Nemesis

 Holmes has Moriaty, Batman has the joker and the penguin, I have the fear of fried eggs.  Which is not quite in the same league I think.  I needed a weekend of food and walking, so being someone who has a friend who loves to have fun, I borrowed her idea - "go out to breakfast, do a big walk, have a cream tea"  All fabulous ideas.  It brings a wonderful dimension to my life to think "what would Sandy do"  When we talk, I know her values are having fun, and mine I suppose are doing my duty.  Which sounds really, really boring and serious.  But I like fun too!!  Too bad I should have checked the nice breakfast in the cafe at Budleigh because TWO runny fried eggs sat looking at me.  I share with my dad a loathing of the very smell of the things! I can eat them scrambled and possibly poached old style in a round buttered cup.  And HARD boiled.  But definitely not runny.  It helped that I'd paid for them, along with the nice bacon/sausage/tomato/hash brown....it was an immense and beautiful breakfast fit for a king.  I dutifully (see above) ate them dipping the toast into them...they stayed down while I walked, rather tentatively and all too full, around the 10 mile Budleigh to Sidmouth and down back via Otterton via Barrs Lane circuit.  

I'd forgotten how I hate walking up Peak Hill, especially in pelting rain, wearing a waterproof and shorts on a slippy muddy track.  My feet started to feel as if they had been beaten with a stick - it seems a long time since I've done a proper, decent walk and I was tired anyway - hence needing the weekend of food and walking!

The summer is definitely at the tip end, trees silvered along the field edges, grasses bronzed and brassy, seed heads and pods.  The fields have literal "corn rows" and stripes of green and fat rolls of hay. It was so good to feel cool, and to walk in a blustery breeze with chilly edges. Rain dripped off the hood edges and into my socks as I walked down to claim my cream tea.  

Walking makes a bit of space in my head to think.  I had taken the 40 days John book that frankly has been more like 80 days John....and wrote the following on the passage and the questions.  I am just pleased that writing is slowly filtering back down into my life.  I worry when I am word-less.

 

They came for you at night, the Light of the world.

Dark in the garden - with the sudden flare of torches

By lantern light. 

In the place of teaching and familiarity Judas betrayed you.

"Who is it you want" They say they "want" Jesus of Nazareth

But their words twist - a wanted man, taken in the blackness,

Soldiers weapon-ready, a spat of violent threat on a cold night.

Man meeting with God in the cool of the evening garden.

Where have I heard that before? It didn't end well that first time

This time a man is bound and hustled away.

It is truly dark, in the countryside, without lights.

And men flee and slink away, in shame, in relief, in grief.

Leaving Jesus to stand before the hard stare of state.

 The book raises the question:

"Jesus is utterly secure in his identity.  By contrast, Peter has forgotten he is Jesus' "rock" and has become a morass of fear and doubt.  Who are you looking for?  Ask yourself the question - "Are you Jesus' disciple?" How would you answer?" (not too heavy then!!!)

Jesus, you know I love you.  You know I find it hard - to believe you are in me.  Because all I do is think - sometimes there seems to be little heart, no feeling - but you say you love me for that thinking.

I find it hard to see and remember that the pearl of great price, your shining presence, is found in the rough, ridged warped oyster shell of this human being.  I'm not a plaster saint more's the pity.  But you are in my life, and I made that right choice.  You say you love me dearly.  You say I will never leave you.  You say I am preparing a place for you.  My identity in you is solid and fixed, however sea driven I feel.

And that is enough.  I have a rock.  A hold-fast, when everything is swirling currents of doubt and fear.

Fight Club

I raise a hallelujah, in the presence of my enemies
I raise a hallelujah, louder than the unbelief
I raise a hallelujah, my weapon is a melody
I raise a hallelujah, Heaven comes to fight for me

Chorus
I’m gonna sing, in the middle of the storm
Louder and louder, you’re gonna hear my praises roar
Up from the ashes, hope will arise
Death is defeated, the King is alive

Verse 2
I raise a hallelujah, with everything inside of me
I raise a hallelujah, I will watch the darkness flee
I raise a hallelujah, in the middle of the mystery
I raise a hallelujah, fear you lost your hold on me

Bridge
Sing a little louder
In the presence of my enemies
Sing a little louder
Louder than the unbelief
Sing a little louder
My weapon is a melody
Sing a little louder
Heaven comes to fight for me


I'm not sure about the theology, but for the last couple of times this was played and sung at church it's had a powerful impact on me.  I really like the phrase "Up from the ashes/hope will arise" because I have sung this song through gritted teeth, with what has felt like a chestful of tears.  I'm not much of a worshipper but God gets me singing this in the car to him and around the house in the morning and whistling it while copying endless Crossrail A3 plan sheets....let's hope he enjoys it!

