tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-73842706592271570022024-02-21T06:24:07.193-08:00WritingAlex Dixonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09842058329002589722noreply@blogger.comBlogger51125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7384270659227157002.post-19429724465769515692014-07-16T04:06:00.001-07:002014-07-16T10:30:09.251-07:00Things to do before your next baby arrivesInspired by Gillian Crawshaw's blog: <a href="http://www.ababyonboard.com/activities-to-do-before-the-baby-arrives-the-toddler-edition/">http://www.ababyonboard.com/activities-to-do-before-the-baby-arrives-the-toddler-edition/</a><br />
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The age gap between my children is seven years, and with the imminent arrival of a baby last year, I wanted to spend some special time with my son before his new sibling came along. <br />
Here is what we got up to:<br />
<br />
1) Weekend away in a hotel.<br />
<br />
Babies aren't great in hotels. The rooms are too small to do much in, you just know they'll end up sharing your bed half the night and there's no chance of a lie-in in the morning. But 7 year olds find hotels exciting, like a mini adventure. Also they sleep through the night (well ours does) so you can still have a relaxing time. And if the hotel comes with a pool, then you're definitely on to a winner. <br />
<br />
So I booked a weekend in Cardiff for myself, my husband and my son for when I was 6 months pregnant. The idea was that I would not be too big to walk around or enjoy the mini-break. It worked really well - Connor loved the pool, the X-box (which we don't have at home) and even the fun of having breakfast in a 'posh' restaurant. <br />
<br />
I would love to do it again - when said baby is at least 3, that is. <br />
<br />
2) Child-friendly activity<br />
<br />
Not one that you can easily do with a baby in tow, like soft play or going to the park. There will be plenty of time for that when the baby arrives. <br />
<br />
We went to the Dr Who experience in Cardiff. It was great fun, and I was very aware that it would have been much harder work with a crying/ pooing/ tired baby along. At six months gone I wasn't too huge to traipse around, although I did need to sit down a few times. The site is just the right size to not be too tiring for pregnant people or young kids. <br />
<br />
It does help to choose something that everyone in the family would enjoy though - if I had suggested a weekend's shopping in London it would not have gone down so well with the boys. <br />
<br />
3) A child-centred day<br />
<br />
Aren't all days child-centred? Well, yes, but how often do you find yourself distracted by housework or emails or your mobile phone while you are spending quality time with your kids? Focussing on a child for the whole day, or even a few hours, is surprisingly tough. The idea is that you ask them what they want to do, and then do it. So it might be playing on the Wii or feeding the ducks or making a robot out of loo rolls - as long as it's something your child/ren really enjoy doing. The important thing is not to allow yourself to get distracted by stuff that you need/ want to do.<br />
<br />
When all of your lives are about to be changed forever by the arrival of a baby, this is an ideal time to let your child know by actions and not just words, that you love them and are there for them. Or at any other times of change or upheaval.<br />
<br />
It doesn't have to be expensive and s/he will relish the positive attention from you. For older children, try suggesting going for a coffee/ milkshake together or a trip to the cinema and lunch out- just you and him/ her.<br />
<br />
If you have several kids, obviously this would be harder. You might need to spread it over a few days. <br />
<br />
4- Craft<br />
<br />
I know some of you hate the messiness of craft. But often kids love it - again half of it is probably about the quality time that they get to spend with you. You can make something together to remind yourselves of when you were just a family of (insert number here.). Maybe make a handprint canvas or paint stones to represent each family member. Have a look at art and craft websites for more ideas. <br />
<br />
Something that I love is scrapbooking. When I get the stash out, my son inevitably asks if he can make a page too. It's not the tidiest page ever made, but he enjoys doing it and it's a great keepsake. Definitely not just for girls - make sure you get blue/ red/ yellow/ green papers and ribbons and stickers such as football or surfing or whatever they're into. There don't need to be any flowers. Of course not all girls like pink and flowers, just choose what your child likes.<br />
<br />
And let them choose a photograph for the page that means something to them - you can always print another one if it accidently gets chopped in half. <br />
<br />
5- Talk<br />
<br />
I was always talking to my son about what life would be like when the baby arrived, so it wasn't a shock to him when he saw how tired I was or if I needed to stay in hospital for a few days (which I did.) Otherwise he would probably have expected something from a nappy advert - a cooing baby who sleeps through the night and a perfectly made-up mum who is always smiling. <br />
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Also talk to your child about where the baby comes from (age appropriate). I found books from the library helpful - read them together and ask if s/he has any questions. Telling your child that a stork brings the baby is not that helpful. <br />
<br />
You could discuss how the baby is growing week-by-week and that you love them both the same, even if you do need to spend a lot of time looking after the new baby when it arrives. Expect some sibling jealousy, but this can be minimised by talking and listening to your child before and after the arrival.<br />
<br />
<br />
What else did you find helpful before your second/ third/ eleventh baby arrived?Alex Dixonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09842058329002589722noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7384270659227157002.post-4472839793132001082014-06-30T13:40:00.003-07:002014-06-30T13:40:50.091-07:00Grandma's WWII
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">My husband's Grandma (Kathleen Hooper nee Richards) was nine
years old when World War II broke out in 1939. She lived at 102 Cumberland
Road, <a href="https://www.google.com/maps/place/102+Cumberland+Rd/@51.5045196,-0.3301465,354m/data=!3m2!1e3!4b1!4m2!3m1!1s0x48760d7804d64a19:0xb486d9ecdfd3b692" target="_blank">Hanwell</a>, West London. She was friends with another Kath, who was 2 years
older than her. Their parents were friends, through the Salvation Army. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Kath was evacuated from London when she was 10. She went to
stay with one of her father's colleagues, Mr Whiteway, (who he met when serving
during WWI) who lived with his family in Lyndale, Lancashire. It was a small
village and there were only two classes for all of the village children at the
local school. Mrs Whiteway was the postmistress. She was middle class and her
family were seen as the 'leaders' of the village. She was a kind woman who
insisted that the two Kaths drank hot milk every night before bed. It was
boiled on the open fire in their kitchen. Kath was happy in Lyndale, but the
kids made fun of her London accent. Otherwise, they all got on well. She didn't
learn much at the village school - she was too busy having fun.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">The two evacuees went with the Whiteways to church on Sunday
mornings, and they went for walks in the evening. Sometimes Mrs Whiteway would
send the girls with a jug to buy milk from a nearby farm (fresh from the cow.)
One evening, they took their time going back home and it was getting dark. They
saw some sheep in one field, which was ok, but then they came upon another
field filled with large ugly creatures that made a horrible sound. The girls
sat down and cried. They were too afraid to keep walking through the field. Soon
the farmer found them, sitting there in the grass. He told them that it was
safe- the terrifying animals were only turkeys. The farmer put Kath on the
handlebars of his bike and leant the other Kath a bike to ride, and made sure
they got home ok. They were told off for getting back after dark.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Kath and Kath only stayed there for a few summer months.
They saw it as a bit of a holiday but they did miss their families. Soon they
went sent back home to London - just in time for the start of the Blitz. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Kath's father was too old to serve in the forces, so he
volunteered for home war work. His job was to boil up water at his home in a
huge urn, and then take it to the bomb sites to serve tea to those who had just
been bombed out. He also used his own car to drive injured people to the
closest hospital. It was a harrowing job, seeing the immediate after-effects of
the Blitz. No doubt he witnessed many terrible injuries and dead bodies. He
found it very stressful, and sometimes Kath would see him shaking in fear as he
headed out to help. She quite liked the idea of making tea for people, but was
told firmly that "it's no place for children."</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">People could choose to sleep in the underground overnight if
they wished, and many did. Bunk beds were set up and there was a communal
atmosphere. There would be sing-songs through the night, as the bombs landed
overhead. You would then head back home in the morning to get dressed and go to
work. Kath asked her parents if she could sleep in the tube one night, but was
told no. They had an air-raid shelter in their garden. If the siren was going
off, Kath would be put to bed by her mum in the shelter, and her mum would then
head back to the house to make dinner for her dad. They would then join the
children (Kath and her older brother Den) to sleep in the shelter overnight.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">When there was a lull in the bombing, Kath would visit her
friend Kath who lived in Bayswater. She would take the trolley bus to get
there. If there was another raid while she was out, she would just head to the
nearest shelter. Older Kath lived in a block of flats, and her father (Mr
Truman) was the head porter. Her friend had a bedroom in the old maid's room of
the building, which was right next to the porters' rooms. Mrs Truman would put
the girls to bed and then head back to her room. One of the porters would them
let them out and they would sneak out to Hyde Park. They would wander around a
bit, buy some chips, and then head back home to eat them. Mrs Truman never said
anything, but surely she smelt the distinct odour of chips in the room?</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Kath's school was open as education was supposed to continue
as normal. On one occasion, their home was fenced off from the school- there
were some unexploded bombs that they had to walk past. Kath had to go into
school, walking closely past the bombs, collect homework, and then head back
home to do it. Not surprisingly, not a lot of learning was actually done during
this time. Although Kath did pass her 11 plus and got into grammar school. While
she was there, the whole school was evacuated to Torquay. But Kath did not want
to go, and her mother did not want her to go either. So she stayed home in
London. </span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">When she was 16, Kath attended Pitman's College to study
book-keeping and commerce. The college did not have an air-raid shelter, so when
there was a raid, everyone took what books or tabulations that they could and
sat under one of the stone staircases. They were considered safe as did not
tend to fall down if a building was hit. </span></div>
<br />
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Kath's brother Den left home when he was 16 to train as an
architect. He went to Wessex and stayed with his Auntie Nancy and cousin Ron.
Den was called up when he was 18 to the Middle East. Kath is not sure how many
countries he served in, but she does remember getting postcards from Egypt. Den
helped to design the Bailey bridge - a temporary bridge that was used by the
army during the war.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
Click for more info on the <a href="http://www.thinkdefence.co.uk/2012/01/uk-military-bridging-equipment-the-bailey-bridge" target="_blank">Bailey bridge.</a></div>
Alex Dixonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09842058329002589722noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7384270659227157002.post-13269096184912307352014-06-12T08:47:00.002-07:002014-06-12T08:47:25.785-07:00Jewel and Arthur
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Gran (Jewel Booysen) and Gramps (Arthur Huebsch) met in
early 1949 in a boarding house called Faylands, in Pietermaritz Street, Pietermaritzburg,
South Africa, where they were both staying. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Gran and her younger sister, Jenny were living there
together. They had grown up in Cape Town, where their mother was still living
at the time. Gran worked in the Post Office, starting on the switchboard and
then moving to the telegraph office.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Gramps was there with his brother, Edgar. Their parents
had retired the year before and bought a small farm called Langverwacht, in
Hidcote, near Mooi River (a small rural town in the foothills of the
Drakensburg Mountains.) The boys needed to stay in town for their jobs. Gramps
worked in the local brewery, as a mechanic.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">There was a shared dining room at the boarding house, and
no doubt they caught each other's eye one night at dinner. One evening, Gran
was sitting in the lounge knitting, when Gramps walked up to her and pulled one
of the knitting needles out of her work, leaving all of the stitches dangling.
Later, they all decided (Gran, Gramps, their siblings and some friends) to go
for a walk. They ended up walking for a long time, and found themselves at The
Hatcheries on the north side of town. Somehow Gran and Gramps got separated
from the group and got back home much later, long after everyone else had gone
to bed. When Gran's mother found out, she was not impressed.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">After a whirlwind romance of only 3 months, they got
married on 1 August 1949 at St Mary's Catholic Church in Loop Street,
Pietermaritzburg. Gramps had been raised a Catholic, so that's why the ceremony
was held there. They had very little money, so Gran got married in a normal inexpensive
pale-blue dress. The whole ceremony lasted only 7 minutes. (That was just like
her, not to make a fuss.)<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Gran was 22 and Gramps 24 years old. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">They moved into a tiny one-roomed place after they were
married. Gran told me once that some people thought (incorrectly) that she was
pregnant, hence the 'rushed' wedding. The fact that their first baby was born
more than a year later proved the gossips wrong.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Gran told her new husband that all she really wanted was
6 children and a van to drive them around in. She did conceive 6 babies, but
sadly miscarried twin boys. Their 4 surviving children are: Uncle Philip (who
lives in Botswana); my Mom Heather (UK); Aunty Ruth (USA) and Aunty 'Joon'
(Kathleen) who still lives in South Africa. Gran also got the van she desired,
about 14 years later.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">They had 10 grandchildren, and now, although they never
met them, 9 great-grandchildren, and one more on the way. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">They were happily married (they really were happy and
obviously still very much in love) for 48 years, until Gramps died in 1997. <a href="https://www.blogger.com/null" name="_GoBack"></a><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></div>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8cBwtliZoGXXzFxVAKC_-tS9H7hI-UazMWeomqWUHnCGekSIWJc1CbU7pNFNSTgT8_zTWrhLrZ6SErqV9MRl9ebvz5LM1DxOapikLWDP0ryF3R98wEPEbvQMXgTJMVPAWGZL6BhnZ30II/s1600/Arthur+&+Jewel+Huebsch+wedding-+1+Aug+1949.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8cBwtliZoGXXzFxVAKC_-tS9H7hI-UazMWeomqWUHnCGekSIWJc1CbU7pNFNSTgT8_zTWrhLrZ6SErqV9MRl9ebvz5LM1DxOapikLWDP0ryF3R98wEPEbvQMXgTJMVPAWGZL6BhnZ30II/s1600/Arthur+&+Jewel+Huebsch+wedding-+1+Aug+1949.jpg" height="246" width="320" /></a></div>
Alex Dixonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09842058329002589722noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7384270659227157002.post-60029257632881914852014-06-06T13:52:00.000-07:002014-06-06T13:52:03.404-07:00My back garden
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">We moved into the house in Oribi Road when I was about 11.
