Film Review: Noah.

Described by director Darren Aronfsky as “The least biblical biblical film ever made,” I was not expecting Noah the movie to be an exact word for word account of the story in Genesis! This would have been quite difficult to achieve as the biblical story in genesis is only four chapters long!

We also have another account, or  perhaps I should say another interpretation which inspired the launch (figuratively speaking) of a thousand toy arks and sets of paired jungle/farm/pet animals along with a smiley Mr & Mrs Noah made of anything from wood or plastic through to wool or cloth. The Noah’s Ark of our childhood always consisted of the smiley old Noah and the emphasis was placed firmly on the pairs of happy animals going on to the ark, two by two to “get out of the rain”. It ends happily with the dove returning with the olive leaf and animals tumbling out of the ark into the sunshine to all live happily ever after. (Quite right too when aimed at preschoolers!)

To me in some ways even the biblical Noah is a lot darker than the fluffy, cute childhood version suggests. As well as the biblical account, there is other evidence to show that there was indeed a great flood at that time. This can be found in an ancient poem “The Epic of Gilgamesh” and various other ancient writings.

For a God so intent on rescuing his fallen people (the Old and New Testament are full of stories of new starts and redemption, from Adam through to Jesus then on to Paul) the drowning of so many people seems out of character. As one with pacifist tendencies and who has developed a forgiving nature I find this difficult, however evil the people were. I’m sure some would disagree and would say that those who commit acts of evil should indeed die and there are plenty who would like to see the return of the death penalty. I struggle with some of the other Old Testament stories for the same reason, but as one friend once pointed out, those people were beyond any evil we have experienced, they are not basically nice people out washing their cars or a petty minded parking assistant, they were those who practiced such evils as human sacrifices, child abuse and other evil deeds, people who had lost touch with any sense of compassion or even respect of others and live only for their own selfish gratification without regard for anyone else’s needs or rights. Even as a not-quite pacifist I can see that sometimes normally accepted polite requests to stop or even the most skilled negotiations will not work.

The sins shown in the film are certainly extremely evil – genocide and the total destruction of the environment to name but two of them and the people who are left are clearly living in fear of the evildoers.

It’s quite a challenge to review a film without giving away the entire plot so I won’t go into too much detail as to exactly what happens. Those who are fazed by anything other than literal interpretation or those who are expecting a very biblical biblical epic will be frustrated or disappointed. Those who are not familiar with the biblical story won’t be able to tell what’s biblical and what’s not and will probably enjoy it at face value as a good film, which on one level it is.

 You can tell some research has been done into the genealogy of Noah and the film includes some of Noah’s ancestors. There is also a fair amount of “artistic licence” in how these characters have been developed. A connection between the families of Cain and Adam’s later son Seth is explored and developed in a creative way.  At times I felt as though I was watching a science fiction film and to me it had a kind of Star Warsy feel. A friend also likened it to Lord of the Rings. There are points where the biblical version and the film part company quite dramatically and this throws up some interesting issues and dilemmas which certainly got me thinking.  We don’t really know exactly what would have happened in the ark or what it would be like in that situation or what kinds of issues that family faced. It probably wasn’t as calm and serene as we would possibly think. As one who gets affected by sea sickness in any but the calmest of boats on the most tranquil of seas I think I would certainly begin to lose the plot a little! In this film there are certainly more than a few twists in the original tale. Did I enjoy it? Yes, once I got over the comparisons to the biblical version.  Would I recommend it? Not to anyone who likes a biblical story to be as it is in the bible or to anyone watching it because they want to understand more of the bible. However, it would be an interesting place to start a discussion or exploration, especially if you did follow it up with reading the biblical version. If you enjoy a good film with plenty of action and a few moral dilemmas thrown in then you may well enjoy it. Now, where’s my Evan Almighty DVD?

To read the real story of Noah and the Ark, you can find it in Genesis (At the beginning of the Bible,) chapters 6-9.

