Things I think about the DUP

I'm not even going to Google pictures of these people. If you live outside the UK, don't at all bother to worry about this post. You have quite enough ridiculous politicians of your own. Every now and again I just fret slightly over a sense of shame when Northern Irish folk appear in national Parliament on national news, spouting their views and flaunting their Theresa May-given position on national issues. This is what I think*:


The Democratic Unionist Party holds a dubious claim to democratic mandate.
Here in Northern Ireland, lots of people do not vote, They claim, not without grounds, that there is no-one to vote for. When folk do vote they seem to vote according to what the candidates are not rather than what they are: loyalist voters will vote for loyalist candidates, regardless of how (in)effective they are and republican voters ditto. Thus the DUP and Sinn Fein become our main parties electorally. In June 2017, the DUP secured 36% of votes and Sinn Fein 29.4%. 65.6% of our eligible electorate turned out to vote. What is a third of two-thirds? Two-ninths?


Northern Ireland voted overwhelmingly to remain in the EU.
I'd like the rest of the UK to remember this when DUP MPs stand in the House of Commons, recorded by the BBC, and stand there in the way of all recent attempts to sort Brexit. I didn't vote for them. Most of us didn't vote for them. They are not voicing representative views.


DUP MLAs have not worked in more than two years.
We vote for three levels of government. We have local council elections coming up soon, and thankfully the local councillors are all working. Then, because of our devolved government aka Stormont, we vote for MLAs (Member of Local Assembly). They have not worked in more than two years. Apparently both sides (DUP and Sinn Fein) are ready to be back in the Assembly tomorrow, are ready to have talks, and are not the problem. Karen Bradley docked their pay slightly recently. Finally we vote for our Westminster MPs. They are in Westminster, blocking Brexit proposals.


It seems we don't care how corrupt they are.
We don't care abut the millions they made for themselves, from our taxes, on the loop-holes that they knew about in the Renewable Heat Incentive scheme. We don't care that Ian Paisley Junior enjoyed a questionable relationship with the Sri Lankan government who funded his family holidays. We don't ask about the money given to Northern Ireland by Theresa May to form a coalition government which meant that they had to back her in Brexit proposals. We don't care about any of this because we know that we would vote them all straight back in, as we are about to do in local council elections; none of this matters as much as the important fact that they are not green. Indeed Ian Paisley Jnr was suspended from the House of Commons for his corruption but was ultimately backed by his local party.


Ironically, should a border poll come about, it will have been largely influenced by the position of this loyalist party.
If the DUP stands ideologically on its hard Irish border, flying its "Leave" flag for Britain, how would folk vote in a choice between non-EU Britain and EU Ireland? A population of less than two million people who voted predominantly "Remain". On holiday in the border county of Fermanagh two years ago I took a wrong turn out of a National Trust property and crossed the border four times in the twenty minutes it took me to drive the back road to the holiday house.


Sorry, Britain (and you, if you're still here- I promise there'll be a nice picture next time).


*Obviously this is all and entirely wholly my own personal opinion and this is the Internet and all of life is here. Including me.

Raising Ebenezers

I have blogged about this little sculpture before. It is "Community" by Sonja Landweer, and it is my very favourite piece in the whole of the wonderfully wonderful Ulster Museum. I have always loved the diverse mounds and pillars and surfaces, all of us in all our shapes and sizes, how we look and how we feel.

 We spent an evening in the Museum one Friday night last month. Such a hoot. It was open for one of Belfast's Real Sketchy events, where you roll in and wander, with a drink in your hand, live music in your ears, and sketching any of their treasures as you go!

 It was planned to coincide with the Museum's hosting of the Lines of Thought exhibition- sketches of masters from Michaelangelo (in whose fat belly this middle-aged and spreading woman found much solace) to Picasso. The Barbara Hepworth is all ours, but it was gorgeously intimate to be there after hours, able to look and consider, though still not touch!

