Lights....Camera...ACTION!

Well.

This will be interesting.

It was meant to be a post showing off my new Action Dress™ and ends up being a post that explains why I have been out of action for the last six days.

It wasn't supposed to be *that* kind of action. Sigh....

OK, the first question I kept getting is What in the world is an Action Dress™?

Well, I am glad you asked. Let's just begin with the history of me, shall we?

I have always preferred dresses. I like the freedom of movement they give you. They are cooler in sweltering summers and look great with tights and boots in the depths of winter.

As a child I liked wearing them but only if I wore shorts underneath so boys couldn't see my panties as I flipped on the monkey bars.

Even then I was an aspiring Action Grrrl.

When Spiderman and I spent three months as exchange students in 1990 on the LC/MC programme, I packed three long skirts (a black, a tan and a blue floral) lots of heavy sweaters and coordinating long john bottoms to wear under my dresses for warmth(oatmeal, red and bright blue).  I wore my skirts with either ankle boots or Converse high tops.

It may have not been fashionable, but it was comfortable.

These days as Quaker embracing the Testimony of Simplicity and rejecting sweatshop made clothes that make me spend too long obsessing on my appearance, I opt for a comfortable solid coloured dress with a practical apron in a lovely patterned fabric on top. The apron helps keep my clothes clean and has 2 massive pockets to keep all my bits and bobs (hankies, lip balm, prayer beads, asthma inhaler etc. the important stuff.) Plus I sewed them all myself.

I like these clothes. They suit me. I wear them with trainers (tennis shoes for my American peeps) and I get along just fine. I can wear these dresses anywhere.

Indeed I have. I have worn them to weddings, to funerals, to the theatre, on hikes up a mountain.

Normally, hiking doesn't matter. I just hoick it up slightly  if I need to go uphill. But last month we did a hike to a spectacularly waterfall and i had a little trouble crossing the river walking like an awkward crab over the wet uneven stones. I had a vision of me falling and tearing my thin fabric dress and it got me thinking.

What I needed was an Action Dress™. A dress made of heavy duty fabric. A dress that didn't matter if it got muddy.  A dress for action.

But why not just buy a pair of jeans like a normal person? my mother asked.

Clearly she doesn't know me at all.

Have you not paid attention for the last 48 years????

I hate jeans. All my life I tried to like jeans because jeans were cool and I just hated them. Every pair of jeans I have ever owned felt like they are slicing me in two and giving my vagina a wedgie. (Just try to get *that* image out of your head..mwa ha ha!) These days, since the Horrible Hysterectomy jeans (or any trousers with a zip in front) make my scar hurt like Voldemort is near.

That's why.

I decided I wanted to make an Action Dress™ out of some heavy retro curtain fabric my friend Susie gave me when she cleaned out her loft before she moved away. I wanted to make it like dungarees (overalls to my American peeps) at the top with side slits so no hoicking would be needed for uphill. I could wear action leggings underneath like I wear for exercise to provide a little modesty.

But mainly I wanted to look like someone out of Bananarama.

I am an 80's girl at heart.

So I made a spectacular dress for running, jumping, climbing mountains.

Then I met a lovely vegan named Nicky who offered to take some action shots of me in the dress.

Here is where the INCIDENT happened.

BI (Before Incident) Nicky and I had a delicious meal at The Warren and then toddled over to the park. We were having a good time. I was laughing and messing about on the exercise equipment.

I am pretending to be chased by a T-Rex here.

I am pretending to be Atlas holding up the world here.

Here I am a weathered old salt of a sea captain driving his boat. I love how my hair is spiked up by the wind to look like I am a parrot. It fits with the who sea captain/pirate motif.

I notice I am pulling faces in every picture. I am sure i didn't communicate any of this inner monologue about who my character was with Nicky. She must have wondered what in the world I was doing.

