Good-bye, Hello, Hello, Hello!

              

The Faithful Old Friend--Good-bye

  It has been an interesting week here in our little flat.  On Monday, whilst sitting here at my computer, the phone rang.  The young lady on the phone identified herself as an employee of Faulkner’s Plumbing and wanted to know if Tuesday was be a good day for a plumber to come and install a new boiler.   She indicated that it might be a two-day job, as a new radiator was to be installed as well.  On the hope that it would take only one day, I said, that yes, Tuesday (the 15^th) was acceptable.

                I wrote in my diary/calendar, “Faulkner—8.00 to 9.00 am—boiler replaced.”  Each morning my alarm goes off at 7.00 am, so I get up and take my morning medications; unfortunately my bad habit is to return to bed for at least another hour.  But Tuesday morning this was not an option.  I got dressed in anticipation of the workman coming.  It was 7:45 am, and I thought, “I’ll lay on the couch and snooze.  I have between 15 minutes and an hour and 15 minutes.”  I had just settled when the buzzer shrieked at me.  It was 7:50 am—forget 15 minutes!  I didn’t even get five! 

                The young man who was at the door was over six feet tall, and solidly built.  After inviting him in I directed him to the kitchen to show him the boiler.  He was so energetic and enthusiastic, I couldn’t help but ask: “Have you always been a morning person?” 

                “Oh yeah.  I’ve been down in the car since 7.30 am, waiting.  But I thought I’d ring the bell and see if it was okay to come up.” 

                “That’s fine.”  I said, secretly wishing I could go back to bed.  “By the way, my name is “Lady Helene”. “

                The young man was bending over, removing cleaning products and laundry detergent from the sink.   He was getting to the stop-cock under the sink.   “My name’s Harry.  They call me Harry Potter.”

                “Would you like coffee, Harry?” 

                “That would be perfect.”

                I poured coffee for him, and for myself.  Harry made short work of the coffee and then made another trip to his vehicle to get equipment. 

                As Harry got to work, I excused myself, telling him I wasn’t feeling well and laid down to doze on the couch.  I hate the trembling, weakness, and weariness that comes over me at times.  But at least I was out of Harry’s way. I dozed about 90 minutes.  When I got up I made some phone calls.  I had learned that indeed I would need to work at home on Wednesday.  That meant a phone call to the Vicar to inform him.  After that I made a couple of other personal calls.

                It was after lunch and I was checking my e-mail in my studio when Harry interrupted me.  “Do you want the bad news first or the good news?”

                I turned the chair to face him.  “Well, Harry, the bad news first.  Always the bad news first.”

                “The bad news is your cooker is disabled.  I found a gas leak. “

                “Great!” I said with droll sarcasm   “What’s the good news?”  I asked a bit disheartened.

                “You need a new cooker (stove & oven).”  He said, philosophically.

                Well, I wasn’t pleased by that news.  It broke my heart to hear that I had to say good-bye to the old stove.  That faithful gas cooker, with the grill at the top, had served me well in the eleven years I’d lived here.  Every time I lit a match to light the burners or oven I was reminded of stove in Grandma’s kitchen.  A new cooker would mean no need for matches; no more lighting memories along with the matches.  Deep sigh.

                Equally, I did not fancy having to spend money on a new major appliance.  “The Maverick” is now seriously training for his 2,300 mile ride to raise awareness of human trafficking and raise support for two anti-slavery organisations.*  He still needs to purchase plane tickets, some specialised bicycling clothes, and have cash for buying food along the way.  The timing is just not good for needing a new cooker. 

*(See “the Maverick’s blog” http://www.themaverickrides.blogspot.co.uk/).

                But, “The Maverick” is using some of his limited spare time to search on-line for a new stove/oven/grill.  He is great at doing research. 

                So, good-bye faithful friend.