A Sea of Candles and a Hope of Heaven.

Many christian churches at this time of year ( around the time of All Souls Day) hold a service to remember loved ones who are no longer with us.

In our parish this is done  with other local churches from different denominations being involved in organising and leading it. Each priest/vicar/pastor writes to every individual or family they have had contact with throughout the year because they have taken a funeral service of a loved one or supported someone through a bereavement.

The service provides an opportunity to reflect on their memories of that person, to give thanks for their life and to light a candle in their memory. Prayers are said, hymns sung and appropriate bible readings and a short christian message is shared. It is a quiet and reflective time  - families who at the time of death and funeral were still in shock or deep distress have a chance to pray, reflect and give thanks a few months later. Grief hits us all and when it does, it comes in different stages at different times and moments like these can help with the grieving process. The memorial service is a peaceful, unhurried time. Each candle is lit and carried carefully and respectfully to the alter, each person represented is named in the prayers. When the service is over, everyone is invited to spend as much time as they need looking at those candles, praying or remembering in whatever way is best for them.

Along with others I stood looking at the sea of candles at this years service, one of them representing a member of my family. It struck me that there were a lot of candles, almost as many as there were people at the service, in fact. The flames flickered quietly, consistantly and calmly. Just as the candles were all the same, the many people of different ages and from different walks of life they represented all had one thing in common that those of us present didn't have; they had all passed from this earthly life into whatever happens next. Whatever our beliefs about a life after the one we have on this earth may be, there is an awful lot we don't know about it. Even within Christian theology there are different thoughts about it. All Christians (and people of all faiths and none) believe that there is life beyond the here and now and that it continues in some form or other. Christianity teaches about Christ's death and ressurrection and we believe that through his death on the cross we have everlasting life, given freely as an act of grace.

 We can't remember our life before birth. We would have felt warm, comfortable and would have been vaguely aware of some sounds. We didn't have the ability to think or try and work out where we were or that life could be any different. We couldn't possibly have comprehended the world which awaited us beyond birth, or even that birth could happen. Perhaps it is the same with the next life - we can't really comprehend a life beyond this one, much as we might like to speculate.

A word which came to mind as I looked at the candles was hope. Not the kind of hope which is inactive and cannot change things, however much you wish it could (I hope my team win the match tomorrow, or I hope an unemployed friend finds work soon), but a strong and confident hope, a hope of expectation, a looking forward in confidence that there is life beyond that which we know now. The hope that one day we would be united with those people represented by those candles, in a life we can't even begin to grasp, all made possible by a God who loves us more than we can comprened, loves us enough to face and conquer death once and for all so that we can live.

Palm Sunday Sermon 2013

Palm Sunday Sermon.           2013.

Readings: Zechariah 9:9-10

                   Matthew 21:1-11

What I would like to do this morning is to look a little more at the story in our readings this morning and then go on to look at the other events we remember during Holy Week.

Try to picture the scene: Jesus on the donkey, riding into Jerusalem, surrounded by people cheering him and waving palm branches. Alongside him are his disciples, his mother, other friends and followers who have come with him from Galilee and no doubt others who would have joined them along the way. Jerusalem would have been packed with Jews, there for the Passover celebrations. Jews living under the oppression of Roman occupation. They would have been waiting, hoping and longing for a King or someone to come and rescue them from their years of suffering, so any shouting about a coming King would have got their hopes up – was this the day – the long-awaited day, finally come at last? Some would have been  have been anticipating  a military-style leader, an aggressor, someone charging in on a horse, waving a sword around, accompanied by soldiers and shouting, looking to overthrow the Romans by force. This gentle guy on the donkey would have seemed a most unlikely candidate.