Then Nicky suggested  something.
"
Her: Why don't we go to the stone circle and have you jump off?
(her inner monologue:  that will make a great action shot.)
Me: Yeah! Let's do it! That will be awesome.
(my inner monologue: Yeah! That sounds fun. I'll make sure to leap really high and wave and pump my arms as i jump off this here shoulder-high rock that is wet from when it rained earlier and land on this grassy slope. What could possibly go wrong?)
(what SHOULD have been my inner monologue: Oh hell no. What are you thinking? You have a bad back? What if you fall? What if you land funny? Do NOT do this!!!)

First, let me say I have done many stupid things in my life. Too many to count. But this--of all the dumbass things I have ever done--ranks in the top ten. Possibly top five.

OK, who am I kidding? Top two.

I gleefully, like a small child, ran up the steps and did an epic leap complete with what was meant to be air guitar and then crashed HARD on the wet  grass right on my coccyx. The impact was so astonishingly painful that I could do nothing but pant and cry.

And swear. I said the F word about a dozen times. I am not proud of this. But it really hurt like f*ck.

The impact would have definitely been enough to shatter my coccyx and snap it completely off of my sacrum (see illustration above) had I not already had the pleasure of doing that in 1998 running down our highly polished wooden floors in my sock feet to quickly grab a drink between the commercial break of Law and Order.

So I suppose, lucky for me, it was already broken. Because for the last twenty years i have had chronic back pain and trouble sitting. I KNEW better than to leap off of some high object because LEAPING always results in LANDING and usually that mean landing BADLY.

But, in the excitement of the moment I felt like a kid again and I was having fun and I forgot for a few crucial moments that I have a weak, middle aged body with a broken coccyx.

AI (After Incident) a horrified Nicky (who I think in her wildest dreams never imagined things could go quite so pear shaped) helped me walk home while I sobbed and dry heaved and tried to reassure her I would be fine.

I got upstairs (oh yes...we live in a first floor flat which has 1.5 flights of stairs) and took some codeine and put some ice on my back and cried my little heart out over my stupidity.

My friend Laura (also in the broken coccyx club) bought me some topical pain relief creams like Ibuprofen Gel and left them downstairs for Spiderman to bring up when he got home from work.

It has taken me three days to type this as it involves sitting and my back currently doesn't like sitting.

But someday again it will. I will always have chronic pain. You can't have a broken coccyx without it. But it will get better. I have good days and bad days. This has been a couple of bad days, but after a few months they will be good days again.

But in the future I will resign my actions in my Action Dress™ to running, jumping climbing mountains.

Or maybe just walking. Or standing still. Sigh....

Magical Mystery Tour, part three

Day three Magical Mystery Tour

Heatwave! This is my island in the sun! (1)

Temperatures rise, but our welcome is warmer.

Meeting for Worship (don’t forget the fan!) (2)

A “Feast of fat things” followed by breaking (gluten free) bread and sharing (vegan) food with Friends who are friends. (3)

The big surprise! My favourite munchkins! So grown up and nearly as

  

as me. (4)

Eating, chatting, laughing, and hugging then time to say farewell. 

There were no monkeys on the train (they were undoubtedly on strike due to the heat) that took us to the Hot Hotel. (5)

(Have I mentioned there was a HEATWAVE???) 

Our room was at the tippy tip-top.

6 flights of stairs and 69 steps. 

I counted.

{Every time}

It was like a garret for starving artists. (6)

We left the heat of the room (69 steps down. I counted) and went to 

 for

 (7)

Then back to the Hot Hotel and its 69 steps (I counted) to the tippy tip-top for fevered dreams.

(1) Have I ever told you we were having a heatwave?

(2) Meeting for Worship is what Quakers call church. Our Meeting House has big beautiful windows where you can see trees and birds and feel at one with God and nature, but consequently, they let it LOTS of heat. A bit like starting a fire with a magnifying glass. Thankfully, Miranda saved the day and brought a fan.