 Some people took it very seriously. This is Colin Murphy, a Northern Irish comedian we laugh over when we watch the Blame Game on BBC1. He really didn't want to be disturbed. I'm afraid I did. Couldn't resist. I don't get out much.

This is our friend, the prof, who doesn't wear shoes inside. Ever. Anywhere. When we first met him, and his fabulous wife, in church, we presumed it was a standing on holy ground thing. It's not. He just doesn't do shoes unless absolutely necessary. Darlings! It was just his sort of night.

Other people didn't take it quite so seriously. However, what I have since appreciated about Prince Charming's artistic output has become something very significant. PC downloaded an app that allows you to photograph something, and then turn it into your own piece of art. Very David Hockney. Very now. Darlings.

And so here is Landweer's community re-imagined a la PC. (That's a very PC word- apparently re-imagined is an old hymn given a modern twist.) And what I keep thinking about now, is how perfectly it illustrates what is increasingly for me a very, very fundamental truth. I Samuel 7:12. "Thus far has the Lord helped us." It's the story of Samuel experiencing the loud thunder of the Lord's deliverance, and setting up a stone, raising an Ebenezer, as a visual reminder that time and time again God deals with the details of our lives, the fights, the struggles, the worries, the times. I know that we know this, but I am not good at remembering this. I love the notion of having visual reminders in the landscape that say to this generation and the next- thus far has the Lord helped us.

So, until I can get some big rocks into the garden, I'm sticking with PC's Landweer!

Lesons still unlearned

So here we are in May. It feels somehow momentous. Mattman is into his last number of weeks at the end of his first year at Big School. Jo is well into the AQE process of getting ready for The Test that will determine his Big School. Summer is ahead and plans are being made. Another whole year gets ready to add itself to the accumulation. Years are still marked in school ones here!

I gave up on the 52 books in one (school) year a while ago. MK's recent post on whether or not we are still readers was interesting. I know that my attention span is definitely going the way of all my grey cells. So I have decided to get a grip!

I am 46 years of age and not at all proficient in lighting a fire. My mother was the protector of the fire, as of all other things, when I was at home. Then when I had my first house, Prince Charming would motor down to the little country town where I lived and show off his fire-building skills, and I was quite happy to let him do his cave man thing.

Our first house together had a gas fire, which I loved. Switch on when wanted. Switch off when done. Phone Andy's Stores (local purveyor of everything you could possibly need ever- including home removal service) and order new cylinder when necessary.

The Meadowplace however has a real fire in the Book Room. PC lit it often through the winter, usually on grim Saturday afternoons if we'd bought the weekend Irish Times and could hide from Minecraft with tea and the magazines.

Yesterday it rained all day and the boys had friends round from church. I decided to pull a chair right up to the fireplace with one of the remaining unpacked crates of bumpf and resolved to light the fire. I was nearly there. I did need some cave man assistance to make it properly secure. I was there the whole afternoon thereafter, supplementing with peat and old paperwork as came to hand. One crate down, x to go.

I'll have a photo of my first solo lit effort by the end of the month. I also want to have a photo of a clean car. Last night at friends' C. told us that if they are just in from school and her son is pottering and she still has her coat on she'll just nip out and wash the car. Just nip out and wash the car? Is this normal? I'll soon see....

Views from Easter

 And so Lent ended as the holidays began and it has all been most mellow and even very sunny these last two days. I'm quite sure I've never had a sunhat on in April before. A week ago we celebrated one whole year in the Meadowplace. I still can't quite celebrate it enough in my head. It was such a wondrous time; it is still such a wondrous place to be.

 The local churches put together an amazing programme of events throughout Holy Week. We watched The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe at a family movie night on Monday, and I cried in all the places I always cry (Aslan on the table, and Aslan roaring at the end). On Tuesday night there was a family walk through Christ's journey to the Cross. This was brilliant. The local curate guided us through a series of multi-sensory activities and the depth of worship was incredible- and that was just the children. Prince Charming, with "Joshua" the curate, re-enacting the crucifixion above.

