A trip down memory lane - Crispin's Hour

Crispin. The dog with an unpleasant secret.

Character List

Cheryl: up-and-coming young journalist

Darryl: unrequited lover of Cheryl

Murgatroid: Evil and conniving aunt of Darryl

Edmondo: Dishevelled husband of Murgatroid

Crispin: The dog with an unpleasant secret.

Scene One

It is a dark and stormy night. Crispin is cowering in his Doggy-bed . Murgatroid is mumbling stage left

Murgatroid: Stage left, stage left....WAAAAARGH!

Enter Darryl, flustered

Darryl: Oh Aunty, are you all right?

Murg: shaking and looking wildly out of the window Oh..oh my...it's out there.

Darryl: What. What's out there. Oh Aunty.

Murg: I knew it. It was only a matter of time...and now it's here.

Darryl: What Aunty? I...I don't understand.

Murg: You know who it's come for don't you? Darryl shakes his head CRISPIN!!!

They both trun slowly and look accusingly at Crispin.

Crispin: Bark?

Scene two

Cheryl's bedroom. Cheryl is combing her hair in front of the mirror.

Cheryl: Maybe I'll meet a beautiful young man called Sigmund tonight. Ho hum.

Suddenly lightening rips across the sky, lighting up the landscaped garden as clear as day.

Cheryl: What terribly nasty weather The phone rings Oo! Who can that be.

Darryl: Cheryl? Aunty's having a nasty turn. Could you come over and help me give her, her medicine?

Cheryl: I don't know Darryl, I am supposed to be going out tonight.

Darryl: It won't take long. Oh please Cheryl, for Crispin's sake.

Cheryl: Oh very well. But I can't stay long. They hang up

Scene three

Darryl is looking concernedly out of the window, Murgatroid is vibrating gently in the corner, Crispin is staring inanely at his Doggy-bone and Edmondo is hobbling across the room.

Edmondo: Are you all right dear?

Murg: Wibble muffin pie.

Darryl: Don't disturb her Uncle, she's had a nasty turn.

Edmondo: Oh piffle. I had a nasty accident with a seed drill you know!

They both go into a respectful silence

Cheryl: off stage Darryl? Oh Darryl?

Darryl: In here Cheryl

Enter Cheryl

Cheryl: How is she?

Edmondo: She's vibrating again.

Cheryl: Oh no. You know what that means don't you?

Edmondo and Darryl look questioningly at Cheryl. Cheryl looks at Crispin. Crispin begins to hum various excerpts from Andrew Lloyd-Webber musicals. Or so it seems....

Scene four

Everyone is gathered around the fire as the evening becomes cold and intimidating

Enter Darryl

Darryl: She's asleep. She whispered something about it being Crispins hour.

Edmondo: Crispin's asleep too. She was just delirious.

Cheryl: I've phone Antony, I've cancelled our date.  I understand what you're going through.

Crispin gets up and saunters over to the fireplace dragging his Doggy-pillow.

Darryl: That's strange. Crispin never usually leaves his Doggy-bed.

Cheryl: Oh my God!

Edmondo and Darryl: What?!

Cheryl: Do you not know what that means?

Darryl: It can't be!

Edmondo: I'm afraid it is.

Cheryl: Crispin's got an unpleasant secret!

They all turn slowly and stare at Crispin. Crispin looks at the audience, and his bewildered eyes glow gently.

Crispin: Yap.

Scene five

Everyone is sitting looking at Crispin, whose eyes are glowing in a most disturbing manner,

Edmondo: Prove it to us Crispin.

Cheryl: Prove it isn't true

Crispin slowly pulls a red coat out of his Doggy-pillow. It has a holiday camp badge attached to the sleeve.

Darryl: Oh no!!

Cheryl: Oh Crispin, how could you?

Edmondo: So he worked for Butlins, did he? That's nothing. I once had a nasty accident with a seed drill.

Crispin: Damn Jethro Tull.

THE END

My new career path

I've started doing sales again, this time it's for SAYR home ventilation, and we're running it as our own business as a distributor for the Auckland team.