 As it says in our reading from Matthew, Jesus was riding the donkey to fulfil what the scriptures, written hundreds of years before had said, that the King, the King of the daughters of Zion would come riding on a donkey. Another significant fact was that the day before, he had been at a meal at the home of his friends Mary, Martha and Lazarus, where Mary had anointed his feet with a perfume called nard. Nard was no ordinary perfume, it was expensive stuff and was used for special purposes, such as the anointing of a king, in preparation for his buriel as Jesus explained when challenged by Judas. Mary was an astute woman – Jesus knew that and had allowed her to sit and listen when he was teaching a few weeks earlier, something a woman at that time would not normally do. It’s quite possible she was the only one who had really fully grasped what was soon going to happen to Jesus and wanted to prepare him in the best way she could. As well as being a rare and expensive perfume, nard was also a strong-smelling perfume, which, so John’s gospel says, filled the whole of the house with its fragrance. So it’s quite possible that as Jesus rode into Jerusalem he may well still have smelled of that perfume.

 Among the crowds as well as those anticipating the arrival of a military leader, there would have been others who had been watching and waiting faithfully. They would have known their scriptures, those verses from Zechariah which speak of the king riding a donkey and recognised what was happening. You can imagine their excitement.

In a large crowd, things happen fast, there’s an atmosphere of excitement. You are one of many, all wanting the same thing. And then there was no CCTV, no risk of being caught on camera and arrested for causing a disturbance. There is strength in numbers, anything can seem possible. Especially in a crowd consisting largely of people who had been oppressed for years, as we have seen in recent years in various Middle Eastern countries. Lost in the crowd you become anonymous and braver than usual and can shout out loud, hailing someone other than Ceaser as Lord and King, So you can imagine, the crowd from Galilee walking alongside Jesus, others who had gone on ahead of him, recognising who Jesus was, throwing down the palms and their cloaks ahead of him, shouting “Hosanna, Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord!” Once a few people start, others get drawn in, caught up in the heat of the moment. Could this be the day they’ve been waiting for so long? Now imagine the religious leaders and the Romans, wondering what was going on, what’s all the noise? It was busy, crowded and noisy anyway, but it would have been obvious something more was going on, and it seemed to be centred around the guy on the donkey, prompting the question, “Who is this man”? What was he doing, was he leading an uprising, a rebellion, perhaps? This may well have struck fear into the hearts of both the religious leaders and the Romans. Who is this? And the crowds shouted, this is Jesus, the prophet from Nazareth in Galilee. You can see how this would set the pattern for the various reactions to Jesus over the coming week as his presence was seen and felt in Jerusalem.

Among those who were present on that day would also be some who were present almost a week later on the day he died. Those who would stay as close by as they could, with him all the way to the end. And also those who would run away in fear and those who would call for his crucifixion and incite others to do the same.

So these verses set the scene for our Holy week, the week in which we look back on those last few days in Jesus life, culminating with our celebration of His resurrection on Easter Sunday. We enter the last week of lent, our time of thinking perhaps more deeply about repentance, about self denial and sacrifice as we reflect on Jesus’ giving of himself in so many ways. Christians observe lent and particularly Holy Week in a variety of ways.

There are those who use the stations of the cross, often various pictures or art work with accompanying prayers reflecting on those final moments from the moment Jesus was arrested right through to the resurrection. It’s a time of deep reflection as we remember the various people he encountered, remember his suffering and death and the pain of his mother and friends and that wonderful moment of joy as the reality of the resurrection dawned upon them.

 For me personally my Holy week journey begins on Palm Sunday, when I will read through the Gospel readings, a little each day from when Jesus has that meal at Mary and Martha’s house and is anointed with the perfume by Mary, then a little further on each day.  On Maundy Thursday, some Christians share in a feet washing service, remembering Jesus’ humility - hands that flung stars into space were the same hands which washed filthy, dirty feet as he took on the role of servant. Our servant king. Others share in a Passover meal on that Thursday, as Jesus himself would have shared what we now call the last supper, with his disciples, the meal which he took and transformed, which we now remember as he told us to, in our service of Holy communion. Then we reflect on the final moments before Jesus was arrested, his moments of prayer, crying out to his Father on the Mount of Olives. Then, there’s Good Friday, a day for looking back on the crucifixion and events leading up to it. We remember this by meditating on those final words from the cross, or by joining in a march of witness, as some of us did last year, along the road and into the town. It’s a very moving event, as we walk through the market place of our day, our silence a contrast to the busyness around us.

