Dear friends. I haven't published a Blog for 15 days now. I understand that this was bad and wrong of me and that I am a miserable sinner and probably ought to repent meekly kneeling upon my knees. However, I am making amends now.
So, Christmas Day has come and gone and we're now in that bit between Christmas and Epiphany which is called *looks it up* oh ok, The Christmas Season, fair enough. I've had a lovely Christmas consisting of a significant amount of Toblerone, board games and things made out of Turkey, the usual really. It was great to spend some time with the fam. Presents-wise we've come off rather well, and not only do I now have a large collection of scriptural socks but also a remote control Mini Cooper and a 32" TV to replace our old one which was so microscopic you couldn't really see what was on it. The Diocese also gave me a rather generous voucher which I have spent on Common Worship: Times and Seasons and Common Worship: Christian Initiation with some money still left over!
And so it's the end of 2011. If 2011 were a clock it would be 11.52pm, if it were the alphabet it would be a definite Z day, if it were a year it would be the 30th December which is what it is. It's been an important year for Paul and I. When we started this year I hadn't met the Bishop or been to a BAP, I hadn't even set foot on the Holy Hill, I didn't even really know what a Cotta or a Credence Table or a Canticle were. (I'm not absolutely sure what one of those things are now, won't tell you which though!) More importantly, I wasn't exactly sure where my life was going. I think we're both a lot clearer now and, for now, things seem to be going pretty well.
And now I come out of 2011 into 2012 with my arms laden with several Common Worship books and a large TV. What does 2012 hold, I wonder?
One thing's for sure, 2012 is going to be even more eventful than 2011. How do I know? Oh, I just do...
Friday 30 December 2011
Tuesday 13 December 2011
End of Term Review
Well, if abandoning your Blog for over 2 weeks is a crime (and experienced Bloggers say it is) I really ought to blog today. So here I am. Blogging. Hello.
You find me, at this time on a Tuesday afternoon, drinking tea in my pyjamas. Now, I know you're worried that I might miss evening prayer, but guess what? Term's over. The kitchens lie foodless, the Common Room fireplace flameless and the Common Room sofas studentless.
I can't believe I've done a whole term at Cuddesdon. (1/6 of my time here in fact!) When I look back to the 22nd September it doesn't seem that long ago, but it's amazing to think I've only known many of my fellow Ordinands for little more than 2-and-a-half months! And that the routine of 7.30am morning prayer, 8.30am breakfast, 9am lectures, 12.50pm lunch etc. etc. has only been mine for only that long.
If I'm honest, the MTh is still taking some time getting into. I thought I'd relish being a student again, and I do, sort of, but not in the way I used to. Unless I'm romanticising my time as an Undergraduate, which is perfectly possible. I'm reminding myself that reading academic books is hard, that I'm not always interested in the subject and can't always find something to say in seminars. But it's not all like that. We've studied some brilliant things too. African perspectives on Theology was great, and I even rather enjoyed Feminist perspectives on Theology (dives under desk to protect self from rapid fire from fellow MTh chaps.)
Bright Hour last week was a real highlight. It's sort of a variety show, but most of the jokes are on an ecclesiastical theme, you get the idea. I managed to make the second half only, as I had to rush back from Cutteslowe. It was great looking around the room at the familiar faces having a good time together. It's amazing how quickly community forms.
Of course, my real highlight has been the forming of that community. At the beginning of the term I feared that I would remember the names of my 70-or-so fellow ordinands, let alone spouses and children, but somehow that's clicked into place. Well, I'm still working on the children. Quite good at remembering pets' names though!
Tomorrow I'm off to the Bodleian to get down to some serious work on my first proper essay: 'What are the Implications of Doctrines of the Resurrection Body on Personal Identity?' I had to submit it to the MTh panel for approval a few weeks ago, and fortunately it made it through intact, and I'm enjoying reading on such a meaty subject. My formative essay, on Art, received a dubious 'quite good' from my Tutor. I wasn't that pleased with it, so I'm determined I'm going to throw myself into this one. And, hey, by sitting in the Bod, maybe I'll feel like I'm really studying at Oxford. And if I don't, does it matter? Probably not!
You find me, at this time on a Tuesday afternoon, drinking tea in my pyjamas. Now, I know you're worried that I might miss evening prayer, but guess what? Term's over. The kitchens lie foodless, the Common Room fireplace flameless and the Common Room sofas studentless.
I can't believe I've done a whole term at Cuddesdon. (1/6 of my time here in fact!) When I look back to the 22nd September it doesn't seem that long ago, but it's amazing to think I've only known many of my fellow Ordinands for little more than 2-and-a-half months! And that the routine of 7.30am morning prayer, 8.30am breakfast, 9am lectures, 12.50pm lunch etc. etc. has only been mine for only that long.
If I'm honest, the MTh is still taking some time getting into. I thought I'd relish being a student again, and I do, sort of, but not in the way I used to. Unless I'm romanticising my time as an Undergraduate, which is perfectly possible. I'm reminding myself that reading academic books is hard, that I'm not always interested in the subject and can't always find something to say in seminars. But it's not all like that. We've studied some brilliant things too. African perspectives on Theology was great, and I even rather enjoyed Feminist perspectives on Theology (dives under desk to protect self from rapid fire from fellow MTh chaps.)
Bright Hour last week was a real highlight. It's sort of a variety show, but most of the jokes are on an ecclesiastical theme, you get the idea. I managed to make the second half only, as I had to rush back from Cutteslowe. It was great looking around the room at the familiar faces having a good time together. It's amazing how quickly community forms.
Of course, my real highlight has been the forming of that community. At the beginning of the term I feared that I would remember the names of my 70-or-so fellow ordinands, let alone spouses and children, but somehow that's clicked into place. Well, I'm still working on the children. Quite good at remembering pets' names though!
Tomorrow I'm off to the Bodleian to get down to some serious work on my first proper essay: 'What are the Implications of Doctrines of the Resurrection Body on Personal Identity?' I had to submit it to the MTh panel for approval a few weeks ago, and fortunately it made it through intact, and I'm enjoying reading on such a meaty subject. My formative essay, on Art, received a dubious 'quite good' from my Tutor. I wasn't that pleased with it, so I'm determined I'm going to throw myself into this one. And, hey, by sitting in the Bod, maybe I'll feel like I'm really studying at Oxford. And if I don't, does it matter? Probably not!
Tuesday 29 November 2011
Advent
Well, Sunday was the first day of Advent. Now, if you're one for chocolate Advent calendars you don't get to start til the 1st. But as far at the Church is concerned it started on Sunday. The dictionary reliably informs me that the word Advent means "the coming, or arrival, of something extremely important."
Of course, what is important about Advent is that the one we are waiting for is Jesus. But didn't he come about 2,011 years ago? Well, yes. But we're waiting for him again because that's how the Liturgical year works.
I'm really starting to dig the whole rhythm of the Church year. When you're going to church twice a day (which I am, at the moment, for - quite literally - my sins...) something like the altar cover changing colour (it's BLUE!) or having a shiny new Advent preface for something becomes very exciting. It's ringing the changes, because as of the 27th November we're into a completely different stage, we are waiting for something extremely important.
So what've I been up to just recently?
Well, many of you will have followed the saga of Dougal's paw on Facebook. Basically, he's been limping for a week and this morning his front left paw was twice the size of his other paws. So I bundled him into the car and to the vets we went. A trip which involved me getting quite literally covered with numerous cat bodily fluids including a copious amount of blood, and lightening my wallet to the tune of £48, but it feels like the right thing to do. And now we're going to have to bathe the poor infected little mite's paw in salty water twice a day as well as persuade him to eat some antibiotics, which I'm sure he'll just love.
Put you off your tea and biscuits did I, sorry?
I've also been writing my essay. It is a formative essay and entirely optional but I think I ought to do it because the last essay wot I ever wrote was in May 2008 which was to all intents and purposes quite a long time ago. I have entitled this one "The Quest for Beauty: A Theological Reflection on Art Tourism." It feels a bit silly and frivolous but I'm enjoying writing it.
Group E were on Hospitality last week (I can't remember whether I explained this to you in an earlier post, the college is split into five groups, A to E, with E standing for Excellent obviously, and we rotate different college duties each week.) Being on Hospitality meant I got to meet and greet some lovely visiting candidates on Saturday. One of them was betwixt BAP and BAP results so we shared BAP stories and I realised with surprise that mine seems years and years ago now, so much has happened since. And yet it was less than 7 months ago.
Hardworking Group E are on Worship this week which means we cover a number of duties in the running of the College's services. I assisted at Creative Eucharist last night, and at BCP Eucharist this morning, and I'll be reading at Thursday Morning Prayer. I feel like I'm getting more confident with the whole serving thing. Last time we were on worship I spent the whole evening before I assisted at a Eucharist worrying about it, rehearsing it over and over in my head. I didn't feel the need to do that this time. I suppose once you've done something once...
It's amazing how near the end of term we are. This week is the last week of proper lectures, next week is a Themed Study Week (TSW) on Leadership, then we're done. I'll miss Morning and Evening prayer, and being in such lovely company, but it will be good to have a few weeks off for a rest and to start on my other essays.
And, of course, to reflect on all that Advent means.
Of course, what is important about Advent is that the one we are waiting for is Jesus. But didn't he come about 2,011 years ago? Well, yes. But we're waiting for him again because that's how the Liturgical year works.
I'm really starting to dig the whole rhythm of the Church year. When you're going to church twice a day (which I am, at the moment, for - quite literally - my sins...) something like the altar cover changing colour (it's BLUE!) or having a shiny new Advent preface for something becomes very exciting. It's ringing the changes, because as of the 27th November we're into a completely different stage, we are waiting for something extremely important.
So what've I been up to just recently?
Well, many of you will have followed the saga of Dougal's paw on Facebook. Basically, he's been limping for a week and this morning his front left paw was twice the size of his other paws. So I bundled him into the car and to the vets we went. A trip which involved me getting quite literally covered with numerous cat bodily fluids including a copious amount of blood, and lightening my wallet to the tune of £48, but it feels like the right thing to do. And now we're going to have to bathe the poor infected little mite's paw in salty water twice a day as well as persuade him to eat some antibiotics, which I'm sure he'll just love.
Put you off your tea and biscuits did I, sorry?
I've also been writing my essay. It is a formative essay and entirely optional but I think I ought to do it because the last essay wot I ever wrote was in May 2008 which was to all intents and purposes quite a long time ago. I have entitled this one "The Quest for Beauty: A Theological Reflection on Art Tourism." It feels a bit silly and frivolous but I'm enjoying writing it.
Group E were on Hospitality last week (I can't remember whether I explained this to you in an earlier post, the college is split into five groups, A to E, with E standing for Excellent obviously, and we rotate different college duties each week.) Being on Hospitality meant I got to meet and greet some lovely visiting candidates on Saturday. One of them was betwixt BAP and BAP results so we shared BAP stories and I realised with surprise that mine seems years and years ago now, so much has happened since. And yet it was less than 7 months ago.
Hardworking Group E are on Worship this week which means we cover a number of duties in the running of the College's services. I assisted at Creative Eucharist last night, and at BCP Eucharist this morning, and I'll be reading at Thursday Morning Prayer. I feel like I'm getting more confident with the whole serving thing. Last time we were on worship I spent the whole evening before I assisted at a Eucharist worrying about it, rehearsing it over and over in my head. I didn't feel the need to do that this time. I suppose once you've done something once...
It's amazing how near the end of term we are. This week is the last week of proper lectures, next week is a Themed Study Week (TSW) on Leadership, then we're done. I'll miss Morning and Evening prayer, and being in such lovely company, but it will be good to have a few weeks off for a rest and to start on my other essays.
And, of course, to reflect on all that Advent means.
Sunday 20 November 2011
The Pessimist's Piece
Hello friends. It was pointed out to me during the last week that the essential message of my previous Blog post was "look how brilliant Theological college is! I have no work and can spend all day playing croquet!"
Now, college is brilliant. Very brilliant. But perhaps I have slightly misrepresented my croquet vs work time ratio to you all. So, bearing in mind that I am enjoying college very much and am, in fact, the happiest I have been in very many years, here is my list of the top ten most difficult things about training for ordination. In no particular order.
1) Having no time.
It's Sunday, the day of rest. Strictly speaking I shouldn't be working today. But so far I have got up, gone to breakfast at college, whizzed into town on the P&R to pick up some materials for Group Worship on Wednesday, come home for a very quick lunch, read for 3 hours and sat down to write this Blog Post. I'll eat dinner about 4.30pm then head to St Andrew's for the evening service. The upside is that I like being busy and it's great preparation for the busy life of the Parish Priest.
2) Having no idea what's going on in the world.
Related to the previous point, the amount of time I can spend doing things that I used to do like watching TV and browsing the Internet for hours is limited. I've watched half-an-hour of TV in the last week and that was Rev! I sometimes glance at the papers in the Common Room in the morning, but I've no idea what's going on in the X Factor, Strictly or I'm a Celebrity. Which is arguably a good thing.
3) Not Seeing Enough of Mr A
"Hello, how's your day been? Good? Great. I'm off out again to Evening Prayer, then my Group's on Serving Duty so can you make your own dinner? Then I need to do 20 pages of reading for a seminar tomorrow. Then we can watch a DVD, if you like." 'Nuff said, though it's not for me to moan. I can't imagine what it must be like for those with kids.
4) Having Limited Contact with Friends.
Being able to get Facebook on my phone is a Godsend and I hope that I can make the most of the little time I'm back in Devon and Somerset in the Christmas Holidays.
5) Constantly Questioning How I'm Fitting In
Actually, I'm fitting in fine. We're all fitting in fine. Because there's no norm of what it is to fit in. But it's only been in the last week or so that I've truly managed to tame that little voice which goes "Do people like me?" "Am I spending enough time in the Common Room?" "Has everyone else formed a million long-lasting friendships already?" It's like starting University but worse, because Vicars are meant to be able to naturally slip in and out of any social situation, aren't they?
6) Getting Up At 6.30am
Every time the alarm goes I have to fight an intense urge to lob it out the window.
