I am the Lorax, I speak for the trees

It happened. It finally happened. They pollarded our trees. We knew the day would come, but it was a shock nonetheless. We live opposite a Medieval church and our front window looks onto the Cloisters--a green sanctuary of trees and a few graves. We have named all the trees after people from the Bible--it seemed fitting somehow being opposite the church. But now Jesus, Mary and Joseph have been pruned back. When you pollard a tree you leave the trunk but cut all the branches. It leaves a very awkward looking tree for a time until it grows back.

I am sad that these beautiful, majestic trees have had to be cut back so severely--and quite so ugly. But it needed to be done. They were smack up against the flat and were causing all sorts of trouble such as clogged gutters which caused a leaky roof and  mildew on our ceilings. We also had no light coming through the bedroom window making early mornings a bit of bother.

But now, they are gone. Well not gone, but  unrecognizable as trees. It is no wonder that the character from Little Britain is named Vicki Pollard--it is an ugly sight. But all is not lost. Cutting back will make them grow back thicker and more beautiful. It may take time, but they will be trees once more. And at least we still have the Disciples to look at.

Talk about Suffering

The Boudicca monologue has really got me thinking about suffering--specifically why we suffer and where is God when we do. She and her daughters suffered terribly at the hands of the Romans, but then caused the suffering of thousands of innocent men, women and children in her revenge. Then the Romans destroyed her army and they suffered terribly. Where were the Gods when all this was going on? Boudicca felt she had firm assurance from the Gods that they were in the right and would win.

Where is God now when we suffer?  I have been reading some Bible commentary to see what are the Biblical views of suffering and the answers were surprising. There is a lot of talk of “we suffer because we are sinful.” We have done something wrong to deserve to be punished. The God of the Old Testament sure thought so. He compared his people to a whore and wiped out whole families and cities because his children were disobedient. In the book of Job, God inflicts pain and suffering but won’t say why. I find it hard to identify with a God who would beat, wound, torture and kill people and then refuse to explain himself just because he could. Some people say that God is a mystery and we can’t or don’t need to understand. He abuses us and we are supposed to love and obey him unconditionally. If that were a child in my school, we’d have called child protection services.

 Quite frankly,  I always found the God of the Old Testament to be a bit of a dick .I have been told before many times by well meaning Christians that my husband got cancer 15 years ago because he must have done something to deserve it. A lack of faith or some other transgression.  I can’t believe in a God who randomly picks people off for his pleasure. But then I think about all the suffering people in places where there are crippling droughts or floods or famines . What did they do to deserve it? I once had someone tell me it is because they don’t know Jesus as their saviour and God is punishing them for their lack of faith. That’s bollocks. I’m sorry--for a talk about God there seems to be lots of swearing going on. But I feel that strongly.

I do sometimes think that perhaps God is punishing the wrong people. It is the western world’s decadence and waste that is causing the ozone layer to disappear and furthering Global Warming which in turn affects the poorest populations with drought, disease and famine. They are punished vicariously by our wastefulness. Is it God who is punishing them for our foibles or is it Nature? And why do THEY suffer when WE are at fault?

Some people believe that suffering is  because “we have free will.” God does not always protect us from our own or other’s mistakes. (see above: Global warming causing drought and famine) God gives people the freedom to smoke cigarettes, eat fatty foods, and overindulge in sweet treats.  Then people are angry when they get lung cancer or diabetes or heart disease and blame God. But a lifestyle freely chosen that increases your chance of getting one of these illnesses is not God’s fault. You are suffering because you chose to have that third Big Mac. But what about people like my Mother-In-Law who died of lung cancer and never smoked a day in her life? How do we reconcile that with the idea of “they were sinners and got what they deserved?” God gives people the freedom to drink and drive.  If that drunk driver kills my loved one are they being punished for the sin of choosing something harmful? Why then am I punished? And what am I going to do about it?