There was a badly-dug small pool with far too much chlorine in it. After we
moved in, Dad soon turned it into a beautiful well-made larger version. I loved
that pool. Summer lasts about 10 months in Pietermaritzburg so we really
appreciated it. It got up to about 40 degrees Celsius at the height of Summer
(Jan and Feb). On those days we couldn't stay outside too long, even in the
pool. </span></div>
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<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">As far as I remember, there were two trees in the yard. One
was an orange, and one a mixture of lemon and orange - literally two types of
tree were grafted together. I guess you could call it a lorange or oramon. We
sometimes made fresh orange juice with the fruit but needed to add loads of sugar
to make it drinkable. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Around the back of the old servants' rooms (two small
bedrooms and a not-very-nice toilet block) was where Dad had his vegetable
patch. He grew all sorts there, and very successfully too. Home-grown food
tastes so much better but I am useless at growing things- they all die in the
end. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Sometimes when Dad was gardening, he would come across small
snakes. He would chop their heads off with a spade (there are many poisonous
kinds in South Africa). I liked to play with the smooth dead bodies. They were
pretty cool. When my brother and I played hobos in the garden, I would light a
fire and burn the bodies. Or anything else that was to hand. Sometimes marshmallows.
</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">When we first moved in, the servants' block was filled with
junk and random furniture, and we used it as a den. My cousins would come round
and we'd play armies in there. Being the oldest of the group, I was leader or
co-leader most of the time. </span></div>
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<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Sometimes I would have to mow the lawn. Not I job I enjoyed
then or now.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">When we got lovebirds, they lived in a large aviary along the
far wall (furthest from the house.) They needed to be far away because they
were so loud. We also kept guinea pigs in the yard, much closer to the house. I
loved my guineas. The cats would sit on top of their run and keep a close
watch. But if we took the pigs out and showed them to the cats, the felines
would scarper. Most amusing. </span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">We had three cats and a small naughty dog called Thomas. He
belonged to my brother but adored Mom. </span></div>
<br />
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">There was a gate outside the old servant's quarters toilet
block. You could climb to the top of it and then carefully position yourself on
top of the outside wall (about 7 foot high). From there you had a great view
over the neighbourhood. All houses are single-storey, so you don't usually overlook
your neighbours. One neighbours on one side had lots of lush vegetation, so you
couldn't see much anyway. But you could see surprisingly far. The neighbours on
the other side had a huge pool and two large unhappy dogs who I never saw being
walked or petted. I felt sorry for them - they were obviously seen only as guard
dogs and not pets. They barked a lot.</span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">I spent a lot of happy times in that garden. In the evening
it was lovely to just go and sit in it and look at the stars. You could hear
the crickets at night - I missed them when we moved to the UK.</span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">When it rained, it did a proper job. You would get drenched
in seconds. It didn't rain often, so I enjoyed standing outside and feeling the
warm drops pummelling my skin. </span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">The thunderstorms were amazing. We would count between the
lightning and thunder to work out if it was moving towards us. We felt so small
and vulnerable against the might of creation. It was liberating. The thunder
shook the windows and sometimes lead to a power cut. All the torches and
candles would come out. So much fun. </span></div>
Alex Dixonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09842058329002589722noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7384270659227157002.post-64026798552139527062014-06-03T05:51:00.003-07:002014-06-03T05:51:55.537-07:00Exercise: Write about a memorable meal from your childhood
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">1) One Christmas Day we went to Durban beach as a family.
It was mid-Summer, so very hot and the beach was be packed. I can't actually
remember what we ate. It would have been a picnic probably. Some people had
braiis on the beach but I don't think we did. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">The day was hot and sunny as usual and we spent time
playing on the sand and swimming in the sea. The waves along that stretch of
coast were huge - imagine Cornish waves but much bigger. It is a real hot-spot
for surfers, unsurprisingly. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">I was out swimming and none of my family were nearby. I
must've been about 13. Suddenly a wave grabbed hold of me and didn't let go. It
rolled me over and over until I could feel my lungs running out of air. I
wasn't scared though. I thought that if it was my time, then that was that. It
was a pretty cool way to go anyway. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Eventually the sea did spit me back onto land. I sat for
a minute on the shore, getting my breath back. Then I wandered back to where my
Mom was sitting under a parasol and asked for a drink. I never told my parents
about what happened- I was worried that they'd ban me from swimming in the sea.
After my drink I went back in. I love the beach.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">2) It was my Gran's birthday I think. We had a swimming pool
in our back garden (that my Dad had done most of the work to make and kept
spotless - I remember he always seemed to be measuring PH levels.) All 10 of
the cousins (and their parents) on my Mom's side of the family were there. We
ranged in age from 2 - 15 years old. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">I loved my cousins - we always had so much fun together.
It was a hot sunny day as always and we were running in and out of the pool.
There was a lot of making whirlpools and playing Marco Polo. It was noisy and
chaotic, but in a good way. All the dads had a swim too. I don't remember the
moms swimming very often - they always seemed to be busy preparing food or
chatting. I did think that when I grew up I would make sure I had as much fun
as the men and kids always seemed to have. And I'd go swimming in public, not
fret over if I was too curvy. I have kept that promise to myself, I'm pleased
to say. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Again, I'm not sure what we ate for lunch. Was it a
braai? I know we did have several. Dad had built a brick braii pit for us. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Hmm, the brief for this exercise was to write about a
memorable meal but the trouble is that I just don't find food that interesting
or memorable. It's always the people (and water, apparently) that make an
occasion special. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
Alex Dixonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09842058329002589722noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7384270659227157002.post-86289765558205416752014-05-23T06:55:00.002-07:002014-05-23T06:55:10.902-07:00I wanted to write a poem
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">I wanted to write a poem</span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">but I didn't know what to say.</span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">So I've sat here for an hour</span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">just staring at the rain.</span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">I like the use of metaphor</span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">but can't always think of one.</span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">The puddles are small seas</span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">that brave ants swim across.</span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Similes are similar</span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">but with as or like.</span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Slugs and snails love to splash</span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">like overweight Dad-dancers.</span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Personification is where things become human</span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">but it's difficult to pull off. </span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">The cats beg to come inside-</span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">lazy old blokes that hate getting soaked.</span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">I tried to write a poem</span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">but couldn't think of what to say.</span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">So instead I'm going to sit here</span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">just staring at the rain all day. </span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">By the way, </span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">modern poems don't need to rhyme</span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">or even have a regular metre (time.)</span></div>
Alex Dixonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09842058329002589722noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7384270659227157002.post-9799356076561890072014-05-22T11:13:00.000-07:002014-05-23T06:09:40.613-07:00Mind the gap<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">This is going to be a bit of a ramble with no point - you
have been warned. </span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">I read in <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">The Times</i>
today that the average gap between siblings in the UK is now 3 years and 8
months. It used to be 2 years. The reasons for this are chiefly financial it
seems (having two pre-school age children in nursery is very expensive).
Three-plus years sounds sensible to me. The gap between my children is much
larger - 7 years. This suits our family well - I love how our son (8) can look
after our daughter (11 months) without having to be supervised, because he's old
enough to trust. I don't mean that we leave them at home for the night and go
out or anything like that, don't worry. No need to call the social. </span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Also there is absolutely no sibling rivalry- they are at
such different stages of development. </span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">I suppose that there are people reading this who think that
the 1 or 2 year age gap between their offspring is ideal, and I am slightly
mad. Fair enough: every family is different. There are advantages to having a
small gap: getting over the baby stage more quickly; and ease of entertainment
because they probably like similar things, so they could share toys for example.
</span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">I was never going to have a small age gap: even before I had
my son I knew that having a toddler and baby in the house would send me to the
asylum. I mean how do you cope with the total and complete lack of sleep for so
long? Anyway, it turned out that baby #1 was a lot harder work than I imagined
(he's lovely now, of course). Parenthood is such a steep learning curve, and I
had little confidence in my abilities. I believe that this, in part, lead to my
PND. Also he never slept. But don't get me started on that. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">I think that whatever age gap you have, you are probably
happy with that. It tends to work out. </span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Of course you may have one child and so this isn't an issue.
The average family in Britain now has less than 2 children (1.8 I think - are
there lots of kids walking around with an arm missing or something?) So
actually onelies are in the majority. There are still many people who are quick
to judge or look down their nose at parents of only children, which annoys me.
For some families, one child is just right. Especially if there are financial
concerns (why bring a child into the world if you don't know how you'll feed
and clothe it for the next 18 years or so?) or actually the parents are happy
with their child and see no need for any more. </span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">There will always be the people who assume that only
children are spoilt. My son was an only for a few years, and he was much better
behaved and less spoilt than many children with one or more siblings. That's not
just me saying that, other people have told me. A child's behaviour is not down
to his siblings, it's down to his parents. </span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">There are also parents who have secondary infertility. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It must suck being told how selfish you're
being by only having one child when you've been trying for years. The same goes
for people who don't have any children. </span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">People are so quick to judge aren't they?</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Edit: I meant to talk about larger families too. I respect parents who manage to raise several kids to be fully-functioning human beings, while still leading normal not-too-chaotic lives. Especially if they do that without relying completely on the state for funds. And some mothers of 4-plus even work! How do they fit it all in? I am in awe. If I had four young children, I think that most of my day would be spent lying on the sofa trying to have a nap while pre-schoolers run around pulling cats' tails and eating newspaper. I couldn't bare the thought of going through the labour and newborn stage over and over - but if you've done it - good for you. And think of all the grandchildren that you have to look forward to one day. Awesome. I guess that in many countries, four or more children is the norm, and that's cool, except for the poverty side of it of course. Also many mums don't have access to contraception so really don't have the choice. But I like large families - especially if they all get on and can fit in one house for Christmas dinner. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">The only other people that I respect more are those who have chosen to adopt. Seriously, wow. You people rock. </span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">On a side note, I see that there are now more 'happy
surprises' in women over the age of 35 than under 20. Apparently we've all been
told for so long that our fertility drops off quickly after 35 that many women
assume that they've reached the menopause in their mid-thirties. Whoops. Many
women will fall pregnant within one year of coming off contraception, between
the ages of 35-40. Also it seems you're more likely to have twins as you get
older. All good fun. </span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">There, I told you that there was no point to this.</span></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<br /></div>
Alex Dixonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09842058329002589722noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7384270659227157002.post-4007896305040340762014-05-07T06:58:00.000-07:002014-05-07T06:58:09.451-07:00Lunch by the sea
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"> A challenge to write a story which includes the words: a
teacher - grizzled - crime of passion - restaurant - magic beans<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></b></div>
<br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">He sat at his favourite table by the window. He could see
the waves lapping the shore and people and dogs strolling past. It was a sunny
spring day. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">"Are you ready to order?" Asked a young
waitress wearing a black apron. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">"Yes please." <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Ben glanced at the menu.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">"Could I have a jacket potato with beans and cheese.
And a large cappuccino."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">"Sure." <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Ben resumed staring out of the window. He loved this part
of the world - he'd always come here on Summer holidays with his parents when
he was a child. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">He looked up when he heard a baby grumbling at the next
table. Her mother was trying to feed her a rusk but she was having none of it.
She moaned and grizzled some more, pushing the biscuit away with a scowl. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">"I give up." Said the mum, to no-one in
particular.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Then she caught Ben's eye. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">"Do you have any?" She asked. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">"Me... on no. Well, that is, I have a class-full of
them, but none of my own." <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">"Oh, you're a teacher." She smiled. "That
must be hard work. What year do you teach?"<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">"Year 8. They are great kids but sometimes I just
want to..."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">"I know exactly what you mean," she replied,
taking a knife out of the grumpy baby's hand. "So, how come you're not in
class now?"<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">"Oh, well... I'm actually off sick at the moment.
With stress. I came here for a break; I'm not local."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">"Oh, sorry. I didn't mean to pry." She replied.