(3) The words “a feast of fat things” come from Isaiah 25:6 and is often used by Quakers to describe a Meeting for Worship where the spontaneous ministry was good. Also, Quakers call themselves Friends of Truth (with a capital F) so we have Friends who are friends. They provided a delicious picnic and there were so many vegan and gluten free options we were spoiled for choice. Thanks to all those Friends who provided the delicious food. 

(4) Because our Meeting House has only a small children’s group, they only do Children’s Meeting (Sunday School) once a month. I used to oversee the Children’s Ministry when we lived in England, so I knew all the children quite well. This week was NOT Children’s Meeting, so I thought I would not get to see all my favourite kiddos. However, the families came from 12-1 so we could have a visit and my heart was so happy. Those little munchkins are no longer little!

(5) Our hotel was lovely, but it was an English hotel, so no air conditioning (but they did give us two fans) and toilets and showers down the hall.

(6) It was a tiny little garret room much like you would have seen in La Bohème or its modern-day counterpart Rent. Thankfully we did not die tragically from TB (or whatever starving artists die from these days.)

7) Tibits used to be our favourite restaurant in London. They have all this amazing, fresh, healthy, delicious food on a buffet and you pay by the weight of how much food you choose. Also, they have this delicious, refreshing ginger lemonade that is sharp and tangy and super refreshing on a hot day and now comes in a large size.

Stay tuned for part four of the Magical Mystery Tour. 

Being Elsa

This post is not a pretty one because I am about to expose some of my worst qualities.

No one likes to think they are flawed, but we all are. No one is perfect. We all struggle. We all have our own personal demons. We all "wrestle with an angel until the breaking of the day."

The things I like best about myself  are my exuberance for living and my generous nature. I am often so happy that I am actually dancing down the street. I laugh openly and loudly and everywhere I go, I have a wonderful time. I love to do things for others, I get enormous pleasure baking, making cards, doing sewing repairs and sharing the love. You need something done? If I am capable of doing it, it is done. Need something I have? You can have mine. What can I give here instead of What can I get here is my motto.
                                 
But there is dark side that lurks in my heart that is full of anger and bitterness.

If holding grudges were an Olympic sport..I *just* might win a medal. Not the gold...but definitely the silver or bronze.

And that really shames me.

Because I am such a passionate and dramatic person, I can't seem to simply *retell* a story..I have to *relive* it. So just telling Spiderman a story of something that happened where I felt hurt means that I feel hurt all over again.

I am a sensitive soul, and I have always subscribed the philosophy:

Hurt me once, shame on you.

Hurt me twice, shame on me. 

Which sounds like I am releasing the person and the letting go of the pain they caused, but clearly I am not. Just ask me about the time that my grandmother stole my play-doh when I was three and smashed up my elephant and made a kangaroo and liked it so much she decided to KEEP IT...well, you can see I'm still not quite over that one 44 years later. 

So what has triggered this bout of self reflection?

This year is my 30th high school reunion.

Yeah, I am old.

And because a Face Book page has been set up so everyone can discuss the reunion, I have had several unexpected friend requests.

These have been from people who really did a great job of trying to make me feel small and insignificant back in high school. They seemed offended by my zest for life and bizarre fashion sense and made it their mission to belittle me with hurtful words or withering glances and now they wanted to be my friend.

I was troubled by this (to say the least).

My first reaction was a foolish prideful one that went something like this:
                                                 

Yes, of course I would be delighted to be your friend and give you a window into my life. You once spread rumours that I should be voted Most Likely to Commit Suicide by the age of 25 (and insinuated that I aught to go ahead and do it to decrease the surplus population). You will see that I am really happy and blissfully in love with my best friend. We have lived in two different countries in the UK and are incredibly successful. Ha ha! You are stuck at a job (that I hope) you hate back in po-dunk Louisiana while I am swanning around Europe. Suck on that!! 

                                                     
I wasn't proud of that reaction, either.