This year, during our Lent group, we were focussing on the death of Jesus and Howard mentioned how in the non-catholic churches we always use an empty cross as our symbol for our faith, but the catholics prefer to have a crucifix, a cross depicting Jesus’ crucifixion. We discussed how some non-catholics can find this difficult – because Jesus rose from death, our faith did not end with a dead man on a cross but with a resurrected Lord. But as Howard so rightly said, you can’t have one without the other. Our empty cross would not exist if it had not been cross with the dying Jesus on it first, it would be meaningless. So, much as we would rather not focus too much on that horrible death, it is an essential part of what happened. As adult Christians we need to focus on the suffering, both of Jesus and our own, rather than trying to brush it aside and focus only on the positive. A Christian faith that does not allow for suffering, for pain and grief is unrealistic and is also no good in the face of our own suffering. And to others are suffering and do not know Jesus it must seem even more unrealistic – how can we help those who are suffering if we pretend it does not happen, or try to persuade them that becoming a Christian will instantly take away any pain or problems? Rather, it would be more helpful to know that he understands our pain, that he cares very much and can help us to deal with whatever situations we face in a realistic way. That doesn’t mean either, that there is no place for celebration and for joy – our faith after all is about one who brings hope and life and gives us much to celebrate too.

 Good Friday helps us to focus on the human side of Jesus – the side that makes him different from any other god. He is the only one who came and lived as one of us, born into poverty, then right at the end instead of running away he chose to bear the worst of human suffering in his death on that cross – he is a God who truly understands us and loves us, not a remote being who demands from us but cannot enter in to our experience. Christians have lots of different ways of trying to explain exactly what happened on the cross and why, but we all believe it was an act of love and that because it happened Jesus gained victory over evil and destroyed the power of death. A the moment Jesus died, the curtain in the temple, which the Jews believed hid God from humankind was torn from top to bottom, symbolising the way to God being open and available – gone was the secret “only the high priest once a year can enter” – from that moment all the barriers were removed. Now all have access to God. God is not shut away remotely in a special place which only certain holy people can enter, he is among us all and welcomes all

 Next Sunday will be Easter Sunday when we celebrate that inspite of all the so-called evidence of Jesus’ life being over, the resurrection happened. Love wins and hope lives on.

Every year, we make this journey through the scriptures in some way or other. Although we know how the story ends and what the outcome will be, it’s still a time of mixed emotions, of contrasts, of highs and lows, joy and sadness, death and resurrection all in one week. That journey into Jerusalem would have been such a mixture, here are the crowds, hailing Jesus as king and welcoming him, yet he went forward knowing what lay ahead, already anointed for his buriel. He knew of the coming hardship, yet continued in that way. A day full of a mixture of joy and despair, hope and fear.  

And this is a reflection of our own experiences in life, For we although we all experience times of sadness and uncertainty as well as times of joy, our life together as a church is an expression of our Christian faith a faith which is solid and strong and has stood the test of time, over 2000 years of time. We know that our faith and hope are in relationship, a living relationship with a living Lord who is with us wherever we are. Jesus wept at the death of his friend Lazarus, even though he knew he was going to bring him back to life. I take great comfort in that fact. Each and every one of us here is precious to him. He is compassionate and understands our sadness, our pain. Most of us have only ever lived in times of peace, in a peaceful country, but throughout the world, many face untimely and unpleasant deaths for a variety of reasons. From the moment Jesus was born, he identified with humanity, from the circumstances of his birth, followed by his entry into the muddy waters of the Jordan for Baptism and then facing the grim realities as well as the joys for all of his earthly life right through to his death –he was prepared to suffer right up to his death, the death of a criminal, even though he done nothing wrong. He is a God who understands our suffering because he suffered himself.