Here's my business plan for June:

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Seasons of mist and mellow fruitfulness

Having been out on over a dozen home assessments, and gained 3 sales, with the anticipatory delight of 3 more fluttering in my heart, I now feel that this is the time to further improve my product knowledge, and my business training. 

I also believe that the brand of SAYR Waikato needs to be further permeated into the wide expanse of our beautiful slice of heaven in order for more people to benefit from its wondrous delights.

Having contracted one installer through brilliant networking techniques, and with another poised on the brink of diving into the SAYR lagoon, we are also considering adopting another Home Assessor into our warm, but strict SAYR family.

This essay is to discuss what actions I intend to undertake during the month of June to ensure my continued success in these endeavors.

I intend to learn more about my own product, how it works, how it is installed and maintained and how it was created.  To this end, I will contact the inventor and engage him in a complicated discussion of the technical details, then ply him with beer and extract company secrets for my own nefarious ends.  I also intend to contact our competitors and extract information from them in less pleasant ways, but always within the law.  I may need to employ disguises.

Training will need to be undertaken in order to fill any gaps in my knowledge, and ensure I have been selling customers what they think I have been selling for the last 5 months.   I would very much like to undertake a business management course, but with the fees being unaffordable, I have a plan to use my transferrable skills as a mother and housewife to further enhance my already brilliant business acumen (see appendix 1)

I have engaged the services of a local school to increase the advertising within our local area, I intend to expand on that and offer people connected with the school (or just anyone who sees the advert) a Discount and Donation Deal (DDD) where the customer will be entitled to a $100 discount of the RRP at the time of their Home Assessment, and the school will receive $100 as a donation from SAYR Waikato once the installation is completed and the balance of payment received.  Should this prove successful, the DDD will be expanded to other educational establishments, and potentially into more national groups such as Plunket and the Mongrel Mob.

I have been investigating my esteemed Sales Directors constant references to Maori Land Trusts, as I have considerable contacts within Maoridom.  I understand that the correct tikanga for approaching the Kaumatua of our local Iwi is to have a kupu whakataki from a Hapu or Iwi member, or at least some whanau who could whakapapa back to the local Marae.  To go into a Wharenui uninvited would be hakiki and would make us tapu in the eyes of all Maori from that Marae, and connected whanau.  In order for us to be rahiritia we need to ensure we perform the correct tikanga.  I have made some informal inroads with appropriate whanau members, which should start the process.

Finally, I plan to undertake specific training with my Home Assessor and Installers as and when appropriate, to ensure they are properly indoctrinated into the SAYR ethos.  As the winter progresses; advertising, word-of-mouth and general awesomeness will net us at least 4 sales in the month of June, with more to come.

In conclusion, June will be a month of spiritual and business expansion, we will enter the collective subconscious of the people of the Waikato and be the first brand they think of when they wake in their damp homes and despair that the mist and fog has permeated their very souls.  We will be their saviours in home ventilation.

Appendix 1 – transferrable skills

Hostage negotiation

Lecturing

Budget handling and bookkeeping

Teaching of complicated topics within listener’s mental ability

Peace negotiations

Anti-terrorism training

Guest Post - Heather Von st James

I got an interesting email from this lady asking if she could do a guest post on my blog.  I suppose this means I might be a mini-bit famous now?  Any way, she is:

Heather Von St. James

Courageous mother, wife and survivor of mesothelioma cancer.