<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">"No problem. I'm here for two weeks and I've been to
this restaurant a few times now. I love the view." He said.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">"Yes, it's good isn't it?" She was now trying
to feed the baby a bottle, to no avail. She gave up and enjoyed her panini
instead.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">"Here you are sir." The waitress placed his
lunch and coffee on the table. "Enjoy."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">"Thank you." Ben tucked into the meal. It was
delicious. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">An old couple entered the restaurant and sat at a table
next to his. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">"Enjoying your lunch?" Asked the man.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">"Yes thanks." Ben replied.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">"Good. Those are magic beans, you know." <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">"Sorry?" Asked Ben.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">"Magic beans. This is the place that Doris and I
came to on our first date. We both had jackets with beans too. And they
obviously worked because she fell madly in love with me and here we are today
celebrating our 10th anniversary." <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">"Oh wow. congratulations!" Grinned Ben. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Doris said "Maybe you'll fall in love too. Are you
single?"<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">"Oh, yes. Yes I am - currently. I was recently
divorced."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">"Oh I'm sorry to hear that dear. I lost my first
husband to cancer. But good things can happen when you least expect." She
gazed into her husband's eyes. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Ben noticed that they were still holding hands. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">The waitress asked for their order and they also went for
jackets with cheese and beans.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">"And two glasses of your finest red wine please
Miss." Asked the gentleman.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Ben finished his meal and took out his book. One good
thing about being signed off was that he didn't have to think about work. He
could sit and read his novel all day. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">He ordered another cappuccino. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">The elderly couple started their meal and clinked wine
glasses. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">"Cheers!"<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">"Oh dear!"<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Doris' wine glass broke and red liquid ran dramatically
down her arm and onto her blouse.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">"Are you ok?" Asked Ben, jumping up and mopping
up some of the wine with a napkin.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">"I am fine thank you dear," she replied. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Her shirt was ruined. It looked like she'd been stabbed.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">"I suppose you could call it a crime of
passion." Laughed her husband.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">The waitress ran over with wipes and offered the couple a
free meal, which they accepted. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Drama over, Ben returned to his book. He sipped his coffee and glanced at the view
again. The sun was dancing over the waves and the seagulls shrieked at each
other. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Today was a good day. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
Alex Dixonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09842058329002589722noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7384270659227157002.post-1701808291574520602014-05-07T06:49:00.001-07:002014-05-07T08:15:34.691-07:00Where did you meet?<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">I'm not
usually this mawkish, so please forgive me. I blame my lack of sleep. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">In the film <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">We bought a zoo </i>(based on the autobiographical
book by Benjamin Mee) the father tells his kids about how he and their mum
first met. It was in a cafe, incidentally. The scene is especially emotional
because their mother died only a few months before. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">This made me
think about how my husband and I met. In case you're interested, it was in a
grubby low-ceilinged pub at our local football ground. It was where our church
used to meet before we could afford our own building. He was the first person
at the church to talk to me so I thought I'd marry him. That's a joke. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">Where did you
meet your other half? <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">I had never
thought of showing our children where we met, but as the father played by Matt
Damon says in the movie, it's a part of their story. My son and husband actually
regularly visit (although not that room) because they have season tickets to
football. But I haven't seen inside that room since our church moved buildings.
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Maybe we'll all go and visit one day. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">If you have
children, have you spoken to them about where you and your spouse met? It might
be geeky but it's part of their story before their story, so that's pretty
cool. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
</div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">http://www.telegraph.co.uk/culture/film/9108388/We-Bought-a-Zoo-the-true-story-behind-the-film.html<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8ze3MMW_w9qY-E_-mrUo_f_U-_bdamn7ReS2CbRZ2zsG94QpLoiUgaANA1CwEityn_CLySgoq4WuUpFTu0GuN7EIyVL2avmO1RdgsNm8g1rW5EobB2i-YahvHYomFQsHw6jFwQDjauSoR/s1600/We+bought+a+zoo.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8ze3MMW_w9qY-E_-mrUo_f_U-_bdamn7ReS2CbRZ2zsG94QpLoiUgaANA1CwEityn_CLySgoq4WuUpFTu0GuN7EIyVL2avmO1RdgsNm8g1rW5EobB2i-YahvHYomFQsHw6jFwQDjauSoR/s1600/We+bought+a+zoo.jpg" height="320" width="215" /></a></div>
Alex Dixonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09842058329002589722noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7384270659227157002.post-61524942890702932712014-04-03T02:55:00.000-07:002014-04-03T04:12:05.998-07:00Let kids be kids<a href="http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/education-26853447">http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/education-26853447</a><br />
<br />
So Ofsted has said that the Early Years education system is failing children, and all nurseries should have sit-down formal teacher-lead lessons from the age of 3. Also they would like all children to attend school from 8am-6pm every week day. <br />
<br />
Apparently 'the rot sets in early' and two thirds of the poorest children start school unprepared - for example they can't hold pens, hold conversations or even use the toilet. <br />
<br />
Are kids not allowed to be kids anymore? What about the benefits of play? What about occasionally spending time with their parents? Or should family time be relegated to weekends? Actually, having care of a child for two whole days in a row is a bit much to ask of modern parents - let's send them to school on Saturdays as well. Then those teachers can teach them more manners and discipline and solve all their social problems as well as getting them ready for university aged 5. <br />
<br />
Any why is being poor causing problems for children's education anyway? All it takes to be prepared for school is a parent or grandparent who sometimes speaks to their child; sometimes reads them bedtime stories; sometimes plays imagination games with them and takes them for a walk to the park. Feeding them and potty training them and giving them some boundaries helps too. None of these activities costs anything, besides the food. Is this too much to ask of parents? <br />
<br />
Also who will pay for all this extra teacher training for nursery school teachers and all the extra hours for all teachers? <br />
<br />
Why is it suddenly the fault of the nurseries and schools? I think it's time that parents realised that they are the ones responsible for their kids, not the state or the poor overloaded teachers. <br />
<br />
When you have children, surely you realise that you will have extra time and financial commitments? If you can't cope with looking after a young child (you're just too busy to talk to them or play with them) or you really do need to work all the hours under the sun just to put some basic food on your table, maybe you shouldn't have kids. Actually, the benefits system helps with this anyway, so there's no reason your child or you should go hungry. <br />
<br />
It may be your 'right' to have a child, but it comes with a heck of a lot of long-term responsibility. <br />
<br />
Stop blaming the schools and nurseries. Keeping young children cooped up in a formal school environment for every minute of the day is not going to make well rounded, happy children. Children learn by playing - it's been proven many times. They also become happier and more intelligent by being loved and being paid attention - this is something that families should do from their first day- not leave it to the education system to sort out a few years later. <br />
<br />
Let's treat kids like kids again, instead of Human Resources. Alex Dixonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09842058329002589722noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7384270659227157002.post-17210050751952976052014-03-22T14:32:00.003-07:002014-03-22T14:54:32.561-07:00The princess and the pixies<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Once upon a time there was a princess called Jewel. She had
sparkling blue eyes and long brown hair that reached all the way to her ankles.
Jewel could not sleep at night unless there were seven mattresses filled with
down on her bed. Down is tiny feathers. One morning, Jewel woke up from a
particularly bad night's sleep.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She
climbed out of bed using her golden ladder (the mattresses were very thick) and
walked into the dining room which was set for breakfast. Her parents and sister
were already there, eating chocolate croissants with fried egg, and drinking
decaff espressos.</span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">"Good morning," said her Mum the Queen "How
did you sleep?"</span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">"Terribly," replied Jewel as she sat down at the
table, "I couldn't get comfortable all night."</span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">"Oh no! Why not?" Asked her mum.</span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Mergatroyd the maid served Jewel her breakfast.</span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">"I don't know. It felt like I was sleeping on glass.
Then when I turned over it was like I was lying on rusty nails." Grumbled
the princess.</span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">"On my great-Aunt Petunia!" Exclaimed the Queen. </span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">"Yes." Agreed Jewel.</span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Jewel tried to eat her breakfast, but just couldn't enjoy it
what with the tiredness. </span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">"Have you tried checking to see if there really was
glass or rusty nails underneath your mattresses?" Asked her sister,
Princess Grace.</span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">"No, I didn't think of that," replied Jewel,
"I will have a look after breakfast."</span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">"Maybe it was the pixies." Announced the King. </span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">"What?" Asked Jewel.</span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">"The pixies. They live in the woods and like to cause
havoc<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>when the mood strikes them."
Answered her dad. </span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">He poured himself another espresso and stirred in some
honey. </span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">"Are you joking?" Wondered Jewel.</span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">"Pixies don't exist." Said the Queen.</span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">"Please pass the ketchup." Asked Grace.</span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">The King passed his daughter the ketchup- she couldn't eat
croissants without them.</span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">"I don't make jokes." Said the King. "I ran
into some when I was a child. They are very small and exceptionally
mischievous." </span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">"What does mischievous mean?" Asked Princess
Grace.</span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">"Maliciously or playfully annoying. Harmful or
injurious." Replied her dad. </span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">He enjoyed reading the dictionary. </span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">"I must go to a very important meeting with the Pope,
some MPs and Will-i-am." Announced the King as he folded his newspaper and
kissed his family goodbye. </span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">"Well, who'd have thought?" Mused the Queen.
"Pixies are real?"</span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">"Why would they be so horrible to me though?"
Asked Jewel sadly. </span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">"They just don't like children," said Grace,
"don't you know anything?"</span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">"How do you know so much about pixies?" Asked her
mother. </span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">"I read the Faerie Times." Replied the princess. </span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">The family finished their breakfast and Jewel returned to
her bedroom, with Grace following to help. If this was the pixies' fault, she
would teach them a lesson they'd never forget. </span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">The princesses checked underneath the bottom mattress - wow,
it was heavy. Nothing there. Underneath the second mattress, there was nothing.
</span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">"Maybe you just had a bad dream." Said Grace as
they took a breather.</span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">"No, I know that I felt something!" Insisted her
older sister. </span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">They checked underneath the third mattress. Jewel stretched
her hand as far as it would go. Aha! She felt something. </span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">"I can feel something here, Grace, Try to keep the
mattress up on your side." </span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">She pulled it slowly towards her - being cautious as she
didn't want to accidently cut her hand on the glass or whatever the offending
object was. </span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">"What is it?" Asked Grace as the item appeared. </span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Jewel held it carefully in her hand. </span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">"It looks like a flower. A tiny flower." Jewel
marvelled. </span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">The flower was blood red and about the size of her
fingernail. </span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">"That is what made you sleep badly all night?"
Wondered Grace. "I'm surprised that you even felt it!"</span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">"It is pretty small isn't it?" Agreed her sister. </span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">"I think we should show Mummy." Suggested Grace. </span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">"Ok." </span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Suddenly<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>the flower melted.
Just as though it was made of ice. All that was left was a tiny crimson drop in
the princess' hand. </span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">"Oh no. It must've been magic." Whispered Jewel.</span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">"It must have been the pixies! What are we going to do
now?" Asked Grace.</span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">"We'll have to speak to them." Said Jewel. "I
need to find out why they did this."</span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Grace nodded sagely. She agreed that it was the only way to
resolve the issue.</span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">"How are you going to find them though?" She
asked.</span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">"I will have to stay awake tonight and catch them when
they come back." Replied Jewel. </span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">"What if they don't return? And what if you fall
asleep?" Asked the younger princess.</span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">"They are sure to come back. For some reason they have
decided to play a nasty trick on me, and they won't be happy that I've stopped
their fun." </span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">"Ok... but how will you stay awake until
midnight?"</span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Midnight is the time when pixies are known to perform their
mischief, as any reader of the Faerie Times will tell you.</span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">"Coffee. Lots of coffee." Replied Jewel.</span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">And so Princess Jewel spend the rest of the day drinking
espressos. She was determined to have a word with those naughty pixies that
very night. At bedtime, Jewel kissed her parents and sister goodnight and went
to bed. But she didn't fall asleep. On no. She has drunk enough coffee to keep
a large elephant awake during Question Time. There was no way that she was
going to get any sleep that night. </span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">As midnight approached, Jewel put down her Rubrics' Cube,
switched off her torch and pretended to be asleep. Soon she heard a <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>little shuffling and the tippa-tappa of tiny
feet - if she didn't know any better, she'd think it was a mouse doing a tap-dance.
</span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">She kept her eyes firmly shut and her ears firmly open. She
could just make out the pixies whispering to each other. There was definitely a
male and a female voice.</span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">"What's the Human done with our flower then?"
Asked the female voice.</span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">"I guess she found it. It would've melted on her warm skin,
of course." Answered the male. </span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">"Typical Human- causing problems. Just as well we have
lots of spares." </span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">"Yes. Small Humans in the olden days used to behave
themselves. They would never be bold enough to mess with the proud Pixie
people." </span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">"I blame the parents. Now, which mattress should this
one go under?" Asked the female.</span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">"Bottom one this time. She'll still sleep badly. Tee
hee." Giggled the male. </span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Jewel felt her bed move ever-so-slightly as the pixie placed
one of their magical flowers under the bottom mattress. She thought that they
must be extremely strong. Now was her chance. She switched on her torch and climbed
quickly down her ladder. </span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">"Oi! I've caught you!" She shouted to the startled
magical creatures. </span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">They both froze in fear. They were smaller than Jewel had
imagined, only about the size of a guinea-pig. They wore funny hats
and shiny boots. They both had pointy ears and noses. </span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">"Why are you playing this trick on me?" The
princess demanded. "What have I ever done to deserve this?"</span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">"Well, um, that is. Do you know who we are?" Asked
the male pixie. </span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">"Yes of course! You're pixies. I'm not stupid."</span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">"Ah, well then you know that that's just what we do. Be
naughty, I mean. It's kind of our job." </span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">"You mean to say that your job is to pick on innocent
children?" Asked Jewel.</span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">"Yes," replied the female pixie. "We have
done it for hundreds of years. It's our proud tradition."</span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">"Oh." Responded the princess. She wasn't sure what
else to say. </span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">"What's your job?" Enquired the male pixie. </span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">"My job? I don't have a job!" Replied Jewel
incredulously. "I just have to play, and eat, and be a kid. Oh, and go to
school."</span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">"Lucky you. If we aren't mischievous, we are cast out
of pixie society. We would be shamed for life." Said the female. </span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">"Oh, I see. So you have to pick on children?" </span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">"Yes, that's what I'm saying." </span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">"But why me?" Jewel wondered.</span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">"Why not you?" </span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">The princess didn't have an answer to that. She thought for
a few moments. Then she had an idea.</span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">"Why don't you just pretend to play tricks on children?"