Right from the beginning, even going back to the Hebrews in Egypt, God’s people have often faced uncertainty or been challenged or moved from places of safety and security, yet he goes with them and equips them for whatever lies ahead. This is as true for us today as it was for the early Christians and for those today who meet in secret for fear of persecution. We can only see where we are now, but he sees beyond the here and now, ahead into the future. Whatever the future may hold for us as individuals and as a church, we need to continue to trust in our risen Lord, bringing our needs and questions before him in prayer, asking for his peace in our hearts, knowing that he goes before us and will guide and help us as we look to the future.  

Let’s pray together.

Lord, as we look to the future, all its uncertainties, may we know your presence in our lives. Give us confidence to face the future, knowing that you go before us and are with us at all times. Help us to trust you and know your peace in our hearts.      Amen.

 

PuppyDog Tails.

Well, technically the dog in question at eight years old is not a puppy, but as this post concerns the tail part of the dog it seems an appropriate title. Note to any Canine friends reading this: If you must stop suddenly whilst leaving the house and cause your tail to be caught in the door thus skinting your owner in the process, please try to avoid doing so on the day before they go on holiday and try not to arrange it so you have to be at the vets at the same time you are due to be at the kennels for your own holiday.
It's the day before the Schnnar Family Holiday and we are all getting excited about going to Majorca. It's mid morning and things are going well. The packing is almost done, so I stop to do some clearing up. Just started washing up when I hear "Mum, I think Rio's bleeding." A look at the front lounge floor confirms that yes, one of our two dogs is definately bleeding. My daughter and I check over a dog each. Paws, mouths, no sign of any blood at all. Can't see where it is coming from. Then I notice Rio's long black tail. It looks like a paintbrush that's been dipped in the deepest ever red paint. Then I recall hearing a yelp as the dogs left for their walk earlier on. Thankfully he is now oblivious to his injury and is lying chilled out on the floor. My daughter strokes him and keeps him still while I fetch kitchen paper and a bowl of water & some TCP. I know that tail injuries can be serious and want to ensure it is free from infection as well as trying to stop the bleeding. We bathe it carefully in the TCP solution then wrap it in kitchen paper and raise it to stop the flow of the blood. We are also trying to keep Rio still to avoid him splattering more blood around the room as he's already got it on the sofa and floor. This is not too hard as he's a greyhound and is a real couch potato. But, if there's one thing that will get him on his feet with his tail like a crazy out of control fan, thus splattering blood everywhere it is the doorbell or the sound of a key in the lock. So we keep a lookout for Howard, who is due home any moment and plan to open the door quietly to avoid potential chaos. Despite our attempts Rio is up with his tail wagging frantically as soon as he realises his friend is home. By now the lounge and hall look like a crime scene with blood splattered over the walls, doors, windows, floors and pictures. Rio has no idea of the mess he has made and we eventually get him to lie still while Howard examines the tail and tries to re-wrap it in kitchen roll. We then fetch the first aid kit and manage at last to get a bandage round the tail. We've decided he needs to see the vet who agrees to see him an hour later. As it's Sunday and the next day is a Bank Holiday Monday it's an emergency vet, several miles away instead of the usual one round the corner. The bandage has amazingly stayed in place while all three of us start cleaning blood off everything. We disagree over what to clean it off with. My Mum's cure all for as far as cleaning issues were concerned, was (back in the 1970's)"Hot Soapy Water - that's they only way you'll get that off" The "Hot Soapy Water" of my childhood must have sank in (so to speak) on all sorts of levels because throughout the years whenever any mess or spillages have occurred I have always reached for a bowl of  Hot Soapy Water. So I reach once again for Hot Soapy Water. I am oblivious to any development in cleaning products which may have occurred over the last forty or so years and dismiss the need for the cleaning wipes and all sorts of chemicals which make my eyes itch and make me sneeze, which Howard thinks we should be using. The washing up liquid has it. Shame it won't work on other things: PPI harassment people? Dodgy polititians? People who try to sell you electricity in Sainsburys when it's so obvious you want to by food? Just slosh 'em over with Hot Soapy Water and you'll never see then again. Perhaps I could try a similar thing with my own child: "Learn Your Times Tables - that's what you need to do" and she would start to times numbers in the event of any mathematical dilema and save having to do all the dodgy counting on her fingers I often go through. Eventually, after using a variety of cleaning methods the room looks less crime scene and more like it's just time the carpets needed a really good clean. The Hot Soapy Water is now cold and grey with dog hairs floating on it and it's time for Rio's trip to the Vet's. The dog has stayed still and bandage is still in place until Rio hears his lead jangling. Then he's up like a shot and once more the room is back in crime scene mode as the bangdage falls of at the first wag. "Oh no, the mess..." says Howard, looking round in despair. "Just get the bleedin' dog to the vet's" I yell, as it is becoming a matter of time. We need to get him processed by the vet and on to the kennels before it shuts as we check in at the airport at 5.30 the next morning. Whilst getting Rio into the car, Fly, our other dog decides it's time to make a bid for freedom and has me chasing him up and down the road. Eventually I get him back in the house and renew the Hot Soapy Water and even use the cleaning wipes a little and get the place clean again. While this is happening Fly decides to eat a tub of margerine which was on the surface in the kitchen.
Thankfully all goes well at the vet's and Rio comes round in time to be taken to the kennels, with a very solid looking, should stay on as long as needed kind of bandage on. he's pleased to see us and unfazed by anything that's happened. The kennel staff are calm, sympathetic and unfazed by the additional instructions, bandage and antibiotics. I know he's in good hands but still feel guilty at leaving him there. After paying the bill for his tail to be sorted, then another op a few weeks later as it didn't heel very well, we conclude the dog wasn't the only one stitched up by the vet.
Rio has since made a great recovery and is quite happy with his somewhat shorter tail.