The New Duvet, awaiting the duvet cover

                Week before last I was at Sainsbury’s, shopping for groceries.  Remembering that Sainsbury’s was the store a friend had bought some tea towels that looked very similar to Cath Kidston designs,( https://www.cathkidston.com/)  I went down the house wares aisle.   I didn’t find the tea towels.  But I DID find a beautiful duvet set—luscious yellow background, with red roses and peonies.   It was £20, very reasonably priced.  The last time I’d bought duvet covers was 2003 in South Africa.  We were due!  So, I bought it!  Say hello new Duvet cover.

                The duvet on our bed was on “The Maverick’s” bed long before I ever arrived here in England.  It was old, stained, and getting flimsy.  I refused to put the new duvet cover on the skanky old duvet.   This time I asked “The Maverick” if our budget could afford a new duvet.  While it was possible to get one for about £20, I wanted to invest in a high quality duvet.   I found what I wanted on clearance price at Soak and Sleep, an on-line store.  (http://www.soakandsleep.com/). 

         

A Fresh Bed!

       Thursday I changed the sheets—putting on new sheets.  I’d bought the yellow sheets a couple of years ago whilst in Florida.  But I’d never opened the package.  So all the bedding was new—sheets, duvet, duvet cover and pillow cases.    How lovely to sleep in such a fresh bed!

                So, good-bye stove, hello, duvet set, and new duvet.  Now, I’m just waiting for hello new cooker!

Serving Jesus, Author of our faith

“Lady Helene”

This mornings giggles...

I was sitting on the edge of the bed this morning getting dressed for work.  

The Maverick comes in and says: "It's so nice to have warm feet!  Now, where did I leave them?"

"What, your warm feet?" I counter.

"No, my trousers.  Stop being obstreperous."  :-)

So "THAT'S" what happened!

I’m grateful for  http://www.biblegateway.com/ for many reasons—the many resources, such as keyword search, topical index, and passage look-up.  Over twenty translations/versions of the Bible are available for comparison study and/or reading.  But one of the tools I really like is the Daily Reading Plans.  http://www.biblegateway.com/reading-plans/ 

            Over the years I’ve pretty much stuck to the Old and New Testament readings.  But this year I thought I’d go for the Chronological Reading plan.  So today’s reading was from Joshua , chapters nine through eleven.  Most times I try to take a few minutes to pray and ask God to speak to me through the daily reading.  Otherwise, I might as well be reading any other casual reading material. 

            I don’t know about other people, but it can be the obscure words or phrases that catch my attention.  Especially if it is a word I’m already familiar with—and think I know it’s meaning.  Then I look up the word and find out that it means something different.  Or, I see that word in a new context, and how it applies to my life. 

            Today, the word, “Hamstrung” caught my attention, when I read:  ⁹ So Joshua did to them as the Lord had told him: he hamstrung their horses and burned their chariots with fire."  Joshua 11:9  

My first thought was, “Why weren’t the horses just killed?  Wouldn’t hamstringing them just make them useless? “   

Apparently such is not the case.  After an internet surf to search, I learned that cutting the tendon at the back of the horses’ hocks rendered them incapable of speed and the strength to pull heavy loads.  But once the horse healed, it could be used for transportation, and carrying light loads.   This was certainly a new thought to me. 

One of the links presented the question to me:  “Hamstrung?”  http://reachingfinland.wordpress.com/2011/11/30/hamstrung/ 

This article is well worth reading.  It put an incident in my life into a new context.  In 2000 I had sent a manuscript to my friend, Elaine Wright Colvin. (Elaine Wright Colvin is a market specialist, editor, and career consultant for hundreds of authors. She directs the international organization Writers Information Network and publishes the WIN-INFORMER, marketing and trends newsletter, from Bainbridge Island, Washington-- http://writersinfonetwork.blogspot.co.uk )  Elaine kindly sent the book manuscript to two editors for critique.  These kind women did critique it with notes and instructions.  Instead of having the box sent to my post office box, I had it sent to my street address.  Unfortunately, the box disappeared—never to be found. 
At this point I’d been hamstrung.  I wanted to do the re-write—but didn’t know how or what to change.  And here I am, fourteen years later and no further with a writing career or a re-written manuscript.  My writing actions are what my mother would have called, “Played at”, but never have been driven. 
Earlier this year, I prayed for a breakthrough in this area.  I needed to know what had knocked my determination to follow this calling.  God spoke through this scripture, through another person’s blog post and now I can pray for healing. 
Please pray with me and for me. 
Serving Jesus, Author of our faith,
“Lady Helene”

Teach Us to Pray

  

 

    Response: Jesus said, ‘Pray like this’.