Some people think that suffering is blessing to draw us closer to God. Or those who are chosen to suffer something really horrific it is because God is testing them. If that is the test, I am not sure I want to take part. I do think suffering can draw us closer to God. Sometimes all we have is him. When Spiderman had cancer we had been married for 4 years and I was seriously looking at the possibility of widowhood at age 27. I was absolutely paralysed with grief and fear and sometimes God was the only thing holding me up. But I  recall not being able to say the Lord’s Prayer. The words “Thy will be done” stuck in my throat like a fishbone. If I said them it was like giving God permission to let him die. To paraphrase The Muppet’s Christmas Carol: And Spiderman? Who did NOT die! Gee, that’s swell! He survived and the disease really changed our relationship. Our marriage grew stronger and suddenly it was abundantly clear to not sweat the small stuff. Little things were not worth stressing about. To spend every day deeply in love as if it was our last. And then a few years later when my beloved father got brain cancer, the experience with Spiderman gave me strength to help my father die with dignity. Without the suffering I would never have been able to cope with the death of my father and I would not have had the strength to support my mother. And since that time I have been able to be compassionate and help others who have suffered with cancer and give them hope. I was very lucky to befriend a young girl who spent 2 years fighting bone cancer and finally died at the age of 15. She was able to talk honestly about her illness and her fears--not of dying but of the profound grief of her mother and the pressure she felt to hold on for her sake. She enriched my life deeply as I hope I enriched hers.

I genuinely still don’t know why there is so much suffering in the world. Some things I think we cause like famine and drought and tsunamis and floods due to our output of greenhouse gasses. Some things I think we could prevent like that clearly mentally ill man who needed help and instead was sold a gun and shot that congresswoman and several bystanders. Sometimes we turn a blind eye because it is easier. Some things just seem so random. But does God turn a blind eye? If he does not CAUSE these things to happen or PREVENT them from happening---then what is his role in all this?

Suffering is not God’s desire for us, but it occurs in the process of life.  Suffering is not given to teach us something, but through it we learn.  Suffering is not given to punish us, but sometimes it is the consequence of our sin or poor judgment.  Suffering does not occur because our faith is weak, but through it our faith may be strengthened.  God does not depend on human suffering to achieve his purposes, but sometimes through suffering his purposes are achieved.  Suffering can either destroy us, or it can add meaning to our life.   Seeing Gray in a World of Black & White by Rev. Adam Hamilton

Sometimes bad things happen to good people. Rabbi Harold Kushner  says:

We too need to get over the questions that focus on the past and on the pain--"why did this happen to me?"--and ask instead the question which opens doors to the future: "Now that this has happened, what shall I do about it?"

Will I use my suffering experience to empathise with people? Will I help relieve the suffering of others as much as I can? Will I work hard to reduce my carbon footprint and educate others on doing the same so that we may halt Global Warming and save the planet from destruction? 

What else can I do? What will you do?

B-B-B-B-Boudicca!

I was treated to a song about Boudicca (complete with hand motions!) by one of the classes that I performed for yesterday. It was wonderful—they truly put in a huge amount of effort. Their enthusiasm reminds me why I love to work with children.

After the show yesterday I had my photo made with both classes. All those eager faces with me in the middle as a tall and fierce warrior queen! But Spiderman so kindly pointed out that I was only head taller (if that) than the group of children. These are year 4 (US 3^rd graders)!! Sigh… so much for tall and fierce.

The other class made me cards—all beautifully decorated. The girls mostly drawing me as very glamorous with my long hair and costume and the boys mostly drawing the weapons (I have provided translations for those who cannot read invented spelling)

 Some of favourite cards were:

My favrit part was evrythink. You looked very pritty on stag.

(My favourite part was everything. You looked pretty on stage.)

Another vote for my good looks:

You looke verey pritte and I love your coychum.

(You look very pretty and I love your costume.)

I started the play with my back to the audience. Here is my favourite confessional:

Then you terned around and if you herd a voice that was me. So sorry for that.

The time management award goes to:

Thank you for wasting your time for us you were the best prfomer (performer)

The I should be on telly comment:

You cold have won Britan got talent whit that prfomance.

(You could have won Britain’s Got Talent with that performance.)