I thought about the times that I had also made someone else's life unpleasant. I am ashamed to say, I can think of several. I have tried over the years to make amends for the wrong I have done others. Perhaps these people have regrets as well. I have grown up a lot and become a better person in the last 30 years, perhaps they have too.

Or perhaps they haven't.


The wise Sufi poet Rumi says:

Spotting faults in others is easy

and rehashing them, even easier,

but recognising your own faults

is real mastery.

The Bible says something similar:

Why do you look at the speck in your brother’s eye, but fail to notice the beam in your own eye? How can you say to your brother, ‘Let me take the speck out of your eye,’’ while there is still a beam in your own eye? You hypocrite! First take the beam out of your own eye, and then you will see clearly to remove the speck from your brother’s eye. Matthew 7:3-5

If I really wanted to release negative thoughts and feelings once and for all, I was going to have to dig deeper into myself. Because who is being hurt by holding on to feelings of anger and bitterness? ME, that's who. Not them. ME.

                                    

My new morning routine includes positive affirmations, circuit training and prayers all at the same time in an effort to feed two birds with one loaf  (the proverb formerly known as kill two birds with one stone) and has proved to be enormously effective in strengthening my body, mind and spirit. I spent several days sweating it out with God, pouring my heart out to Him. Then throughout the day I would listen and hear what He wanted me to do. 

This is what we have come up this:

1. I do not have to accept their friend request. 

2. I do have to pray for them 

(But I say unto you, Love your enemies, bless those that curse you, do good to those that hate you, and pray for those who speak evil about you, and persecute you; Matthew 5:44)

3. I do have to spend time every day sending them love and positive thoughts. I must wish for them everything that I desire for myself e.g love, health, a home, nutritious food, friends etc. I have to do do this until my heart is no longer on fire with anger and bitterness. 

Only if I do these things will I be able to be Elsa and be able to

                                     

          So here I am on day four of "letting it go." It feels pretty good. I feel like early Quaker Robert Barclay who said:

I found the evil in me weakening and the good raised up.         

Amen.     

What Hatred Breeds, We Must Resist

I am deeply troubled about the situation in both the UK and US. During the referendum to decide whether the UK should stay or leave the European Union, there was so much talk about “us and them”—about “our kind and their kind”—about “white and anything else.” This sort of talk swayed many voters. Being part of the single market means the free movement of goods, services, capital, and people. The problem was how much emphasis was put on the free movement of people and no one quite considered the effect BREXIT would have on the free movement of goods, services, and capital.

In the US, I see Donald Trump and his supporters banning people—“Those people”—“not our kind of people”—different people”—“poor people.”

Neither country has looked at the heart of an individual, but rather looked upon his or her external qualities with suspicion and contempt. They could only see the differences.

We have more in common than we think.

Daisaku Ikeda said: When stones are cast at good people, when the rights of honest, hard-working people are trampled, we should be angry! When anyone anywhere around the world discriminates against another, we should burn with indignation! Raise your voices! Nothing suits the authorities better than the apathy of the people, then their feeling of powerlessness and their acceptance of violations of human rights."

And yet, I see many of my American friends burying their head in the sand and saying “It will be fine. God is in control. It’s only for four years, at the worst eight. Any executive orders that Trump signs can be undone by whoever follows him.”

This breaks my heart. I do not understand how those who profess to be people of faith can stand by and watch others suffer. Closing your eyes to the danger doesn't make it go away. Hoping or praying for things to change is not enough. We must all speak up, and we must speak up now.

To paraphrase John Donne:

No man is an island, entire of itself; every man is a piece of the continent, a part of the main. If a clod be washed away by the sea, Europe is the less, as well as if a promontory were, as well as if a manor of thy friend’s or of thine own were: any man’s [suffering] diminishes me, because I am involved in mankind, and therefore never send to know for whom the bells tolls; it tolls for thee.

I do not understand how the British people cannot see that being connected to Europe, to welcome the world with open arms, rather than turning our backs on it is a good idea.