                       Father, help us to pray your way.

God our Father, who lives in heaven and in our hearts, we want to be like Jesus.  When Jesus prayed He went to a secret place.  Teach us to love the secret place where we can spend time with you and pour out our hearts.    Bless the leaders of Your church, so that they will lead us your children into the truth of Your love.  Bless missionaries—like Josh and Nina Cleaver and Andy and Valarie Simcocks.  Give them all resources they need.  Help us to always pray for them.

Response:  Jesus said, ‘Pray like this’.

                    Father, help us to pray your way.

Almighty and all loving Heavenly Father, teach us how to make a difference in the world.  We pray for the families and friends of the missing airplane, from Malaysia.  Comfort them.  We ask that you hear the many prayers of the Ukrainian people for peace, justice and religious freedom and answer them.  We pray for the refugees in Syria, South Sudan, and other areas of conflict.  Help aid-workers get food, water, medicine and clothing to those who need it.  Provide hope to all who suffer.  Show us how each of us can do something—by praying daily, if nothing else.

Response:  Jesus said, ‘Pray like this’.

                    Father, help us to pray your way.

Father of All Comfort, we ask You to touch and heal those we know who are ill: 

·         Those with colds, flu or other respiratory infections

·         Those fighting cancer

·         Pastor Colin Hartley, and others with cardiac illnesses

·         Heal those with broken bones

·         Help those who are brokenhearted, and struggling emotionally.

Jesus, You paid for their healing by hanging on the cross.  Let each person feel your powerful healing touch. 

Response:  Jesus said, ‘Pray like this’.

                    Father, help us to pray your way.

Father of all, thank You for providing daily for all we need.  Help us remember, our greatest need to is to know You and draw close to you.  When we pray, we are showing love to all the people we pray for.  Help us be faithful in working with you in this way.  Father You know the things we need before we ask you; therefore, we  pray:

Our Father in heaven,
Hallowed be Your name.
¹⁰ Your kingdom come.
Your will be done
On earth as it is in heaven.
¹¹ Give us this day our daily bread.
¹² And forgive us our debts,
As we forgive our debtors.
¹³ And do not lead us into temptation,
But deliver us from the evil one.
For Yours is the kingdom and the power and the glory forever. Amen.^[c]

Eleven years, eight days...

                Early Sunday evening, and I would love to lay down and take a nap; but it is too late for that.   I got back to the house about 3.30 pm—which would have been an excellent time to have a kip.  Especially since “The Maverick” is working this evening.  Instead, I check my e-mail, played card games on my computer and checked the TV guide listing for tonight.

 Inside my mind waged this little battle of laziness verses determination to write a blog post.  Hmmmm…to give into my sleepiness and satisfy my lethargy, or live with the guilt and disappointment from a lack of disciple and nothing to show for my afternoon?  Which option do I prefer. 

                The “I shall persevere” won. 

                Today is Sunday, 26^th January.  Eleven years  and eight days ago The Maverick and I exchanged wedding vows at Indianapolis Christian Fellowship on a snowy Saturday afternoon.  The morning started out bitterly cold, clear skies and sharp, biting wind.  Carrying a cup of coffee and a breakfast sandwich from McDonalds, I trudged through the re-frozen snow of the church parking lot to the building.  I was the first one there—arriving about 9.30 am. 