The cheeky bugger award:

Kill the romans! Can I have your spear?

But my favourite (and not just because it is articulate run on) has to be this one:

I learned so much from the show it looked like you had practised that one million times a day you answered so many of the questions that were in my head about boudicca and some things I didn’t no like eating the leaf of a eue tree (Yew tree)

At the end someone asked about my dagger I showed them it was plastic and then stabbed myself with it—everyone GASPED!!!!! Because it is a trick dagger with a retractable blade. I had many comments like this:

When you pretendid to stap youself i thout you had achelly did it.

(When you pretended to stab yourself I thought you actually did it.)

Even today many children stopped me and asked a question about Boudicca or the Romans. To get children interested in history makes it worth it indeed.

Boudicca Tells Her Story

Today at school I am portraying the ancient Celtic queen Boudicca (sometimes spelled Boudica)  who single-handedly raised an army against the Romans and completely destroyed three cities, killed all their inhabitants as an act of revenge before she was defeated in 61 AD. She is really famous here (sort of like Joan of Arc is to France) so much so that there is a statue of her in her chariot waving a spear in London. Click on the picture to get the full detail (but please ignore all the crap on the table)

We know little about her life. What we do know comes from 2 Roman sources--the accounts of Tacitus and Cassius Dio. But little to nothing is known of her early life, not the year she was born or the tribe to which she belonged. We do know she married into the Iceni tribe when she wed an older man king named Prasutagus and had 2 daughters--but there is no record of their names.

When the Romans conquered Southern England they allowed them to become “Client Kings”. This meant that the Celts would bow down to the Roman ruling class, but when not in the presence of any Romans could live and worship as they pleased. To seal the deal the Romans gave then gold and gifts. Then Nero became emperor and it all went pear shaped. He demanded back the loans the Romans had given them. Loans? What loans? I hear you say and quite rightly. Those gifts of gold and gifts were being demanded back with interest. The stress from it all caused Prasutagus to shuffle off this mortal coil leaving Boudicca right in the thick of it. Nero sent soldiers to strip their household (and the households of the rest of the Iceni) of all possessions. Then he took Boudicca and her 2 daughters to a public place and stripped Boudicca and whipped her while soldiers raped her daughters. And as my mum said, “Then she really got pissed.”

Boudicca raised an army of Celts and they attacked 3 Roman cities. First Camulodonum (now Colchester) then Londinium (now London) then Verilamium (now St Albans--which has a cracking Roman museum by the way) They slaughtered everyone--men, women and children and burned ever building to the ground. It all happened so fast the Romans didn’t know what hit them. They tended to cut the heads from the men and hang them from their chariots as trophies and they are reported to have cut the breasts from the women, stuffed them in their mouths, sewn the mouths shut and then impaled them on spikes for good measure. I can’t quite see Boudicca and her emergency repair kit sewing up these women’s mouths but that is the report from Tacitus. Why didn’t the Roman army fight back sooner? Well, their military leader Seutonius was off on the Isle of Mona fighting the Druids and without a leader to tell them what to do the army was just wiped out with the rest of them. The Celts were fierce warriors who fought savagely, screaming the whole while to freak out their opponent. Many of the men fought naked, their bodies  painted up blue with woad. A naked, hairy, blue, screaming Celt running towards me with a sword? You bet I’d be scared.

But finally Seutonius returned and find the perfect place to do battle. A river surrounded by forest. Boudicca’s troops crossed the river and tried to attack but hadn’t realized that the valley narrowed inwards so much. Basically, the got stuck. The horses and chariots couldn’t move forward--they were wedged between a rock and hard place. Literally. The Romans picked them off with ease with spears. The Celts needed hand to combat and close quarters to kill you and they couldn’t get anywhere near the Romans.  So what happened to Boudicca and her daughters?

The truthful answer is no one really knows. Roman records say she poisoned herself rather than be made a slave to Rome. But how do we know this? And if she did it, then how did she do it? What sort of poison did she use?

