Reported Possible 1 in 10 Children in the Netherlands abused by Catholic Priests

Today, I heard the sobering news broadcast on Radio 4, as above but no details (I don't want to know the details, pray for the suffering who have been victim to this heinous crime.) I honestly wonder whether paedophiles have some form of hidden career adviser telling them that Catholic Priest is the number one career to go for.

I can't understand it...UK, Ireland, Germany, and now the Netherlands..Forgive me for missing any countries out, I'm just quoting the news broadcasts of the past year and a half.

This is another devastating knock on the Catholic Church. I'm not alone in finding paedophilia the most sickening of habits of the human race, preying on the weak and vulnerable. Suffocating and disabling those who should be nurtured and helped to develop in the best of ways. And the Catholic Church (like any Church) is a flag holder for children, as in the bible.

Catholicism is a faith which I find addictive, ingrained in me. Selfishly, the comfort of the words of the creed and the beauty of the music of the Mass is an indulgence. But I find myself talking to friends who are not Catholics but are committed to their faith in God, and feel a certain dismissal, a polite nod and no comments, when (and why do I do this?) feel I have to say, 'Well, I'm Catholic so we attend this church'. It's almost as if King Hal was breathing over my shoulder!

God intended unity for the human race, and it's hard enough with our (sometimes rather awful) human nature. But you would expect those with faith to, if not do really well, but not have strange sexual leanings...or if they do, avoid the admission into priesthood. I know that paedophiles do head towards professions where they have easy access to children (priesthood being an easy target), but I feel that those around them, surely, should try really really hard to pick up on those who are not using the sacred sacrament of priesthood in the right way.

I really wonder whether I should be putting my trust into the faith I was baptised into, much as I love it. I would be so happy for my sons to be alter servers, but can I really leave my boys alone for 2 minutes in the care of the workers for my given faith? I feel sorry for my parish priests, who I feel are trustworthy. This is another hard day for the Catholic faith, and I feel that our faith is truly degraded by the actions of those who do not deserve the sacrament of priesthood, and by the inertia of the Vatican.

History of the Bible Resource for Older Children and the Young at Heart

I've been looking at lots of children's books lately, visited a religious book shop and browsed in a few online shops. There are some really sumptuous books around, which is the reason why the e-reader will never conquer the printed word.

I would rather have a beautifully crafted book than any number of jewels and have to really stop myself from overindulging, especially in the discount bookshops that are all around, where you feel justified in a couple of purchases due to the discount. Market stalls are bad for me in this way too.

There are some wonderful bible resources, especially for younger children, but how do you interest an older child who may not have had any previous interest or teaching in the Christian faith?

Here's how...some snappy and straight to the point bulletins of information, with modern and humerous illustrations. I have attached some of the work of Mike Dalby, and there will be more to follow....watch this space.

Advent

This year, more of us are feeling the pinch. For the first time in my life, I'm not earning an income due to redundancy (voluntary, but the pressure was on). Not complaining, there are far worse off than me and I never lose resourcefullness in case of the possibility of famine.

This year there seems more and more awful adverts on kids tv, pressuring parents to buy, buy, buy. And our instincts make us not want to have the child who is laughed at at school for not having the latest so-and-so. I was one of those who sorely felt the unkind remarks, having old school and not so well off parents, and was the laughing stock in my old fashioned shoes and plaits.

But I feel I have the last laugh now, having had good ethics taught to me, and which have made me stronger in the face of adversity.

Here are a couple of great examples of the feeling of many of us who want to reject the soulless and commercial Christmas sold to us by profit grabbing companies churning out stuff to divert our children from the true meaning of Christ's official birthday.....they were created by my newly aquainted minister of our local Family Centre Church, Mike Dalby (who is a 'capital fellow', as quoted in any good Charles Dickens novel.)

Banned Lynx Ads, not before time.

To the outcry from people who think all women who object to the Lynx ads are lesbians or crotchety old maids with vinegar for blood, I answered in this way;

Glad they've been banned, a certain percentage of the population will be disappointed, though. I don't want my sons to grow up with the idea that all women are good for is bending over an oven door with her baps out.

As someone who struggled with the pressures of premature sexuality, and think pressures today are far worse, I ended up as a professional and independent woman, with no help from the media.