7) Placements Are Set To Try You
My placements are great. The people at my placements are great. It was my decision to go for placements out of my comfort zone and I'm learning a great deal from them. But if you're not a naturally talented youth worker - which I'm not - walking into a hall full of boisterous children is going to take some getting used to, with lots of time and energy given to knowing how to approach it.
8) Am I Clever Enough?
We're in Oxford. My colleagues on the MTh are supremely intelligent. Many have come straight from University. I can't pronounce half of the words they use, let alone know how to spell them or what they mean.
9) Can't I Just Be a Vicar Now?
Well, no, I can't. But there's always that thought whenever I'm learning about something exciting. I want to just get up and do it!
10) It's Only for a Time
A sobering thought when one is playing croquet, eating breakfast bacon that someone has lovingly cooked for me, placing filthy washing up on an enchanted trolley which disappears through a magical door, sitting an Oxford MTh paid for entirely by someone else, reading a great book because that's what I'm here to do, conversing with fantastic and wonderful people - I'm not here forever. In 2 years time I'll be somewhere else entirely. It's easy to forget that college is a transitional place.
Well, that's my piece for the day. You'll understand, I can't hang on long. Over and Out.
Now, college is brilliant. Very brilliant. But perhaps I have slightly misrepresented my croquet vs work time ratio to you all. So, bearing in mind that I am enjoying college very much and am, in fact, the happiest I have been in very many years, here is my list of the top ten most difficult things about training for ordination. In no particular order.
1) Having no time.
It's Sunday, the day of rest. Strictly speaking I shouldn't be working today. But so far I have got up, gone to breakfast at college, whizzed into town on the P&R to pick up some materials for Group Worship on Wednesday, come home for a very quick lunch, read for 3 hours and sat down to write this Blog Post. I'll eat dinner about 4.30pm then head to St Andrew's for the evening service. The upside is that I like being busy and it's great preparation for the busy life of the Parish Priest.
2) Having no idea what's going on in the world.
Related to the previous point, the amount of time I can spend doing things that I used to do like watching TV and browsing the Internet for hours is limited. I've watched half-an-hour of TV in the last week and that was Rev! I sometimes glance at the papers in the Common Room in the morning, but I've no idea what's going on in the X Factor, Strictly or I'm a Celebrity. Which is arguably a good thing.
3) Not Seeing Enough of Mr A
"Hello, how's your day been? Good? Great. I'm off out again to Evening Prayer, then my Group's on Serving Duty so can you make your own dinner? Then I need to do 20 pages of reading for a seminar tomorrow. Then we can watch a DVD, if you like." 'Nuff said, though it's not for me to moan. I can't imagine what it must be like for those with kids.
4) Having Limited Contact with Friends.
Being able to get Facebook on my phone is a Godsend and I hope that I can make the most of the little time I'm back in Devon and Somerset in the Christmas Holidays.
5) Constantly Questioning How I'm Fitting In
Actually, I'm fitting in fine. We're all fitting in fine. Because there's no norm of what it is to fit in. But it's only been in the last week or so that I've truly managed to tame that little voice which goes "Do people like me?" "Am I spending enough time in the Common Room?" "Has everyone else formed a million long-lasting friendships already?" It's like starting University but worse, because Vicars are meant to be able to naturally slip in and out of any social situation, aren't they?
6) Getting Up At 6.30am
Every time the alarm goes I have to fight an intense urge to lob it out the window.
7) Placements Are Set To Try You
My placements are great. The people at my placements are great. It was my decision to go for placements out of my comfort zone and I'm learning a great deal from them. But if you're not a naturally talented youth worker - which I'm not - walking into a hall full of boisterous children is going to take some getting used to, with lots of time and energy given to knowing how to approach it.
8) Am I Clever Enough?
We're in Oxford. My colleagues on the MTh are supremely intelligent. Many have come straight from University. I can't pronounce half of the words they use, let alone know how to spell them or what they mean.
9) Can't I Just Be a Vicar Now?
Well, no, I can't. But there's always that thought whenever I'm learning about something exciting. I want to just get up and do it!
10) It's Only for a Time
A sobering thought when one is playing croquet, eating breakfast bacon that someone has lovingly cooked for me, placing filthy washing up on an enchanted trolley which disappears through a magical door, sitting an Oxford MTh paid for entirely by someone else, reading a great book because that's what I'm here to do, conversing with fantastic and wonderful people - I'm not here forever. In 2 years time I'll be somewhere else entirely. It's easy to forget that college is a transitional place.
Well, that's my piece for the day. You'll understand, I can't hang on long. Over and Out.
Sunday 13 November 2011
Okay Croquet
The rather contrived title for this post takes as its inspiration my new favourite thing. Croquet. "Hang on a minute!" I hear you cry, "surely very few people other than the Queen and Prince Philip know how to play this game, and surely it requires a flat lawn and fair weather, and surely you've got something better to do?"
Well yes, let me explain.
I do have some things to do (preparing for seminars, placement journalling, general spiritual reading) but nothing with a deadline. I mean, while some courses are happily beavering away on an essay a week, MTh still have many months until we can hand ours in. Added to this, I am weak and easily swayed. So however adament I am that I'm getting down to some serious reading, the golden words "would you like to play croquet?" are all I need.
"But, why croquet?" say you. Well there's very little else to do at Cuddesdon.
Maybe I'm doing myself down, I'm sure I've done some other stuff since my last installment. Well, there was Youth Group on Thursday in which I led the craft activity. We made a poms poms, and some of the young people were quite into it, so I'm pretty pleased. Friday was Guest Night in which me and Mr A and many others pretended to be waiters and seemed to largely pull it off. And today I went to 8am BCP at St Andrews. Paul came along too and rather enjoyed it, which was great. Then we went for a coffee at the hallowed Green Cafe, and played football this afternoon.
So all in all not a bad few days. Weekends never reeeally feel like weekends, but then in the old days we did very little at weekends. And now we do lots. In general, life is good. I'm still bowled over every time I think about how fortunate I am to be here and still can't believe I'll be a deacon in two years (hopefully...!) I'm also amazed and delighted at how much Mr A is loving his course and, as far as I can see, he appears to be doing rather well at it. Hurrah!
It's the first time for years that, at this point in November, I haven't been egging Christmas on. This year, Christmas can come as slowly as it wants. I've too much to do!
Well yes, let me explain.
I do have some things to do (preparing for seminars, placement journalling, general spiritual reading) but nothing with a deadline. I mean, while some courses are happily beavering away on an essay a week, MTh still have many months until we can hand ours in. Added to this, I am weak and easily swayed. So however adament I am that I'm getting down to some serious reading, the golden words "would you like to play croquet?" are all I need.
"But, why croquet?" say you. Well there's very little else to do at Cuddesdon.
Maybe I'm doing myself down, I'm sure I've done some other stuff since my last installment. Well, there was Youth Group on Thursday in which I led the craft activity. We made a poms poms, and some of the young people were quite into it, so I'm pretty pleased. Friday was Guest Night in which me and Mr A and many others pretended to be waiters and seemed to largely pull it off. And today I went to 8am BCP at St Andrews. Paul came along too and rather enjoyed it, which was great. Then we went for a coffee at the hallowed Green Cafe, and played football this afternoon.
So all in all not a bad few days. Weekends never reeeally feel like weekends, but then in the old days we did very little at weekends. And now we do lots. In general, life is good. I'm still bowled over every time I think about how fortunate I am to be here and still can't believe I'll be a deacon in two years (hopefully...!) I'm also amazed and delighted at how much Mr A is loving his course and, as far as I can see, he appears to be doing rather well at it. Hurrah!
It's the first time for years that, at this point in November, I haven't been egging Christmas on. This year, Christmas can come as slowly as it wants. I've too much to do!
Wednesday 2 November 2011
Denomination, Denomination, Denomination
Well, it's College Quiet Day and I'm not sure whether doing a Blog post is sort of breaking the rules by communicating with you all. I've decided it probably isn't because a Quiet Day is a time to reflect and that is precisely what I am doing.
So, what's happened since last we spoke? As predicted I didn't get Common Room President, the rather wonderful Josh who is marvellously charistmatic and approachable did, and quite rightly too.
The Presidential results aside, last week was pretty quiet. Everyone was tired, everyone waiting for a break at half-term. I had a lovely weekend. I managed to see all the people I planned to, had several lovely meals, was amazed at the new speaking abilities of the only child I know (Tabitha, who is almost 2) and watched 4 hours of 'Steps Reunited' with my Mum. Good stuff all round!
I went back to Stoke St Gregory Baptist Church on Sunday morning, which was very nice indeed. It's my Mum's church, which I attended up to the age of 19 and haven't been there properly since. I was pleased to see quite a lot of people there that I don't know, reassuring that in 6 years it hasn't just been the same old crowd. I'm told that the current Minister is superb with schools and families which I think is great news. Everyone was very friendly and interested in what I was getting up to.
My morning at the Baptist Church, as well as my conversations with the Baptist ministerial candidates in my MTh group at Regents Park, has led me to reflect on why I am training for ordination in the Church of England. In some ways, my coming to Anglicanism feels a bit random. My Dad is C of E but the Sunday School at the Baptist Church was always better, so that's where I went as a child. Then, via a number of free churches, I started going along to the University Chapel in my second year at University, attracted, initially at least, by the simple fact that most of my housemates went there. This journey has meant (much to the horror of many of my fellow students here!) that I was both baptised in the C of E and blessed in the Baptist Church as a baby, then baptised again in the Baptist Church aged 14 and confirmed in the C of E aged 21.
So why Anglicanism? Just because my housemates at Uni happened to go to an Anglican church? What if they'd gone to the local Baptist church?
Between you and me, I'm not particularly hung up on denomination. Were I not being ordained, I would quite happily attend - well - whatever demonination of church I lived near and seemed to feel 'right' whether it was Anglican, Baptist, URC or whatever. I've no beliefs about the Eucharist which would stop me taking it in a church of any denomination, no beliefs about the nature of priesthood that mean I wouldn't regard a Minister of any Christian denomination as equal to an Anglican Priest.
As a matter of fact, I'm not entirely sure why I'm training for ordination in the Anglican Church and not another denomination. There are many things I love about the C of E - the weight it gives to scripture/reason/tradition, its regard for the Eucharist, the variety of traditions you find under its umbrella. I'm happy to be here. And I know God is calling me to be here rather than elsewhere. But I feel my experience of other churches stands me in good stead for ecuminism. The moment we forget that Anglicanism is not the only way to be church is the moment we miss out on a lot of the richness of church experience elsewhere. There's an exciting world out there!
And, not that it follows the line of my argument, more that I feel the need to quote him wherever I can, here's John Betjamin.
But still it gives the chance to me
To praise our dear old C. of E.
So other Churches please forgive
Lines on the Church in which I live,
The Church of England of my birth,
The kindest Church to me on earth.
There may be those who like things fully
Argued out, and call you “woolly”;
Ignoring Creeds and Catechism
They say the C. of E.’s “in schism”.
There may be those who much resent
Priest, Liturgy, and Sacrament, Whose worship is what they call “free”,
Well, let them be so, but for me
There’s refuge in the C. of E.
(From Septuagessima)
So, what's happened since last we spoke? As predicted I didn't get Common Room President, the rather wonderful Josh who is marvellously charistmatic and approachable did, and quite rightly too.
The Presidential results aside, last week was pretty quiet. Everyone was tired, everyone waiting for a break at half-term. I had a lovely weekend. I managed to see all the people I planned to, had several lovely meals, was amazed at the new speaking abilities of the only child I know (Tabitha, who is almost 2) and watched 4 hours of 'Steps Reunited' with my Mum. Good stuff all round!
I went back to Stoke St Gregory Baptist Church on Sunday morning, which was very nice indeed. It's my Mum's church, which I attended up to the age of 19 and haven't been there properly since. I was pleased to see quite a lot of people there that I don't know, reassuring that in 6 years it hasn't just been the same old crowd. I'm told that the current Minister is superb with schools and families which I think is great news. Everyone was very friendly and interested in what I was getting up to.
My morning at the Baptist Church, as well as my conversations with the Baptist ministerial candidates in my MTh group at Regents Park, has led me to reflect on why I am training for ordination in the Church of England. In some ways, my coming to Anglicanism feels a bit random. My Dad is C of E but the Sunday School at the Baptist Church was always better, so that's where I went as a child. Then, via a number of free churches, I started going along to the University Chapel in my second year at University, attracted, initially at least, by the simple fact that most of my housemates went there. This journey has meant (much to the horror of many of my fellow students here!) that I was both baptised in the C of E and blessed in the Baptist Church as a baby, then baptised again in the Baptist Church aged 14 and confirmed in the C of E aged 21.
So why Anglicanism? Just because my housemates at Uni happened to go to an Anglican church? What if they'd gone to the local Baptist church?
Between you and me, I'm not particularly hung up on denomination. Were I not being ordained, I would quite happily attend - well - whatever demonination of church I lived near and seemed to feel 'right' whether it was Anglican, Baptist, URC or whatever. I've no beliefs about the Eucharist which would stop me taking it in a church of any denomination, no beliefs about the nature of priesthood that mean I wouldn't regard a Minister of any Christian denomination as equal to an Anglican Priest.
As a matter of fact, I'm not entirely sure why I'm training for ordination in the Anglican Church and not another denomination. There are many things I love about the C of E - the weight it gives to scripture/reason/tradition, its regard for the Eucharist, the variety of traditions you find under its umbrella. I'm happy to be here. And I know God is calling me to be here rather than elsewhere. But I feel my experience of other churches stands me in good stead for ecuminism. The moment we forget that Anglicanism is not the only way to be church is the moment we miss out on a lot of the richness of church experience elsewhere. There's an exciting world out there!
And, not that it follows the line of my argument, more that I feel the need to quote him wherever I can, here's John Betjamin.
But still it gives the chance to me
To praise our dear old C. of E.
So other Churches please forgive
Lines on the Church in which I live,
The Church of England of my birth,
The kindest Church to me on earth.
There may be those who like things fully
Argued out, and call you “woolly”;
Ignoring Creeds and Catechism
They say the C. of E.’s “in schism”.
There may be those who much resent
Priest, Liturgy, and Sacrament, Whose worship is what they call “free”,
Well, let them be so, but for me
There’s refuge in the C. of E.