She suggested.</span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">"Pretend?" </span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">"Yes, you know: make-believe. Sneak out every night and
pretend to pick on kids, but don't. Maybe put your naughty flowers in a goose's
nest instead." Replied the princess.</span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">"A goose's nest?" Laughed the pixies.</span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">"Yes. I've never liked geese. They are loud and they
hiss and they are a bit scary." </span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">"Oh, ok. Well, I don't see why not." Replied the
male pixie.</span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">"We could certainly give it a try." Agreed the
female.</span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">And so that night, Princess Jewel did a favour for children
around the world - she saved their sleep. From that night on, those two pixies
picked on geese instead of kids. And so if you had a good night's sleep last
night, say a quick thank you to Jewel. </span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">And if you are a sleep-deprived goose, well, sorry. Maybe if
you weren't so annoying then the princess would have suggested that the pixies
pick on magpies instead. Or maybe pigeons. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"></span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpvU0yP1NUSdI1h0yVCXmMoRbbvu9l2dHbIngOdAkMkiOWlDcgHuIveqaZjEoTmvMXFcjfXvuYQUtAyhVCBSDWMNw-gKHAoKEEsJQLrwA0GavNzxYRsxL8VatoU8DeAY8Fgc83oUWI90Bk/s1600/Pixies.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpvU0yP1NUSdI1h0yVCXmMoRbbvu9l2dHbIngOdAkMkiOWlDcgHuIveqaZjEoTmvMXFcjfXvuYQUtAyhVCBSDWMNw-gKHAoKEEsJQLrwA0GavNzxYRsxL8VatoU8DeAY8Fgc83oUWI90Bk/s1600/Pixies.jpg" height="288" width="400" /></a></div>
</div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<o:p><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></o:p></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">The End</span></div>
Alex Dixonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09842058329002589722noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7384270659227157002.post-35094442177553845802014-03-20T11:11:00.002-07:002014-03-20T14:35:29.815-07:00Naughty cat<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0cm 0cm 6pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt;">I made a hot cup of
tea.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0cm 0cm 6pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt;">Naughty cat jumped up<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0cm 0cm 6pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt;">and had a drink.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0cm 0cm 6pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt;">Slurp slurp slurp.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0cm 0cm 6pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt;">"Bleurgh!"
Spat Naughty cat. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0cm 0cm 6pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt;">"This tea is too
hot for me."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0cm 0cm 6pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0cm 0cm 6pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt;">So I made a luke-warm
cup of tea.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0cm 0cm 6pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt;">Naughty cat jumped up
<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0cm 0cm 6pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt;">and had a drink.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0cm 0cm 6pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt;">Slurp slurp slurp.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0cm 0cm 6pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt;">"Yuck!"
Moaned Naughty cat. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0cm 0cm 6pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt;">"This tea is too
cold for me."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0cm 0cm 6pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0cm 0cm 6pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt;">So I made a milky cup
of tea.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0cm 0cm 6pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt;">Naughty cat jumped up<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0cm 0cm 6pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt;">and had a drink.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0cm 0cm 6pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt;">Slurp slurp slurp.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0cm 0cm 6pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt;">"Delicious!"
Meowed Naughty cat. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0cm 0cm 6pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt;">"This tea is
perfect for me."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0cm 0cm 6pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0cm 0cm 6pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt;">So he drank all of my
tea.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0cm 0cm 6pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0cm 0cm 6pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt;">I made a cup of tea<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0cm 0cm 6pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt;">and added a bit of
milk and one sugar.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0cm 0cm 6pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt;">I had a drink. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0cm 0cm 6pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt;">Sip sip sip.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0cm 0cm 6pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt;">"Ahh." I
sighed. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0cm 0cm 6pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt;">"This tea is
just right for me." </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt;"></span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYrwa0XTblV9To9w9tRrwAdWBsnjcQmpx_HUF-ETuqEF36mJjVbC7ffOe2Lh2K5DUEt6DWsHPQbKuZx5sDORNd1WDV0xTeAqhNyaXPP58Gcmr6i7ZdIMG_Nf-Zh7tWWPrzdfDw5j1BHcuw/s1600/Naughty+cat.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYrwa0XTblV9To9w9tRrwAdWBsnjcQmpx_HUF-ETuqEF36mJjVbC7ffOe2Lh2K5DUEt6DWsHPQbKuZx5sDORNd1WDV0xTeAqhNyaXPP58Gcmr6i7ZdIMG_Nf-Zh7tWWPrzdfDw5j1BHcuw/s1600/Naughty+cat.jpg" height="328" width="400" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt;"><o:p></o:p></span> </div>
Alex Dixonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09842058329002589722noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7384270659227157002.post-22733952807534197082014-03-19T07:30:00.000-07:002014-03-19T07:30:50.452-07:00Yellow duck
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">I ran a
hot bath.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">The
yellow duck<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">Jumped
in.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">Splish
splash splosh.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">'Ow!
That's too hot!' he shouted<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">And
jumped out.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;"><o:p> </o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">I let the
water out.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">I ran a
cool bath.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">The
yellow duck<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">Jumped
in.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">Splish
splash splosh.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">'Yikes!'
He yelled. 'That's freezing!'<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">And
jumped out.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;"><o:p> </o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">I let the
water out.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">I ran a
luke-warm bath.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">The
yellow duck<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">Jumped
in.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">Splish
splash splosh.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">'Ah!' He
quacked.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">'That's
just right.'<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;"><o:p> </o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">He swam
around:<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">Once<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">Twice<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">Three
times.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">'I'm
dizzy.'<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">He moaned<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">And
jumped out.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;"><o:p> </o:p></span></div>
<br />
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">I gave yellow
duck<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">A cosy
towel.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">He
snuggled in<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">With
glee.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">'Thank
you.' <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">He
quacked to me.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;"><o:p> </o:p></span></div>
<br />
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">I ran a
bubbly bath<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">And got
in.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">Bubbles
bubbles bubbles. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">Ah. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">Just
right.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;"><o:p> </o:p></span></div>
<br />
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">The
yellow duck<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">Jumped
in.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">'Get
out!'<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">I
demanded.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">'This is
my bath.'<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">He jumped
out.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjx8OLmojeNSiyHe-G_oNt_XBbEdh5phkYotJWhMaudW0zb86LzaTyYJQGWZOfqMXa3wTS8VU36YBUKTGw07dajOOLMj65HL450R2OJx7rPVuObQQ0Mpcl_0LvvSvrp4M02nyagQLrBmkrZ/s1600/Yellow+duck.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjx8OLmojeNSiyHe-G_oNt_XBbEdh5phkYotJWhMaudW0zb86LzaTyYJQGWZOfqMXa3wTS8VU36YBUKTGw07dajOOLMj65HL450R2OJx7rPVuObQQ0Mpcl_0LvvSvrp4M02nyagQLrBmkrZ/s1600/Yellow+duck.jpg" height="327" width="400" /></a></div>
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Alex Dixonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09842058329002589722noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7384270659227157002.post-24232009568881050262014-03-09T14:23:00.002-07:002014-03-09T14:23:28.589-07:00Mascot day at Swindon Town FC
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgD8ua9OZwBf0WtokEMuZCpNDyJckESYNAHg2rok2kfMYxuZfyfSF5sPfBEBSlygkqJYLaKJAB5JNaIvLYzDdNEA97v2NfYls_PunOXmK39BOKGw-_zxQvv8q8qY3NUnaO9tPz6TObWQFdf/s1600/On+the+pitch+before+game.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgD8ua9OZwBf0WtokEMuZCpNDyJckESYNAHg2rok2kfMYxuZfyfSF5sPfBEBSlygkqJYLaKJAB5JNaIvLYzDdNEA97v2NfYls_PunOXmK39BOKGw-_zxQvv8q8qY3NUnaO9tPz6TObWQFdf/s1600/On+the+pitch+before+game.jpg" height="174" width="320" /></a><span style="font-family: Calibri;"></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;"></span> </div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;"></span> </div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;"></span> </div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;"></span> </div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;"></span> </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">My son Connor was recently a mascot at STFC as a birthday
present. George and Brenda Chadwick have been hosting mascots at the County
Ground for 35 years. They are a lovely couple and made us all feel welcome. We
started the day by having a tour around the stadium. I didn't find this part
particularly exciting, but did like the trophy cabinet. There was a cool
replica statue of Romulus and Remus (from the Roman foundation myth) nursing
from a she-wolf (Lupa), which I especially liked. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Connor enjoyed getting autographs from the players on a
football. All of the players were friendly and the kids (mascots and friends)
obviously enjoyed meeting them. I couldn't help thinking how young the players
all are. One of them (Pritchard) is about the height of my 8-year-old. We saw
the opposition (MK Dons) changing room and the Swindon changing room. There was
also a small room which held the disjointed corpse of Rockin' Robin. Thankfully
it turned out not to be his corpse - it is apparently a costume, so there was
no need to call the RSPCA. None of the kids seemed to be traumatised. </span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiybGm-kfxBxF_TaG2MSzPjzS_tki6RPycvIyNF32yRR0lvCK-N8GLbw1TaCqC60zqnersMdmPlJPuM84y7ePwdKrgYFwgKm__-f06GPWbzCXd0BbsDDcqAv9SUwllXLN1KhdNX6Q6Rkfxi/s1600/Rockin+Robin.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiybGm-kfxBxF_TaG2MSzPjzS_tki6RPycvIyNF32yRR0lvCK-N8GLbw1TaCqC60zqnersMdmPlJPuM84y7ePwdKrgYFwgKm__-f06GPWbzCXd0BbsDDcqAv9SUwllXLN1KhdNX6Q6Rkfxi/s1600/Rockin+Robin.jpg" height="299" width="320" /></a><span style="font-family: Calibri;">We also met the manager, Mark Cooper, who was good at
talking to the kids. He presented them all with a certificate. My husband Mike
said that he had been a mascot back in the 1980s, and, as if on cue, the
goalkeeper on that day, Fraser Digby, appeared. There was a nice feeling of
family tradition. We then had a three course lunch. The boys were allowed to
eat the same posh food as the adults. They all spurned that and went for chicken and chips. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Soon the mascots went off to change and go to play
kick-about on the pitch before the game. Rockin' Robin joined them in his usual
refined way. I was allowed to go onto the pitch and take photos. Later the boys
ran on with the team. This was definitely a highlight for Connor - he came on
with Nathan Thompson. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">We then went into the posh seats to enjoy the game. Surprisingly,
I actually enjoyed the game. Unfortunately we was robbed but it was a game of
two halves, as they say. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">After the game, man of the match Troy Archibald-Henville
joined us in the Sponsors Suite and posed for photos with the mascots. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">I had a good day and am not even a football fan. Highly
recommended. </span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSOSOMLE-9U5ZAmPbMRfBGr8vTa8_C3Adae5dKGZc0QuT0-HHn5ujX6wA677P33tZ0eaggLC8tKGZqk69gWW3N_EsqV1A8iRYRLm70hbgeXQ3-jRYaDA71lNxNbKLQHb1CGWGeRPFA3F9K/s1600/Walking+onto+the+pitch.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSOSOMLE-9U5ZAmPbMRfBGr8vTa8_C3Adae5dKGZc0QuT0-HHn5ujX6wA677P33tZ0eaggLC8tKGZqk69gWW3N_EsqV1A8iRYRLm70hbgeXQ3-jRYaDA71lNxNbKLQHb1CGWGeRPFA3F9K/s1600/Walking+onto+the+pitch.jpg" height="239" width="320" /></a></div>
Alex Dixonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09842058329002589722noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7384270659227157002.post-13312717094294405712014-02-22T13:31:00.002-08:002014-02-22T13:31:32.650-08:00The hotel
<br />
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">We were staying in a huge hotel. It seemed to go on
forever, and I was always getting lost trying to find my way back to my room.
I'm sure the stairs moved when I wasn't looking! The walls were oak-panelled
and there were innumerable flights of stairs. It was quite dark as well, with
only candle-light to guide you around the maze of corridors. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">We were staying there for free. My friend Cassie had won
the holiday in a competition. We'd never have been able to afford the hotel
ourselves - it was exceptionally posh. Every night there was a delicious
3-course meal and then a live band. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">One night I got lost again trying to find my room. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">"Are you ok?" Asked a member of staff who
spotted me looking confused in a gloomy passageway. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">"Yes, well, I'm lost again. I keep forgetting how to
find my room."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">"It is a gigantic building, isn't it?" She
asked. "But I can help you. You see that door over there?"<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">"That one?" I said, pointing to a lacquered
crimson door. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">"Yes. That's the dark room. Go in there and you will
find a way back."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">"Ok... thanks." I said, but she'd already gone.