                By 2.30 pm that afternoon, the temperature had dropped a bit, the winds had brought grey, snow-laden clouds.  I stood at the back of the church, next to the coat racks, listening to the Twila Paris song, “He is Exalted” playing over the loud speaker, and watched my bridesmaids proceed into the sanctuary. 

                The back doors closed, and I walked to my place, on the arm of my friend’s arm.  The music swelled and the doors opened.  I looked at “The Maverick” and “Major Will” (who was officiating the ceremony.)  “Major Will” had and ear-to-ear grin on his face.  “The Maverick” had dropped his jaw, and I could see his eyes fill with tears of joy. 

                During the ceremony there were moments of quiet reflection, moments of laughter and moments of rejoicing music.  I don’t remember all the finer points throughout, but I do know that at the end of the ceremony we were husband and wife. 

                Last Saturday, 18^th January, “The Maverick” asked me if I wanted to invite anyone to join us for a meal out—to celebrate our special day.  We asked “Ms. Celia” to join us.  “Ms. Celia” was kind and provided a lift to the restaurant to which we went—Le Bettola--http://www.labettola.com/

                I worked at Worldspan Inc. in Hayes, Middlesex from 2004 to 2007.  I commuted to Hayes on the 81 bus daily, which drives by Le Bettola every day.  “The Maverick” rides his bike past the restaurant on his way to work at  the airport.  We wanted to find someplace other than the regular eating places we have eaten at before.  This was a celebratory meal.  When he asked me if I wanted to go there, I was delighted.  I’d wanted to eat there for years. 

                Only one other family was in the restaurant when we walked in, which seemed curious; that is until I realised it was early, only about 6.30 pm.  The 7.30 pm, the place was busy. 

                Le Bettola is a traditional family-run establishment, with bed and breakfast rooms available upstairs.   The atmosphere is an interesting balance of rustic yet contemporary.  The back part of the restaurant is a banquet room that can be reserved.  But for this evening, it was open.  It is actually a conservatory with a grape vine growing along the ceiling rafters.  In the summer the vines actually have grapes which are used for a house wine. 

                Seeing as how I am tea-total, I ordered lemon aid.  “The Maverick” and “Ms. Celia” shared a bottle of house wine.  The drinks came with bread, butter and a dish of olives with chilli.  Although I usually don’t like olives, for the sake of the evening, I ate two—which were flavoured with garlic as well as chillies.  The bread was warm, the crust crunchy. 

            For my entrée I ordered Spaghetti Cartoccio, which is spaghetti prepared with mixed seafood and baked in the oven.  “The Maverick” and “Ms. Celia” ordered Tagliatelle Volare which is

tagliatelle with squid and prawns, tossed in white wine, chilli and garlic, finished with a concasse of fresh chopped tomatoes.  It’s been some time since my taste buds were that happy!  The pasta bowls were full—and if you left hungry, it was because you didn’t eat! 

If you live close to Heathrow, Windsor or Hayes, Middlesex and want authentic Italian—then Le Bettola is the place to go. 

                I’d tell you what I had for dessert, but I don’t know the name of it.  But, it had ice cream, cream and coffee in it. 

                Unlike a lot of restaurants, who have one server per table, the food was served by several people—including the owner.  When one of them had a moment, they would stand and answer questions:

 “Is that wisteria? “

                “No, madam; that is a grape vine.  And if you come in the summer, you can see the grapes hanging down.”

                “Are the olives roasted?”

                “No, they were seasoned in a pan of butter, garlic and chillies.  It’s a traditional recipe.”

                “Is the bread brought in?”

                “No, we make all our bread here on site.”

The music playing subtly in the back ground, was a mix of contemporary soft rock and traditional Italian music.

                Our decision to visit Le Bettola again was unanimous, especially as the meal for all of us was very reasonable. 

               

                I am so thankful that “The Maverick” and I are so blessed.  Each year I think about how long I waited to get married; honestly, being a wife to “The Maverick”—who is kind, generous, funny, resilient, committed to God and tome—was worth the wait.