(From Septuagessima)
Tuesday 25 October 2011
Moulding
Well, time seems to pass at an extraordinary rate. As I read over my last Blog post I notice how much has happened since (and also the number of misplaced apostrophes, and I as someone who likes to point them out on signs find this disgusting).
Everyone is remarkably tired at the moment. The mechaical movement of spoon-to-mouth at breakfast is becoming slower, eyelids drooping and at least one student falling asleep on the Common Room sofas (and did I see someone nod off briefly in a lecture too?)
Good job half term weekend is on its way. If you can call it that. College closes down from 4pm Thursday to 4pm Monday. No meals or services, free reign to go offsite and visit loved ones. EXCEPT if you happen to have Oxford lectures over that time, as the University don't have a half term, and us poor MThs have a seminar on Friday morning. Woe is us.
Still, we'll have the chance to hop over to the Westcountry at least for a few days. All being well, we're going for dinner with Tristan and Andrew on Friday, brunch with Lizzie, Tom and Sazzle on Saturday morning, Emma, Emily and Tabitha on Saturday afternoon, my family on Sunday and Paul's on Monday. By happy coincidence my Mum's birthday falls on Saturday so it's all worked out rather well.
I went to Cutteslowe on Thursday night and genuinely enjoyed myself. I'm not sure what I was expecting, but what I got was a group of vibrant, chatty, interesting young teenagers. We spent the evening playing with clay, hence the title of this post, making our favourite football teams, pop stars etc. and trying to guess what others had made. Yes, the artist N Dubz did come up and, yes, they wowed at my lack of knowledge of popular culture, but as it transpired that they knew not of N Sync I considered it stale mate. Touché, children!
In other news (because, looking back at my previous Blog posts, I simply have to start a paragraph in this way) I've decided to stand for Common Room President. Yes, I know, I know, it's not exactly the role you'd see me in. But I realised that, actually, I quite like organising things. And I'd really like to be instrumental in the way the college is run. And I've spent so much of my life watching other people do these things. So, why not?
Still, the three others going for it are all rather super gentlemen, I'd put some fairly long odds on me winning. Voting is today, by the way. And I'll find out the results tonight. I'd be genuinely astonished if I won, but I'm actually proud of myself for going for it, if that doesn't sound too cheesy.
*Finish, Hannah, finish the post before it really does sound too cheesy!*
Everyone is remarkably tired at the moment. The mechaical movement of spoon-to-mouth at breakfast is becoming slower, eyelids drooping and at least one student falling asleep on the Common Room sofas (and did I see someone nod off briefly in a lecture too?)
Good job half term weekend is on its way. If you can call it that. College closes down from 4pm Thursday to 4pm Monday. No meals or services, free reign to go offsite and visit loved ones. EXCEPT if you happen to have Oxford lectures over that time, as the University don't have a half term, and us poor MThs have a seminar on Friday morning. Woe is us.
Still, we'll have the chance to hop over to the Westcountry at least for a few days. All being well, we're going for dinner with Tristan and Andrew on Friday, brunch with Lizzie, Tom and Sazzle on Saturday morning, Emma, Emily and Tabitha on Saturday afternoon, my family on Sunday and Paul's on Monday. By happy coincidence my Mum's birthday falls on Saturday so it's all worked out rather well.
I went to Cutteslowe on Thursday night and genuinely enjoyed myself. I'm not sure what I was expecting, but what I got was a group of vibrant, chatty, interesting young teenagers. We spent the evening playing with clay, hence the title of this post, making our favourite football teams, pop stars etc. and trying to guess what others had made. Yes, the artist N Dubz did come up and, yes, they wowed at my lack of knowledge of popular culture, but as it transpired that they knew not of N Sync I considered it stale mate. Touché, children! In other news (because, looking back at my previous Blog posts, I simply have to start a paragraph in this way) I've decided to stand for Common Room President. Yes, I know, I know, it's not exactly the role you'd see me in. But I realised that, actually, I quite like organising things. And I'd really like to be instrumental in the way the college is run. And I've spent so much of my life watching other people do these things. So, why not?
Still, the three others going for it are all rather super gentlemen, I'd put some fairly long odds on me winning. Voting is today, by the way. And I'll find out the results tonight. I'd be genuinely astonished if I won, but I'm actually proud of myself for going for it, if that doesn't sound too cheesy.
*Finish, Hannah, finish the post before it really does sound too cheesy!*
Sunday 16 October 2011
Up and Down the Candle
I've learnt a new phrase. "Up the candle." A jovial way of asking what your churchmanship is, "how far up the candle are you?"
It strikes me that people at Cuddesdon sit all over the candle. If 1 is flags and 10 is birettas, there's a big clump of ordinands around 5 to 7 (middle church, liturgical, liberal) and another around the 8 and 9 (high church, modern catholic) but still a respectable number sub 5. With the numbers not in any way reflecting any sort of hierarchy, of course.
If you were to map the church's I've attended regularly for a significant amount of time (6 months plus) I think it would look something like this; 4-3-2-7-6. And since moving to Oxford I've attended, and enjoyed, St Mary Magdalen (a solid 9). So I've had experience with most types of church, even if some experiences aren't particularly recent.
I'd tentatively assess St Andrews, from my experience this morning, at around 3. Although, saying that, they have 4 services a day. 8am BCP, 9.30am family worship (the one we went to), 11.15am Eucharist (more liturgical, I'm told) and an evening service which is on the lively end. Is this, I am asking myself, a church which sets out to appeal to people of all kinds of churchmanships? We shall see!
I enjoyed this morning. Very different to the Cuddesdon services I've become accustomed to over these last 3 weeks, but I think I'll grow to appreciate the contrast. Certainly, the people were very friendly, and that bodes well for a positive 2 terms of learning and growing.
Yesterday, I matriculated! Yup, sounds like being put through a mangle, but it was actually quite nice. Dress up in silly clothes, stand in a queue outside the Sheldonian for half an hour, enter the Sheldonian for 15 minutes, hear some Latin and some English, go to the pub. Bish, bash, bosh, I'm a fully matriculated Oxford postgrad. Who'd have thought? Of course, I don't have my student card yet, because my application hasn't been fully processed, but hey ho...!
The MTh is somewhat fulfilling it's reputation as the lazy person's course. While the BA's and BTh's are writing 2,000 words a week, our first essay is due in Easter. And it's only 7,000 words. Now you'd have thought that would mean I've got lots of time on my hands, but somehow the formational side of training seems to be taking rather a lot of time and effort. Mission and Ministry, Pastoral Studies, Spirituality, Theological Reflection, Listening, Liturgy, Introduction to Worship... All separate modules, all requiring pre-reading.
Talking of, I've some reading to do for Mission and Ministry tomorrow. So long!
It strikes me that people at Cuddesdon sit all over the candle. If 1 is flags and 10 is birettas, there's a big clump of ordinands around 5 to 7 (middle church, liturgical, liberal) and another around the 8 and 9 (high church, modern catholic) but still a respectable number sub 5. With the numbers not in any way reflecting any sort of hierarchy, of course.
If you were to map the church's I've attended regularly for a significant amount of time (6 months plus) I think it would look something like this; 4-3-2-7-6. And since moving to Oxford I've attended, and enjoyed, St Mary Magdalen (a solid 9). So I've had experience with most types of church, even if some experiences aren't particularly recent.
I'd tentatively assess St Andrews, from my experience this morning, at around 3. Although, saying that, they have 4 services a day. 8am BCP, 9.30am family worship (the one we went to), 11.15am Eucharist (more liturgical, I'm told) and an evening service which is on the lively end. Is this, I am asking myself, a church which sets out to appeal to people of all kinds of churchmanships? We shall see!
I enjoyed this morning. Very different to the Cuddesdon services I've become accustomed to over these last 3 weeks, but I think I'll grow to appreciate the contrast. Certainly, the people were very friendly, and that bodes well for a positive 2 terms of learning and growing.
Yesterday, I matriculated! Yup, sounds like being put through a mangle, but it was actually quite nice. Dress up in silly clothes, stand in a queue outside the Sheldonian for half an hour, enter the Sheldonian for 15 minutes, hear some Latin and some English, go to the pub. Bish, bash, bosh, I'm a fully matriculated Oxford postgrad. Who'd have thought? Of course, I don't have my student card yet, because my application hasn't been fully processed, but hey ho...! The MTh is somewhat fulfilling it's reputation as the lazy person's course. While the BA's and BTh's are writing 2,000 words a week, our first essay is due in Easter. And it's only 7,000 words. Now you'd have thought that would mean I've got lots of time on my hands, but somehow the formational side of training seems to be taking rather a lot of time and effort. Mission and Ministry, Pastoral Studies, Spirituality, Theological Reflection, Listening, Liturgy, Introduction to Worship... All separate modules, all requiring pre-reading.
Talking of, I've some reading to do for Mission and Ministry tomorrow. So long!
Saturday 8 October 2011
It's all Greek to me
In a week in which I've spent 8-and-a-half hours in church, rung a bell while wearing a cassock, parted with £40 of my hard-earned cash to purchase a bizarre outfit known as subfusc and eaten a kipper for breakfast for the first time ever, it's hard to know where to start...
Placement. Yes. I'll start with that.
I'm feeling both delighted and terrified, as I've got exactly what I asked for. You may remember me musing back in May that a large evangelical church on a Sunday and some form of Youth Group mid-week would provide me with a lot of learning opportunities. And so I have been instructed, for the next two terms, to attend St Andrews Church, North Oxford - http://www.standrewsoxford.org/ - which, from its website at least, looks pretty vibrant. For the mid-week element I'll be involved in its outreach to Youth in the neighbouring parish of Cuttislowe - the video on their website says a bit more about what they are doing in this area of the city, and is worth a watch.
I think the Cuttislowe project will be an immense learning curve, but I'm really looking forward to getting stuck in. Certainly, looking at the video, these young people's lives would seem to be a world away from my life here at college, living in a nice flat, eating free food and going to Oxford University. I'm getting comfortable in the friendly larkiness of Holy Hogwarts, and I have a funny feeling this is just the placement I need. These people have a lot to teach me.
In other news, I somehow found myself drawn to attend INTENSIVE GREEK on Thursday. Yes, it deserved capitals. The BA students have to do it, they are examined on it, but as an MTh I have no requirement to do Greek at all. However, as I managed to skillfully duck it in my first degree I thought it would be useful to sit in on the lectures, just to get some basic knowledge of the language in which the New Testament is written. I've only been to one session, but I really enjoyed it. It's a nice change from normal lectures, gets my brain thinking in a different way. And I actually shrieked in delight tonight at the kitchen table when I managed to write out the whole Greek alphabet correctly from memory.
It's been an incredibly intense week. It's taken all my energy to work out where I'm supposed to be and when! I've been into Oxford three times for different MTh inductions and it's been pretty tiring. Lots of information, new people. But it was nice to meet the people I'll be studying alongside in the MTh group - a healthy mix of Anglicans, Catholics and Baptists. I'm looking forward to some good discussions.
But thank goodness it's the weekend. Today we drove up to Leamington to have lunch with Ellie, which was lovely, and then came back here to do not-very-much all evening. From now on, Saturday is going to be my only completely free day. Hurrah for Saturday.
Placement. Yes. I'll start with that.
I'm feeling both delighted and terrified, as I've got exactly what I asked for. You may remember me musing back in May that a large evangelical church on a Sunday and some form of Youth Group mid-week would provide me with a lot of learning opportunities. And so I have been instructed, for the next two terms, to attend St Andrews Church, North Oxford - http://www.standrewsoxford.org/ - which, from its website at least, looks pretty vibrant. For the mid-week element I'll be involved in its outreach to Youth in the neighbouring parish of Cuttislowe - the video on their website says a bit more about what they are doing in this area of the city, and is worth a watch.
I think the Cuttislowe project will be an immense learning curve, but I'm really looking forward to getting stuck in. Certainly, looking at the video, these young people's lives would seem to be a world away from my life here at college, living in a nice flat, eating free food and going to Oxford University. I'm getting comfortable in the friendly larkiness of Holy Hogwarts, and I have a funny feeling this is just the placement I need. These people have a lot to teach me.
In other news, I somehow found myself drawn to attend INTENSIVE GREEK on Thursday. Yes, it deserved capitals. The BA students have to do it, they are examined on it, but as an MTh I have no requirement to do Greek at all. However, as I managed to skillfully duck it in my first degree I thought it would be useful to sit in on the lectures, just to get some basic knowledge of the language in which the New Testament is written. I've only been to one session, but I really enjoyed it. It's a nice change from normal lectures, gets my brain thinking in a different way. And I actually shrieked in delight tonight at the kitchen table when I managed to write out the whole Greek alphabet correctly from memory.
It's been an incredibly intense week. It's taken all my energy to work out where I'm supposed to be and when! I've been into Oxford three times for different MTh inductions and it's been pretty tiring. Lots of information, new people. But it was nice to meet the people I'll be studying alongside in the MTh group - a healthy mix of Anglicans, Catholics and Baptists. I'm looking forward to some good discussions.
But thank goodness it's the weekend. Today we drove up to Leamington to have lunch with Ellie, which was lovely, and then came back here to do not-very-much all evening. From now on, Saturday is going to be my only completely free day. Hurrah for Saturday.
Friday 30 September 2011
Walking on Sunshine
I've been at college for over a week, and it's hard to condense how I feel other than to say that I feel just about the most privileged person in the world at the moment.
I'm living in this small, odd community of people of all ages and from all backgrounds. I get to spend my time in a stunning old building of stone and stained glass, set in the middle of the countryside. There are clubs and activities ranging from choir to cricket to books and debating. I get fed amazing food in a dining hall with long tables and oil paintings on such a regular basis and in such quantities that it would make Dr Gillian McKeath sick. I'm learning church history and liturgy, listening skills and pastoral psychology. I'm getting some proper time to reflect on my own spirituality. Someone is paying for me to do an Oxford University Masters for goodness sake. And attending church twice a day (or four times, if you want!) isn't something you do on top of your everyday life, everything stops for it.
Extraordinarily. Privileged.