<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">I opened the door slowly and peeked inside. She was right
- it was dark. I went in, closed the door behind me, and found myself looking
at a huge mirror that filled one wall. I say it was a mirror, but it didn't
actually reflect anything. Instead in contained a scene of people dancing. It
looked like a fancy-dress party - everyone was dressed in old-fashioned clothes
and having a great time. It reminded me of The Great Gatsby for some reason. I
wondered if it was really happening, or just an image. I kept staring at it,
and after a while a couple of people spotted me and smiled. I couldn't hear anything
but they seemed friendly enough. I touched the mirror and it was smooth glass.
I waved goodbye after a while and they waved back and joined the dancing again.
<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Intrigued, I left the room. It seemed as though the
corridors and stairs had changed while I was in there, and I instantly knew
where I was and the way back to my room. I was sharing with my friend Kitty- we
each had a luxurious king-size bed and shared a large en-suite bathroom that
boasted a roll-top bath. We really were pampered. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">All of us were together at dinner that night - Cassie,
Kitty, Liz and myself - and we chatted about what each of us had got up to that
day. Cassie and Liz had gone skiing, Kitty had spent the day at the spa, and I
had mostly wandered around and sat in front of a fire in one of the lounges and
read my book. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">"Isn't this food delicious?" Marvelled Liz. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">She was eating lobster. I wouldn't touch seafood, so had
the roast lamb instead. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">"Yes," I replied, "I don't think I've ever
had such tasty food before." <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">"They have a Michelin-starred French chef."
Announced Cassie, drinking a sip of red wine. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">"Wow," replied Liz, "no wonder it's so
good!"<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">"We'll find our normal food so boring when we get
back home." Sighed Kitty.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">"I wonder what the theme is for tomorrow's
ball?" Wondered Cassie. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Every Saturday there was a themed ball. We only got told
the theme on the evening before, which didn't give us much time to prepare, but
there was a stock of good-quality costumes that the hotel lent out to clients,
so we didn't need to buy anything. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">After desert (I had chocolate mousse and Bailey's
coffee), the Entertainment manager took to the stage. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">"Ladies and gentlemen," he announced, "I
can confirm that the theme of tomorrow night's ball is...The roaring twenties!
As usual, costumes can be borrowed from the hotel, but damages must be paid
for. Accessories can be purchased in the central shop."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">As soon as he made the announcement, the room filled with
voices. Everyone started planning what they would wear , and the ladies, what
make-up they'd wear. You could feel the excitement. The Saturday ball was the
highlight of the week - everyone made an effort. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">"I know what I'm going to wear- if I can find
it!" Said Cassie. "A silver and black dress, silver heels, and a
short black wig."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">"That sounds good," replied Liz. "I think
I'll go for a red dress." <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">The rest of the evening was spent discussing the <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>ball. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">I know that I'd had far too much wine , but I struggled
to find my way back to my room that night. I must've been wandering around the
corridors for nearly half an hour when I remembered the dark room. Of course!
That would set me straight. Strangely enough, I found it around the next
corner. There was the large crimson door, standing out amongst all the typical
brown ones in the passage. I opened the heavy door and stepped into the room.
There was the mirror- still full of life-size people. But as I looked closer, I
noticed that they weren't dancing any more. People were looking shocked and
milling around. Something had obviously happened. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">I gently touched the shoulder of a woman who was standing
nearest to me. I say I touched her shoulder, but of course all I felt was the
smooth glass beneath my hand. She noticed anyway, and turned around to look at
me. She was crying and her mascara had run. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">I asked "What happened?" but she couldn't hear
me. She shook her head and turned away. I tried to work out what had happened,
and then I saw a couple of policemen arrive. They walked up to someone and were
obviously asking them questions. I decided to go to bed - I couldn't stay awake
any longer. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">I found my room and collapsed into bed fully-clothed. Kitty
was already in bed asleep.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">I woke up late the following morning, and went for a swim
before breakfast. I went to the lobby after that to look for a costume for the
ball. I hoped that all the good outfits hadn't already been taken. I wanted to
find a bright turquoise or green flapper-style dress with matching shoes and
headband. After that I'd research 1920s make-up so that I really looked the
part. After a prolonged search through dresses that weren't quite right (or
looked perfect but were the wrong size), I found a stunning outfit in emerald
green. It had tassels along the skirt and was quite short, but it fitted
perfectly. I was chuffed. I also managed to find some shoes of a similar
colour- not an exact match but no-one would notice in the gloom of the
dancehall. I picked up a matching headband and beaded necklace from the hotel
shop. I returned to my room with my treasures to find not only Kitty but also
Cassie and Liz trying on their new outfits and listening to music. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">"We wondered where you'd got to!" Exclaimed
Cassie. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">"I was just picking up my outfit." I explained.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">"You always leave everything to the last
minute," laughed Liz, "I was third in the queue this morning. Do you
like my dress?"<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Liz had found a beautiful ruby dress and some
ridiculously high heels. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">"Gorgeous." I smiled. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Kitty was doing Cassie's make-up and I asked if she could
do mine too. I could never get the eyeliner right.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">We spent the rest of the afternoon getting ready. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">I didn't eat much at dinner - I felt excited and a bit
nervous. I'm not sure why- it was only a dance- but everyone was a little
agitated - hoping that they looked the part and looking forward to the band and
dancing. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">"Here come the band." Said Liz.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">They were all well groomed in smart suits, except the female
lead singer who wore a low-cut red dress. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">"On no," whispered Liz, "the singer's
dress looks just like mine. Except she looks stunning and I look average."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">"Rubbish," replied Cassie, "you look just
as good as her. And your hair's better anyway."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Cassie was right- Liz did have beautiful wavy hair. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">"Anybody want to dance?" Asked Cassie.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">"Yes!" We all replied and jumped up. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">It must've been around 2am that the music stopped. It was
sudden - right in the middle of a love song. Kitty and I were being silly and
dancing a slow dance together - and not very well either. Cassie was at the bar
being chatted up be some bloke, and I'm not sure where Liz was. I noticed that
it went quiet and then a second later there was a scream. Everyone went silent
for a moment and then there was lots of shouting and people running around -
chaos. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Kitty and I quickly left the ballroom, still not sure
what was going on. We asked around but no-one seemed to know. I was just going
to find a member of staff, when someone shouted <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">"She'd dead!"<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">"Who's dead?" Another voice asked.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">"The singer - murdered!"<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">It felt like time froze. I looked around the room and
there was Kitty, staring me in horror. It was quiet and still. Nobody moved. I
tried to say something and couldn't. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">I happened to glance in a nearby wall-length mirror. I
saw not a reflection of the room, but a woman's face, staring at me. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">I wiped my eyes - I hadn't realised that I was crying. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
Alex Dixonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09842058329002589722noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7384270659227157002.post-75308884572551883792014-02-21T11:51:00.001-08:002014-02-21T11:56:23.488-08:00The Lego Movie - not just for kids<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">I went to see <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">The
Lego Movie</i> with my 7 year old son. I didn't have high expectations, but thought
it would be an enjoyable if not cerebrally-engaging experience. I was wrong. It
is a highly enjoyable, but surprisingly intelligent, film. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Living in a 1984-esque world, Emmet Brickowoski is a normal
construction worker who follows all the rules. And the city he lives in is full
of rules - what to say; what to eat and drink; what music to like; what to
wear. Everything is built by following the instructions- and anything that
doesn't follow the rules is destroyed. President Business oversees this dystopian
place. The president is terrified of anything or anyone that's different or
original or creative. So terrified that he has a nasty plan up his sleeve...<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">One day Emmet stumbles upon something that will save the
world as well as change it forever, and he is thrown into an underground full
of rule-breakers, creative thinkers and those who just don't fit in - the
master builders. But he's not popular, at least at first. The problem is that
he has never had one original idea. That soon changes though, and he turns out
to be a real hero. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">I love the references to <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Star Wars</i>, <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Lord of the Rings</i>
and <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">The Matrix</i>- amongst many others. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">On a more basic level, the movie tells kids that it's ok
to not always follow the instructions when building with Lego. All kits seems
to be so prescriptive these days - you make the car or spaceship or whatever,
but then what? Break it apart and do the same again? When I was young we just
had a load of bricks, no instructions, and made what we liked. One of the
heroes in the film is a 1980's astronaut, which I liked, as most of the parents
taking their kids to see this movie will have played with similar.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Of course, this is a film for kids, so there is lots of
silly humour (including a few references to butts) and explosions and action.
My son loved it, but in a very different way from how I did. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">And as a marketing tool - genius. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">http://www.rottentomatoes.com/m/the_lego_movie/<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj61xKd4siZqUA79Omd3n4dsm6Ek8ha3wA7hDmLmCHBTK-JLdcERRZqyUoZjc-7vAGuKqzhoD5ngo-eIpYH28tM3ZhFtRRqldV8G9Omyxt4Mura3slLs9Kc5p0RsmZZgZyZcAselx6VrY5o/s1600/Lego+Movie.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj61xKd4siZqUA79Omd3n4dsm6Ek8ha3wA7hDmLmCHBTK-JLdcERRZqyUoZjc-7vAGuKqzhoD5ngo-eIpYH28tM3ZhFtRRqldV8G9Omyxt4Mura3slLs9Kc5p0RsmZZgZyZcAselx6VrY5o/s1600/Lego+Movie.jpg" height="167" width="400" /></a></div>
Alex Dixonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09842058329002589722noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7384270659227157002.post-5535759309615045792014-02-12T14:09:00.002-08:002014-02-12T14:09:38.716-08:00No so Wonder Woman
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhW15dGWCJ2A4sMs5piT6W4xNqduvlV9GiKqw-kD6HYaw2zPvlObyuYtqbhINK8XtNgghqAiTfKMoIZI7LfNSz_Jt4jrAGHRG6dUAEI0cZnj0wHXv9r7foUmxD6XG0umUlAkf4kQdFIIaN8/s1600/Fab+lady.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhW15dGWCJ2A4sMs5piT6W4xNqduvlV9GiKqw-kD6HYaw2zPvlObyuYtqbhINK8XtNgghqAiTfKMoIZI7LfNSz_Jt4jrAGHRG6dUAEI0cZnj0wHXv9r7foUmxD6XG0umUlAkf4kQdFIIaN8/s1600/Fab+lady.png" height="223" width="400" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">I saw a bit of Wonder Woman recently, and, at the risk of
upsetting a whole generation of men, I wasn't that impressed. She seems nice
enough as a character, and I like her Amazonian roots and her cool jumps and
the way that she can look good even after a plane crash, but still. </span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">The first thing that I noticed was that she is skinny, has
perfect hair and make-up and shows a lot of flesh. Not entirely her fault- she
is just (as a character) living up to what most men's idea of a perfect woman
is. It's sad though. Why does a female superhero need to look like that? She'd
look just as good in slouchy jeans and no make-up. Cooler, even, because it
would mean that she didn't care about looking 'perfect' or 'feminine' (whatever
that means.) A superhero has already proved her awesome-ness by saving lives, being
strong, changing very quickly etc. So surely she has so much self-confidence
that there's no need to be beautiful at all times too?</span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">I suppose that it's not only female superheroes that need to
look good though. Superman and Batman and so on are also good-looking muscle-y
men, at least on film. </span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">So I thought about what a female super hero would be like if
I invented her. She'd have to have a cool name - Fab Lady will do until I can
think of something better. She'd be of average height, average build and with slightly
wayward hair. She'd occasionally wear make-up, if she felt like it; and would
be a fan of denim and trainers. She'd have super powers, of course. Like
flying, turning invisible and the ability to sew her own curtains. She'd only
see herself in a mirror though, not her mother. She would have some close
friends, but not too many, and have a presence on social media without being
too unguarded, boastful or judgemental. Fab Lady would be able to
simultaneously cook dinner, write a web page and change a tyre. Ok, so maybe
she'd need three hands for that. She could grow an extra one when needed.</span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Fab Lady would feel equally at ease discussing current
affairs at a cocktail party as watching football down the pub with some mates. She
would start as a single lady, and then after some chapters, a love interest in
the form of a shy bloke in accounts would be introduced. There would be a time
when Fab Lady had to decide whether she was ready to settle down, but
eventually she would realise that she was in love. Bloke from accounts would be
a bit useless at the romantic side of things, but would turn out to be perfect
husband material. </span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">After a few years and lots of superhero action, including
saving the world from nuclear war, and meeting Dr Who and travelling with him
for an adventure or two, Fab Lady and Husband would decide to have a baby. </span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Fab Lady would fall pregnant that very same day and after a
trouble-free pregnancy lasting a month (super heroes don't get backache, swollen
ankles or sickness), a healthy baby would be born. Super-babies are born
talking, walking and potty-trained, so no domestic drudgery for our hero. Soon
super-baby would join his mother on exploits to save the world, although he wouldn't
be as awesome as his mother due to being half-human. </span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Would Fab Lady get old? I'm not sure. Old age isn't
fabulous, but it would be much sadder to see her family and friends aging and
dying while she stayed the same. That's a difficult one. I guess she would have
to get old, but in a stylish way. She'd still be fighting evil masterminds when
she was 80 years old, and with attitude.</span></div>
Alex Dixonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09842058329002589722noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7384270659227157002.post-2630335556920475302014-02-12T03:49:00.001-08:002014-02-12T05:43:11.736-08:00Book giving day<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiC1ZVoO1VrjFGXOP2fXTG0V5FAU_DFgCfoo_fGHVrx5_j1HMyU0EeKZmVgjkNChBAHfIa14L-exDKSszktR5YWLRg-NFicqCnD4atBfOsLf1sK-o2RTay6Wq9-XucvkLz9HZ3jjaRC3KYs/s1600/Give+a+book.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiC1ZVoO1VrjFGXOP2fXTG0V5FAU_DFgCfoo_fGHVrx5_j1HMyU0EeKZmVgjkNChBAHfIa14L-exDKSszktR5YWLRg-NFicqCnD4atBfOsLf1sK-o2RTay6Wq9-XucvkLz9HZ3jjaRC3KYs/s1600/Give+a+book.png" height="223" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
If you want to give a gift that will really be appreciated this Valentine's Day, why not take part in International Book Giving Day?<br />
<br />
The idea is to share your love of reading with a child by giving them a book. There are different ways of doing this:<br />
<br />
1) Give a book. <br />
<br />
This can be to child that you know or that you see on Friday. The book can be second-hand (good condition) so you don't have to spend lots of money. Maybe give a book to a child at your local school, library or in a café?<br />
<br />
2) Leave a book. <br />
<br />
If you are going to be at your dentist's, doctor's or on the bus, you could leave a book behind (with a bookplate to explain why you've done it) for a child to find. <br />
<br />
<a href="http://bookgivingday.com/bookplates/">http://bookgivingday.com/bookplates/</a><br />
<br />
3) Donate a book.<br />
<br />
You can donate new or old books to your hospital, library or second-hand shop for them to give out to a local child. Or if you don't have time, why not donate to an African child through Books for Africa?<br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.booksforafrica.org/books-computers/donate-books.html">http://www.booksforafrica.org/books-computers/donate-books.html</a><br />
<br />
This Friday I will be giving out 'Washing Line' by Jez Alborough, and 'Click Clack Crocodile's back' by Kathryn White. They are both picture books suitable for 2-5 year olds. <br />
<br />
I hope you will join me. :-) <br />
<br />
Find out more at <a href="http://bookgivingday.com/">http://bookgivingday.com/</a>Alex Dixonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09842058329002589722noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7384270659227157002.post-72533697621434326352014-02-01T13:40:00.000-08:002014-02-01T13:42:19.830-08:00My first boyfriend<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">My first
boyfriend was called Jake, and he had blonde hair and gorgeous blue eyes. He
was so handsome. We were 9. He was a bit boring though. My next boyfriend was
Ben. He was funny but he didn’t buy me some sweets from the tuck shop one day
even though I asked him nicely, so I dumped him. A lady needs to feel
special, right? Next I went out with Ben’s best friend, I forget his name.