So this weekend, I finally got the permanent contract I needed so much.  And I smiled when I thought that God used a firm where the managing director is a betting man who trains and races greyhounds and my immediate boss is a pool playing partying extrovert to give a person who'd rather read and swim a job.  And they cheered with me and were so delighted.  It's been an interesting 18 months.  

Nomads

What to do on a wet blustery Saturday that is cheap and fills in an hour before child friendly swimming has ended?  Obvious - visit the museum! Saunter past the stuffed things and shelly remains and then decide: Art - too serious today - or - Nomads.  I really like the temporary exhibition gallery.

I chat to the museum lady and we share a cheap crack at the expense of the dragons of the National Trust and stand and stare at the beautiful, weird, wild, inventive, creative and plain odd shelters that are created by the transient communities of the world.  It seems they are basically grouped into types - cave based, sort of dome shaped, tent shaped.  A world of leaves and woven plant stalks, hand loomed camel hair coverings, felt and rammed earth. Some look like Morris men's capes, some like the wigwams of my not-at-all-politically correct childhood.  North America and Northern Russia - same sorts of shape - land bridges? Migration? - reminds me of watching the fascinating Alice Roberts TV series, "Human Journey" which I must have seen about 3 times - thank you BBC repeats!

I can tell I've got a bible soaked head - I stand in front of the lovely Berber tent and think "Oh maybe this is what Sarah and Abraham's tent looked like?" Hospitable and open, blanket colours and a portable shade in a harsh landscape.  Then look at the little lake dwellings built by a fishing community - can't remember where - who ram stakes into the sand - and build fragile looking platforms and shelters where you can see the water beneath your feet.  And think - definitely here if you are wise, you build your house on sand!!

The texts make the point that you don't need to consume to be happy.  That most of these are community builds.  And I guess that most of us try to build some kind of community as a harbour.

And then, strategically placed by the exit I run into my white lower middle/working class background prejudice.  Because the last exhibit is on Devon Travellers. And I can feel a "grrrrrr" No way to excuse prejudice.

Field of Dreams

Field of Dreams?  "If you build it - they will come" - the only line I remember from this Kevin Costner film!  This is my workplace, and they certainly build it.  Working in the greenhouse like atmosphere of the office above the shopfloor I have to walk the length of the factory to the graphics shop who produce the visuals for the signs we are making.  It fascinates me.  My walk takes me past the Pacer - I have looked it up - a big, noisy "CNC router" which precision cuts letters, the paint shop with a spray booth and huge ovens for firing paint finishes.  When I started, my boss got us pasties which were heated up in the paint shop ovens.  There is a massive screen print set up, areas for "decal cutting" and vinyl printing, a full booth designated for welding equipment behind protective plastic curtains and this open, untidy despatch area with packing tables, vast rolls of bubble wrap - this is where signs pile up ready for the van or the couriers truck.  There's quite a distinctive smell about the place - hard to define, not unpleasant - vinyl and metal dust maybe.  It looks old fashioned and worn but the quality of the signs produced amazes me.  I walk past 5meter "totems" for Greggs which dwarf me.  There are big green plastic fascias for Jobcentre Plus, and lovely decorative panels for Kew gardens. I would love to know what the various trades guys do but they are busy and I can't interrupt.

What do you hear? The constant sound of the extraction systems, keeping the dust down, the aforementioned noisy pacer, drilling and a bit of hammering, and the radio over all the factory, the sound of the forklift reversing and one of our project managers swearing when something isn't despatched or made correctly.  I sincerely hope that this will not be me on the end of his burst of Tourettes at any time. He's a volatile man with a catchy temper but a sweet man to work with. They've made me feel so at home.  It's been so very good to get my confidence and banter back - everything the NHS hated, this job have seen as being in my favour - from asking questions to taking my time to work slowly and steadily. No one minds short hair - and it is so hot that shorts are obligatory from the MD down to the guys on the shop floor.  Apparently it is freezing in winter.....

It may not be rocket science but there is something to be said for a stable environment.  It feels like the factory equivalent of my church to me - stable, steady, not known for being massively exciting - but really good.  I've found stability to be such a key value in my life after so much shifting sand beneath me.