Someone described it as 'boarding school without the bullying' and I can just see what they mean. I sense a slightly boarding school undertone here, as one might expect with a number of recent graduates from good Universities. And many people seem to enjoy dressing up, as last night's 'cassocks and canopes' showed (and I have to admit, I enjoyed it too.) But that Oxfordyness doesn't define the community, as I fear it might if we were in Oxford proper. It is contained and tempered by the people who really aren't interested in that sort of thing. The whole community is very friendly. You can sit next to anyone at dinner and have a good conversation. I'm sure that the usual friendship groups will emerge, as they do in any community, but I don't think they will be as cliquey as you would find in most Universities or workplaces.
Reflecting on what it is to live here, I can't help think about the old Residential vs Local Course debate that I was having with myself 18 months ago. Basically, there are two ways of training to be a vicar. The traditional method is what I am doing, moving away to a self-contained college to train full time for 2 or 3 years. The second is to train locally part-time. This is what I was intending to do originally, to keep my house and my job, and to go to the University (but a 10 minute drive from my house!) one evening a week, and a few weekends a year, for training which, I think, generally takes 3 or 4 years.
I know there are certain schools of thought which believe one method to be a better way of training than another, but my view is that they are equally valid. The advantage of the first is that you are able to absorb yourself in training for a short amount of time, which forms a clear break between being lay and being ordained. The biggest advantage of the latter is that you are training to be a priest while being in the real world.
So what I've been reflecting on is how I maintain the real world perspective when most of my day-to-day conversations will be with people-who-are-training-to-be-vicars or spouses-of-people-who-are-training-to-be-vicars or people-that-are-actually-already-vicars.
Placements will help. I wrote a little while ago that I am to do a Sunday church placement and a midweek non-church placement in my first year. Yesterday, we new intake of students went to see three of the forty or so churches which are offering placements. Blackbird Leys - a local ecumenical partnership in a suburb of Oxford, Berinsfield - a village with a number of employment and housing problems, and Dorchester Abbey - a beautiful former-abbey with significant tourist footfall.
I've been thinking for a while that I'd like to go to a very evangelical church, in order to get a contrast from the liberal middle-church I have become accustomed to over the last few years. This continues to be my preference, but I've come to think that I will benefit from being a part of any church community. Just to spend time in a different environment, with people with lives, jobs and priorities outside of church, will be immensely beneficial to me.
And now, to voice class!
I'm living in this small, odd community of people of all ages and from all backgrounds. I get to spend my time in a stunning old building of stone and stained glass, set in the middle of the countryside. There are clubs and activities ranging from choir to cricket to books and debating. I get fed amazing food in a dining hall with long tables and oil paintings on such a regular basis and in such quantities that it would make Dr Gillian McKeath sick. I'm learning church history and liturgy, listening skills and pastoral psychology. I'm getting some proper time to reflect on my own spirituality. Someone is paying for me to do an Oxford University Masters for goodness sake. And attending church twice a day (or four times, if you want!) isn't something you do on top of your everyday life, everything stops for it.
Extraordinarily. Privileged.
Someone described it as 'boarding school without the bullying' and I can just see what they mean. I sense a slightly boarding school undertone here, as one might expect with a number of recent graduates from good Universities. And many people seem to enjoy dressing up, as last night's 'cassocks and canopes' showed (and I have to admit, I enjoyed it too.) But that Oxfordyness doesn't define the community, as I fear it might if we were in Oxford proper. It is contained and tempered by the people who really aren't interested in that sort of thing. The whole community is very friendly. You can sit next to anyone at dinner and have a good conversation. I'm sure that the usual friendship groups will emerge, as they do in any community, but I don't think they will be as cliquey as you would find in most Universities or workplaces.
Reflecting on what it is to live here, I can't help think about the old Residential vs Local Course debate that I was having with myself 18 months ago. Basically, there are two ways of training to be a vicar. The traditional method is what I am doing, moving away to a self-contained college to train full time for 2 or 3 years. The second is to train locally part-time. This is what I was intending to do originally, to keep my house and my job, and to go to the University (but a 10 minute drive from my house!) one evening a week, and a few weekends a year, for training which, I think, generally takes 3 or 4 years.
I know there are certain schools of thought which believe one method to be a better way of training than another, but my view is that they are equally valid. The advantage of the first is that you are able to absorb yourself in training for a short amount of time, which forms a clear break between being lay and being ordained. The biggest advantage of the latter is that you are training to be a priest while being in the real world.
So what I've been reflecting on is how I maintain the real world perspective when most of my day-to-day conversations will be with people-who-are-training-to-be-vicars or spouses-of-people-who-are-training-to-be-vicars or people-that-are-actually-already-vicars.
Placements will help. I wrote a little while ago that I am to do a Sunday church placement and a midweek non-church placement in my first year. Yesterday, we new intake of students went to see three of the forty or so churches which are offering placements. Blackbird Leys - a local ecumenical partnership in a suburb of Oxford, Berinsfield - a village with a number of employment and housing problems, and Dorchester Abbey - a beautiful former-abbey with significant tourist footfall.
I've been thinking for a while that I'd like to go to a very evangelical church, in order to get a contrast from the liberal middle-church I have become accustomed to over the last few years. This continues to be my preference, but I've come to think that I will benefit from being a part of any church community. Just to spend time in a different environment, with people with lives, jobs and priorities outside of church, will be immensely beneficial to me.
And now, to voice class!
Sunday 25 September 2011
At Holy Hogwarts
So, I'm here. It's started! Nearly 62 hours have passed since the long-awaited Thursday-22nd-September-at-3.30pm and I'm still alive!
On Thursday we gathered in the Common Room at 3.30pm as per the plan. It was a very shoulder-to-shoulder affair, 38 students starting this year along with spouses and children, and several continuing students and their families. And the Common Room really isn't that big.
After drinks, we went to the Parish Church for a music practice. Slightly bizarre, they admitted, but it's just to get us used to singing the responses in the service. This was followed by a service itself (hurrah!) In which the Principal preached and the Vice-Principal presided.
Then - food! Brilliant! This is what I was looking forward to (the service and meeting people too of course, but I do like my food...!) It was a buffet like you have never seen before. Not like some buffets, which repeat themselves (oh, here's another bowl of green salad...) but one that went on and on and on with a hundred different dishes. And then - pudding. A selection of puddings! This will not be good for my weight...!
After the buffet, more drinks in the Common Room, then I went to bed pretty early. Amazingly, even starting at 3.30pm, all the meeting (and eating) had really taken in out of me.
And I needed an early night. The next day, Friday, I was up at the chapel at 7.30am!!!! for Morning Prayer. Which would turn out to be the first of four church services of the day (Morning Prayer, Eucharist, Evening Prayer and Compline - luckily or unluckily, depending how you see it, only two of them are compulsory.) Friday was really interesting. The morning sessions were about the history of the college and practicalities of college life, and the afternoon sessions were about the social side of things. A bit of being bombarded with information, but all interesting stuff.
Yesterday was a rest day, and I needed it. We went to a drinks thing in the gardens of the college for an hour in the middle of the day (yes... more drinks... I know!) but there were no services to go to, and we didn't eat any meals in the college (although, amazingly, we could if we had wanted to!) I managed to speak to the Principal at the drinks thing, who confirmed that the MTh signing-up thing is all sorted now, so that's a real relief.
This morning we had a welcome service at the Parish Church followed by a drinks reception and a buffet lunch, now Paul is asleep on the sofa and I am typing this. Oh, and we had our photos taken for the Common Room wall. I am grinning inanely in ours.
So things are going OK so far. If I'm honest, I'm not a fan of the mix-and-mingle sort of social events. The ones where you move around the room with a glass of wine, making eye contact, asking the three standard questions "so, where do you come from? Where are you living here? What course are you doing?" I think I'm getting better at those sort of occasions, but I don't think they're particularly good for getting to know people, names and details blur into one! I think it's when you really start doing things together, learning alongside one another, that you really start to gel. Apparently there are 6 other people doing the MTh, although bizarrely I've only met 4 of them, and I'm sure I've met everyone! They all seem really nice. In fact, everyone seems lovely. I think it's going to be a good couple of years.
Weirdly, Paul, who hates big groups of people he doesn't know, seems to have been largely OK with all this. He fears these sorts of events, and then when he gets to them he's fine. He always seems to find someone he has a common interest with, and goes off chatting like mad. He's playing cricket tomorrow, 1st years vs 2nd/3rd years. I think he'll really enjoy it.
I don't know what we'll do this afternoon. Chill out probably. 7.30am again tomorrow. And every weekday. For ever and ever and ever........
On Thursday we gathered in the Common Room at 3.30pm as per the plan. It was a very shoulder-to-shoulder affair, 38 students starting this year along with spouses and children, and several continuing students and their families. And the Common Room really isn't that big.
After drinks, we went to the Parish Church for a music practice. Slightly bizarre, they admitted, but it's just to get us used to singing the responses in the service. This was followed by a service itself (hurrah!) In which the Principal preached and the Vice-Principal presided.
Then - food! Brilliant! This is what I was looking forward to (the service and meeting people too of course, but I do like my food...!) It was a buffet like you have never seen before. Not like some buffets, which repeat themselves (oh, here's another bowl of green salad...) but one that went on and on and on with a hundred different dishes. And then - pudding. A selection of puddings! This will not be good for my weight...!
After the buffet, more drinks in the Common Room, then I went to bed pretty early. Amazingly, even starting at 3.30pm, all the meeting (and eating) had really taken in out of me.
And I needed an early night. The next day, Friday, I was up at the chapel at 7.30am!!!! for Morning Prayer. Which would turn out to be the first of four church services of the day (Morning Prayer, Eucharist, Evening Prayer and Compline - luckily or unluckily, depending how you see it, only two of them are compulsory.) Friday was really interesting. The morning sessions were about the history of the college and practicalities of college life, and the afternoon sessions were about the social side of things. A bit of being bombarded with information, but all interesting stuff.
Yesterday was a rest day, and I needed it. We went to a drinks thing in the gardens of the college for an hour in the middle of the day (yes... more drinks... I know!) but there were no services to go to, and we didn't eat any meals in the college (although, amazingly, we could if we had wanted to!) I managed to speak to the Principal at the drinks thing, who confirmed that the MTh signing-up thing is all sorted now, so that's a real relief.
This morning we had a welcome service at the Parish Church followed by a drinks reception and a buffet lunch, now Paul is asleep on the sofa and I am typing this. Oh, and we had our photos taken for the Common Room wall. I am grinning inanely in ours.
So things are going OK so far. If I'm honest, I'm not a fan of the mix-and-mingle sort of social events. The ones where you move around the room with a glass of wine, making eye contact, asking the three standard questions "so, where do you come from? Where are you living here? What course are you doing?" I think I'm getting better at those sort of occasions, but I don't think they're particularly good for getting to know people, names and details blur into one! I think it's when you really start doing things together, learning alongside one another, that you really start to gel. Apparently there are 6 other people doing the MTh, although bizarrely I've only met 4 of them, and I'm sure I've met everyone! They all seem really nice. In fact, everyone seems lovely. I think it's going to be a good couple of years.
Weirdly, Paul, who hates big groups of people he doesn't know, seems to have been largely OK with all this. He fears these sorts of events, and then when he gets to them he's fine. He always seems to find someone he has a common interest with, and goes off chatting like mad. He's playing cricket tomorrow, 1st years vs 2nd/3rd years. I think he'll really enjoy it.
I don't know what we'll do this afternoon. Chill out probably. 7.30am again tomorrow. And every weekday. For ever and ever and ever........
Wednesday 21 September 2011
It's the Final Countdown!
Duh-duh-duh-duhhhhh! Duh-duh-duh-duh-duhhhh! Duh-duh-duh-duhhhhh! (The final Count-down...) Duh-duh-duh etc.
Oh, I am in a good mood!
Paul is now into the second week of his course and it seems to be going well. He's only in 9am-3pm 3 days a week, so he'll have plenty of time to be involved here at the college as well. He brought home some Maths homework last night and I tried to give him a hand with it, before realising that I can't do long multiplication and division myself! Thank goodness I got a B in Maths when I did, as any proficiency in the subject appears to have drained out of me over the last 10 years!
As one thing goes to plan, another doesn't. One of the administrators from Cuddesdon phoned me on Thursday to say that they had forgotten to sign me up to Oxford University. The Principal here had been in touch with the Director of Faculty for Theology who said they would consider my application if I did it really, really quickly. So I made an application to the University over the weekend. A speedy application which involved having to persuade 3 people to do my references, speedily! I don't tend to let these things get to me, ke sara sara etc. and I've a feeling that I won't be penalised for something that wasn't my error, but we'll see.
Today's been an interesting day full of good things and bad things. More good things than bad things I'd say.
GOOD THING! Spent a few hours with Kate in which we managed to consume 3 cups of tea each.
BAD THING! College emailed to say that Paul's Theology course is now no longer free but will cost £100 per term.
GOOD THING! Finally got common room keys so I can get into the main college building!
BAD THING! Dougal got chased by a dog.
GOOD THING! Some pictures for the wall have arrived in the post and look beautiful.
BAD THING! Oxford Uni emailed to say they are still waiting for one reference and want it quickly.
So there you go.
Tomorrow it is then. Tomorrow IS the 22nd September.
Life will never be the same again....
Oh, I am in a good mood!
Paul is now into the second week of his course and it seems to be going well. He's only in 9am-3pm 3 days a week, so he'll have plenty of time to be involved here at the college as well. He brought home some Maths homework last night and I tried to give him a hand with it, before realising that I can't do long multiplication and division myself! Thank goodness I got a B in Maths when I did, as any proficiency in the subject appears to have drained out of me over the last 10 years!
As one thing goes to plan, another doesn't. One of the administrators from Cuddesdon phoned me on Thursday to say that they had forgotten to sign me up to Oxford University. The Principal here had been in touch with the Director of Faculty for Theology who said they would consider my application if I did it really, really quickly. So I made an application to the University over the weekend. A speedy application which involved having to persuade 3 people to do my references, speedily! I don't tend to let these things get to me, ke sara sara etc. and I've a feeling that I won't be penalised for something that wasn't my error, but we'll see.
Today's been an interesting day full of good things and bad things. More good things than bad things I'd say.
GOOD THING! Spent a few hours with Kate in which we managed to consume 3 cups of tea each.
BAD THING! College emailed to say that Paul's Theology course is now no longer free but will cost £100 per term.