After that there was Christiaan – he was the most popular boy in school. I was
so chuffed when he asked me out. He dumped me when he saw me flirting with one
of the other boys, though. I didn’t see what the problem was with a little
harmless banter, but he obviously took himself very seriously. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">When I
started high school, I had eyes for only one boy – Shaun. It was love at first
sight. He didn’t notice me for ages though, which was annoying. I wondered if I
was too fat, so I went on a diet and lost a few kilos, but that didn't make any
difference. My Mom said you can never be too thin, but she's stick-thin and has always been miserable so maybe she got it wrong. As I was saying, Shaun had fallen for a girl called Phoebe. I don’t know what was so
interesting about her. I mean, she seemed to spend more time reading and doing
homework than anything else. And she wasn’t nearly as pretty as me, although
she did have a certain awkward charm I suppose. Still, I worked on Shaun and
eventually he fell for my charms. One day he kissed me after school, out of the
blue. No warning or anything. I guess he just couldn’t help himself. I tend to
have that effect on men, even now. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">Shaun was
my first love. I’d liked the other boys, but this was different. He treated me
with respect – something that most guys weren’t capable of. He actually wanted
to talk, and valued what I had to say. Most of my boyfriends have been less
interested in my brain, if you see what I mean. I thought he was a real keeper.
I used to picture us getting married. I’d have a huge white dress and he’d
arrive on a horse. There’s be loads of pink roses everywhere, and we’d go on
honeymoon somewhere exotic. It stayed a fantasy, of course. Shaun dumped me
after only a few months. I was having a fling with another boy – it didn’t mean
anything – but he was hurt badly. I guess I shouldn't have been messing around,
but I was only a kid. He could've given me a second chance.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;"> <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">I heard
that Phoebe is now a university lecturer. She always was a nerd. Never been
married: that doesn’t surprise me. She and Shuan are still friends. That’s a bit
odd. I bet his wife is jealous, I know I would be! <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">I haven't
seen Shaun since we were kids. There was a school reunion a while back, but I
couldn't be bothered to see most of those people again. Some of them were
horrible to me- especially the girls. I would've liked to see Shaun, but I live
far away from my old home town now and it just seemed too much effort. I
started writing him a Facebook private message the other week, but whatever I
said seemed pathetic, so I deleted it. I would like to catch up, but I wouldn't
want him to take it the wrong way. He seems to be happily married now, more's
the pity.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">I first
got married when I was 22. It was a whirlwind romance and soon burned itself
out. He was called Rick, and we met at Uni. We parted amicably after a couple
of years. Neither of us had any money, so there wasn't anything to fight over. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">My second
husband, Aaron, was lovely. He was a little older than me and well off. He
worked in mergers and acquisitions or something like that. Really clever. I was
so fond of him. Yes, he was a little dull, so I had to have a<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>romance on the side but he shouldn't have
taken it so personally! I'd never seen him so passionate as when he was
chucking my designer clothes and shoes out of our bedroom window. It's almost
funny, thinking back on it.... Anyway, after we got divorced I had to get a
job. I hadn't needed to work while I was married to him. Oh well, you live and
learn. I wish I hadn't cheated on Aaron though, he was a good bloke. I didn't
deserve him. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">My sister
says I have loyalty issues, but she doesn't know what she's talking about.
Besides, I've got the same bunch of girlfriends that I've had since uni, so it
can't be that. She's always been a little envious of me. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">My third
husband, Lester, was a bit of a loser. We just weren't right for each other. We
couldn't stop fighting at the end - the divorce has only just come through in
the last few days. I don't really know why I bothered to marry him in the first
place. I guess I was lonely. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">I'm 42
now and I've decided that it's time I grow up. I've promised myself that I
won't get married again. Not unless I'm really sure and I know that I won't be
tempted to stray. Maybe I shouldn't even date for a while, not until I've had
time to cool down after Lester, at least. We'll see. There is this hot new guy
in the office though... </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">I wish I was a 12 year old again. Love was so much
simpler, back then.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
Alex Dixonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09842058329002589722noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7384270659227157002.post-5301158034779918162014-02-01T12:33:00.003-08:002014-02-01T13:07:02.713-08:00The first girl I loved<span style="font-family: Calibri;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"></span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzP7QMAcGBFyquXmhpHob10XDABWq-bHLBb-dsAuU40CzcamBL2zb1sD-TFh1-AzU_1U2Dz3RKjRbppiDU6o_oLif_1F_-sWWq6oC97K3RIq5mbtWphZLozoTvbnlGTxjMY7M4wOS1Zvd6/s1600/love+heart.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzP7QMAcGBFyquXmhpHob10XDABWq-bHLBb-dsAuU40CzcamBL2zb1sD-TFh1-AzU_1U2Dz3RKjRbppiDU6o_oLif_1F_-sWWq6oC97K3RIq5mbtWphZLozoTvbnlGTxjMY7M4wOS1Zvd6/s1600/love+heart.png" height="178" width="320" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">I'd had a couple of girlfriends in primary school. I'd play
kiss-chase and write them a Valentine's day card, that sort of stuff. But it
was in my first year at high school that I fell in love for the first time. I
remember talking to my Mom about it (she is a cool Mom and never made fun of
me.) Our conversation went a bit like this:</span><br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">"Mom, can I talk to you about something?"</span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">"Sure honey, what is it?" She replied. </span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">"There's a girl at school, and well..."</span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">"Yes?"</span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">"She's pretty and clever and I like her smile,
and..." I said.</span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">"And?" </span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">"I like her, I mean really like her." </span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">"Oh honey, that's lovely. Do you think she likes you
too?" Asked Mom seriously. </span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">"I don't how, I mean, how do you tell?" I
wondered.</span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">"That's a great question. The only way you can tell is
to ask her."</span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">"Like, ask her to be my girlfriend?"</span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">"Ya. Or tell her that you like her and ask how she
feels."</span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">"Oh man, what if she doesn't like me? What if she
laughs at me?" I worried. </span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">"That's a risk that you're going to have to take. Otherwise
you'll never know and always wonder."</span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">"But it's embarrassing!" </span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">"It can be." She smiled gently and patted my hand.</span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">So, on my mother's wise advice, I took the plunge. I invited
Phoebe to my birthday party. She seemed happy to be invited, which gave me a
bit more hope. But did she say yes just because she felt sorry for me? Argh-
this love thing was tough. </span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">I was so nervous before I asked her out. Dry mouth, racing
pulse, squirming tummy- all the clichés. I nearly bottled it. When she said yes
I couldn't believe it! I'd convinced myself she'd laugh in my face and run to
tell her friend. </span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">We got on so well together. We spent hours chatting, and she
even took an interest in my cricket stories (I was on the school team.) I
remember the first time we held hands - oh man. Mom liked her too. They got on
surprisingly well. We went out for two years, and she was the first girl I
kissed. There's something about first love isn't there? It's so uncomplicated. </span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">But another girl, Melissa, had been flirting with me for a
long time. I had ignored her at first. But so much attention is flattering, and
she was very pretty. One day after school, she walked up to me and kissed me-
just like that! I was annoyed at first, but then she kissed me again. It was
nice. I forgot all about my girlfriend for a minute. I felt bad afterwards, but
it was too late. Melissa told everyone at school the next day that we had
kissed and she was now my girlfriend. I'd wanted to tell Phoebe myself about
the kiss, and that I wasn't going out with Melissa, but Melissa got there first
with her own version. So I spent that day avoiding Phoebe- I was such a wimp.</span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">I did apologise to Phoebe later, but the damage had been
done. I hadn't planned to go out with Melissa, but she latched on to me and it
was easier to go along with it. She told me we were going to the cinema
together that weekend and that I was paying, and I did as I was told. I know,
but I was a teenage boy after all. We only went out for a few months before I
found out that she was cheating on me with James, in the year above ours. One
of my friends saw them kissing by the bike sheds. Classy. I shouldn’t have been
surprised.</span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<o:p><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></o:p></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">I haven’t seen Melissa since high school, but I saw on Facebook
that she’s got divorced again. </span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Phoebe and I get on well now. She’s good friends with my
Mom, which isn’t as weird as it sounds, and she’s like a surrogate auntie to my
two boys. Mom and she have taken them to a couple of plays. Thomas and Harry
are always so well behaved for them. They are 10 and 13, and have a lot of
energy. I’m sure I was never that crazy! </span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Phoebe’s done really well for herself. She’s married to her
job – a lecturer at the university- and has had some academic books published.
Mom jokes that she’s the one that got away. I do like her – as a friend, I
mean. I’m happily married to Helen – 18 years now. Man, I’m getting old. When
you’re 12, it feels like every Saturday lasts a week, and you think you'll
never grow up. </span></div>
Alex Dixonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09842058329002589722noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7384270659227157002.post-54291748377420184742014-01-31T08:20:00.000-08:002014-01-31T08:20:10.420-08:00My first love
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">We were 12 and in our first year of high school. I wouldn't
say that it was love at first sight- it took me a good few months to fall for
him. We were in most of the same classes and Shaun was a bit of a class clown.
He had curly hair and glasses and was one of the popular kids. I wasn't. He
started teasing me, and my friend Ruby said that he must fancy me, but I told
her she was mad. Boys like him didn't fancy girls like me. Not that I was ugly
or a social outcast or anything - I was just a bit quieter and a bit less
obsessed with my looks than most of the girls in my class. Melissa, one of the
popular girls, took a shine to Shaun and starting flirting with him whenever
she got the chance. I remember being a bit gutted, 'cos it meant that I didn't
have a look-in. She died her hair blonde one day- that was strictly against the
rules- and our teacher Mrs DePlessis gave her double detention. Melissa didn't
care. She only cared that it got the boys' attention. </span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">When Shaun invited me to his birthday party I was genuinely
surprised. I almost said no as watching Melissa flirting with him would have
been too much, but I agreed to go along if Ruby could come too, which he said she
could. It was a pool party at his house and Melissa wore a tiny pink bikini. I
just wore my black school swimming costume like I always did. It hadn't crossed
my mind to get a new outfit for the occasion. </span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">It was a hot sunny day, and all the boys were showing off,
dive-bombing into the pool and splashing the girls who screamed obligingly.
Ruby and I sat in the shade and drank lemonade. I did swim for a bit, but it
was chaotic. I didn't want to be jumped on. I guess we were all still kids
then, but we really did feel like grown-ups. We took ourselves so seriously.