 I properly finished Mum's Camellia. It's to be wide enough and long enough to cover all of her for sofa-snoozes, without being wide enough to tangle her all up. All that hair has now been cut off, I'm glad to say.

 We've been out and about in the sunny sun this week. Making fine use of our National Trust membership at the Argory and Castle Ward. Today we were with New Cousin Em, and very exciting that was too.

 The over-riding verse I had in the God-story that was the move to this house was Psalm 37:5 Depend on the Lord; trust in him, and he will take care of you. Even down to the magnolia tree in the front garden. That wasn't on my deepest wish list, but there it is all the same, along with everything else that was the desire of my heart- privacy, space, downstairs possibilities for Mum and Dad.

On the day when we heard that we had the house I floated around on the first real experience I had of knowing without a doubt that God loved me. He loved me. It's good to remember that every now and again. It's one of those lessons that I learn and then forget. He takes care of me. And you xx

June

Welcome to your June! Do you have lots of lovely plans? We have a very busy month ahead, and I am feeling somewhat daunted! Underpinning all the frenetic events, however, are deep undercurrents of other things. Things shifting and elusive.

Like the fact that Mattman has only slightly more than one year left in Primary School.

Change is afoot. Happy June x

Nearly the weekend

Rend have released their first video from this winter's Campfire stuff. No sign yet of beach strawberries- but excitement mounts in the Land nonetheless!

September is a bit manic here. And there's a little something missing. Just a hole in the picture, which is generally happy and cosy and relaxed and good. But right in the middle there's an empty spot. Will be spending the weekend trying to decide what might fit!

Greatitudes 542 - 570

It generally all boils down to boys and buns here! Admittedly for most of the last week it has been about nothing much more than boys and bugs (of the tummy variety) but we are now all most well. And that is an extremely good thing. But otherwise there is nothing, still as yet nothing, quite as calming to a houseload of sun-filled, sun-stoked suns and other people's suns than a batch of buns and a table load of icing and things. This is another extremely good thing while it lasts. Friends of suns are also an extremely good thing. That's fabulous when going well. So well done to Troubled Sun for being nearly at the end of a trying year on the suns of other people front. I may have been a little bit blank to one of these people at the level crossing hiatus today. This is not an extremely good thing.

When do buns become cupcakes anyway? Is it when they are properly iced and enormous and you could look at them for a long time before daring to eat- with a small fork, obviously. We had lots of those, not made by me, at last week's Mums in May. Now this is a huge source of gratitude on my part. I managed to organise a Mothers' Union event. Phew. Slightly absolved after a year of inept muddling! More gratitudes- people came and brought friends, they all brought more food, they must each have donated double the suggested amount for the work of Irish MU, the sun shone and shone and shone! The sun has in fact just stopped shining, which is nearly a tiny relief given that we are people of a frozen clime and a fortnight of South of France temperatures is definitely more than Calvinists deserve!

Are YWAM folk Calvinists? I didn't get much of a grasp of the work they were doing out and about this week. We were hosting a little family, so Strawberry Land was wholly concerned with falling in love with Layna! Layna discovered Charlie and Lola, which was a fine excuse for me to sit down and revel in Lauren Child. Not that I ever need much of an excuse... Such a novelty to have a house full of something other than boys and buns.

Now the above illustrates what happens when actual cakes become cup cakes! We have decadently celebrated two Bean Birthdays in the last fortnight. We don't physically go to the Bean Coffee Shop for birthdays anymore- we take the birthday to crafting person's home and invade it and put up the personalised banners and eat the personalised cakes by Lorna, and eat all the other food we've brought as well. Sometimes we hook. Usually we just eat. It's like having your eighth birthday all over again, except that your brother doesn't pull your hair, or your best friend run off with your new Sindy. And you get to blow out the candle without having to light it again for your children. I love it! Happy Birthdays, Niqi and Cathy!