GOOD THING! Finally got common room keys so I can get into the main college building!
BAD THING! Dougal got chased by a dog.
GOOD THING! Some pictures for the wall have arrived in the post and look beautiful.
BAD THING! Oxford Uni emailed to say they are still waiting for one reference and want it quickly.
So there you go.
Tomorrow it is then. Tomorrow IS the 22nd September.
Life will never be the same again....
Friday 9 September 2011
T minus 2 weeks
So, I'm within a fortnight of launching into term and so far I have 28 ordinands, 24 partners and 34 children on my list of people I have met. There are lots of crossings-out as I change names and assign people to different partners because I couldn't quite work out who-was-with-who the first time I met them. Quite how the list will look when all 70-ish ordinands are here I do not know!
There's a feeling of excitement in the air. Paul starts his course on Wednesday with me starting a week on Thursday. And when my course starts it's not just the course I'll have to occupy me, it'll be 7.30am morning prayer, breakfast, lunch and dinner in college, evening prayer and compline and all manner of community activities. Although I've been living here a month somehow I feel like I'm not at college yet, and really I'm not.
I wonder whether the 22nd September will mark 'it'? You know, when I started thinking seriously about this whole ordination malarky in April 2010 I remember wondering how I would cope with all of the waiting for 'it'. And what was I waiting for? The BAP? I certainly didn't have a feeling of having reached my goal after the BAP. Finishing my job? No. Moving here? No, somehow not. So maybe when term starts I'll have that feeling of "hurrah - I've started Theological College - this is what I've been thinking and praying about for the last 17 months!" Or maybe I won't. Maybe that's what the call to ordained ministry is, a moving forward towards something, to go wherever God intends for you, but without that victory moment of sticking your flag on the moon "I've done it", a call to be rather than to achieve.
*Gets down from philosophising perch*
So, what have I done this week? On Monday we went into Oxford intending to go to the Ashmolean but it was closed so we had lunch instead. Then Kate texted me in the evening to see if I wanted to go to the pub so I rambled over to find 20 or so Cuddesdonians there, which was very nice indeed. On Tuesday we didn't do much, but then on Wednesday we went to the Oxford Natural History Museum and the Pitt Rivers Collection which was ever so interesting. A properly well thought out museum with artifacts from around the world, and displays you could touch as well as those in glass cabinets. Yesterday we walked to Wheatley and back which is a 3 mile round trip so a good leg-stretcher, and today we went swimming. Altogether a very enjoyable week.
Oh, we got some good news today. Paul has been intending to do the Cuddesdon School of Theology and Ministry, the evening course which runs here on a Thursday. It normally costs £200 per term so we had budgeted £1,800 for him to do it for 3 years, which is no small amount of money any way you look at it. Anyway, today all the spouses got a letter from the college to say that this course was going to be offered to spouses of college students free!
Free I like. Very much.
There's a feeling of excitement in the air. Paul starts his course on Wednesday with me starting a week on Thursday. And when my course starts it's not just the course I'll have to occupy me, it'll be 7.30am morning prayer, breakfast, lunch and dinner in college, evening prayer and compline and all manner of community activities. Although I've been living here a month somehow I feel like I'm not at college yet, and really I'm not.
I wonder whether the 22nd September will mark 'it'? You know, when I started thinking seriously about this whole ordination malarky in April 2010 I remember wondering how I would cope with all of the waiting for 'it'. And what was I waiting for? The BAP? I certainly didn't have a feeling of having reached my goal after the BAP. Finishing my job? No. Moving here? No, somehow not. So maybe when term starts I'll have that feeling of "hurrah - I've started Theological College - this is what I've been thinking and praying about for the last 17 months!" Or maybe I won't. Maybe that's what the call to ordained ministry is, a moving forward towards something, to go wherever God intends for you, but without that victory moment of sticking your flag on the moon "I've done it", a call to be rather than to achieve.
*Gets down from philosophising perch*
So, what have I done this week? On Monday we went into Oxford intending to go to the Ashmolean but it was closed so we had lunch instead. Then Kate texted me in the evening to see if I wanted to go to the pub so I rambled over to find 20 or so Cuddesdonians there, which was very nice indeed. On Tuesday we didn't do much, but then on Wednesday we went to the Oxford Natural History Museum and the Pitt Rivers Collection which was ever so interesting. A properly well thought out museum with artifacts from around the world, and displays you could touch as well as those in glass cabinets. Yesterday we walked to Wheatley and back which is a 3 mile round trip so a good leg-stretcher, and today we went swimming. Altogether a very enjoyable week.
Oh, we got some good news today. Paul has been intending to do the Cuddesdon School of Theology and Ministry, the evening course which runs here on a Thursday. It normally costs £200 per term so we had budgeted £1,800 for him to do it for 3 years, which is no small amount of money any way you look at it. Anyway, today all the spouses got a letter from the college to say that this course was going to be offered to spouses of college students free!
Free I like. Very much.
Wednesday 31 August 2011
August Ends
Memory's a funny thing, isn't it? When I look back on my first few weeks at University I paint a pretty rosy picture. Those first few lectures. My first impressions of those people who would later become close friends. Some hijinxes in the Ram and the Imperial. I have to really take myself back there before I remember all the tears, the wanting to go home.
I think I'll look back on August 2011 in very much the same way. While there haven't been many tears it's been rather an awkward month. A month of sitting around and fidgeting, filling long summer days in a beautiful setting with not very much at all and wishing we had more money to do it in. Longing for things to start, to have a purpose for being in this wonderful place. Meeting lovely people, but not quite knowing how to get beyond the small talk. In a few weeks time when term begins and we start to eat meals in the college and get down to some studying I know we'll settle quickly, and most of this will pass. But I hope I at least remember August as it has been, if only to inform my initial discussions with next year's intake.
The bank holiday was rather a ray of sunshine. Mum and Dad had been saying for a little while that we ought to do something together, and we decided to go to Stow on the Wold. We visited Bourton on the Water for a walk on Monday and Stratford on Avon for a theatre tour yesterday. I didn't think I'd need a holiday, but somehow going away from here, if only for 48 hours, has made a difference.
So, what else have we been up to? Well, we went to the dentist at Oxford Brookes today - it's amazing how something like going to the dentist can become the centre point of your day when you're not doing anything else. Tomorrow Paul is going to Oxford and Cherwell Valley to enroll on his Diploma in Progression. Oh, and after some umm-ing and ah-ing he's also signed up to do the Cuddesdon School of Theology and Ministry which runs on a Thursday evening. We talked about it a lot and think it's a good idea for him to have some basic theological training and it's a good forum for him to address his big questions. Seriously, Paul thinks about Theology much more than I do. Christology and the Trinity, Salvation, Heaven and Hell and that sort of thing. I've told him the greatest thinkers in history have spent thousands of years not solving these things, but you just can't tell some people...!
I've abandoned my pre-reading in favour of Crime and Punishment. I've really been struggling with the pre-reading, I feel I've been reading it without an anchor, like none of my previous study has really prepared me for this sort of Theology. It's not compulsory, so I've quietly put it away, to be returned to as and when I need it. Crime and Punishment, on the other hand, is superb. It's the fourth Dostoevsky novel I've read and the first one I've actually enjoyed!
And I've been watching my Lewis box set like mad. Today a girl in a wheelchair came out of Blenheim Palace and straight into the Blenheim maze which is about half a mile away. I've a feeling Lewis is going to do nothing for my geography.
I think I'll look back on August 2011 in very much the same way. While there haven't been many tears it's been rather an awkward month. A month of sitting around and fidgeting, filling long summer days in a beautiful setting with not very much at all and wishing we had more money to do it in. Longing for things to start, to have a purpose for being in this wonderful place. Meeting lovely people, but not quite knowing how to get beyond the small talk. In a few weeks time when term begins and we start to eat meals in the college and get down to some studying I know we'll settle quickly, and most of this will pass. But I hope I at least remember August as it has been, if only to inform my initial discussions with next year's intake.
The bank holiday was rather a ray of sunshine. Mum and Dad had been saying for a little while that we ought to do something together, and we decided to go to Stow on the Wold. We visited Bourton on the Water for a walk on Monday and Stratford on Avon for a theatre tour yesterday. I didn't think I'd need a holiday, but somehow going away from here, if only for 48 hours, has made a difference.
So, what else have we been up to? Well, we went to the dentist at Oxford Brookes today - it's amazing how something like going to the dentist can become the centre point of your day when you're not doing anything else. Tomorrow Paul is going to Oxford and Cherwell Valley to enroll on his Diploma in Progression. Oh, and after some umm-ing and ah-ing he's also signed up to do the Cuddesdon School of Theology and Ministry which runs on a Thursday evening. We talked about it a lot and think it's a good idea for him to have some basic theological training and it's a good forum for him to address his big questions. Seriously, Paul thinks about Theology much more than I do. Christology and the Trinity, Salvation, Heaven and Hell and that sort of thing. I've told him the greatest thinkers in history have spent thousands of years not solving these things, but you just can't tell some people...!
I've abandoned my pre-reading in favour of Crime and Punishment. I've really been struggling with the pre-reading, I feel I've been reading it without an anchor, like none of my previous study has really prepared me for this sort of Theology. It's not compulsory, so I've quietly put it away, to be returned to as and when I need it. Crime and Punishment, on the other hand, is superb. It's the fourth Dostoevsky novel I've read and the first one I've actually enjoyed!
And I've been watching my Lewis box set like mad. Today a girl in a wheelchair came out of Blenheim Palace and straight into the Blenheim maze which is about half a mile away. I've a feeling Lewis is going to do nothing for my geography.
Friday 26 August 2011
Busy Doing Nothing
Whoa, where did that week go?
So we went to Kat and Matt's on Friday night and had a great evening. We ate lovely food, drank lovely drinks and taunted Andrew incessantly. Andrew stayed over theirs on Friday night and came over to ours on Saturday night (via a friend in Swindon, I think!) We ordered a takeaway from a very nice Indian in Horspath and drank yet more wine. It was really nice to spend some time with Andrew, Kat and Matt. I'm honoured at the amount of friends from home that have taken the time to visit us already. I know it will be important for us to maintain those valuable friendships.
I woke up on Sunday morning and my eyes felt a bit swollen - I assumed from the drinking. Paul, Andrew and I went to Cuddesdon Parish Church which turned out to be an eventful morning as the chap who was meant to be Priesting didn't turn up, so another Priest who had just come along to attend the service had to step in. This has shown me a little bit about what it must be like to be a Priest! There were a lot of new students there, and this incident actually lightened the atmosphere.
So back to my face. Over Sunday it became more and more swollen, and when I got up on Monday morning my eyelids, under eyes, cheeks and lips were swollen, red and peeling. I had wondered on Sunday whether it was an eye infection or something, but the dry skin made me realise it was the face wash I had picked up in Asda. I've never reacted to a product before and it was just horrible, itchy and painful but moreover ever so embarrassing! A combination of anti-histamine, ibuprofen, E45 and a lot of concealer have got me through the last few days. The swelling finally completely disappeared on Thursday morning!
This made me approach morning prayer on Monday with even more trepidation, but I think it went OK. Everyone's very friendly and chilled out, so even if I had made a mistake I'm sure no-one would have minded. I consulted Dad on a hymn choice and went for 'Lead me, O my Father lead me.' The bit in the first verse about crossing a tempestuous sea somehow resounded with me.
Monday and Tuesday were largely uneventful days, but Wednesday was Paul's birthday so we decided to do something special. He wanted to go to London again, so we went on the bus. I secretly booked London Eye tickets, because the last time we went which was years ago it was raining and we couldn't see anything. We got on the bus and went for a coffee, and that's when I told Paul about the Eye. We went on it at 10am. It was raining.
Afterwards, we went to the Imperial War Museum. We went to the Holocaust Exhibition, which was extremely well-presented and very moving. It certainly puts something like a slightly swollen face into perspective...
Yesterday evening we went to Kate and Lawrence's for a drink and stumbled home along the dark Cuddesdon country lanes at near midnight. It was really good fun and just being able to kick back and have a laugh and a drink with someone was just what I needed. I hope there will be many instances of stumbling back along the dark Cuddesdon country lanes to come!
So we went to Kat and Matt's on Friday night and had a great evening. We ate lovely food, drank lovely drinks and taunted Andrew incessantly. Andrew stayed over theirs on Friday night and came over to ours on Saturday night (via a friend in Swindon, I think!) We ordered a takeaway from a very nice Indian in Horspath and drank yet more wine. It was really nice to spend some time with Andrew, Kat and Matt. I'm honoured at the amount of friends from home that have taken the time to visit us already. I know it will be important for us to maintain those valuable friendships.
I woke up on Sunday morning and my eyes felt a bit swollen - I assumed from the drinking. Paul, Andrew and I went to Cuddesdon Parish Church which turned out to be an eventful morning as the chap who was meant to be Priesting didn't turn up, so another Priest who had just come along to attend the service had to step in. This has shown me a little bit about what it must be like to be a Priest! There were a lot of new students there, and this incident actually lightened the atmosphere.
So back to my face. Over Sunday it became more and more swollen, and when I got up on Monday morning my eyelids, under eyes, cheeks and lips were swollen, red and peeling. I had wondered on Sunday whether it was an eye infection or something, but the dry skin made me realise it was the face wash I had picked up in Asda. I've never reacted to a product before and it was just horrible, itchy and painful but moreover ever so embarrassing! A combination of anti-histamine, ibuprofen, E45 and a lot of concealer have got me through the last few days. The swelling finally completely disappeared on Thursday morning!
This made me approach morning prayer on Monday with even more trepidation, but I think it went OK. Everyone's very friendly and chilled out, so even if I had made a mistake I'm sure no-one would have minded. I consulted Dad on a hymn choice and went for 'Lead me, O my Father lead me.' The bit in the first verse about crossing a tempestuous sea somehow resounded with me.
Monday and Tuesday were largely uneventful days, but Wednesday was Paul's birthday so we decided to do something special. He wanted to go to London again, so we went on the bus. I secretly booked London Eye tickets, because the last time we went which was years ago it was raining and we couldn't see anything. We got on the bus and went for a coffee, and that's when I told Paul about the Eye. We went on it at 10am. It was raining.