Reader Licensing Service

Yesterday myself and ten others were licensed as Readers in Chichester Cathedral. "What's a Reader?" you might be wondering. I was given a card from some friends and one of them jokingly wrote: "Does this mean you've learnt to read at last?" What it actually means is that I am a member of the Anglican church who is not ordained as a Bishop, Priest or Deacon, who has felt called by God and been recommended by the church for training to lead worship, preach and teach within my local Parish. I joined with others from across the chichester Diocese for three years training, some of it studying together and at home and some based in local chuch contexts. It has been a great time of learning and preparation for our future ministries.

Yesterday was a really exciting day for all of us. Being licesnsed in the Cathedral was special because it becomes another event alongside all the many other new beginnings and occasions which have happened there. It is a magnificant building and centuries worth of prayer and worship have taken place within it's walls. We had all been there before during our residential weekends and many of us feel a special connection with the Cathedral.

The night before licensing felt a little like the night before my wedding - you know that the next day is going to be a "landmark" day within your life, to be marked by both solemnity and celebration; a day which signifies a new start.

My train journey from Crawley to Chichester was a chance for final thoughts, prayers and reflection before the licensing. And also for moments of panic as I needed to make a phone call and had to top up my credit but couldn't get a signal whilst on the train!

On arrival at the Cathedral we were directed to the Vicar's Hall where we were served  welcome tea, coffee and biscuits before being asked to put our robes and blue Reader scarves on for photographs. It takes a while to get used to the robes and even the scarf feels heavy when you first put it on, but you soon start to "inhabit" them and after a while they start to feel comfortable and certainly in my case I did feel very much as if I belonged in them, or perhaps I should say they belong on me! The sun shone brightly down and we all struggled to not close our eyes for the photos.