When we see others being marginalised and do nothing, our silence will not provide protection. If we think it is acceptable to do this to others, then what happens we become the others? 

 Martin Niemöller famously said:

 First they came for the Socialists, and I did not speak out—

Because I was not a Socialist.

Then they came for the Trade Unionists, and I did not speak out—
Because I was not a Trade Unionist.

Then they came for the Jews, and I did not speak out—
Because I was not a Jew.

Then they came for me—and there was no one left to speak for me.

In the 1960s Martin Luther King, Jr. said: History will have to record that the greatest tragedy of this period of social transition was not the strident clamour of the bad people, but the appalling silence of the good people.

I have no problem with saying God is in control. But I truly believe what is happening is God is calling us to wake up. To remember who we are, who he wants us to be. If I truly believe that God is a God of Love and light in the darkness and I am made in his image, then I need to be out there being a beacon of love to all those who are in need.

At the end of my life, when I am asked What did you do? Who did you help? How did you show love and compassion? I want to have an answer.

Edmund Burke said, The only thing necessary for the triumph of evil is for good men to do nothing.

We must pray and then put our prayers into action. We must be the voice for the voiceless.

I leave you with this prayer. It is a Franciscan Benediction and always gives me strength.

May God bless us with discomfort
At easy answers, half-truths, and superficial relationships
So that we may live from deep within our hearts.

May God bless us with anger
At injustice, oppression, and exploitation of God's creations
So that we may work for justice, freedom, and peace.

May God bless us with tears
To shed for those who suffer pain, rejection, hunger, and war,
So that we may reach out our hands to comfort them and
To turn their pain into joy.

And may God bless us with just enough foolishness
To believe that we can make a difference in the world,
So that we can do what others claim cannot be done:
To bring justice and kindness to all living beings.

Amen

And now back to your regularly scheduled post election coverage

I had written about our voting experience and my passionate beliefs about using your right to vote, but I hadn't followed it up with election results. it was just too painful and disappointing to talk about. I wanted to write about happy things like our Mysterious Benefactor. But it is time to face the music.

 Yeah, we are pretty gobsmacked at the election results--with all the vocal people who were so anti-Tory it was a real slap in the face to see Cameron re-elected.  It feels a bit like when George W Bush got a second term in office. We didn't see that coming either. We were living here when that happened and were so careful to order our overseas ballots so we could vote against him. It didn't help.

But my greatest worry at the moment is that our shining example of the Peter Principle Michael Gove (worst  Education Secretary *EVER*--he was removed and became Chief Whip for a bit) has just been moved to the position of Justice Secretary. Holy crap, the damage he could do. He screwed up our school system so badly. He is charged with scrapping the Human Right's Act and replacing it with British Bill of Rights. God help us all. Plus back in the 1990s when he was a journalist he was very in favour of bringing back hanging--and as (in) justice secretary he might try to do just that.

My other big worry is about the Trident Nuclear Weapons.  2016 is when the renewal of Trident comes up in Parliament.  The Tories are in favour of it. I am not. Weapons of mass destruction that we vow to never use which costs us billions of pounds a year seem a ridiculous expense when Britain is suffering under austerity measures and cuts made by Cameron in his last term. We need money for the NHS. We need money for schools. we need money to help people who are living below the poverty line. Since the Tories have been in power, food bank usage has risen over 200% in this country. Some of this has been from "creative" ways to raise money like the bedroom tax (where your housing benefit can be reduced if you have a spare bedroom. Child off away at college but comes home for breaks? Doesn't matter. Person disabled and all their equipment like wheelchair, breathing machines etc stored in extra bedroom? Doesn't matter). This has caused people already living at the poverty line to move into despair. There has been more than one instance where someone felt so hopeless that they could not pay their bills with their housing benefit cut that they committed suicide.