If men want to look at titillating stuff let them buy a mag or a dvd; why should the entire population have it shoved down their throats? We don't have national pride or religion shoved down our throats, Oh no, this would be seen as offensive!

Maybe it's time we got a few moral values straight around here.

Some people don't appear to know what they want. They want to salivate and talk about women in one sense, then we are called insulting names if women oblige vacant and shallow fancies. And then called names if women object! Make your minds up.

Some comments stated unfairness, harking back to the coke ad, where women in an office were waiting for the hunky window cleaner to arrive outside their window. Apart from the fact that this ad must have been around 20 plus years ago?? I agree, why should there be any sexual exploitation going on at all? Although I must say I think it's more heavily weighted in the female direction as a generalisation.

 The old chestnut of, 'you must be a lesbian or an old maid to object to female exploitation', makes me smile...I expect there are any number of lesbians who don't mind a bit of female flesh on view...and old maids, well, what have they got to lose? 

Horrid Henry etc..Childrens' Books Today

I've felt a rant coming on for a couple of days..after hearing the author of the Horrid Henry books on Desert Island discs, R4. Sounds a really educated woman (Cambridge graduate).  Not sure if she has kids, she didn't mention any in the short time I had to listen. Somehow think she surely can't have children, hmm.

I felt The Rage was when she replied to the interviewer, after being asked if she got bad feedback from parents saying that they disapproved of Horrid Henry's ways.
She said, no not at all, in fact they actually liked Henry, and disliked his brother perfect Peter, who is really good in the story. She continued, in further reply, that there is a Horrid Henry in all of us, I mean, who hasn't, like Henry said/thought, 'What an awful present so and so has just given me....why don't they just give me the money?'
.....See what I mean? If my boys came out with that one I would go hairless! Brings me back to a previous R4 programme, which was a discussion about morals and the sense of entitlement which seems now to be rooted in British society (an import from the USA I think, and funnily enough the authoress I speak of is a yankee).

Great shame, and I can foresee battles ahead for me, because I will not be buying, or reading Horrid Henry to my boys. Guess she has no negative feedback from parents because the ones who, like me, don't like this brand of disrespect being poured into our youngsters brains, wouldn't bother to give feedback, but carry on reading the many good books there are available.

Having said this, I bought a job lot of 'Horrible' books, in anticipation for my 5 year old's later understanding, as I've seen a couple of the programmes and think they're very funny.
 Upon reading a few pages of the Horrible History books, I found things here that I disliked...disrespect for adults (especially older people), unbalanced views on various parts of history, and (I always feel uneasy about this, having skimmed a few older kids books which have a bit of a 'teenage before I'm ready' theme) stating that Church and school are boring...well if the child thought these life experiences weren't boring before, they sure will now, won't they?

I have to accept the fact that I'm now 40 (ancient) and as a youngster, read every one of Enid Blytons' books. I think now many of them must be almost incomprehensible to kids, unless they go to a boarding school? I also read a vast array of different types of books, but none of which I can remember preaching anti establishment, or disrespectful stuff. I cannot remember my choices being censored by my mother, apart from not being allowed certain girls mags which promoted kissing and boyfriends.

I swiftly disposed of a younger children's book a while ago, too. It was a story about a gorilla who comes into a little girls' bedroom and invites her on a trip to the zoo. She was scared at first but (picture opposite text, rear view of gorilla in rainmac, holding little girl-in-nighties' hand. Can you visualise what I was thinking?)...but had a great time at the zoo with new friend. Just the kind of thing I really really don't want my kids to think is ok.. I skimmed it and slung it.

I feel quite angry that some adults are teaching children the wrong social habits by what they write.
I will be pre-reading any choices made in the next few years when it comes to children's books. As if we don't already have enough problems with the telly!

Saying that, I don't know if I've mentioned complaining to R3 around a year ago. On the way back from Mass one Sunday evening,  lovely mass on Radio 3 and hymns, very relaxing. The next minute, not even realising the programme had ended and a drama had come on, a man shouting 'F**k' harshly and loudly jarred the atmosphere in the car.

