When I was a youngster I was an avid Enid Blyton fan. My favourite series of all was, I think, Malory Towers. There was something very exciting about the idea of boarding school and all the hijinx that could be got up to. Not that I was the sort of child who would have actually got up to much hijinx, but it was certainly fun to read about.
As we drove to past the village sign to Cuddesdon the July before last and caught the first glimpse of college, I remember trying to summon a quote from the first chapter of the first book of Malory Towers. It goes something like - "Darrell craned her neck to catch a glimpse of the school she would call home for the next five years..." Anyone who has driven into Cuddesdon will know the view I mean - looking across the field towards the back of the Runcie buildings and the college beyond. The roofs and chimneys and bell. The view has altered a bit in the last few years, but the principal is still the same. Did I say principal? - I mean, principle. I mean, the view is still very nice.
Cuddesdon has that sort of boarding school feel about it, and that first term had the feel of starting school. All those worries around making friends and keeping up with the work and figuring out how on earth you manage to be in the correct place at the correct time. Soon they gave way to familiarity and routine - why, of course evening prayer is at 5.15pm on some nights and 5.45pm on others! And of course we enter dinner through a different door on a Wednesday night! And of course you get kippers for breakfast on a Tuesday!
And now it's back to school for the last time. As I walked into chapel this morning and looked around the familiar faces in the slightly less-familiar building it felt like the-beginning-of-the-end-of-the-beginning. And as we had our annual 'school photograph' taken this afternoon, I realised it would not be long before this photo - Leavers, 2013 - hanging somewhere in a corridor in College House would be all that would be left of me at Cuddesdon. Removals are booked for precisely 7 weeks time. We're nearly there.
But it's not time to be sentimental. 2 years isn't actually a huge amount of time and, in a sense, it's only ever felt 'transitional'. There have been times this year when Arthur's situation has forced me to detach myself from college almost entirely, and it's a great pity that I feel I still don't know some of the first year as well as I should.
But I need to move on from any regrets now and look to the future. For the next 7 weeks I will be mainly getting as much of my dissertation done as is possible, eating as much free food as is possible and swotting up on all those things I think I really ought to know pre-ordination.
Time to polish those shoes and sharpen those pencils for one final time. Term 6 of 6 is upon us. Over and out!
Monday 22 April 2013
Saturday 6 April 2013
Two Years of Blogging
It's two years since I started this Blog. Well, two years and four days, but I was probably a bit busy on Tuesday so let's for the sake of things say it's two years since I started this Blog.
I've checked, and apparently I started it because, and I quote, "I find there's something satisfying about writing down thoughts and feelings during transitional stages of life and this is one of them."
Who was I writing down thoughts and feelings for? Myself mainly, I think. So why put them online when paper and pen would do just as well? I'm not sure, it just seems like the thing to do, and it's been lovely when people have told me they read this Blog, especially people going through the discernment process and those who have shown an interest in Arthur and his story.
The post about the BAP has now had almost 1,000 views. If I'd known that I'd probably have done a spell check.
It's certainly been a "transitional stage." Paul and I have done lots of things for the first time: sold a house, lived out of the Westcountry, had a baby. My personal firsts: I've been to a BAP, bought a cassock, attended a youth group!
It's certainly been a transitional time.
In the last few weeks I've had quite a sense of ending. College ending, of course. There are now less than 9 weeks to go until college is over, and little more than 12 until I'm ordained.
But things are changing with Arthur too. At 8 months old he's developing his own personality. He responds to things more readily. He shows likes and dislikes. Now, more than ever, he's showing that spina bifida doesn't define him. Spina bifida really dominated the pregnancy and Arthur's first few weeks of life, but over the last couple of months I've felt less need to go on about it. When we meet new people, I tend to try not to tell them about his disability unless it's really relevant. Partly, it's about moving on myself. And it's partly becoming aware that I don't want him growing up believing that disability defines him. It's important he acknowledges it, and that it's a right pain, but the fact is it's there, and he needs to have dreams and ambitions that go beyond it. The last thing I'd want is for him to think about himself, as a child, "I'm Arthur, and I've got spina bifida."
And, of course, my life will be changing as I move into Curacy. For starters, I'll need to be less public about the things that are on my mind, which make Blogging after June less doable. The last thing I'd want would be to write in a way which wasn't able to be entirely honest about how I'm feeling.
So I'll probably draw the Blog to a close at ordination. It's better to do that then just let it fizzle out, that's my thinking. The fact that my posts have got less and less frequent suggest that I need it less these days. And, let's face it, from June I'll have less time for meandering reflections on my own life. Time to look upwards, and outwards, and onwards.
I've checked, and apparently I started it because, and I quote, "I find there's something satisfying about writing down thoughts and feelings during transitional stages of life and this is one of them."
Who was I writing down thoughts and feelings for? Myself mainly, I think. So why put them online when paper and pen would do just as well? I'm not sure, it just seems like the thing to do, and it's been lovely when people have told me they read this Blog, especially people going through the discernment process and those who have shown an interest in Arthur and his story.
The post about the BAP has now had almost 1,000 views. If I'd known that I'd probably have done a spell check.
It's certainly been a "transitional stage." Paul and I have done lots of things for the first time: sold a house, lived out of the Westcountry, had a baby. My personal firsts: I've been to a BAP, bought a cassock, attended a youth group!
It's certainly been a transitional time.
In the last few weeks I've had quite a sense of ending. College ending, of course. There are now less than 9 weeks to go until college is over, and little more than 12 until I'm ordained.
But things are changing with Arthur too. At 8 months old he's developing his own personality. He responds to things more readily. He shows likes and dislikes. Now, more than ever, he's showing that spina bifida doesn't define him. Spina bifida really dominated the pregnancy and Arthur's first few weeks of life, but over the last couple of months I've felt less need to go on about it. When we meet new people, I tend to try not to tell them about his disability unless it's really relevant. Partly, it's about moving on myself. And it's partly becoming aware that I don't want him growing up believing that disability defines him. It's important he acknowledges it, and that it's a right pain, but the fact is it's there, and he needs to have dreams and ambitions that go beyond it. The last thing I'd want is for him to think about himself, as a child, "I'm Arthur, and I've got spina bifida."
And, of course, my life will be changing as I move into Curacy. For starters, I'll need to be less public about the things that are on my mind, which make Blogging after June less doable. The last thing I'd want would be to write in a way which wasn't able to be entirely honest about how I'm feeling.
So I'll probably draw the Blog to a close at ordination. It's better to do that then just let it fizzle out, that's my thinking. The fact that my posts have got less and less frequent suggest that I need it less these days. And, let's face it, from June I'll have less time for meandering reflections on my own life. Time to look upwards, and outwards, and onwards.
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