Shane's mum, who said "Call me Jenny," walked around, getting drinks
for everyone and making sure no-one got hurt. I thought she was brave to have
so many of us round her house. We left the place a mess. </span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">After a while, I headed inside to offer to help Jenny with
the dishes. There were so many. She seemed grateful, and handed me a tea-towel
to dry up with. </span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">"What are your favourite subjects at school?" she
asked me as she washed up a load of cups.</span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">"English and art." I replied. </span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">"Oh, I love art! I still have one of my old paintings
that I did in high school. Would you like to have a look later?"</span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">"Yes please." I replied. </span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">We got on so well. I suppose I was a bit of a geek, staying
inside talking to an adult when I should be outside having fun with my peers.
But that's just the way I am. After a while, Ruby came in too and we both
admired Jenny's painting, which was a self-portrait, and very good. She was very
pretty, with long auburn locks.</span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">After lunch, Ruby and I were sitting outside chatting when
Shaun came over. </span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">"Are you enjoying the party?" He asked.</span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">"Yeah." I said.</span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">"That's good. How come you aren't in the pool?" He
sat down next to me.</span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">"Oh, it's a bit too full. I don't want someone
dive-bombing on top of me." I smiled. </span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">"That makes sense. You should come round sometime when
it's a bit quieter." He answered.</span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">"Really? Thank you. Yes that would be nice." I got
flustered. </span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">I noticed Ruby grinning at me and felt myself blushing. I
wasn't used to this type of attention from a boy. </span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">He stayed and chatted for a while with us, before joining
the boys again for a game of lilo-races.</span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">"I told you he fancied you!" Laughed Ruby.</span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">"No, I think he's just being polite." I replied. </span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">"Rubbish. Guys don't ask girls round to their place
just to be polite. What planet are you from? Oh my gosh, there's Melissa. She
looks annoyed." </span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">I looked up to see Melissa staring at me, and not in a
friendly way. She'd obviously seen Shaun talking with me. She sniffed loudly
and walked away when she noticed that I'd seen her. </span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">When my Dad came to pick me up after the party, Shaun again
asked if I'd come round soon, and maybe stay for dinner?</span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">I said that would be nice.</span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">"See you on Monday, thanks for coming." He beamed.
</span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">"Sure, thanks for inviting me." </span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">I quickly left, before I said anything stupid. </span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<o:p><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></o:p></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">I went to his house for dinner the following Saturday night.
His Mom was really nice again, telling Shaun how I also liked art. I got on ok
with his Dad too, who didn't talk much. After dinner, Shaun showed me his new
keyboard - he was having lessons. He played a Beatles song on it - 'I wanna hold
your hand'. He wasn't bad. </span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Then he said "I really like you." </span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">"Oh, um, I like you too," I replied, taken aback. </span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">"I was thinking... would you like to go out with
me?" </span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">"Ok." I answered, feeling myself blushing again. </span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">"Cool. Do you want to go to the cinema with me next
weekend?" </span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">"Yeah." </span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">I looked away and pretended to find a picture on the wall
really interesting. I really didn't know how I was meant to act. I'd never had
a boyfriend before.</span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">His Mom seemed pleased when Shaun announced that I was his
girlfriend. I think it was a couple of months later when she first suggested
that she take us to the local art gallery. Shaun didn't want his Mom hanging
around, but I said I didn't mind. She was driving us there and back anyway, so
it'd seem rude to make her sit and wait for us in the car. </span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">I had been to the art gallery a couple of times before, but
Jenny really made the art come alive. She seemed to know an interesting fact
about every painter. She also knew who the local artists were; she was friends
with a couple of them. I was chuffed when she said she'd introduce me to one of
them one day. I hadn't met a real artist before.</span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">-</span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">That was 30 years ago. I can't believe that the time has
gone by so fast. I still feel like a 12 year old on the inside. We still regularly
attend art galleries together. And the theatre. We recently started going to an
art class at the local college too. We might even be in a local exhibition at
the end if we're good enough. I'm enjoying painting and sculpting and drawing
again - just like in high school. The difference is that I usually drive now. Jenny's
retired but we still have lots in common. </span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">And Shane? Oh no, we broke up years ago. We were 14 when I
found out that he was cheating on me. With Melissa. She just couldn't help herself.</span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">They only went out for a few months when he caught her cheating
on him with a boy from the year above. Quite funny really - they deserved each
other.</span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">And that's the story of my first love. It didn't turn out
like expected, but then it rarely does. </span></div>
Alex Dixonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09842058329002589722noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7384270659227157002.post-24371811912066021832014-01-14T06:00:00.002-08:002014-01-14T06:56:25.456-08:00Sarah's story<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt; line-height: 115%;">"Sarai, I have something to tell you." <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt; line-height: 115%;">Abram and Sarai were eating lunch together. Sarai popped a
piece of bread in her mouth and looked at her husband. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt; line-height: 115%;">"God has told me that I am going to have as many descendants
as there are stars in the sky." Abram announced. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt; line-height: 115%;">Sarai choked on her piece of bread. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt; line-height: 115%;">"I'm sorry, I don't think I heard you right. God said
that you are going to have lots of children?" Asked Sarai incredulously. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt; line-height: 115%;">"Yes. And grandchildren and great-grandchildren."
Smiled Abram.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt; line-height: 115%;">"How exactly is God going to give you all of these children
and grandchildren? He does realise that you are old and I am post-menopausal, doesn't
he?" <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt; line-height: 115%;">Sarai believed in God but this was ridiculous. And if He really
wanted them to have children, why would he make them wait until they were very old?
Why not bless them when they were healthy 20- or 30- somethings? Even if they did
have a child now, who would look after it when they died of old age? It didn't make
any sense. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt; line-height: 115%;">"Abram," she said, "that's great that you have
so much faith in God. But can't you see that it's just an impossible dream for us
now? Maybe if we'd have been younger. You know how we longed for children for so
many years. But we decided that God had other plans for us, other ways to bless
us. Why bring this up now?"<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt; line-height: 115%;">Abram finished his drink slowly.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt; line-height: 115%;">"I haven't brought it up, God has. He has made me a promise.
And I believe Him. He's God - he can do anything! Now, I need to get back to work.
One of the shepherds has been causing problems again and I need to have a word.
See you later." <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt; line-height: 115%;">Abram kissed his wife on the forehead and ambled out of the
house. Sarai noticed that he was walking slowly these days, not with the energy
that he had as a young man. And his once-lustrous hair was now grey and thin. She
stood up to clear the table. How dare God make her husband a promise that he didn't
intend to keep? She did love God, but this had really upset her. It would just get
Abram's hopes up.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt; line-height: 115%;">-<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt; line-height: 115%;">Sarai woke up one morning with the idea. If God was to bless
them with many descendants, but she could no longer bear a child, what He'd probably
meant was that Abram was to impregnate a much younger woman. That made a lot of
sense. She had watched how Abram now walked with a spring in his step, often thanking
God for his promise and talking about what it'd be like to have a baby in the house.
She didn't think her husband noticed how much this saddened her. But, if their Egyptian
slave Hagar was to bear Abram a child, then God's promise would be kept! Abram would
be such a proud father, and she, Sarai, could raise it as if it were her own. Well,
besides the nursing, she couldn't do that. And she was a bit too old to be woken
in the night - she needed her rest. Perhaps Hagar could look after the child herself.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt; line-height: 115%;">Hagar would do as she was told. But she had to think of a
way to convince her husband that this was a good idea. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt; line-height: 115%;">That night, Sarai prepared a feast for her husband. It contained
all his favourite food - freshly made bread, lamb, and delicious vegetables. She
made sure that Hagar was well dressed as she served them that night. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt; line-height: 115%;">"Thank you." Said Abram. "That was delicious.
What's the special occasion? Have I forgotten our anniversary again?"<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt; line-height: 115%;">"No Abram. Hagar and I prepared it together. I just wanted
to show how much I love you. I have a suggestion. I would like you to listen to
it carefully before responding. You and I both love God, and would love to see his
promise come true about our having a child."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt; line-height: 115%;">"Yes, I can't wait!" Responded Abram happily. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt; line-height: 115%;">"Well, don't you think that what God actually meant was
that you would have a child, and I would simply raise it as my own? I mean, it's
obvious that I am far too old to conceive and safely carry a baby now! My suggestion
is that you sleep with Hagar. That way you can have all the descendants that God
promised you."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt; line-height: 115%;">"What? No! I am sure that God meant for us both to become
parents." Replied Abram. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt; line-height: 115%;">"But how? How can you be sure that this is what God meant?
Can't you see that I am too old? This way makes a lot more sense, I'm sure you will
agree." <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt; line-height: 115%;">Sarai placed her hand gently over her husband's.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt; line-height: 115%;">"It wouldn't be infidelity, you know. Just fulfilling
God's plan."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt; line-height: 115%;">Abram continued to disagree with his wife, but eventually
she wore him down with her arguments. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt; line-height: 115%;">So Abram and Hagar slept together, and soon she conceived
a child. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt; line-height: 115%;">When Hagar realised that she was pregnant, she was filled
with guilt. She had known that it was wrong to sleep with another woman's husband.
What now? Would Sarai be filled with jealousy and order her baby to be killed? And
Abram, would he really see their child as his own?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt; line-height: 115%;">She began to hate her mistress for putting her in this awful
position. Every time she served Abram food or asked if he needed anything, Sarah
would stare at her. As her belly grew, she found it more difficult to perform household
tasks. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt; line-height: 115%;">"This is Sarai's fault." She thought to herself
after another sleepless night of leg cramps and rushing to the toilet. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt; line-height: 115%;">Sarai noticed that Hagar was unhappy and treated her differently.
One day, the pregnant slave snapped when Sarai asked her to lift something.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt; line-height: 115%;">"Do it yourself!" She cried. "Can't you see
I am heavy with child?"<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt; line-height: 115%;"><o:p><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: small;"> </span></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt; line-height: 115%;">That night in bed, <span class="text">Sarai said to Abram,
“This is all your fault. I put my slave in your arms, and now that she knows
she is pregnant, she despises me. May the Lord judge between you and me.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span class="text"><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt; line-height: 115%;">Abram replied that Hagar was Sarai's slave,
and she could do what she liked with her. Sarai mistreated Hagar and soon the slave
ran away. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span class="text"><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt; line-height: 115%;">An angel found Hagar in the desert and asked
why she was there. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span class="text"><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt; line-height: 115%;">"I have run away from my mistress because
she hates me." Replied Hagar.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span class="text"><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt; line-height: 115%;">"Return to her and look after her. God
promises that you will be blessed with many descendants. You are going to have a
son. Call him Ishmael, which means 'God hears'. He will have many enemies, even
his brothers will be hostile towards him."<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span class="text"><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt; line-height: 115%;">So Hagar returned to Sarai. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span class="text"><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt; line-height: 115%;">When Abram and Hagar's son was born, they
named him Ishmael. Abram was 86 years old. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span class="text"><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt; line-height: 115%;">Thirteen years later, God appeared to Abram.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span class="text"><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt; line-height: 115%;">“This is my covenant with you: You will
be the father of many nations.</span></span><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt; line-height: 115%;"></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> <span class="text"><sup><span id="en-NIV-403"><span style="font-size: x-small;"> </span></span></sup>No longer will you be called Abram; your name will be
Abraham, for I have made you a father of many nations.</span> <span class="text"><span id="en-NIV-404">I will make you very fruitful; I will make
nations of you, and kings will come from you.”</span><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span class="text"><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt; line-height: 115%;">God gave Abraham the covenant of circumcision,
and also renamed Sarai Sarah.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<span class="text"><sup><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt;"> </span></sup></span><span class="text"><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt;">Abraham
fell facedown; he laughed and said to himself, “Will a son be born to a man a
hundred years old? Will Sarah bear a child at the age of ninety?”</span></span><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt;"></span> <span class="text"><sup><o:p></o:p></sup></span><br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEis7zfAkJ7b2vfiS7w251JmasqjBpjjRpPJ_rOEeKfQpsd-Nzr_i3LcS0U36SNwYsNbigI3IcGdFk3KgkqYlf3iYRS0zq5Zf3-CSgV8nbvWmp_R_w-EkvaFmNXb10Fqd0j6_OMji1ZX_M_T/s1600/Sarah+and+baby.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="223" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEis7zfAkJ7b2vfiS7w251JmasqjBpjjRpPJ_rOEeKfQpsd-Nzr_i3LcS0U36SNwYsNbigI3IcGdFk3KgkqYlf3iYRS0zq5Zf3-CSgV8nbvWmp_R_w-EkvaFmNXb10Fqd0j6_OMji1ZX_M_T/s400/Sarah+and+baby.png" width="400" /></a><span id="en-NIV-416">
<br />
<span class="text"><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt;">And
Abraham said to God, “If only Ishmael might live under your blessing!”</span></span><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt;"></span><o:p></o:p><br />
<br />
<span id="en-NIV-417"><span class="text"><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt;">God said, "Yes, but your wife Sarah will
bear you a son, and you will call him Isaac. And as for Ishmael, I have heard
you: I will surely bless him; I will make him fruitful and will greatly
increase his numbers. He will be the father of twelve rulers, and I will make
him into a great nation.</span></span><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt;"></span> <span class="text"><span id="en-NIV-419">But my
covenant I will establish with Isaac, whom Sarah will bear to you by this time
next year."<o:p></o:p></span></span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt;">That day, every
man in Abraham's household, including Ishmael, was circumcised.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt;">Later, three
men visited Abraham and told him that this time next year, Sarah would have a son.