Really annoyed because my two small sons were in the back, we swiftly switched over. The answer I got back from the Beeb was that there is no watershed on radio (the time had been well before 9pm). Very good of them to inform me of that, and I've been wary of the station ever since.

Operation Christmas Child, Liberia, Hotel Rwanda

It's good if every day brings a new smile, lesson and experience. In the same week I watched a programme about a midwife from the uk spending 2 weeks in a hospital in Liberia..it was such a touching programme, I stayed up late to watch because it was worth the exhaustion and broken sleep later.  Then, many years after buying the dvd and not watching it, I watched Hotel Rwanda at the weekend. Gosh, I really did sob at this film.

My reverance for a film is rated by how much I cry to it. I cannot really cry to such stuff as Four weddings and a funeral, and prefer the mock up version of; 3 fights, 2 weddings and a funeral, by Steve Cougan. However, I am a real bore, and only really enjoy films with a decent historical, political, social or moral message. Eeek, I thought turning into my Mum was scary, but even this is kind of worse but I just can't help it.

If you havn't watched Hotel Rwanda, you have missed out and need to be updated on social injustice recently and that which will always be, without decent democratic government and a moral code. I've always felt a little cold towards the big Charities, because of their high administration costs, but if this is the only supply to help these helpless and proud people then this must be the way until we can produce a more personal way of contibuting to people...there but by the grace of God go I.

Operation Christmas Child is one perfect way of directly giving a bit of a surprise and hopefully a lot of fun to children who basically have very little. Humbling, in our society where we frequently over compensate for lack of time, and guiltily buy overpriced, and over indulgent toys for our kids, who mostly do not appreciate or play with them. Small shoeboxes, how much can we cram into a small space?

Toothbrush, soap, head band and hairclips, little ballerina skirt and a cuddly toy for a girl, the same for a boy, excpet it's a ball, a small meccano kit, hat and gloves, sunglasses and cap and sweets for both, whatever we can find, simple.

Local churches are taking surplus stuff, and inviting helpers to pack boxes if you have a spare hour or two.

You can pay postage of £2.50 online, and actually track where your own personally packed parcel goes, be it the Crimea, Africa, India, etc.

God Bless all who read this.

Red Arrows, Chatsworth Country Fair

I took the boys today, to the best show I've seen for ...well, decades, being a bit of a wrinkly at 40. It was massive and we just didn't manage to get round it in the 6 hours we spent there.

I was really excited and emotional to behold the Red Arrows...(imagine being in that position, we are not worthy!! etc..especially for the tribute shown to Jon Egging who died on 20th August. I have so much admiration for the team, and much was made of the lady member, all credit to her (I think you have to prove yourself doubly as a woman in this kind of situation, so she much be an exceptional person, along with the rest of the team and all involved.

We used to go to Finningley to see them every year back in the day. They were as stunning as expected and my littlest one was beside himself with joy watching. I don't know whether my older one really took it all in, as I kept having to nudge him during the lapses when the display team went away and came back with their new formation, but we all had an idyllic day.

Then there was the Household Cavalry, again, a spectacular sight. Then more, near the end of the day, when 5 did a 'freefall', from the Princess of Wales' Battalion. An amazing and emotional day. Boys loved it as much as I did.

I was trying to control the emotion inside me all day, but was really tearful. Feel much of the time (apart from my loved ones and friends) it's a dark world with so much negativity, evil, indifference to the the decline in moral and social standards and worship of all things shallow.  Here, today were bright and shining examples of all Britain's greatest attributes. Here it was clear to see real talent, hard work, focus, determination, dedication, perseverance, team spirit, humility, tradition, pride not in self, but in the greater good for all.

It's easy to believe that most of the pilots and service people in the Cavalry etc, of all ranks, have priveleged backgrounds. But when you look at who they actually are, you realise that this is not the case and everone has a fair shot, if they have what it takes. My heart bursts to think good really does overcome the negative, the dreary and the apathetic themes of the news programmes each night.

Trying to create a link to the Telegraph video of it, which is really good... how on earth do I do it?, help! Anyhow, look at today's Telegraph/BBC webpage and the pictures on the Chatsworth Country Fair website and you're sure to be impressed.