This is where I had to be creative in my research. I could not believe that she would have carried a vial of poison into the final battle because I feel certain she believed they would win. So what then? My research showed that the ancient Celts were very knowledgeable with plant lore and used herbal medicines. I figured she would know what plant you could find in the forest to do yourself in. I tried to think of every poisonous plant I could think of--but none of those could be found in the region of where we suspect the last battle to have taken place. Some of them weren’t even native to England. But I finally decided on the Yew tree. It is probably the most poisonous tree in Britain. Every part is poisonous--leaves, bark--and even fallen leaves and clippings can kill you if ingested. If you are using the wood in a woodworking project, even the sawdust that you breath in can kill you. According to the book I read One mouthful is enough to kill you! Plus you die a really quick death from muscle tremors, staggering, difficulty breathing, collapse and finally heart failure! I could act that out! Plus having the added bonus that the Yew tree was considered sacred by the Druids, so a bit of irony interposed into it.

   The hardest thing for me, being very uncoordinated, was to wield the weapons as if I knew what I was doing. I had to use a sword for slashing and decapitating, a dagger for stabbing, a spear for combat and impaling and lastly a sling. When I hear the term sling I think sling shot--like Dennis the Menace always had hanging out his back pocket. But no, this was like the sort of sling David killed Goliath with in the Bible. You put a rock in it, whirl it round your head and let go and the rock flies out killing someone. Well, let me say, if I had used a real rock I probably would have killed someone. My sling was weighted to make it whirl better and I have lots count of the number of times I hit myself in the head with it.

I like these monologues I do for my school. They give me a chance to do many things I love--research, write, sew costumes, perform. The show is followed by a Q&A with me as Boudicca answering questions. Then I talk as myself discussing the research and how things were put together. The whole thing lasts an hour and is a good fun and great learning experience to finish a history unit.

The Spirit of God at work

I recently had the pleasure of spending the day at the Bhaktivedanta Manor--the Hare Krishna Temple and dairy farm. I’ve told you all about the cows, but there was much more to it than that.

Quaker Faith and Practice includes a section called Advices and Queries. They are a reminder of the insights of the society and are there to help us question ourselves and take stock of our relationship with the Divine--whatever we may call it. They help us to think about our lives and ask the deep questions of the soul.

Advices and Queries 5 begins with:

Take time to learn about other people’s experiences of the Light.

My friend Gemma is a Hare Krishna. Her experiences are like mine and unlike mine. She has a deep and personal relationship with her God just as much as I have with mine. We spent much of the day talking about how God shines in our lives and how we want to know him better. She would tell me something from her Holy Book about Krishna and I could find a similar saying from the Bible. We were speaking the same language, just calling Him by a different name.

Advices and Queries 6 says:

Do you work gladly with other religious groups in the pursuit of common goals? While remaining faithful to Quaker insights, try to enter imaginatively into the life and witness of other communities of faith, creating together the bonds of friendship.

At school, I work primarily with Muslim children. I have found great strength in my friendships with them. Their faith is deep and abiding. Their love and devotion to Allah real and warm. We have often talked about our similarities --many Old Testament stories are in the Koran and Jesus is revered as a prophet. Children know they can speak to me about their love of God because I radiate a love for my God. Visiting Gemma seemed the most natural thing in the world. I wanted to participate in her devotional life for a day. I wore a sari and attended a service where we bowed down as the Muslims do with their forehead to the floor and then sang and chanted joyously to music. We spoke together of our common beliefs--that eating animals is wrong and that we must care for the earth. That we want a life where we spent time with God every day--hers chanting his name with the Hare Krishna mantra and me in quiet time.

We talked of the common feeling of sometimes not being able to settle into prayer. A distracted mind that wanders with each outside disruption and the gentle pulling back and gaining stillness again. 

Advices and Queries 12 says:

When you are preoccupied and distracted in meeting let wayward and disturbing thoughts give way quietly to your awareness of God’s presence among us and in the world.