Afterwards, we went to the Imperial War Museum. We went to the Holocaust Exhibition, which was extremely well-presented and very moving. It certainly puts something like a slightly swollen face into perspective...
Yesterday evening we went to Kate and Lawrence's for a drink and stumbled home along the dark Cuddesdon country lanes at near midnight. It was really good fun and just being able to kick back and have a laugh and a drink with someone was just what I needed. I hope there will be many instances of stumbling back along the dark Cuddesdon country lanes to come!
Friday 19 August 2011
Acquaintancing
Roll of new Acquaintances, so far
16 ordinands
10 men, 6 women
3 new, 13 continuing
And we remember the names of 14 of them.
13 spice (yes, actual word, plural of spouse.)
6 men, 7 women
And we remember the names of 9 of them.
At least 18 children
A variety of genders and ages.
At a push I think I could venture the names of 7 of them.
I know this to be the case, because I have started writing it down on a piece of A4 paper with the headings 'ordinand', 'spouse', 'children?', 'home', 'course' and 'notes.'
Yep, we are making acquaintances like there's no tomorrow. The best forum for this is morning prayer, generally because there's only 6 or 7 people every morning and you've got plenty of time to gaze at the people sitting in the pews opposite and try and work out whether you've met them before and, if so, if you remember their names and whether a cheery question such as "so, how are the kids?" is an appropriate opening gambit in post-prayer conversation.
Everyone has been extremely friendly to us. Keen to find out about us, where we've come from, where we're living now and how we're getting on in our new home. It's the feeling of a community and, although I'm only at the stage of tentative small talk at the moment, I've a feeling I'm going to make friends here.
After prayer this morning Kate, who is also a new student, invited me back to hers for a cup of tea. It's the first time I've had an opportunity to sit with someone and have a proper chat. She and her family have been here a week so are very much at the same stage as Paul and I - getting settled into their home and just starting to make connections with the wider community. It's nice to know there are others in the same boat as us.
Talking of morning prayer, in a typically Hannah-esque moment I have volunteered to lead it on Monday. The students take it in turns to lead, but so far it's just been continuing students. I decided to volunteer because I just want to get stuck in. I'll make sure to spend some time writing intercessions and choosing a hymn over the weekend. If I make a mistake I'm sure no-one will mind. I'll let you know how I get on.
Mum and Dad came to visit on Monday and Tuesday. We went to the Bat and Ball on Monday night and the Railway on Tuesday so I am feeling well-fed! And we went to Blenheim Palace on Tuesday which was ever so interesting. A picture of Mr A, Mum and Dad there is attached.
We're off to see Kat and Matt in Reading tonight which I'm really looking forward to. Actually, we've got to be there at 6pm, so I ought to head off!
16 ordinands
10 men, 6 women
3 new, 13 continuing
And we remember the names of 14 of them.
13 spice (yes, actual word, plural of spouse.)
6 men, 7 women
And we remember the names of 9 of them.
At least 18 children
A variety of genders and ages.
At a push I think I could venture the names of 7 of them.
I know this to be the case, because I have started writing it down on a piece of A4 paper with the headings 'ordinand', 'spouse', 'children?', 'home', 'course' and 'notes.'
Yep, we are making acquaintances like there's no tomorrow. The best forum for this is morning prayer, generally because there's only 6 or 7 people every morning and you've got plenty of time to gaze at the people sitting in the pews opposite and try and work out whether you've met them before and, if so, if you remember their names and whether a cheery question such as "so, how are the kids?" is an appropriate opening gambit in post-prayer conversation.
Everyone has been extremely friendly to us. Keen to find out about us, where we've come from, where we're living now and how we're getting on in our new home. It's the feeling of a community and, although I'm only at the stage of tentative small talk at the moment, I've a feeling I'm going to make friends here.
After prayer this morning Kate, who is also a new student, invited me back to hers for a cup of tea. It's the first time I've had an opportunity to sit with someone and have a proper chat. She and her family have been here a week so are very much at the same stage as Paul and I - getting settled into their home and just starting to make connections with the wider community. It's nice to know there are others in the same boat as us.
Talking of morning prayer, in a typically Hannah-esque moment I have volunteered to lead it on Monday. The students take it in turns to lead, but so far it's just been continuing students. I decided to volunteer because I just want to get stuck in. I'll make sure to spend some time writing intercessions and choosing a hymn over the weekend. If I make a mistake I'm sure no-one will mind. I'll let you know how I get on.
Mum and Dad came to visit on Monday and Tuesday. We went to the Bat and Ball on Monday night and the Railway on Tuesday so I am feeling well-fed! And we went to Blenheim Palace on Tuesday which was ever so interesting. A picture of Mr A, Mum and Dad there is attached.We're off to see Kat and Matt in Reading tonight which I'm really looking forward to. Actually, we've got to be there at 6pm, so I ought to head off!
Sunday 14 August 2011
A Bang on the Head
I am hiding under the desk looking altogether embarassed. Let me explain why.
Paul and I went to a lovely church this morning. Quite large, big congregation, liturgical worship, friendly atmosphere, good hymns. All was going well until I walked back from communion feeling happy and content. I turned left into my pew and smacked my head on some form of wooden pillar decoration. (Stop laughing!) I wasn't knocked out or anything, but it made a very loud clunk and all the people in the pews behind me gasped. Those of you who go to a traditional form of church will know that you're supposed to sit looking very contemplative and reverent when returning from communion. Not walk into things.
So I sat down and tears came to my eyes. Initially because of the shock of the bang I think, but sadly they didn't stop. And for the rest of the service I couldn't stop my watery eyes. I wasn't crying (in the sense of bawling, wailing, sniffling etc.) but I just couldn't stop the tears. Quite what the lovely people of Holy Trinity Headington throught of me I do not know, but I managed to pull off a number of brief conversations (including with the vicar) after the service in a perfectly polite and well-mannered way while wildly dabbing my eyes with tissues.
Oh dear. Well what's brought this on? It certainly wasn't the bang on the head. But neither am I feeling particularly unhappy at the moment. I think it's just being somewhat out-of-sorts, out of routine and in an unfamiliar place. It must play havoc with the subconscious. At least it's only the second most embarassing occurance of me crying in church (many of you will know the first...)
I think I will go back there next week (in disguise of course, I don't want them to think "oh, there's that girl who cries again") and of course I'll watch out for pertruding decor. Sobbing incident aside, I had a very lovely morning there. It's great that we've come across a church that we feel comfortable in so quickly. In term time I will be in placement churches, but Headington will be perfect for the holidays.
Chin up and move on then. We are British! I'm reeeeally excited about tomorrow as Mum and Dad are coming down. If they get here in time we're going for dinner in the Bat and Ball tomorrow night, then on Tuesday we're going to Blenheim Palace. Should be good!
Paul and I went to a lovely church this morning. Quite large, big congregation, liturgical worship, friendly atmosphere, good hymns. All was going well until I walked back from communion feeling happy and content. I turned left into my pew and smacked my head on some form of wooden pillar decoration. (Stop laughing!) I wasn't knocked out or anything, but it made a very loud clunk and all the people in the pews behind me gasped. Those of you who go to a traditional form of church will know that you're supposed to sit looking very contemplative and reverent when returning from communion. Not walk into things.
So I sat down and tears came to my eyes. Initially because of the shock of the bang I think, but sadly they didn't stop. And for the rest of the service I couldn't stop my watery eyes. I wasn't crying (in the sense of bawling, wailing, sniffling etc.) but I just couldn't stop the tears. Quite what the lovely people of Holy Trinity Headington throught of me I do not know, but I managed to pull off a number of brief conversations (including with the vicar) after the service in a perfectly polite and well-mannered way while wildly dabbing my eyes with tissues.
Oh dear. Well what's brought this on? It certainly wasn't the bang on the head. But neither am I feeling particularly unhappy at the moment. I think it's just being somewhat out-of-sorts, out of routine and in an unfamiliar place. It must play havoc with the subconscious. At least it's only the second most embarassing occurance of me crying in church (many of you will know the first...)
I think I will go back there next week (in disguise of course, I don't want them to think "oh, there's that girl who cries again") and of course I'll watch out for pertruding decor. Sobbing incident aside, I had a very lovely morning there. It's great that we've come across a church that we feel comfortable in so quickly. In term time I will be in placement churches, but Headington will be perfect for the holidays.
Chin up and move on then. We are British! I'm reeeeally excited about tomorrow as Mum and Dad are coming down. If they get here in time we're going for dinner in the Bat and Ball tomorrow night, then on Tuesday we're going to Blenheim Palace. Should be good!
Tuesday 9 August 2011
On the Tourist Trail
Well hello again. As I type I am sitting in my study (yes, it's got a desk and a sofa and a book case and a cassock hung on the door and a nice view out the window - evidence attached - it's definitely a study not simply an office or a room with a computer in it) reporting to you after a funny up and downish sort of few days. If I describe my movements since Friday in any sort of detail you'd probably keel over and die of the boredom so here's a snapshot of things Paul and/or I have done in the last 5 days in no particular order. You can work out who did what;
- Built a flat-packed desk
- Cooked a steak
- Bought cushions
- Spent 1 hour and 45 minutes trying to park in Oxford
- Been to an assessment interview
- Been to Morning Prayer
- Built a flat-packed wardrobe
- Hosted a visit from Sazzle
- Contemplated Turner and Constable / grumbled about Bacon in the Tate Britain
- Stood in the Commons (physical not metaphorical standing)
- Drew a picture
- Browsed Church House Bookshop
- Drunk a glass of wine in the Bat and Ball
- Met an assortment of people and can't remember any of their names
It's an odd sort of feeling being here. Now we've arrived and are unpacked we have very little to do and it's sunk in with gravity how different life is going to be. Learning a new place is tiring. When you know a place you can drive anywhere without really thinking, you know the busy roads to avoid, the shortcuts. You know the layout of your local supermarket and where to find a cash point. And meeting new people is tiring too. You don't want to put on a face, but you know you have to act your best or else they'll start off with a bad impression.
It's not all bad. We went to London today and had a superb time, the best day out we've had in ages. Paul's the happiest I've seen him since I can remember. He felt that his initial assessment at the college went really well, and he's excited about the future and about being here.
We're going to a college coffee morning tomorrow, which should help us get to know some more people. And we have a visit from Mum and Dad next week, and visiting Kat, and hopefully visiting Ellie. Good things to come.
Thursday 4 August 2011
What a Way to Make a Living!
After precisely 3 years and 3 weeks, I have left my employment at Devon County Council.
I've actually had a really nice time. More so the first 2 years than the last one, but I've really got very little to complain about the whole time I've been there. Nice people, interesting work, ok-ish pay. I know that I'll keep in touch with the friends I have made there.
These 3 years at work have mainly been important to me because I've proved to myself that I can hold down a 9-5 job with relative success. I'd been worried up until this point that I'd grown to enjoy the student lifestyle too much and I wouldn't react well to the discipline. But actually I've really enjoyed being a 'normal' person with a proper job and a proper house. Given that I will be spending much of my working life as a vicar with normal people with normal jobs, normal houses, normal overdrafts and credit card bills, it's actually been really important to have a taste of that lifestyle myself.
And now for something completely different...!
I can't keep you very long on this blog post as tomorrow at 6am (yes, 6am, we want to avoid the holiday traffic!) we are leaving for Oxford for good, and I really need to help Paul pack! Hopefully the nice BT man will come and install internet on Monday and then I'll do another blog post and let you know how I'm getting on!
My colleague wrote a poem in my leaving card which I would like to share with you. Quite how much of the taxpayers money in work time he spent on it I do not know, but here it is...
So Hannah's off, nothing could be slicker
Than training to be the UK's sexiest Vicar
As she earns the right to wear that white collar
All the heathens will shout and holler
"Let us be part of your flock
You're one hot vicar, baby you rock!"
They will all queue for your weekly session
Begging to give you their darkest confession
You'll be like catwoman in cape and a mask
A holy superhero... You've got one heck of a task
Back to Devon perhaps you'll return one day
Converting us all the Alderson way
I have such respect for your chosen path
Leaving behind the data aftermath
Small Grants and Fasbers, oh how inferior
And tears from Beryl, our Mother Superior
I hope you like this farewell rhyme
I wish you well, and have a great time
For thine is the Kingdom the Power and the Glory
For Ever and Ever... Amen Ory!!!! (well it had to rhyme!!)
Written by the very talented David Johnson.
(Make of it what you will....!)
I've actually had a really nice time. More so the first 2 years than the last one, but I've really got very little to complain about the whole time I've been there. Nice people, interesting work, ok-ish pay. I know that I'll keep in touch with the friends I have made there.
These 3 years at work have mainly been important to me because I've proved to myself that I can hold down a 9-5 job with relative success. I'd been worried up until this point that I'd grown to enjoy the student lifestyle too much and I wouldn't react well to the discipline. But actually I've really enjoyed being a 'normal' person with a proper job and a proper house. Given that I will be spending much of my working life as a vicar with normal people with normal jobs, normal houses, normal overdrafts and credit card bills, it's actually been really important to have a taste of that lifestyle myself.
And now for something completely different...!
I can't keep you very long on this blog post as tomorrow at 6am (yes, 6am, we want to avoid the holiday traffic!) we are leaving for Oxford for good, and I really need to help Paul pack! Hopefully the nice BT man will come and install internet on Monday and then I'll do another blog post and let you know how I'm getting on!
My colleague wrote a poem in my leaving card which I would like to share with you. Quite how much of the taxpayers money in work time he spent on it I do not know, but here it is...
So Hannah's off, nothing could be slicker
Than training to be the UK's sexiest Vicar
As she earns the right to wear that white collar
All the heathens will shout and holler
"Let us be part of your flock
You're one hot vicar, baby you rock!"
They will all queue for your weekly session
Begging to give you their darkest confession
You'll be like catwoman in cape and a mask
A holy superhero... You've got one heck of a task
Back to Devon perhaps you'll return one day
Converting us all the Alderson way
I have such respect for your chosen path
Leaving behind the data aftermath
Small Grants and Fasbers, oh how inferior
And tears from Beryl, our Mother Superior
I hope you like this farewell rhyme
I wish you well, and have a great time
For thine is the Kingdom the Power and the Glory
For Ever and Ever... Amen Ory!!!! (well it had to rhyme!!)