The loaves and the fish

Whenever I've read the story of the loaves and the fishes, I've wondered about the circumstances which led to it. Was it really a complete miracle, where the meagre amount of food stretched to 5000 people? I think the 5000 people listening to Jesus that day was in itself a huge coup for the cause of Christianity, or even Judaism in biblical times.

Today I've cooked a meal for our family on my husband's birthday, 10 people, including 4 children (a bit of a cheat, but hey, kids are hungry creatures!) So on request from my husband to do a simple chili & tacos I started out with two packs of mince, garlic & seasoning, tin of toms and left to simmer...then I added more toms and veg, simmered further and separated some to a 'kids pot' and added hot spices and beans to the 'grownups pot'...then I added a tin of chicken curry, a tin of beans and yet more toms...etc etc, yawn, to the grownups pot too. Huge pot of rice and 2 packets of tacos. Relatively unplanned, pile of tins of the side, quite embarrassing really for the claim of a home-made chili, but seemed to go down well and my 5 year old boy said it was the best tea he could think of...

Which has made me wonder if the fishes and the loaves actually came about through the community spirit of people wanting to stay and listen to Jesus and making impromptu rushes away from the site to bring refreshments to family and friends.

We will never know.....but I feel it's ok to speculate, and would not detract from the phenomena of Jesus' influence.

Movie and other Media Age Ratings for Children Not OK

Is it really deemed to be of no effect that a 5 yrear old has viewed and played age innapropriate console games and seen a movie aged PG13+, meaning, 'Consider whether you're going to let you're 13 year old+ watch this'....and means not suitable for a 5 year old. See Commonsense Media for reviews.

People with children aged 16 had walked out of a 13+ movie due to the total lack of suitability for children. I then watched some clips and this confirmed that this is not a film I would have in the house, even for adults. This was echoed in the reviews by several parents.

But amazed me was the number of people who had actually taken under 13 year olds and then complained about it...to quote one, ''A.N. other' actress oiled up and sexy was not what my 6 year old needed to see'.

Whether it was sexualised content, violence, swearing or plain bad content/plot/role models, what is the shock in finding a film rated much older than the child unsuitable?

It goes on from there...'Bloody war violence', certificate 18 is not suitable for 5 or 6 year olds and really, how can anyone misunderstand why not?...Because of stupidity, lack of responsibility or just complete lack of consideration, to the child they are exposing it to.

The incidence of children being exposed to usuitable media is now a huge problem. What is going to cure the problem of the lack of supervision, and the word, 'No' from feeding the 'supply and demand' chain of the media makers from making the garbage and raking it in?

I can say 'No', but am prevented from protecting this child when he is not with his responsible and loving family.
Must be a problem echoed in courts up and down the country, courts that are not receptive to the problems which have created the Big Society and questions as to why today's youth is so disaffected in parts...maybe it is not to do with Broken Britain, ie broken families, but the actual quality of care the child gets in the clutches of those who do not really give a hoot about the effects on children or what they take in from the media.

Another wave of screwed up kids on the way, Prime Minister......I wonder what the verdict will be in 10 years time, and will the law be the same ass as it always has been.

Being Brave Souls and solving this would pave the way for better things to come, would that Doing the Right Thing was the real issue, instead of that which gains in a monetary sense from the European Union...oh, and lawyers lining their pockets, plus judges who do not have the blindest clue (should they for one minute care) about the connotations of what is to become of the children they make sweeping judgements about in court.

Priesting in a New World

This article (see below) is over a year old, but was printed off and inserted in today's bulletin at Mass. It must be a reflection of how our parish priest must be feeling (and he always does seem anxious, tired and overworked. Having recently had surgery, he is still running 3 parish churches. Wow, is all I can say, as I have no idea what this involves, but here we have an insight;

Wednesday, April 21, 2010

Priesting in a new world
By Fr Brendan Hoban

'A RELIC of the Curé (parish priest) of Ars is coming to Knock.

The Curé (or St John Vianney) was a parish priest in Ars, near Lyons in France, who was renowned for his piety – particularly for spending long hours in the confessional. He struggled to reach the academic standards in the seminary and, for some years, there was a doubt about whether he would ever be ordained.

However, after ordination and an appointment to Ars, he became famous throughout France and the Christian world. At one point the number of pilgrims coming to Ars had reached 20,000 a year.