Sarah was eavesdropping on their conversation, and couldn't help but laugh. She
just couldn't believe it.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt;">Soon Sarah started
being sick every morning and whenever she was hungry. One of the young ladies she
was talking to, said <o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt;">"That's
weird. I only ever get sick like that when I'm pregnant. I knew she was on her way
when I started feeling nauseous all the time, and couldn't keep down my breakfast."<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She smiled and kissed the top of her baby daughter's
head.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt;">Sarah stopped
what she was doing. Could it be true? Could she finally be pregnant? It couldn't
be possible, surely. She tried to shrug it off. But when she felt a sharp kick against
her belly one morning, she knew that God had kept his promise. She was going to
have a baby!<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt;">Sarah rushed
to find Abraham and tell him the good news. <o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt;">Soon she gave
birth to a son who they called Isaac.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt;">Sarah could not
believe that finally, after so many years of barrenness, God had blessed her with
a child of her own. He had kept his promise! She couldn't understand why He had
made them wait for such a long time, but at last, their beautiful son was here.
<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt;">Sarah cradled
her newborn in her arms.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<span class="text"><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt;">She
said, “God has brought me laughter, and everyone who hears about this will
laugh with me.”</span></span><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt;"> <span class="text"><span id="en-NIV-521">She added, “Who
would have said to Abraham that Sarah would nurse children? Yet I have borne
him a son in his old age.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></span><br />
</span>
<br />
<span class="text"><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt;">Abraham
watched his wife and son together and thanked God for his faithfulness. He had never
felt more proud. <o:p></o:p></span></span>Alex Dixonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09842058329002589722noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7384270659227157002.post-37305362121398716892014-01-06T13:13:00.001-08:002014-01-06T13:13:16.655-08:00Sarah<span class="text"><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 11pt;"><o:p><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">God had
promised to Abraham (at the time known as Abram) that one day his descendants
would be as numerous as the stars in the sky. <o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<span class="text"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt;">He took him outside
and said, “Look up at the sky and count the stars—if indeed you can count
them.” Then he said to him, “So shall your offspring<sup value="[<a href="#fen-NIV-366d" title="See footnote d">d</a>]">
</sup>be.”</span></i></span><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt;"></span><o:p></o:p></i><br />
<br />
<span id="en-NIV-367"><span class="text"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt;">Abram believed the </span></i></span><span class="small-caps"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt; font-variant: small-caps;">Lord</span></i></span><span class="text"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt;">, and he credited it to him as righteousness.</span></i></span><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt;"></span>(</i></span><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt;">Genesis 15:5-6)<br />
<br />
But Abram's wife Sarai had not heard from God. She had to take her husband's
word for it that the unseen creator would perform a miracle and bless them with
a child in their old age. <br />
<br />
Why should Sarai believe this crazy promise that her husband told her about?
Would you? I must admit that if I were in her position then I wouldn't be in a
hurry to decorate the nursery either. </span><span style="font-size: 10pt;"><o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">Sarai
tried to trust God, but it was just too hard. Instead of waiting for a miracle
she decided to help God along. Instead of being patient she decided to speed
things up in her own way. It's understandable in a way. She really wanted God's
amazing vow to be fulfilled but she just couldn't see how it possibly could be.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;"><o:p><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: small;"> </span></o:p></span><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">Sarai
intervened by convincing Abram to sleep with a servant girl to get her
pregnant. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<span class="text"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt;"></span></i></span><br />
<span class="text"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt;">Now Sarai, Abram’s
wife, had borne him no children. But she had an Egyptian slave named Hagar;</span></i></span><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt;"> <span class="text"><span id="en-NIV-384">so she said to
Abram, “The </span><span class="small-caps"><span style="font-variant: small-caps;">Lord</span></span><span class="text"> has kept me from having children. Go, sleep with my slave; perhaps
I can build a family through her.”</span><o:p></o:p></span></span></i><br />
<br />
<span class="text"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt;">Abram agreed to what
Sarai said.</span></i></span><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt;"> <span class="text"><span id="en-NIV-385">So after Abram had been living in Canaan ten years, Sarai his
wife took her Egyptian slave Hagar and gave her to her husband to be his wife.</span></span>
<span class="text"><span id="en-NIV-386">He slept with Hagar, and she conceived.</span></span><o:p></o:p></span></i><br />
<br />
<span class="text"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt;">When she knew she was
pregnant, she began to despise her mistress.</span></i></span><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt;"> <span class="text"><span id="en-NIV-387">Then Sarai said to
Abram, “You are responsible for the wrong I am suffering. I put my slave in
your arms, and now that she knows she is pregnant, she despises me. May the </span><span class="small-caps"><span style="font-variant: small-caps;">Lord</span></span><span class="text"> judge between you and me.”</span> </span></span></i><span class="text"><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt;">(Genesis
16:1-5)<o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<br />
<span class="text"><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt;">Sometimes
it's hard for us to trust God, especially if we have been given prophetic words
that seem unlikely or are taking too long to be fulfilled. Manipulating people
or situations can often seem like an easy answer, but can have unhappy
consequences. <o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<br />
<span class="text"><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt;">Sarai
bitterly regretted her decision to let her husband sleep with Hagar. I'm sure
that every time she saw their son Ishmael, she was reminded of her mistake. It
would have been hard not to feel bitter, and ask God angrily why she still
hadn't conceived. <o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<br />
<span class="text"><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt;">God
sent three messengers to remind Abraham (God had changed his name) of his
promise. Sarai's name was also changed to Sarah.<o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<br />
<span class="text"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt;">Then one of them
said, “I will surely return to you about this time next year, and Sarah your
wife will have a son.”</span></i></span><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt;"></span><o:p></o:p></i><br />
<br />
<span class="text"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt;">Now Sarah was
listening at the entrance to the tent, which was behind him.</span></i></span><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt;"> <span class="text"><span id="en-NIV-436">Abraham and Sarah
were already very old, and Sarah was past the age of childbearing.</span></span>
<span class="text"><span id="en-NIV-437">So Sarah laughed to herself as she
thought, “After I am worn out and my lord is old, will I now have this
pleasure?”</span></span><o:p></o:p></span></i><br />
<br />
<span id="en-NIV-438"><span class="text"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt;">Then the </span></i></span><span class="small-caps"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt; font-variant: small-caps;">Lord</span></i></span><span class="text"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt;"> said to Abraham, “Why did Sarah laugh and
say, ‘Will I really have a child, now that I am old?’</span></i></span><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt;"></span> <span class="text"><span id="en-NIV-439">Is anything
too hard for the </span><span class="small-caps"><span style="font-variant: small-caps;">Lord</span></span><span class="text">? I will return to you at the appointed time next year, and Sarah
will have a son.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></i></span><br />
<br />
<span class="text"><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt;">(Genesis
18:10-13)<o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<br />
<span class="text"><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt;">God
had not given up on his promise, despite Abraham and Sarah's sin. At the right
time (according to the Lord, not people) Sarah finally conceived their longed-for
son.<o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<br />
<div class="chapter-2" style="margin: 1em 0cm;">
<span class="text"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt;">Now the </span></i></span><span class="small-caps"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt; font-variant: small-caps;">Lord</span></i></span><span class="text"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt;"> was gracious to Sarah as he had said, and
the </span></i></span><span class="small-caps"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt; font-variant: small-caps;">Lord</span></i></span><span class="text"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt;"> did for Sarah what he had promised.</span></i></span><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt;"> <span class="text"><span id="en-NIV-516">Sarah became
pregnant and bore a son to Abraham in his old age, at the very time God had
promised him.</span></span> <span class="text"><span id="en-NIV-517">Abraham gave
the name Isaac<sup value="[<a href="#fen-NIV-517a" title="See footnote a">a</a>]">
</sup>to the son Sarah bore him.</span></span> <span class="text"><span id="en-NIV-518">When his son Isaac was eight days old, Abraham circumcised him,
as God commanded him.</span></span> <span class="text"><span id="en-NIV-519">Abraham
was a hundred years old when his son Isaac was born to him.</span></span><o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<br />
<span id="en-NIV-520"><span class="text"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt;">Sarah said, “God has
brought me laughter, and everyone who hears about this will laugh with me.”</span></i></span></span><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt;"> <span class="text"><span id="en-NIV-521">And she added, “Who
would have said to Abraham that Sarah would nurse children? Yet I have borne
him a son in his old age.”</span><o:p></o:p></span></span></i><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt;">(Genesis
21:1-6)<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<span class="text"><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt;">I
can only imagine how ecstatic Abraham and Sarah were! God had not forgotten
them after all. <o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<br />
<span class="text"><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt;">I
can't really blame Sarah for what she did. Sometimes having faith is really
hard. But it would've been so much easier for her if she had trusted God and
waited for his perfect timing. <o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
</span><br /></o:p><br /></span><br /></span><br />
Alex Dixonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09842058329002589722noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7384270659227157002.post-23152130714003267442013-11-09T12:36:00.002-08:002013-11-09T12:36:37.130-08:00The Gate in Swindon
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">The Gate in Swindon town Centre (near Iceland) is a new
charity shop, being run by Dawn Prosser who also runs the Gateway Furniture
Project with her husband Kevin. (gatewaychurchswindon.org.uk/gateway-furniture).
The building is shared with Healthy Planet (healthyplanet.org), an organisation
that gives books away for free to save them from landfill. </span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">It's much more than a charity shop though. It's set out
really well. On the ground floor are the free books (you can take three at a
time) and some furniture for sale, as well as adult clothes and shoes. Upstairs
is a well thought-out baby/toddler play area as well as children's books and
toys. There is also a cafe area, where you can have free tea or coffee. Yes,
free! </span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">It's a welcoming place and the volunteers are always
friendly and ready to chat. Currently there are 17 volunteers who help out, but
more are needed. If you don't have much spare time but can bake, why not bake
some cakes for the shop? Please contact Dawn if you can help.</span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">All sorts of people from different backgrounds use the shop
and it serves the community of Swindon well. There is a steady stream of people
visiting throughout the day. When I called in there were clients of many different
ages and backgrounds - from mums with babies looking forward to putting their
feet up with a free cuppa to pensioners looking for a bargain or a free book. </span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Dawn has had the opportunity to pray for someone almost every
day, and a few people are planning to visit Gateway Church after their trip to
The Gate.</span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Children in Need is on Friday 15 November and The Gate will
be hosting a Pudsey-themed cake competition: bake and decorate a cake and have
it judged between 10:00-11:00 on the day. Entry forms are available from the
shop as well as Gateway Church. There is an entrance fee of £2 - all proceeds
to Children in Need. There will also be a Pudsey photo booth (£1 per go) with
local photographer Sabine Coe.</span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Or come along on Saturday 16 November for more Children in
Need fun. You can take part in the live cupcake decorating competition at
12:00. </span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Dawn is looking for a face-painter (or anyone who can offer
some silly skills) to volunteer on Saturday- please contact her if you can
help.</span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">It's great to see somewhere that's focussed on community and
is caring so well for the people of Swindon. Opening times are Monday, Thursday
and Friday 10-3pm and Saturday 10-1pm.</span></div>
Alex Dixonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09842058329002589722noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7384270659227157002.post-4607824654480300792013-11-08T06:36:00.002-08:002013-11-08T06:36:59.824-08:00Hard lifeWe live in such an entitlement culture here in the UK. Whether that's moaning about what benefits we are entitled to; knowing our rights (but not always our responsibilities); or feeling sorry for ourselves that our lives aren't as shiny as the next person's. <br />
<br />
It's easy to get sucked into this 'poor me' mentality. Now I'm not having a go at people on benefits, I get some myself and am very grateful to the government for them. In South Africa where I was born, if you lost your job you went hungry, unless your family or church provided for you. And you could have 10 kids- the govt. certainly wouldn't give you any tax credits for them. Also you pay for school in SA. I don't think that many British people would be too happy with that over here. Anyway...<br />
<br />
Meet Murray Hambro. He is 33 years old and used to serve in the Second Royal Tank Regiment in Afghanistan. One day his tank drove over a roadside IED. He was sent 40 feet into the air and sustained broken feet and pelvis, crushed vertebrae and damaged liver and spleen amongst other injuries.<br />
<br />
His feet were so damaged that he had to have a double amputation. The story could end there, but it doesn't. Instead of feeling sorry for himself and going around telling people about how hard his life was, he just got on with it. He quickly learned to use his new prosthetics, and took his first steps on new legs three months after being injured.<br />
<br />
He decided to follow his love of motorbike racing, now that a career on the front lines wasn't an option. He got a specially adapted bike that meant he could race seriously. He joined True Heroes Racing and now takes part in the British Superbike Championship. <br />
<br />
If this man can follow his dreams, then so can you and I. Stop blaming other people, difficult circumstances or a tough childhood and just get on with it. <br />
<br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.bbc.co.uk/sport/0/motorsport/22265878">http://www.bbc.co.uk/sport/0/motorsport/22265878</a><br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.bbc.co.uk/iplayer/episode/b03hd21y/Remembrance_Week_Series_4_Episode_5/">http://www.bbc.co.uk/iplayer/episode/b03hd21y/Remembrance_Week_Series_4_Episode_5/</a><br />
<br />
Alex Dixonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09842058329002589722noreply@blogger.com0