Next we had a rehearsal in the Cathedral, where we found our seats and skimmed through the Order of Service. Then it was lunch time. Most of us were too excited and a little nervous to eat a lot, but the soup, rolls and chocolate brownies were delicious and would keep me going for the afternoon. We enjoyed catching up with each other and various others who were supporting us over the meal.

After lunch we put our robes back on and were led to the Bishops Chapel were we had to read out our Declarations of Assent, the Church's documents which  have to be read and signed before we are licensed. They are to ensure that we will use only certains forms of service and stick to correct practices and proceedures as laid down by the church. They refer to historic formularies and I believe as much as anything they will ensure we won't for example start preaching that the world is going to end by Christmas or other wacky or obscure messages! That done, there were a few moments for quiet prayer and reflection before going into the Cathedral and getting ready for the proccession in which the Bishop, The Wardens for Readers, and various other Priests, Deacons and Readers all take part. Again, there was a similar feeling as at a wedding - the organ began playing and we all began singing the first hymn as we processed through the Cathedral, which was packed with people there to support us - families, friends and people from all our churches. It was overwhelming to see so many people there celebrating with us and we soon spotted people we knew, smiling and waving until we eventually arrived at the front of the Cathedral and took our seats for the licensing. The service itself was a moving occasion, with appropriate hymns, prayers and readings. There were serious moments as we answered the questions put to us by the Bishop during our Admission and Licensing and moments of joy and praise as we sung hyms and joined in prayer with hundreds of others present. We also shared in Eucharist (Holy Communion), the sharing of bread and wine in rememberance of Christ's death and resurrection. I enjoy watching people go up to receive communion - people of all ages, from all walks of life. Members of my own family, a special friend carefully carrying her baby grandaughter and friends from church among them. Babies and children are blessed, wine drank and bread eaten. More hymns were sung during the Eucharist, including one about God's calling for people to go out and share his love and serve those in need. The refrain: Here I am Lord. Is it I Lord? I have heard you calling in the night. I will go Lord. If you lead me. I will hold your people in my heart.
After final prayers, blessing and dismissal we processed out of the cathedral, singing the final hymn as we left. Outside we continued to sing, then gathered with Bishop Mark for another photograph (Note to self: Smile with mouth shut for photos in future!) After more informal photos with friends and families some of us continued our celebrations over drinks across the road before heading home after a truly amazing day.

Closing Ceremony Online "Party".