We spoke of the need for simplicity. How many people hate their lives, hate their jobs? They work at something they hate and are angry and unfulfilled and try to fill that empty space with material possessions. This just brings about more debt and more feelings of hopelessness and hate. What they really need is God. Gemma is a nun. Her needs are managed by the Temple. She lives and works there tending the cows in exchange for food and a roof over her head. Spiderman and I have chosen to live simply. When we lived in Louisiana we had an enormous 3 bedroom house and 2 vehicles and lots of STUFF, but we weren’t really happy. We moved to England to change the way we lived. To tread lightly on the earth, to join the Quakers and to live within our means in a place appropriate for 2 people. We chose not to drive and are blessed to live in a town that a person can walk to work and to the shops. We don’t have a television or the internet at home and we don’t own a mobile phone. We do have a DVD player because we like to watch films, but to pay for  a TV Licence when there is so little of value to watch is a waste of money and time. I have chosen to dress simply to reflect my Inner condition and to avoid clothes made in sweatshops. Gemma wears a sari to worship but old clothes when dealing with the cows. It is not about how we look, but how we feel inside. We talked a lot about wants versus needs.

Advices and Queries 41 says: 

Try to live simply. A simple lifestyle freely chosen is a source of strength. Do not be persuaded into buying what you do not need or cannot afford. Do you keep yourself informed about the effects your style of living is having on the global economy and environment?

I found myself deepened into prayer as she deepened into prayer. I was greatly blessed by my time with her. We call him by different names, but God is God.

The most beautiful cows in the world

This is what my friend Gemma said to me when I went to visit her at Bhaktivedanta Manor --the Hare Krishna temple and dairy farm in Watford. She is a nun and a devotee of Krishna who has found her calling as a cow girl. She cares for their cows with the love and devotion of a mother. She knows all their names and they clearly look forward to her visits when she grooms them and feeds them and loves them and milks them. I would love to show you pictures, but alas the computer hates me and refuses to link them from her phtobucket site. But all is not lost! Here is a link to her blog where you can read all about the cows and how they are cared for.  http://thecowgirl108.wordpress.com/

I gave up dairy in 2004 when I realized what the dairy industry was all about. Overcrowded, cramped conditions. Cows indoors on hard concrete floors year round. Growth hormones and then antibiotics to repair the damage that growing too fast brings. Forcibly inseminated year after year so they continue to produce milk. And every calf born take away from the mother within hours of birth. Female calves to grow up to have swollen, distended, painful udders covered in sores that drip pus in milk (and the need for more antibiotics) and male calves turned into veal . Cows worn out after a few years from over milking and disease then slaughtered and turned into cheap beef. I have not had any milk or cheese since really understanding that store bought milk is blood milk.

These cows are different. They are well treated. They live in luxury. Well, they live the old fashioned way--the way Spiderman remembers cows grazing happily in a field near his house when they lived in Clinton back in the 1980s. No animal is given drugs or unnecessary medicines. Their udders are all quite small. This was shocking. I have only ever seen pictures of cows with huge  udders distended with mastitis. Their udders are hairy! Who knew? When they start to collect straw that has dung in it that might get into the milk and contaminate it, the udders are shaved with electric clippers.  In winter the live in a warm barn with plenty of hay and plenty of space to be themselves. In summer they are taken afield to eat the grass. Older ones with arthritis are segregated so young and frisky calves don’t topple them when playfully running around. ALL calves born are kept. Male and female alike. They are allowed to stay with their mother until they are weaned. The cows are milked but always there is enough milk for their babies as well as the Temple.  The males are working oxen ploughing the land, spreading the dung that is collected with the hay from the cows in the winter barn and pulling the cart that carries Hindu children (or school children) who visit the farm and want a ride.

I had a really enjoyable day there and was happy to eat the food which included milk and paneer cheese made from their cows. This is probably the only place I would feel comfortable eating dairy. Gemma was right--these really are the most beautiful cows in the world. They were all so big--so much bigger than I imagined. Especially the bulls! They have the most soulful eyes with long eyelashes (how I would love to have lashes like that!) and such kissable noses. Yes, you heard me correctly. There was one cow that Gemma said “She has such a kissable nose” and I thought, “Yeah, right” but when I saw it--it really was a kissable nose. I didn’t kiss it for fear of my allergies flaring up, but I would have.