Read more on her blog, The Mesothelioma Cancer Alliance blog

________________________________________________________________________________

Optimism in Tough Times
The dictionary says that an optimist is a person who looks on the favorable side of things, or a person who is hopeful and confident. However, my friends like to joke that my picture should be beside the word optimist in the dictionary! In a way, it's true. I have always been a cheerful, positive person, and can usually make others smile in tough situations.
At the age of 36, my optimism was tested in a way that I never expected. That year started off wonderfully with the birth of my first and only child, a beautiful baby girl. Just 3 1/2 months later, I heard the words I never thought I would hear: "You have cancer." When you are faced with life's toughest challenges, you have an important decision to make. You can become bitter, angry and depressed, or you can get up, brush yourself off and get ready to fight. I was determined not to lose my positive attitude, and decided to fight this disease with everything that I had.
I was diagnosed with malignant pleural mesothelioma. I was blessed to find one of the world's leading mesothelioma doctors to treat me. I had full confidence in my physician, and agreed to schedule my lung removal surgery for Groundhog's Day in 2006. My family and I decided to call Groundhog's Day Lungleavin Day instead, to remember the day of my successful surgery. To complete the nicknames, we affectionately referred to my tumor as Punxsutawney Phil. As a cancer survivor, it is important to remember your journey. Each year, I still celebrate Lungleavin Day with those who are closest to me. It is a special time to reflect on our blessings and the lessons learned through my battle with cancer.
At times, cancer has been both my best friend and my worst enemy. However, I can honestly say that I would not change one thing about my life, including my cancer diagnosis. It was through this disease that I found out that I could be strong, even in the face of overwhelming obstacles. I am proud of the way that I journeyed through cancer, and I am thankful to say that I am still able to look on the bright side of life.
Many people that I had the privilege to meet during my cancer journey have now become my lifelong friends. We are forever bonded because of our common journey, and we are now united in our desire to help others. We are young and old, male and female, rich and poor, but our hearts have been knit together thanks to our cancer battles. I want to spend the rest of my life giving hope to others who are dealing with cancer.

Yes for a day COMPLETED!

So far today has been a lot less stressful than I expected.  It’s 20 past 4 in the afternoon, and I’m stopping at 7pm which is their normal bedtime (it’s school in the morning, so sleep is not optional).

Today the kids have done a lot more than I usually let them, and it’s been an eye-opener for me.  I said yes to Mapera helping me with clearing the breakfast table, then she decided to do all her jobs as well; so her bed is made, her room is tidy and she put away all the things in the “tidy-up box”.  Her brother and sister had a ½ hour bath and Mapera decided to make Kaitereo’s bed for her too, so their room is looking lovely, and I didn’t even have to nag!

I cut Mapera’s hair yesterday due to tangle issues, and Kaitereo asked if I would cut her hair today.  I had to say yes, even though my hack job on Mapera’s hair did not fill me with confidence.  Luckily, they both love their haircuts and have declared that they don’t want to go back to the hairdresser again.

They’ve also been allowed to look at my pictures in frames that sit on the windowsill.  Usually I am afraid of breakages, but they were very careful and put them back afterwards, Hakopa also enjoyed saying “Uncle Tom” repeatedly.

We found some balloons to play with after breakfast, and then Mapera asked if they could watch a DVD as it was raining.  I said yes but after Hakopa went to sleep, and they agreed.  They then proceeded to have a 4 hour Clanger and Bagpuss marathon, with toast and butter for lunch in front of the TV.  After that Hakopa had woken up, so I insisted on it being switched off and they went outside to play.

We ran 3 races, and I helped Mapera and Kaitereo to ride on the big bike, and caught some chickens for Hakopa to pat.
I had to start getting dinner ready at that point, and the kids have been playing really nicely.  Afternoon tea time rolled around, and they asked for oranges to eat outside.  Then they wanted Tigerstix which I usually ration to 2 or 3 each.  Mapera had 9 and Kaitereo had 9 and Hakopa had 5.  Fortunately that was all the junk in the house eaten, so they had a drink of milk and went off to play again.

I’m going to make some playdough after writing this, something I have been promising to do for weeks and not got around to yet and which Kaitereo asked for again today.

Ok so now it’s 9pm and they went off to bed at normal time.  Dinner time was pretty normal, they wanted special cups and glasses which I said yes to, and they wanted to get down and play before pudding which was their final yes before bedtime rolled around.

Overall it was a much easier day than I feared, mainly because they spent most of it glued to the DVD.  I did insist that they keep asking nicely for things, and the old threats that the treat thing would be removed if they started fighting stayed.

