Experiments in body clock

I know you're all faithfully and fruitfully attending Zumba and Pilates, or running marathan practice routes round the village every night before tea, but I've decided to address the tricky issue of not being able to go to bed early or get up on time the next morning. Obviously I need to change my body clock.

We read this article in the library one night last week, and it all seems very reasonable to me. I have been getting to bed early- between 11 and midnight this week, but have slept fitfully through the whole night. I always wake up slowly and sluggishly, and am never a happy girl! I realise that this is known by the technical term of sloth.

Last night we had progress. I went to bed straight after the boys. Admittedly PC was out at The Rugby, and we all know how long that takes. (Slightly less long than work "lunches".) I slept really well until 1.30am when I woke up very clearly and came downstairs for toast and a little study of Proverbs Woman- there is a reason for this other than madness. I went back to bed an hour later and slept really well until 7.30am when I got up wholly unmolested and decided to go out to rugby with the men. There was no reason for this other than madness, and indeed I relented on arrival and sat in the car listening to Radio 4.

The main disadvantage to this experiment so far seems to lie in the risk involved in using a serrated knife to slice Veda at 1.30am when your eyes haven't fully opened yet. I have also had to forego a cycling trip on the Shore this afternoon so that I could lie under a blanket on the sofa imbibing Battle Hymn of the Tiger Mother. The main advantage has been the laugh out loud, at 1.30am, hilarity of reading Proverbs 31:15 straight after you've put porridge in the pot for breakfast the next/that very same morning. Minus the servant girls, you understand. This is the Year of Living Small.

There have been other breakthroughs this week. Pom Pom received her prize for guessing that Angela was here engaged on a craft activity- revealing invisible Egyptian ink, to be precise.

Then finally the dB Family have won the scary book- maybe they should save it for dark nights next winter, since Spring seems most certainly to have sprung. Mind you, given how long the stickers took to get to Denver, the book might not arrive in Canada until then, Deborah...

I am, by the way, loving Battle Hymn- funny, tongue-in-cheek, much more self-critical than the furore at the time gave Chua credit for, I think. But I tell you what, there will be way more push in this house from now on. Next week. When I get my body clock sorted out!

Leap Day at Aunt Sandra's

A few weeks ago my uber-beautiful friend K told me about a Radio 4 article that suggested using the whole free extra day of 29th February to do something you've been meaning to do for ages. So I took the boys, and the suns, to see Aunt Sandra's Sweetie Factory.

It's there, as tiny and as Aladdin-worthy as apparently it was in 1953 when it opened. When you walk in you have to stop and breathe deeply of the baked sugar before you can quite concentrate on the floor to ceiling array of it all!

Obviously you must have a golden ticket to proceed and obviously Uncle David is actually Willie Wonka's cousin.

He demonstrated the pouring of candy...

...the moulding of candy in their one hundred- year old machine...

...and the stretching of candy- can you hear it pop and creak and fizz?

We really could not decide what we should bring home. (Though a careful head-count was done at the door.)

In the little factory we lost count of shamrock lollies getting ready to traverse the globe, which made the Willows feel quite the experienced travellers.

And so home, laden with wonderment (and much baked sugar). We drove in the car. Toad beat us by half an hour on Aunt Sandra's moped. I don't think he forced any caravans off the road?

Postcards from the Edge

Dear Pom Pom,

We have settled most satisfactorily into our latest little home. I have found a book with a whole section on water! Oh the rivers of Ireland, Pom Pom, are fine and flowing things. One is so black and so deep and so sleek that it reminded me vividly of dear Otter. Mags says that the salmon leap there, and men seek their knowledge. Close by we visited the spectacular Giants' Causeway, and Mags held on tightly to us, so heavy was the rain becoming and so shaken were we all by Mole's adventure. I'll let him tell his own tale. Hope all is well and happy with you? Our own book is a wonderful thing to behold now!

Well, Pom Pom, greetings from Ireland- it is certainly very agricultural and in places suburban. But there is exciting potential- do you see the title of this book? It has been done! Round Ireland with a fridge! I say! Mags' own fridge seems quite too permanently installed to be of use, sadly.

I must complain, Pom Pom, of Mole's behaviour recently. He has become quite, quite ridiculously unpredictable. Careering off into the dark without a word to anyone and causing all sorts of fuss and panic. Do send him a word of admonishment. Who knows what will become of us if he keeps this up- we have a quite a way to go, you know.

Mags took us to the very edge of the land at the weekend, and it was most pleasingly grand. Don't you think I am looking remarkably dapper after all this globetrotting? Shame Mole can't say the same, ha ha!

Dearest Pom Pom, how are you? Congratulations on the latest addition to your most lovely family. Mags showed us the photographs. I fear I gave her the most dreadful scare at the weekend, but secretly to you I can confess what a thrilling time I had!

I know she didn't at all mean to drop me from her bag. She was really quite preoccupied at the time. She was hurrying from a shop where she had spent quite some considerable time, and was talking to her (fine) husband on her phone and rummaging for her car keys at the same time. I am hoping to spring clean that bag sometime soon.

All was well in the end. I didn't lie in the middle of the street for too many hours, and it wasn't Mags' fault that it started to rain. Some of the local Wombles did shuffle along after dark to ask if I wanted to join them in their burrow for some hot berry juice and a nice forty winks, but I trusted that Mags would return. And she did! And really, I'm sure those lovely volunteers at the Corrymeela Community had much better things to do than worry about me, but I was very touched by their kind concern.

Best wishes to you and our faraway home. Please pass on our deepest, most humble thanks to all the wonderful families who have hosted us thus far. We are having a fine time!

Emily, USA; Emily, Canada; Catherine, Germany; Matt, USA- thank you!

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!

Valour

I thought we were starting with valour, and had already decided to find a Rend song to go with each of the Cardinal Virtues this Lent. So here is Cost! In apology for using all these Youtube steals, I would state that we have bought both albums, and you should too! Pay special attention to the wonderful Northern Ireland pronunciation of "counting"!

Poor Ratty

He has Toad on one side telling him that this is not at all suitable accommodation for a toad of his standing and brave Mole on the other organising lists of tidying and dusting and washing and ironing and sorting and mending and fixing and...

Maybe they're just a tad tetchy after their long flight, though Frances did ensure that they had fabulous reading matter! I'm taking them away for the rest of the weekend. Giants await!

The Willows (may) have landed!

It is so spring-like today that the down jacket has not been out of the house and I wore shoes instead of boots for the first time since September! So, for their third country and second continent I am deciding that we can call this their third season of travels! I think the Willows may be on the island of Ireland! As I was out today, however, I missed the nice man in a van from Royal Mail who left his calling card. The only package I'm expecting is one full of a Grand Tour of the Whole World so I shall be going back to my nice friend on the hilltop tomorrow.

Hopefully a night's incarceration will not seem too much of an anti-climax after a trans-Atlantic flight and their daring escape from North Carolina- but I fear I will have much making up to do! Oh the pressure- below the highlights of their American Adventures- with joyous thanks to their hostesses!

Fast cars and a loose (Barbie) woman in Canada.

Churning butter in Oregon, amidst palatial splendour.

Back to beloved willows- but in Minnesota they are mystical ancient swamp willows!

Pooh Sticks in Appalachian mountain streams, and another charming young lady.

Fast cars and a glimpse of home at DISNEYLAND, FLORIDA for Christmas.

Held hostage in North Carolina. Biblical nature of escape most pleasing! For a full reminder of their adventures hitherto click on the links at the top right of fraise. Look out, County Antrim- here they come!