Written by the very talented David Johnson.
(Make of it what you will....!)
Sunday 31 July 2011
A Post from my Old Room
I've just woken up from a 2 hour sleep. And I never sleep in the daytime! Probably not the best of times to write a blog, but somehow I feel inclined. So much has happened since I last wrote.
The house sale completed on Friday, just as it should have done. The removal chaps turned up at 8.30 and all the contents of the house were loaded by 9.30. As we took one last walk around the place I felt curiously unemotional, but welled up when one of our neighbours caught us on the way out and gave us a good luck card. Even though we did so much of the DIY ourselves, I don't think I'm particularly attached to the bricks and mortar of our house. But I'll miss Stoke Canon a lot.
The call from the Solicitors came at 10.30. Paul took it, I was driving. The house we had bought 20 months ago with the intention to set down roots in Devon for good was no longer ours. We had stepped off the cliff and into the unknown.
And so we headed off to Oxford. The journey was fairly uneventful, we took what we needed for Friday night. To-ing and fro-ing from car to flat we met 3 other people who live in the block, and all were lovely, asked us whether we had everything we needed and if there was anything they could do. What you'd expect of trainee-vicars I suppose.
We had dinner at the Bat and Ball pub in the village which was absolutely super and for the one and only time that day it actually felt like it might just be my 25th birthday!
Yesterday, the men turned up again at 8.30. We spent the morning unpacking boxes and positioning furniture, a job we didn't manage to complete, and headed back to Somerset at midday, a journey which should have taken 2 hours 20 minutes but took almost double that due to all the holiday traffic.
This morning was our last morning at St Davids and, actually, the most emotional moment of the whole weekend. I knew it would be. St Davids has been such a wonderful place to be. I somehow managed not to cry through repeating the mantra of 'now come on Hannah, you're going to be a vicar, if you blub now however are you going to manage weddings and funerals?' But it was a struggle. We'll visit, of course. But my valuable days of being a normal congregation member in a church now appear to be over. I think that St Davids will feel like 'my church' for a long time yet.
On the way back to Somerset from St Dave's we snuck by Barton Close. There is a car and a van outside, a blue sofa in the lounge and mobiles in the bedroom window. I felt strangely happy that someone was enjoying the place.
St Davids aside I thought I was handling the weekend pretty well; chilled-out, relaxed, taking it in my stride. And then I came over monumentally tired a couple of hours ago. I said to Paul, I think sometimes you think you're taking things in your stride but the effects of change run pretty deep. And, I suspect, the effects of 4 hours sitting on the A303 staring at Stone Henge run pretty deep too.
Well, writing this post has woken me up at least. So I'll splash my face and get myself off to Nan's. These few days are for finishing off at work and making the most of some quality time with the fam. See you later.
The house sale completed on Friday, just as it should have done. The removal chaps turned up at 8.30 and all the contents of the house were loaded by 9.30. As we took one last walk around the place I felt curiously unemotional, but welled up when one of our neighbours caught us on the way out and gave us a good luck card. Even though we did so much of the DIY ourselves, I don't think I'm particularly attached to the bricks and mortar of our house. But I'll miss Stoke Canon a lot.
The call from the Solicitors came at 10.30. Paul took it, I was driving. The house we had bought 20 months ago with the intention to set down roots in Devon for good was no longer ours. We had stepped off the cliff and into the unknown.
And so we headed off to Oxford. The journey was fairly uneventful, we took what we needed for Friday night. To-ing and fro-ing from car to flat we met 3 other people who live in the block, and all were lovely, asked us whether we had everything we needed and if there was anything they could do. What you'd expect of trainee-vicars I suppose.
We had dinner at the Bat and Ball pub in the village which was absolutely super and for the one and only time that day it actually felt like it might just be my 25th birthday!
Yesterday, the men turned up again at 8.30. We spent the morning unpacking boxes and positioning furniture, a job we didn't manage to complete, and headed back to Somerset at midday, a journey which should have taken 2 hours 20 minutes but took almost double that due to all the holiday traffic.
This morning was our last morning at St Davids and, actually, the most emotional moment of the whole weekend. I knew it would be. St Davids has been such a wonderful place to be. I somehow managed not to cry through repeating the mantra of 'now come on Hannah, you're going to be a vicar, if you blub now however are you going to manage weddings and funerals?' But it was a struggle. We'll visit, of course. But my valuable days of being a normal congregation member in a church now appear to be over. I think that St Davids will feel like 'my church' for a long time yet.
On the way back to Somerset from St Dave's we snuck by Barton Close. There is a car and a van outside, a blue sofa in the lounge and mobiles in the bedroom window. I felt strangely happy that someone was enjoying the place.
St Davids aside I thought I was handling the weekend pretty well; chilled-out, relaxed, taking it in my stride. And then I came over monumentally tired a couple of hours ago. I said to Paul, I think sometimes you think you're taking things in your stride but the effects of change run pretty deep. And, I suspect, the effects of 4 hours sitting on the A303 staring at Stone Henge run pretty deep too.
Well, writing this post has woken me up at least. So I'll splash my face and get myself off to Nan's. These few days are for finishing off at work and making the most of some quality time with the fam. See you later.
Thursday 28 July 2011
Times They are A'Changing
We are moving tomorrow.
Yes, it's all come as a bit of a shock. The call came from Sue by Name at 1pm on Monday which was actually very convenient timing as I'd just downed half a cider at the Coaver Club and was therefore able to take the news relatively calmly. "Oh, so the Buyers want to move on Friday do they? Oh yes, fine. We'll pack up all our stuff and arrange removals in 93 hours. Not a problem."
So we exchanged contracts this morning (better late than never...) and the men from the appropriately-named Bishops Removal Company will be turning up at 9am tomorrow. We'll close the front door of 5 Barton Close for the very last time, travel over to Oxford to pick up the flat keys, go for a birthday meal somewhere (did I mention I'm 25 tomorrow...?), sleep overnight on the floor of the flat then take receipt of our furniture on Saturday.
My last day at work is Thursday 4th August, so we'll be travelling back to my Mum and Dad's on Saturday and staying with them til next Friday.
It's been a hectic few days but I think we're just about there with packing and admin.
I'm starting to feel sentimental about Exeter. I was driving round Exe Bridges yesterday when I got a sudden surge of nostalgia, which is not an emotion I normally associate with Exe Bridges. It's amazing to think that it was almost 6 years ago Mum and Dad dropped me down to Exeter for University. We got lost and ended up at Exe Bridges, luckily managed to take the exit onto Bonhay road which took us in the right direction. I remember looking out of the car window at the river as it ran down past the Mill on the Exe and how beautiful it looked. 6 years and 5 houses later (D101 Nash Grove, 19 Vic Street, 13 Danes Road, Victoria Place and 5 Barton Close) I'm leaving. And it's just starting to sink in.
Ho hum, I'll try and hold myself together! After all, there's so much to look forward to.
Yes, it's all come as a bit of a shock. The call came from Sue by Name at 1pm on Monday which was actually very convenient timing as I'd just downed half a cider at the Coaver Club and was therefore able to take the news relatively calmly. "Oh, so the Buyers want to move on Friday do they? Oh yes, fine. We'll pack up all our stuff and arrange removals in 93 hours. Not a problem."
So we exchanged contracts this morning (better late than never...) and the men from the appropriately-named Bishops Removal Company will be turning up at 9am tomorrow. We'll close the front door of 5 Barton Close for the very last time, travel over to Oxford to pick up the flat keys, go for a birthday meal somewhere (did I mention I'm 25 tomorrow...?), sleep overnight on the floor of the flat then take receipt of our furniture on Saturday.
My last day at work is Thursday 4th August, so we'll be travelling back to my Mum and Dad's on Saturday and staying with them til next Friday.
It's been a hectic few days but I think we're just about there with packing and admin.
I'm starting to feel sentimental about Exeter. I was driving round Exe Bridges yesterday when I got a sudden surge of nostalgia, which is not an emotion I normally associate with Exe Bridges. It's amazing to think that it was almost 6 years ago Mum and Dad dropped me down to Exeter for University. We got lost and ended up at Exe Bridges, luckily managed to take the exit onto Bonhay road which took us in the right direction. I remember looking out of the car window at the river as it ran down past the Mill on the Exe and how beautiful it looked. 6 years and 5 houses later (D101 Nash Grove, 19 Vic Street, 13 Danes Road, Victoria Place and 5 Barton Close) I'm leaving. And it's just starting to sink in.
Ho hum, I'll try and hold myself together! After all, there's so much to look forward to.
Friday 22 July 2011
Gardening
Life is largely unproductive at the moment. My particular place of work is famed for being very quiet in July and August due to the huge number of people we're involved with who work term-time only. I've been trying to keep myself busy but I spent a significant amount of time today watching a man on a large ride-on lawnmower go up and down the grass outside my office window.
I thought to myself; that man can look back on his day's work and see that he's achieved something. I'm not sure I can say the same at the moment.
And I'm not sure I'll ever be able to have that sort of 'job done' satisfaction as a Priest, not very often anyway. People are messy. Relationships are messy. So Churches are messy places, and the Priest's job isn't to fly in like Superwoman sort out everyone's problems then fly out again, satisfied with the neatly-mowed lawn. It's about getting alongside people and trudging through the long grass together.
Well, that was my thought for the day. Incidentally, I did some gardening this evening. A bit of weeding. Felt very pleased with the result although I've only cleared the weeds down one side of the front lawn. More to do tomorrow. A bit of digging is good for the soul.
It's been a while since the last Blog entry and if I went through all the to-ing and fro-ing we've had with Solicitors and Estate Agents and Surveyors this post would go on forever. Some highlights from the Buyers solicitors questions to us;
"Does anyone have permission to hold a fair on your land?"
No.
"To the best of your knowledge does anyone has any interest in your loft?"
Even I'm not very interested in my loft.
"You have got some outbuildings built without permission. Why have you got these outbuildings built without permission?"
They were built in 1966 so if you're looking for someone to blame...
OK, slightly rephrased by me, but surprisingly not that much.
After all of this we're looking at exchanging (probably) next week and completing (probably) on Friday 5th August. So there's a couple of probables to deal with, but it feels like we're nearing the end. Hence, clearing the weeds.
It really is feeling like an unbearable wait now. It's worse for Paul as he's home all day. By the time I come home from work in the evening I'm up for a bit of dinner, TV and sleep, but he's had those options available to him all day. I don't envy him. Even if work is a bit slow at the moment at least it's something to wake me up in the morning.
Did anyone see 'Alex:A life in Fast Forward' on BBC 3 last night? It was a documentary about a young chap of 22 with terminal bone cancer. Knowing he didn't have long to live he had decided to live life to the full for the little time he had. My description sounds a bit cliched but Alex came across as such an endearing young man I'd recommend a watch on iplayer if it sounds your sort of thing.
It provides some food for though for those of us inclined to moaning regarding house sales.
I thought to myself; that man can look back on his day's work and see that he's achieved something. I'm not sure I can say the same at the moment.
And I'm not sure I'll ever be able to have that sort of 'job done' satisfaction as a Priest, not very often anyway. People are messy. Relationships are messy. So Churches are messy places, and the Priest's job isn't to fly in like Superwoman sort out everyone's problems then fly out again, satisfied with the neatly-mowed lawn. It's about getting alongside people and trudging through the long grass together.
Well, that was my thought for the day. Incidentally, I did some gardening this evening. A bit of weeding. Felt very pleased with the result although I've only cleared the weeds down one side of the front lawn. More to do tomorrow. A bit of digging is good for the soul.
It's been a while since the last Blog entry and if I went through all the to-ing and fro-ing we've had with Solicitors and Estate Agents and Surveyors this post would go on forever. Some highlights from the Buyers solicitors questions to us;
"Does anyone have permission to hold a fair on your land?"
No.
"To the best of your knowledge does anyone has any interest in your loft?"
Even I'm not very interested in my loft.
"You have got some outbuildings built without permission. Why have you got these outbuildings built without permission?"
They were built in 1966 so if you're looking for someone to blame...
OK, slightly rephrased by me, but surprisingly not that much.
After all of this we're looking at exchanging (probably) next week and completing (probably) on Friday 5th August. So there's a couple of probables to deal with, but it feels like we're nearing the end. Hence, clearing the weeds.
It really is feeling like an unbearable wait now. It's worse for Paul as he's home all day. By the time I come home from work in the evening I'm up for a bit of dinner, TV and sleep, but he's had those options available to him all day. I don't envy him. Even if work is a bit slow at the moment at least it's something to wake me up in the morning.
Did anyone see 'Alex:A life in Fast Forward' on BBC 3 last night? It was a documentary about a young chap of 22 with terminal bone cancer. Knowing he didn't have long to live he had decided to live life to the full for the little time he had. My description sounds a bit cliched but Alex came across as such an endearing young man I'd recommend a watch on iplayer if it sounds your sort of thing.
It provides some food for though for those of us inclined to moaning regarding house sales.
Sunday 10 July 2011
A Fete Worse Than Death
Hola! I know I only wrote on Wednesday but there's been a few developments since.
On Thursday, Sue the (aptly named) Solicitor called. She told me that the Buyers' mortgage is approved and the searches are underway. I'm racking my brains trying to remember what exactly searches entail, seems a while since we bought. I think it's basically getting hold of those maps which show property boundaries, nearby areas of contamination etc. Nothing much showed up on our searches so it should be fine unless Stoke Canon's become a radioactive hotspot since we moved in.
Anyway, I asked Sue whether they'd be getting a survey (they've had a mortgage valuation which is basically some bloke coming round for about 10 minutes and going "yep, this house doesn't appear to be falling down") but no proper survey as yet. She said they wouldn't necessarily get one done. Since then we've heard that they will be getting a survey, on Wednesday in fact, so we've been busy filling cracks in the ceiling over the weekend!
Sue reckons we could technically complete on 29th July if the buyers are happy with that. My guess is that it will be a bit later than that. Getting the survey written up and sent to them will push the completion date back by at least a week. And then it's whether they've handed in the notice on their property yet yada yada yada. Paul's still holding up hope for 29th July but my bets are on the second week of August. Ever the realist!