I would not repeat the 4 hour telly marathon again, but I am going to be saying yes to them helping more, yes to the special cups more and yes to them looking at the photos of my friends and family (under supervision) more.  Now I just need a day where they say yes to everything I ask.

Yes for a day

I spend a fair amount of time saying “no” to my kids;

“can I play in the mud in my party dress?”

No

“can I tie this to my little brother?”

No

“can we have cake and lollies for dinner?”

No

I read somewhere that a Mum tried saying yes to her 4yr old for a week, I think that’s a little excessive, but I thought I might try it for one day.  I’m going to go for Sunday (because I’m already half-way through Saturday) and I am going to set a few rules.  Feel free to join me!

Rule 1 – Don’t tell the children

The idea is to see what they do when you start saying yes.  If you tell them you’re going to do it they will immediately start asking for everything and it won’t be as much fun.  Or easy to do.

Rule 2 – it has to be possible

Anything that is prohibitively expensive, physically impossible or dangerous is off-limits.  Everything else, well use common sense people.

Rule 3 – timescale

A day lasts from normal getting up time (7am in our house) to normal bedtime (7pm).

If this works out I may well do it again.  I will take pictures and post all about the results once it’s all over.

Depression medication explained

All the greens

Dark green

Green and yellow

blue-green

Grass-green

dusty green

Apple green

Blue hues.

Royal blue

Indian teal

Powder blue

Sky blue

Reds and greens - which is better?

I still can't see the difference...

Unfrumping the unfrumpable

I have joined an online plan to unfrump myself this year.  It started here and I hesitated about joining in at first because I still have children of "constantly sticky" age, but then I thought "if not now, when?" and joined.

My first task is to figure out what colours I like best on me.  I have no idea how to do this.  Colour-season website things tell me I'm an Autum; other people tell me to hold different colours up to my face and look in the mirror.  I cannot tell when I look better or worse, I just look a bit shit most of the time.

With this in mind, I am enlisting the help of a friend and we're going to try every basic colour from the rainbow out on me and then some, and post the pictures here to see what other people think I look best in.

Watch this space...

Lullaby for a woolly mammoth

WOOLLY MAMMOTH!  I am laid up with a bad back and my Mum sent me this, so here's your blog post for the week.  Normality will resume eventually.

Lullaby for a Woolly Mammoth 

Woolly Mammoth! 

Hear me sing.

Go to sleep you hairy thing.

You can snooze outside my door,

just as long as you don’t snore. 

Come on Shaggy, shut  your eyes.

 Now it’s time for beddy-byes

(sing to tune of Twinkle Twinkle)

(this is by James Carter who originally had it laid out to look like a woolly mammoth, I wrecked it to make it readable)

Dust if you must...

The Christmas Letter

I have not been sending out a Christmas letter these last couple of years.  Mainly because everyone I know is either on Facebook, or has a relative on Facebook who will pass news on.  I recently got a Christmas letter from a friend who is NOT on Facebook and from whom we had not heard for a while, it was lovely to hear her news and catch up, so I am going to attempt to organise myself into doing a Christmas or New Year letter from 2012 onwards.

For now, here’s a short Christmas letter for all you wonderful people out there:

Dear Family, Friends and people I met once and added on Facebook but who’s status update gets lost amidst all the Farmville requests,

This year has been an exciting one for us, since our chickens learned to mow the lawn, and Tareka can now spend a lot more time working on perpetual motion machines.  The children are growing fast, Mapera has been reading James Joyce and understanding it, Kaitereo has been training to be a human cannonball and Hakopa has been learning how to fly by throwing himself at the ground and missing.

The house and land continue to thrive, we are growing an entirely new hybrid of tomato, cheese & breadfruit plant, so we can pick fresh sandwiches all through the spring.  The cows continue to be an endless source of entertainment, and one of them does a passably good impression of Eddie Izzard which kept me and some friends amused for hours one evening.