I have just signed a petition to let the government know we still feel strongly about Trident. The more people who get behind this issue, the more likely it is that decision makers will pay attention. Every name added to the petition takes it one step closer to succeeding.

You can go here if you want to sign it yourself: http://you.38degrees.org.uk/petitions/trident-time-to-move-on

Spread the word on Twitter and Facebook please.

Lastly, I am very concerned with the Conservative Party wanting to legalise fox hunting again. But this is a class issue. According to activist and legendary Queen guitarist Brian May, David Cameron "stands for privilege, for the continuation and acceleration in the difference between the extremely rich and the extremely poor."

May goes on to say, "it's beyond belief anyone can find pleasure in torturing animals to death. This government, they are basically fox hunters. Moreover, they are proud of it. People who are prepared to ride roughshod over animals are prepared to ride roughshod over people. They shouldn't be running the country."

Amen.

But they are. So what can we do?

Protest. Show your displeasure. Sign petitions. Write your MP. Give a damn.

Will you do it with me?

edited to add: you might want to check out this excellent post about the election from Jack Monroe.  www.agirlcalledjack.com/2015/05/10/post-election-post-mortem/












                                                                 

Q: What do you call a rabbit who is always telling jokes?

A: A funny bunny! Boom Boom!

 What is the best part of celebrating Christmas? Why the crackers of course! You get a paper hat and a groan worthy joke, what’s not to love? Plenty I hear Spiderman whisper in my ear. I am ignoring you, honey.

 Why not do the same for Easter?

 

It seems I am not alone in this idea as a quick internet search shows lots of shops are cashing in on this idea and making loads of money off of it. There’s probably also contains a “cheap plastic toy with limited functionality” (to quote our friend Matazone Haggis) which was always the worse, most useless bit.

 

What can a poor but resourceful Spidergrrl do? Make them herself for FREE. That’s right AM DDIM. That’s Welsh for free. We had friends come to stay for Easter weekend so I thought this would be a perfect way to celebrate. More on our lovely visit in another post.

 

When our lovely friends Lorna and Rachel came to visit us a month ago they brought some reusable, refillable plastic Easter eggs. At Christmas when the Quakers sent us a huge parcel of deliciousness it came with several sheets of lavender tissue paper which I carefully saved.

So I cut some lovely crowns from the tissue (lavender is such a spring colour) and wrote some Easter/spring/rabbit jokes that I found on the internet on little bits of paper.

 

Then I folded them up tight and popped them in the eggs. Presto! Instant crackers.

 

OK, they don’t go BANG! like the Christmas ones do, but they look like eggs so it totally makes up for it. Spiderman really hates the BANG! so this is a little nod  in his direction that says I hear you honey. I have made them as painless as I can.

 

I *still* made him wear the hat. 

Diolch Ffrindiau

This means thank you friends in Welsh. I have a lot to be thankful for. Every night when Spiderman and I bless our food we say:

 

We give thanks O Lord

For food when many walk in hunger,

For faith when many walk in fear,

For friends when many walk alone,

We give thanks to you O God and

May all that have life be delivered from suffering.

Amen.

 

It is not really the way that Quakers tend to pray. Normally they hold a silent thought before a meal, but since we have been in Wales we have felt the need to do more--to acknowledge our blessings verbally.

 

We were blessed with a visit from friends this past weekend. I guess you could also say it was a visit from Friends as Friends (Of Truth) is another word for Quakers. When we arrived in Cymru six months ago, I had a bit of hard time adjusting. I was homesick and lonely and unemployed. I missed my church family and friends back in England. While things are considerably better now--I am still unemployed but I am not so homesick or lonely as I once was--it was with great excitement that some of our Quaker friends discussed the possibility of coming to Wales for a weekend.

 

It seemed like such a difficult thing to arrange--one of those ideas that sound good in theory but then when you look into the logistics of it couldn’t really be done. I tried not to get my hopes up and seem casual in our email exchanges but I know my heart was just wanting it so badly. I really miss these people--they were a huge part of my life both spiritual and social and I wanted to show them around our new town and new life in Cymru.