Talking of Paul, he's now finished his job, therefore I am the sole breadwinner at least for the next 3 to 5 weeks. *Breaks out into a chorus of 'Independent Women' by Destiny's Child* I really don't mind, it gets me out of deep cleaning the house and packing boxes! But I really hope it's not for too long as the Mortgage alone is *gets calculator out* 52% of my monthly income, and there's bills and food and Bluebird's MOT on top of that, and given that our overdraft limit is a constant menace at the best of times we're going to have to be reeeally careful with money if we're going to survive any length of time like this. Fish fingers for dinner every night I think.
Anyway, now we come to the bright shiny gold-plated news of the week which came on Friday when I emailed David the Bursar and asked if he could pleeeease let us know where we'll be living. He replied almost immediately to say he will allocate us the flat in the Runcie building. I have decided I love David the Bursar.
The flat is exactly the sort of place I pictured us living in when we chose Cuddesdon. On campus, right in the heart of things, the chapel and the common room only a hop away. Up on the second floor with sweeping views of the Oxfordshire countryside. Two-bedrooms, space for a study and for guests to stay. We've really fallen on our feet.
I was meaning to tell Tom the Vicar at the Church Fete yesterday. Being a Cuddesdon man himself he was adamant that Runcie would suit us down to the ground. But he was busy in his dog collar and wide-brimmed hat circling the stalls, quipping on the microphone from time to time. It is slightly bizarre to think I'll be doing that sort of thing in a few year's time.
Andy the New Curate was there and seems to be getting stuck in, despite having only been at St Davids for a week. Tom introduced him over the mic. What Andy's doing is essentially what I'll be doing in 2 years' time - a Curate is a sort of Apprentice Vicar - so it's interesting to watch him and his family as they settle in.
Paul and I ran the Beat the Buzzer stall. We made £7.20. Probably won't be enough to mend the dodgy West wall. Might buy some gaffer tape to patch it up in the meantime.
So that was yesterday. Today I've been writing poetry. Would you like to hear it? I'm not sure how pleased I am with it. I'm normally a rhyme and rhythm kind of girl and this one doesn't have either.
On Thursday, Sue the (aptly named) Solicitor called. She told me that the Buyers' mortgage is approved and the searches are underway. I'm racking my brains trying to remember what exactly searches entail, seems a while since we bought. I think it's basically getting hold of those maps which show property boundaries, nearby areas of contamination etc. Nothing much showed up on our searches so it should be fine unless Stoke Canon's become a radioactive hotspot since we moved in.
Anyway, I asked Sue whether they'd be getting a survey (they've had a mortgage valuation which is basically some bloke coming round for about 10 minutes and going "yep, this house doesn't appear to be falling down") but no proper survey as yet. She said they wouldn't necessarily get one done. Since then we've heard that they will be getting a survey, on Wednesday in fact, so we've been busy filling cracks in the ceiling over the weekend!
Sue reckons we could technically complete on 29th July if the buyers are happy with that. My guess is that it will be a bit later than that. Getting the survey written up and sent to them will push the completion date back by at least a week. And then it's whether they've handed in the notice on their property yet yada yada yada. Paul's still holding up hope for 29th July but my bets are on the second week of August. Ever the realist!
Talking of Paul, he's now finished his job, therefore I am the sole breadwinner at least for the next 3 to 5 weeks. *Breaks out into a chorus of 'Independent Women' by Destiny's Child* I really don't mind, it gets me out of deep cleaning the house and packing boxes! But I really hope it's not for too long as the Mortgage alone is *gets calculator out* 52% of my monthly income, and there's bills and food and Bluebird's MOT on top of that, and given that our overdraft limit is a constant menace at the best of times we're going to have to be reeeally careful with money if we're going to survive any length of time like this. Fish fingers for dinner every night I think.
Anyway, now we come to the bright shiny gold-plated news of the week which came on Friday when I emailed David the Bursar and asked if he could pleeeease let us know where we'll be living. He replied almost immediately to say he will allocate us the flat in the Runcie building. I have decided I love David the Bursar.
The flat is exactly the sort of place I pictured us living in when we chose Cuddesdon. On campus, right in the heart of things, the chapel and the common room only a hop away. Up on the second floor with sweeping views of the Oxfordshire countryside. Two-bedrooms, space for a study and for guests to stay. We've really fallen on our feet.
I was meaning to tell Tom the Vicar at the Church Fete yesterday. Being a Cuddesdon man himself he was adamant that Runcie would suit us down to the ground. But he was busy in his dog collar and wide-brimmed hat circling the stalls, quipping on the microphone from time to time. It is slightly bizarre to think I'll be doing that sort of thing in a few year's time.
Andy the New Curate was there and seems to be getting stuck in, despite having only been at St Davids for a week. Tom introduced him over the mic. What Andy's doing is essentially what I'll be doing in 2 years' time - a Curate is a sort of Apprentice Vicar - so it's interesting to watch him and his family as they settle in.
Paul and I ran the Beat the Buzzer stall. We made £7.20. Probably won't be enough to mend the dodgy West wall. Might buy some gaffer tape to patch it up in the meantime.
So that was yesterday. Today I've been writing poetry. Would you like to hear it? I'm not sure how pleased I am with it. I'm normally a rhyme and rhythm kind of girl and this one doesn't have either.
Being and Doing
At four years old
We crawl into a cocoon and lie
Learning and growing
Ready to emerge at twenty-one
And see what we have become.
As I spread my wings
I was expecting definition
But there were no clear markings
To tell me what I was.
From four I knew
You are what you do
Like the faces on my Happy Families cards
(Mr Bread the Baker
Mr Plod the Policeman
Mrs Chalk the Teacher)
I can see the badges on their uniforms
I know what they are.
But I had no uniform.
I had a job
But I wasn’t a job
I was a lot of other things
(A friend, a wife, a dreamer)
But I wasn’t a job
It sounds obvious
But it’s a gear shift
And one I’m still getting used to
As I scold myself every time I ask
A stranger at a party
A minute into the conversation
“So, what do you do?”
Wednesday 6 July 2011
I'll Be There For You
A brief sum of the whole moving-to-Oxford news;
1) We still do not know if we are to be flatting or cottaging (don't...)
2) The buyers have at last felt moved to pay their Solicitors (yaaaay!)
3) The Diocese have granted Paul permission to study and he has applied to college (woop!)
I only learnt of news point (2) yesterday, therefore I am in a very good mood.
My mind has stuck a foot into the 'well, I might actually be moving quite soon' zone, and while my immediate reaction to this is excitement I know there's a lot I'm going to miss about Devon.
My job I probably won't miss. I like it well enough, my colleagues are nice and laugh at my jokes, and the last year in disabled children's services has taught me a hell of a lot about the realities of life for some people, but my heart isn't in project/data management especially in a setting which is so detached from the service users.
I'll miss Stoke Canon for sure. Although owning our own home hasn't always been a pleasant experience - we seem to have had more than our fair share of things going wrong with it - there is something very grounding about owning the bricks and mortar that surround you. It's a proper grown-up house in a proper grown-up neighbourhood. Our neighbours are friendly, but don't intrude. This will not be the case when we're in a parish.
But, of course, it's friends I'll miss the most and I feel a bit of a hypocrite saying it, because I'm not the most conscientious of friends. I miss birthdays and don't ring as much as I should which makes me feel bad, especially when it comes to my old Uni housemates who have been such brilliant friends to me over the years.
Lizzie and Sazzle, Tristan and Andrew, Amy, Emma and Emily, Quizteamaguiliera, my friends at Pink Biscuit Poetry, and so many more. These are all people I'll be seeing this month. But after that, when? Yes, I'm not the most conscientious of friends, but their proximity is always a comfort.
I think Ellie's the only friend I'll actually be nearer to in Oxford than in Exeter. And Jen's about equidistant between the two, so it's not all bad.
People have said that when I go to college I'll make "friends for life" but in a way I feel like I've got enough friends. All the seats in my hypothetical bus of friends are full, and I don't want to shift even one of them to make room for a new friend. Am I getting soppy now? Ok, I'll stop. You know you've got to stop when you talk about hypothetical buses of friends.
So I'm off to write something for poetry on Monday. "Vocations and Callings" is the theme (in my honour). Maybe I'll post it on here if it's any good.
1) We still do not know if we are to be flatting or cottaging (don't...)
2) The buyers have at last felt moved to pay their Solicitors (yaaaay!)
3) The Diocese have granted Paul permission to study and he has applied to college (woop!)
I only learnt of news point (2) yesterday, therefore I am in a very good mood.
My mind has stuck a foot into the 'well, I might actually be moving quite soon' zone, and while my immediate reaction to this is excitement I know there's a lot I'm going to miss about Devon.
My job I probably won't miss. I like it well enough, my colleagues are nice and laugh at my jokes, and the last year in disabled children's services has taught me a hell of a lot about the realities of life for some people, but my heart isn't in project/data management especially in a setting which is so detached from the service users.
I'll miss Stoke Canon for sure. Although owning our own home hasn't always been a pleasant experience - we seem to have had more than our fair share of things going wrong with it - there is something very grounding about owning the bricks and mortar that surround you. It's a proper grown-up house in a proper grown-up neighbourhood. Our neighbours are friendly, but don't intrude. This will not be the case when we're in a parish.
But, of course, it's friends I'll miss the most and I feel a bit of a hypocrite saying it, because I'm not the most conscientious of friends. I miss birthdays and don't ring as much as I should which makes me feel bad, especially when it comes to my old Uni housemates who have been such brilliant friends to me over the years.
Lizzie and Sazzle, Tristan and Andrew, Amy, Emma and Emily, Quizteamaguiliera, my friends at Pink Biscuit Poetry, and so many more. These are all people I'll be seeing this month. But after that, when? Yes, I'm not the most conscientious of friends, but their proximity is always a comfort.
I think Ellie's the only friend I'll actually be nearer to in Oxford than in Exeter. And Jen's about equidistant between the two, so it's not all bad.
People have said that when I go to college I'll make "friends for life" but in a way I feel like I've got enough friends. All the seats in my hypothetical bus of friends are full, and I don't want to shift even one of them to make room for a new friend. Am I getting soppy now? Ok, I'll stop. You know you've got to stop when you talk about hypothetical buses of friends.
So I'm off to write something for poetry on Monday. "Vocations and Callings" is the theme (in my honour). Maybe I'll post it on here if it's any good.
Sunday 26 June 2011
All I Want is a Room Somewhere
Aha! There you are! So we went on our 330 mile round trip to Oxford yesterday and lived to tell the tale. I'm so glad we went to have a look at the property options avaliable to us rather than just shrugging and saying "whatever" as our views were very clear-cut.
The cottage in Wheatley will, I think, be completely wrong. It's a converted barn, very nicely done with exposed brickwork and high beamed ceilings. Nice house, but the wrong location. First of all, it's a long way from the college, a 10 minute drive or an hour or so to walk, and with Paul and I really keen to involve ourselves in the community there'd be no popping to 10pm compline on a whim or staying up in the common room until the small hours. Worse than that is the roads. It's set on an apex of two busy roads - the main road into Wheatley at the front, the A40 dual carriageway at the back right off the garden. If we took the cats there they would come to a sticky end for sure.
The flat in the college was a complete contrast. We thought that being on the second floor would make it difficult for us to take the cats, but there's no door at the bottom of the stairwell, it just opens up into the gardens. The flat next door have a cat, and he seemed very happy and friendly, he even came into the one we were looking at to help us have a look around. It's unfurnished and plenty spacious enough for our furniture, and the view out the back is breathtaking. I couldn't imagine anywhere more perfect.
But... there's a but. We don't get to choose. David takes our views into account and goes away to piece together the very complicated jigsaw he is managing. He told us quietly that he's 75% sure we'll be able to have the flat. He should be able to let us know next week.
Meanwhile... things are coming together on what Paul is to do while I am training. Technically, the church expect him to work and contribute his earnings to my grant. However, we've asked for dispensation for him to study too. He'll be taking an ICT level 3 in Oxford or Abingdon, the plan being that by the time we return to Devon he'll be able to either set up his own business or get an IT support job somewhere. To me, it makes much more sense than him getting another driving or warehousing job which is going nowhere. We'll see what the Diocese say.
In other news, I spoke to the Solicitor on Friday. She thinks our buyers aren't moving particularly quickly. They're getting the mortgage sorted but have not paid conveyancing fees to their Solicitors as yet.
Looks like we could be in Devon a little while longer.
The cottage in Wheatley will, I think, be completely wrong. It's a converted barn, very nicely done with exposed brickwork and high beamed ceilings. Nice house, but the wrong location. First of all, it's a long way from the college, a 10 minute drive or an hour or so to walk, and with Paul and I really keen to involve ourselves in the community there'd be no popping to 10pm compline on a whim or staying up in the common room until the small hours. Worse than that is the roads. It's set on an apex of two busy roads - the main road into Wheatley at the front, the A40 dual carriageway at the back right off the garden. If we took the cats there they would come to a sticky end for sure.
The flat in the college was a complete contrast. We thought that being on the second floor would make it difficult for us to take the cats, but there's no door at the bottom of the stairwell, it just opens up into the gardens. The flat next door have a cat, and he seemed very happy and friendly, he even came into the one we were looking at to help us have a look around. It's unfurnished and plenty spacious enough for our furniture, and the view out the back is breathtaking. I couldn't imagine anywhere more perfect.
But... there's a but. We don't get to choose. David takes our views into account and goes away to piece together the very complicated jigsaw he is managing. He told us quietly that he's 75% sure we'll be able to have the flat. He should be able to let us know next week.
Meanwhile... things are coming together on what Paul is to do while I am training. Technically, the church expect him to work and contribute his earnings to my grant. However, we've asked for dispensation for him to study too. He'll be taking an ICT level 3 in Oxford or Abingdon, the plan being that by the time we return to Devon he'll be able to either set up his own business or get an IT support job somewhere. To me, it makes much more sense than him getting another driving or warehousing job which is going nowhere. We'll see what the Diocese say.
In other news, I spoke to the Solicitor on Friday. She thinks our buyers aren't moving particularly quickly. They're getting the mortgage sorted but have not paid conveyancing fees to their Solicitors as yet.
Looks like we could be in Devon a little while longer.
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