Hooray- the Willows have not only arrived safely at Carolyn's glorious place of Mess, Muddle and Fun, but they are exploring the Lake District too. Do visit and comment!

Now finally, Thrifty Thursday has a confession for the group. She has been most careful during this Year of Living Small, and it has indeed been a time of living very large in the wonderful provision of He who provides, and in the kindness of friends. She has shopped locally and cannily and kept within budgets. She has made do and tried to mend! She has used everything to hand, and has moved in an environmentally responsible manner. However. Due to the very wonderful amount of substitute teaching that she was given at just the right times, and having helped pay some big bills and taken the strawberries away at Easter for PC's birthday, Thrifty made a spontaneous decision. Do you remember those? You used to do them before you had children. Maybe you don't recall. It certainly took Thrifty by surprise, but believe me, given the right opportunity, you would be amazed at how fast you could text back simply, "Yes." No thought required!

Tune in next week. I'll be there before you, Willows!

Greatitudes 498 - 527

This week I am very grateful for Lent. The time where you clear a space to find more of God and He rushes straight in and says, "I'm here for you." Thoughts rush in too and so many of them are shared through Floss. This is a very special, and a very tangible, result of bloggisme! Thankful for pancakes and a husband who'll make them continually all week!

There is progress on the blanket, and it is slow and erratic, but as some of you so beautifully pointed out, where's the rush?! Its width is the perfect length for a sun who stands above my shoulder and it is now just deep enough for him to snuggle under!

However, today I am overwhelmingly grateful to Cooking Catherine for an invitation to join her on a duty weekend at the Corrymeela Community. Living in community fascinates me, because I am so bad at it! But in the Croi for worship, looking at the cushions so intricately laid out on the floor, I was struck by how they lay cheek and jowl, jostled by each other, rubbed by each other, uncomfortable maybe with each other. But there they were, laid out before the cross, and fit for purpose, getting the job done.

"Come for a weekend of peace and quiet," said Catherine. "Come and get your head showered." (Interesting Northern Irish? expression for clearing the mind- no doubt linked to climate!) So I took my crochet and my book and my Lent journal. And barely touched any of it- so much noise and bustle and tea to drink and food to eat and volunteers to chat to and jobs to be done and tea to drink and food to eat and noise and tea and food..... I had the most fun, genuine, belly laugh, laugh, laugh, laugh fun that I have had in ages!

I did also walk lots and lots yesterday and there was much time to breathe and look and stand in awe. This is a wondrous land.

Now. Confession. I am deeply, deeply grateful that he who was lost has been found! Bedraggled, paint that has run, bit grubby from his ordeal. Oh dear! The full sad tale will be told tomorrow- but Mole has had a real live dark and scary adventure!

Last Pause in Lent

So off set Cooking Catherine and I on Wednesday morning. Only half an hour later than we should have done to be there on time! There had been one sick child, one sick car, and one very sleeping-in me to contend with so that wasn't bad...

It was also the perfect introduction to the first section of the retreat day- well underway when we were ushered quietly in! Intentional Living- not stopping for any distraction on the path to the goal. Not settling into any stage other than transition. Setting our faces resolutely to Jersusalem, as He did, and becoming covered in the dust of our rabbi as we go.

The main wake-up call for me came in the idea of the Big Picture. Catherine and I had been laughing on the long drive up about how obsessed with your children you get. She thinks that I keep the Big Picture. I know that I don't- loving to talk about it isn't quite the same thing, methinks! Anyway, I was trying to draw this in my Lent journal in the first "quiet time". Then later, after we had laid tear drops prayers on the paper cross, I noticed that someone had written a prayer for those who have lost the big picture!

So as Holy Week begins, and I contemplate making an Easter picture day by day this week with suns, maybe, we could start with palm trees and dusty roads and see whose perspective we'll want to see with as we go.

Made with our crafty rector in Children's Church today- thanks, Arlene!

Bon Weekend, and Happy You Know What!

God is Heaven and you are on earth, so let your words be few.