Our family always enjoy sitting down together to watch events of major importance - Royal Occasions, Sporting Events, Concerts. When our daughter was younger, as much as anything it was a good excuse to ignore the housework piling up around me and enjoy an uninterrupted two hours respite in front of the telly. Now she's older and wants to stay up. "Why's it on so late?" I ask my facebook friends. And as my cousin in Canada points out, it's a world event and it's not late for him, it's the middle of the afternoon. And he's right. Britain may have hosted the Olympics for just over two weeks, but that does not make us the Centre of the Universe! So we settle down in front of the TV, drinks to hand. What I love about these events now is that as well as watching the event itself, myself, family and friends are all online together, discussing the acts and proceedures as they happen. It's a wonderful online party, which I'm sharing with my friends who don't know each other and may well never meet and frineds of friends, some of whom I almost feel I know. Most of the usual suspects and a few new ones are online waiting for the event to begin. Whatever criticisms people may have of social networking, used well it really brings people together. The ceremony begins. After weeks of debate about sponsors, security, how women are portrayed etc, etc,  Daughter is in critical mode and starts questioning the authenticity of the medals themselves - "They look like chocolate gold coins..." I point out that they would have melted by now. A friend says they would break their teeth on them if they tried to eat them. How did I manage to bring up such a cynical child?! Next Prince Harry is up for debate! Are we sure he's really a Prince, he dosn't even look like any of the others?! I'm beginning to think it's a miracle she believes in God, but I'm glad she does. As the athletes are shown proudly displaying their medals I pick up on the excitement and almost wish I was among them, which is hilarious, as I can't even run for the bus without getting out of breath. An obscure singer is onstage. "Who's that?" some of us are wondering in bewilderment. "Elbow" a friend of a friend informs us. After what appears to be a delivery of some fridges, the entertainment continues. We all amuse each other with various comments about who is singing and wonder why the lighbulb hats - anyone know?! I love the diversity in our different tasts of music, which is sometimes gererational - it occurs to me that our age group are reminiscent of my Mum slagging off T-Rex in the '70s, having grown up in the days before 'pop' as we know it. We start wondering if this is what we really, really want as the Spice Girls dance about on top of their taxis. I decide that as the mother of a ten year old that on the whole their lyrics would be far more appropriate for her age group than other some of the other "music" which is frequently pushed towards them by the media. So I sing along to "Wannabee" while she sleeps soundly on the sofa. I'm transported back to the mid 1990s and good memories of my home town, which continues when Oasis appear as well, how wonderful is that?! The sleepy ten year old's not gonna be impressed at missing Jessie J, but a friend is recording the whole thing so she can watch it soon. Howard's unimpressed by the clothes worn for the 'Mod set' - where's the long green jacket or suit? He starts browsing mod gear on ebay on his laptop and eventually is also fast asleep. Why am I the only one in this family with any staying power? Jessie's back again, with 70s disco and then alongside Queen, which some of my friends find unbelievable and not in a good way. But I can't help feeling that while others of her generation will have fizzled out within a few years, Jessie's gonna be up there with the greats in 30 year's time.  Getting close to the end. The handover is worrying, from a health & safety perpective, surely they shouldn't be waving the flags so close to the flames?! It all looks amazing though and I have enjoyed it all, even singing along to songs I wouldn't normally play at home. A good time had by all & great fun sharing it all with friends elsewhere. Online Paralympic Ceremony Party, anyone?

Ridin' into Town.

Having had three small successful rides around the local roads, I  decided it was time to venture further afield. My daughter and I decided we are ready for the next big challenge. The Ride into Town. So we aim to get up and out of the house early (well, just after 10am). We prepare a rucksack with essentials for our journey. Purse - check. Phone - check. Keys - check. Diabetes management kit & snacks, check. Headache tablets & plasters, check. Sunglasses & cycle helmets - check. The rucksack's all packed up, and with the build up I am putting into this occasion, you would think we were going off- roading in some particularly hazardous countryside. In reality we are going along a cycle path which we join at the end of our road and leave at the town centre. It's a fairly flat ride with one or two slopes and the subway. But it is our first time out without another adult and it feels like a big adventure. I decide to be brave about the subway slopes and stay on the bike going both down and up, using the pavement for the uneven bits, which they really should fix. We peddle like mad in the subways then make it quite easily up into the middle, down into the second subway and up the otherside. It's easy - in fact a lot more easy than getting off and pushing. I've decided if I don't want my daughter to be a wuss about these things I'm not going to be one either. The rest of the journey is straightforward. The cycle track runs in between the bus lane and the pavement. Whoever planned this has done a really great job as everyone can get safely into town in their own space. It's quite a busy road and there's no way I would attempt it without the cycle lanes. We cross at several lots of traffic lights, arrive safely in town, ride through the park and I grapple locking both bikes and helmets up at the cycle park. Sounds daft, but these things are all new to me. "You won't forget the code, will you Mum?" says my daughter anxiously. The code is easy to remember. I walk away from our bikes feeling like a bona fida cyclist rather than a bag of nerves on wheels as I would have done a few years ago. The ride back goes well too and we have saved £6.00 on bus fare between us. I don't think I'm ever gonna make the Olympics but I'm proud of  my acheivements.