of (2min left). One, because He wants to show the world his love through our love. Two, He wants to work on us in the context of our relationship. This He is definitely doing. He’s teaching us how to love.
Anyway, gotta run.
more later

Moving House

Rachel — Fri, 20 Jul 2007 11:29:27 +0000

Here it is, late July, and I find myself slipping into another layer–a sweater at that! How different is summer here than in India, or even America.

I have just completed my seventh move since getting married; sure, it’s just a few blocks away, but it still involves all the packing, stress, moving, and cleaning, with a little bit of the feeling of displacement thrown in. I am now living in my eighteenth house, excluding the three different dorm rooms in college. Well, I shouldn’t brag. Afterall, this is Aria’s sixth abode and she’s not even two! She sort of understood about moving this time, but still experienced a certain amount of disorientation. Kiera acted fractious and confused; her sleeping habits are sporadic presently as well. But, for all that, we are renting a pleasant, spacious flat.

We live on the ground floor in a large tenament building (old style flats, or apartments, with high ceilings) and it is the only residential building on our dead-end street. The building contains thirty-two separate flats and is nestled in the vee formed where the train tracks split. All day long I listen to trains going this way or that on either side of me. I don’t find it too loud or even annoying in the slightest. In fact, I enjoy the faint rumbling that speaks of long journeys and distant, unknown places. The little garden, or yard, in back is available for our use and John strung up a clothes-line for me so that I can hang the laundry out to dry. I recently purchased a pair of wellies (rubber boots) to make my way through the dewy, meadow-high grass and peg up the washing. When I bring it in in the evening, the smell of fragrant grass lingers over it and I press my face to the garments drinking in the freshness. Aria likes to tromp through the tall grass with me and eat berries off our raspberry bush tucked into the back corner of the garden; she also likes to push her ragdolls in her wee dolly stroller up and down the pathways looking for Jet, the neighbour’s black cat.

As for the flat itself, it is teeming with character. The long narrow bathroom makes me think I’m in the galley of a ship. Perhaps the blue and white decor, slanted floor, and crooked doorway all help to add to the effect. Perhaps I simply imagine this because I’ve never actually seen then galley of a ship.:-) I was happy to note that the toilet flushes easily–our last one didn’t.
The girls’ room is long and big with high ceilings and nice moulding around it.
John and my bedroom used to be the kitchen and is an odd-shaped room tucked into the back of the flat. The tall window looks out into the wild green garden and as there is no space in the kitchen, the fridge takes up its lodgings with us. A mirrored sliding door leads into an adorabley cozy room that could serve for any number of things, though currently the washer/dryer reside there.
The kitchen was literally an afterthought and when the former kitchen became a bedroom, the large hall closet was extended and became an internal kitchen. Small and inconvenient, John and I continue to experiment how to make it work best–an interesting challenge. Despite this, I think it’s not too bad.
The lounge is large and bright with lovely moulding separating the walls and ceiling as well as around the graceful light fixture. It’s an inviting room and has a gas fireplace from the sixties that adds character and a built-in bookcase that adds charm.

Welcome to our home.