I had a wonderful day with Gemma and the cows and even got to wear a sari! I was deeply moved by the presence of God all day. Like St Francis caring for the animals, Gemma has found her calling.

How can you get your name in lights all over the world?

Answer: Change your name to Emergency Exit!

Happy new year, one and all. I thought I’d start the new year with a joke because laughter really is the best medicine. Unless you’re Spiderman, in which case these jokes make you groan and shake your head.

Christmas Crackers are a British tradition. They are a wrapped tube filled with a paper hat, a joke and as our friend Matazone Haggis would say, “a cheap plastic toy with limited functionality.” But the best bit is they contain a strip of paper called a snap that contains a small amount of gunpowder. When you pull the cracker it goes BANG! And emits a slightly woodsy burned smell like a bonfire. That part is the best. Or not if you are Spiderman. He hates the BANG! It makes him wince. You cannot sell snaps (and I assume crackers as well) to minors as they are considered a firework. It has very strict instructions to use only one snapper cracker unless you are Mr Bean. He uses a bunch and blows up his house in a funny cartoonishly violent way.

For years I tried to buy them in the shops. They range from very cheap to very expensive. But they all contain plastic of some sort. I once spent £10 on Fair Trade ones from Oxfam that came with wooden toys inside instead of plastic but all the external wrapping bits and the hats were that weird foil that’s not foil and can’t be recycled. The whole pile of non-recyclable debris after Christmas made me sad. So what is a Spidergrrl to do who wants the joy but also the ability to recycle? Make them herself!

You can buy a packet of snaps here at craft stores. Everything else is stuff from around your home.

You need:

A packet of snaps (if you can’t find some you’ll just have to shout BANG!)

Toilet rolls

Newspaper

Coloured newspaper--like the funny pages

Sticky tape--this works even better if you have a groovy tape dispenser like I got for my 40th birthday. Thank you Spiderman!

Some funny jokes and scrap paper to write them on

You will notice that Spiderman has helpfully relabelled my packet of snaps. It used to say Cracker Snaps but he has changed it to Snacker Craps. Thank you, sweetheart.

Make you some paper hats. If you can fold them like a boat the way Curious George does in that book, then do so. I tend to cut more of a crown shape and then tape the ends together.

Find you some jokes and write them on scrap paper. If you google Christmas cracker jokes you will get literally hundreds of jokes to make you laugh until you cry (or make you shake your head and think about having your wife committed if you are Spiderman) Here are some to give you an example:

What did the dolphin say to the penguin?

You did that on porpoise!

How did the Vikings send secret messages?

By Norse code!

What did one snowman say to the other?

Can you smell carrots?

Find some good quality jokes and write them down. You may have been wanting to ask me, but hadn’t wanted to be rude and point out the obvious. Um, Spidergrrl you do realise Christmas is over now, don’t you? Why are you making these NOW? Well, I’m glad you asked. On New year’s day I like to do a little something of all the things I hope to do over the upcoming year. This includes paper crafts, laughter and being the Tigger to my beloved Eeyore. Besides if I make them a year in advance I can’t recall what jokes I put in and they are all the funnier when we open them up next Christmas. So there.

Finally, tape one snap into each tube then fill with a hat and a joke then wrap up with coloured newspaper. I use the covers of the G2 because Spiderman gets the Guardian at work. The covers are brightly coloured and have unusual designs. Like the black and white one with Medieval skeletons (it was an article about history but I like the look of the skeletons) or the yellow one with the atom jumping around (it was an article on science) There was also one that had a stack of books and another with a tree in winter. The last one was a lovely silhouette that looked like an illustration by  Jan Pienkowski.

The best bit is after you open and laugh at the joke and wear the paper hat (or not in Spiderman’s case. He will wear the hat but only under duress) you can recycle the whole lot! Or not as it were. The hats we had last year were still in good shape so I saved them back to reuse again until they fall apart. Hoorah! And happy new year!