 

Well reader, it happened. They came.

 

Friday night Rachel and Lorna N arrived after five and half hours in the car. I couldn’t believe they were willing to drive that long just to see us. To be fair, the actual drive was more like four and half hours with two half an hour pit stops but still. That is a *long* way to come for the sake of friendship.

 

But they came anyway.

 

We went out for a delicious Chinese meal at Sai Wu, the restaurant owned by our friend Soong. They came back for the quick tour of our flat and for a slice of date cake and then back to their hotel to bed.

 

Saturday morning the weather was *perfect* --the daffodils were blooming, the sky was blue and the sun was shining and I was in my short red spring coat as opposed to my long pink winter coat. Hoorah!!! Spiderman gave us the day together because he knew I needed a visit more than he did. He got his visit later that night over dinner and conversation that lasted until nearly midnight.

 

We three ladies pottered around the many shops that Carmarthen has to offer. There are at least eight charity shops and several interesting independent retro crafty type places so we ambled about from around 10am to about 4pm (stopping in the middle for a cup of tea and sandwiches). We all had a nap and then they came over for dinner and we ate mushroom barley soup http://spidergrrlvstheworld.blogspot.co.uk/2014/11/souper-supper.html  and date cake http://spidergrrlvstheworld.blogspot.co.uk/2014/10/this-is-date-to-bake-cake.html and we talked and laughed and told stories and discussed politics and laughed some more. It was a truly uplifting experience.

 

We didn’t actually subject them to our blessing as that feels like a personal religious choice and we didn’t want to make them feel uncomfortable but I did make them listen to a seasonal poem as we are counting our way towards the spring equinox on March the 20th. I have even decorated my seasonal tree in it’s spring attire.

The next day we met then at Café Nero for a cuppa before they got on the road. We were having such an interesting discussion about the American South (Last year Lorna took a trip to Nashville as well as further down south) that I think we didn’t want it to end. But they said goodbye and drove home and we walked home in the drizzle (I was back wearing my long pink winter coat again).

 

It was, without a doubt, one of the best weekends I’ve had. It reminds you that if you are truly friends then distance and time do not matter. You can pick up right where you left off. Just seeing them was gift enough but did I mention they also brought pressies?????

 

Seriously. Boxes and bags of goodies from Quaker Friends back in Hitchin. Knowing our finances are a wee bit on the tight side (we are, after all, Mr and Mrs Church Mouse) Friends sent expensive food treats like olive oil, cashew nuts, coconut milk and tamarind paste (can you say curry????) plus delicious but totally out of our price range maple syrup. Luxury!  They sent posh snacks like apricot chia bars, chocolate covered raspberries, dried apricots, mixed nuts and two (count ’em two) kinds of hand cooked crisps. Yeah…we’ve actually eaten most of the snack stuff already. Plus two varieties of herbal tea! 

There were also three (count ‘em three) jars of homemade jellies and jams. Yes please!!!!

There were fabric remnants from their fabric stashes that had long lain unused and were looking for someone to think of a use for them. Me! Pick me! I can use them! 

There were card making crafty bits like fancy paper and little wooden doodads which filled me with so many ideas I could hardly wait to make something.

 

There were also several craft kits and projects and game ideas --plastic fillable Easter eggs anyone??? Oh the fun we will have!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

There were thoughtful cards from several of our friends back in England that I will treasure because of their kind messages.

 It would have been a perfect weekend with just their company but I gotta say…the pressies were really nice! Food and crafts and books! Oh, I forgot the  books!!

 Lorna found some a trilogy of interesting books all about Merlin the magician (who was born in a cave outside Carmarthen dontcha know!) in a charity shop and bought them for me. How kind.

It truly let me know how blessed we are--with good food, good friends and a shared faith that draws us together.

Diolch o galon! Heartfelt thanks!