My parents, as most of you know, are heading to the Moon for their holidays, Mum will love the cold, and Dad is looking forward to some diving in the Sea of Tranquility.  My brother continues to mystify us by appearing in various shampoo commercials.

Tareka’s family is all good too, digging their way to London in time for the Olympics as we speak.  Looks like it will be quiet down here next year, hope you all have a wonderful Giftmas and begin the New Year with a series of unrealistic resolutions.

All our love and best wishes

Louise and the clan

xxx

Making a committment to committees

I have Helium Hand syndrome, I tend to volunteer far too much for things when I really ought not to.  I have been trying very hard to scale back my volunteering since I had child number 3, but I still managed to get myself on a local committee last year.  The AGM is looming, so I have made a decision to step down from the committee and hand the responsibilities to another poor soul worthy person, but I still feel a bit guilty, like I haven't done enough.

If I apply my Wise Brain to this problem, I can point out all the things I have done, all the events I have helped with, the fundraising I have done, the administration and the leg-work.  I know rationally that I have helped a lot more that some people and a lot less than others, and that is nothing to be ashamed of, but I also know that if I step down, the workload is likely to fall back onto someone who is already overloaded.

Herein lies the problems of committees.  The people who care enough to join a committee and make an effort are always the same people in any community, so you end up with half a dozen people trying to fundraise and work for a hundred committees while the rest of the community sit back and go "ooh I don't know how you have time!"

I am also getting to a stage of my life when there I just cannot be bothered with cliques, snippy comments and bitchy behaviour. I've worked hard through therapy to be able to speak my mind in a calm and reasonable way without feeling guilty or worrying about offending people, and I'll be damned if I am going to get caught up in catfights between grown adults who ought to know better.  If anyone reading this blog thinks I am writing about them, then more fool them.  If I have a problem with someone, I try to sort it out with them directly.  This post is a general rant about crappy behaviour in adults I know both online and in real life.

This is where social media can be a real problem too.  Internet message boards, Facebook, Twitter and their ilk are all too easy to post in without giving yourself time to calm down, think things through and behave like a rational adult.  Even if you immediately regret and delete your words, someone out there will have read them and got the hump about it.

I read in one of my internet cubby holes that before you post something when you're feeling angry or upset you should Think, Wait, Answer, Tenderly.
  Sooo, if you're angry about something, before you post online for the world to see, just take a moment and T.W.A.T. it.

One of the many things about parenting you are never warned about.

The Sneaky Hate Spiral.  This is part of child-rearing that you must learn to live with, avoid, manage or control.  You will do none of these things particularly effectively, and the Sneaky Hate Spiral (SHS) will inevitably take you down on a regular basis.

I am at the tail end of a SHS today.  I woke up to the sound of my kids arguing about who was going to go in to see the Grandparents first.  Then there was something wrong with breakfast, I can't quite remember exactly what it was, but something was different and wormed it's way into my subconscious to sit gloating and humming Rick Astly songs.

I had the morning off, which should have been lovely.  The girls were out with the grandparents and the baby played nicely then went off to bed.  I got some cleaning done, the vacuum cleaner made a noise that didn't harmonise with Rick Astly.  I tried to get my household accounts up to date, and got as far as entering amounts onto my spreadsheet, then the internet kept interrupting and was all "hey, haven't seen you today.  Watcha doing?" and I was all "I'm trying to work" and the internet kept tapping me on the shoulder going "how about this? Does this make you laugh? You wanna discuss the terrible state of parenting in this country? You wanna tell someone off for comma misuse?"

So I picked up my knitting and tried to complete a section, but I kept ending up with an extra stitch at the end of the row, and after counting back over it, discovered I had made a mistake at the beginning of the row so had to unravel the whole row. I did this about 5 times.

Eventually the baby woke up and rather than his usual "Hey Mummy I'm awake, but I'm just going to sit and play happily in my cot til you're finished that row" he stood up and shouted "Mummy! Mummy! Mummy!" rather like that Ground Squirrel shouting "Alan!"

It all went quiet on the SHS for a bit when everyone else came home, then hubby called from work to say he was on his way, and we had a conversation that went something like this:
Him:What time are we doing that Thing on Saturday?
Me:Early enough to go into the city
Him:we're not going into the city
Me:yes we are, I told you about it
Him:no you didn't
Me:I have been talking about it since we decided to do the Saturday Thing
Him:you didn't tell me
Me: I HAVE BEEN TALKING ABOUT IT SINCE WE DECIDED
Him:I never heard you say it
Me:It's not my problem that you don't listen.
Him:OK see you *hang up*

Then I cooked dinner and it didn't do what I wanted and I didn't have enough noodles to make me happy then the kids whined and stalled at bedtime as usual then the knitting groundhog made me do the same row 6 times and my book keeps killing people.

I would go to bed, but I forgot to make bread earlier, so now I have to wait for the bread machine to make the dough (1hr30) then put it to rise (30mins) then cook it (another 30).  No I can't cook it in the bread machine as it is so old and worn out that it can barely mix the dough, and it expends so much effort in creating said dough, that if you cook it in the machine, the machine can't bear to part with the completed loaf and glues it to the inside of the pan, so despite Herculean efforts, you end up with the top half of a loaf in your hand, and the bottom half cemented into the bread pan as the machine has a nervous breakdown about you taking its baby away.

The only thing that helps at a time like this is cheese.

Who ever really knows us?

I have been pondering the nature of friendship recently, probably because I have been watching Doctor Who again.  Having moved a fair few times since my mid-teens, I have had to make new friends fairly often, and have had friendships that seemed deep and intense at the time, but turned out to be ethereal and fleeting in the grand scheme of things.

I was discussing childhood friendships with my husband, as he has not really kept in touch with any of his childhood friends, and I have.  I miss my friends when I leave, but thanks to the wonder of modern technology, have not lost really touch with them.  In some cases I have re-discovered some old friendships, which has been very nice, as I love to hear how well the lives of people I like have turned out.

I thought about the people I considered good friends through my childhood and teens, and if I am honest, although I love them all dearly, I don’t think there was ever one person I felt was a “best friend”.  I never really felt completely part of one group (as I have mentioned in older posts), or attached to one person above all others.

Since moving far, far away I have had a couple of old friends tell me how much they admired me as a teen, which was both flattering and surprising, as it came from people I admired and never thought would be truly worthy of being considered a friend of.

I was thinking, if these people admired me and I was unaware, maybe there are other friends out there who know me better than I thought.

I have a bit of a Hollywood ideal of what a “best friend” should be, so I wonder, would anyone know these things about me, or am I dreaming…

What is my favourite colour?

Who was my “first love”?

What is my favourite sort of music?

What is my favourite film of all time?

What is the best thing to buy me for Christmas?

What is my favourite alcoholic drink?

What is the most embarrassing thing I have ever done?

I don’t think I could answer all these questions correctly for any of my old friends and definitely not for any new ones yet, but although I am sad for not having that sort of sisterly closeness with one person, I am glad to have the wonderful friends I do have, and hope to make many more.

Do not feed the Drama Llama

The Drama Llama has come to my house.  You may not have heard of the Drama Llama, but I am sure you will recognise this wily beast after a while.

The Drama Llama sometimes comes at homework time, and when faced with a word that simply refuses to be spelled correctly, the Drama Llama rears up and declares that “it’s IMPOSSIBLE! I CAN’T DO IT” and then proceeds to burst into loud, wailing sobs, worthy of a traditional Greek mourner.

Other times the Drama Llama has spent all day cooking a beautiful meal and someone decides that they are not very hungry and the Drama Llama rants about how everyone can just go and eat Pot Noodles then, because they are Never Cooking Again.

Occasionally, there are 2 Drama Llamas in the house, which can result in the catastrophe escalating into epic proportions, involving tears, recriminations, much door slamming and refusing to apologise.

There is a way to deal with the Drama Llama.  It’s not foolproof, as sometimes the Drama Llama is determined to be your house guest for a while, but here’s a tip.

Do not feed the Drama Llama.

If the Drama Llama is starting to get worked up about the recorder being impossible to play, calmly refuse to get into a discussion about finger positions, regular practice, and tackling easier pieces of music.  Step away, and make a cup of tea.  Do not feed the Drama Llama.

If fed, the Drama Llama can fly out of control, causing untold damage to your doors, furniture, pottery and mental health.

Stay calm, do not respond, offer assistance to the Drama Llama and then back away slowly.

Remember, DO NOT feed the Drama Llama and it will eventually run out of steam.

What to talk about that does not involve the R word

I am ignoring the world cup.  This is fairly easy when you don't have a telly, but it is still surrounding me like a particularly lingering fart.

I've searched for other things to entertain me during this time of the entire country, and most of the world going a mini bit bonkers over what is essentially, just a game.  There are many, many more important things in the world that need media attention - CHRISTCHURCH EARTHQUAKE RECOVERY anyone?

So, here are the few things I plan to be doing until it all ends sometime at the end of October:

Knitting socks
Laughing at people doing stupid things, especially when they are people I know
Trying to come up with a pattern for knitting "some sick on the pavement"
Epilating
Wondering why my spell check thinks "epilating" should be "titilating"
Reading other blogs
Browsing through the non-rugby threads on my favourite Ravelry group
Learning how to Wake Up Full of Awesome
Reading Adult Comics (NSFW)

That's all for now, I am sure there are plenty more things I could be doing, but for now I'll avoid some housework and dig the garden.

The trouble with marrying an atheist is that “til death us do part” is true.

I used to be a fervently evangelical atheist; I believed that I was right about the non-existence of any form of deity or after-life, and I needed to show all the non-atheists out there how deluded they were.

Having married a man staunch in his faith who believes simply because he does, I have learned to understand faith a little more.  I still don’t agree, but I know now that trying to change his mind would be like trying to convince a toaster to run a marathon: it’s not what he’s built for.

When people ask me about it, I try and explain how for both of us our belief – one way or the other – is so deeply part of us that we are not conscious of it until it is challenged.  I have likened the situation to the Belief Chip from Red Dwarf.  Tareka is wired for faith, I am not.

I have come to accept that my husband’s faith is as much a part of him as his sense of humor and his inability to perform “active listening” convincingly.

We both believe what we believe and know that what matters is how we live now, rather that what might or might not happen after we die.  I accept and respect his faith and he mine.  We take the piss out of each other for our beliefs, but ultimately honor them.

Try looking at your partner, or your friend, or your neighbour in this way.  Try and understand that their faith (or lack of it) is not a failing or something that needs to be corrected.  It is part of what makes them who they are, and you care about them, so you should also care about their beliefs.  As long as no-one is trying to force you into something you do not agree with, then there is no reason that we can’t all behave well towards each other.

Love thy neighbour, even if he plays the trombone.

KN1TT1N6 633K!

I’ve been so busy on the latest projects this week that I completely forgot to blog about anything, so instead you can have a picture of what I’ve been doing:

I love Science and I love Knitting (capital letters, yes they are THAT important).  Thanks to it being the International Year of Science and the wonderful people of the Royal Society of NZ and the power of the internet, I am now part of the Knit the Periodic Table project.

I chose Europium because a lot of the cool elements were already gone by the time I found out about the project, and because I am from Europe (England, for those who don’t know).  I was also hoping for the atomic number 42, but it had already gone, so Europium it was.

It’s not hard to knit a square, I had to frog it once as my knitting is so loose that I needed to cast on about 5 fewer stitches than recommended, but other than that it was a simple project.  The letters were interesting; I’ve never tried knitting an E or a u before, so it was a learning curve.

My embroidery for the atomic number is passable, but I really should practice a bit more.

I’ve also finished the bed wrap for my Mum, and am ¾ of the way through some gloves for a friend’s daughter.

I may also have a new commission for a Dr Who scarf….watch this space!