A simple, gentle, patient and cheerful man, he was canonised in 1905 and proposed as given the title ‘Patron Saint of Parish Priests’. He’s in the news again because last June, when Pope Benedict opened ‘The Year of Priests’, he again proposed John Vianney as a model for priesthood. Hence, the decision to celebrate the Year of the Priest by bringing his relics to Knock and other venues.

I must admit my heart sank when I heard that the Curé of Ars was re-proposed as a model for priests in 2009. While I have nothing but admiration for the saintly Curé, what worked as a model for priesthood in 1905 hardly responds to the needs of our vastly different context for priesting in the 21st century.

It seems starkly obvious that dusting off a century-old model and refurbishing it for modern times wouldn’t work with the old Ford Model T and won’t work with the gentle Curé. What, . Trying to ride the same horse going in different directions.

We are expected to be approachable, sensitive, caring and available, inspiring leaders, competent administrators, good organisers, able preachers, involved with schools, organisations, committees, visiting the housebound, kind to the old, concerned about the young, sensitive to everyone and to be available to everyone all the time.

On top of that we have to deal with a series of complex pastoral situations, expected to respond to the complicated needs of people in the world today while at the same time implementing a series of often impractical norms and regulations from bishops who are at a safe distance from parish life and officials in Rome who never worked a day in a parish in their lives. And then if the priest doesn’t get it right a self-appointed nest of aggressive reactionary ultra-conservative Catholics are at hand to point out the errors of our waWe are caught in a kind of stereo world, and are not quite sure where the sounds are coming from or even sometimes what they mean. On the one hand we listen to ‘the signs of the times’ and respond to the needs of his people, including openness to lay involvement and sensitivity to people’s experiences and needs; and, on the other hand, we operate a hierarchical and patriarchal system of implicit control. Trying to ride the same horse going in different directions.

We are expected to be approachable, sensitive, caring and available, inspiring leaders, competent administrators, good organisers, able preachers, involved with schools, organisations, committees, visiting the housebound, kind to the old, concerned about the young, sensitive to everyone and to be available to everyone all the time.

On top of that we have to deal with a series of complex pastoral situations, expected to respond to the complicated needs of people in the world today while at the same time implementing a series of often impractical norms and regulations from bishops who are at a safe distance from parish life and officials in Rome who never worked a day in a parish in their lives. And then if the priest doesn’t get it right a self-appointed nest of aggressive reactionary ultra-conservative Catholics are at hand to point out the errors of our ways or report us to our bishop and to Rome.

Who, in his right mind, would want to find himself trying to respond to such competing and conflicting expectations? And with little or no appreciation of or training for such complex and demanding work. And, at the same time, to be forever on duty – living over the shop, as it were – and often living isolated and lonely lives, while colleagues leave for more satisfying climes and bishops and popes lob advice at us from the far distance. Is it any wonder we have few vocations? Isn’t the big wonder not that so many have left the priesthood but that so many of us are still hanging in there? Is it any wonder that so many of us are tired, tired, tired?

On top of all of that priests have become bad news. Unfairly and discouragingly, though understandably, all priests have had to bear the burden and the stigma of the clerical child sexual abuse scandals, in a way for example that teachers haven’t to bear vocational responsibility for the failures of an equivalent tiny minority of their colleagues. And, of course, as the priest is the easiest clerical target to get on the public radar, we are now endlessly humiliated and disparaged in the media and, if the truth be told, the butts of endless jokes about our sexual lives.

Priests – many of them suffering from overwork, lack of energy, confusion and burnout with little sense of support in or understanding of their plight – are now beginning to wonder is there anyone left on their side anymore.

Last Sunday as I bought an item in a shop the owner took my money, gave me the change and then handed me €20 and said, “You’re having a hard time of it, buy something for yourself”. The sudden gesture of disinterested kindness left me speechless and afterwards as I examined my own attitude to it I was struck by how much it meant to me and how vulnerable I was.

To tell you the truth I don’t think Pope Benedict has any idea about what’s happening to priests in the world: that we’re struggling to pastor our people in a complex and difficult world where old answers make no sense to new questions; that we find ourselves in a place we’ve never been before and we wonder, sometimes fearfully, about when or if we will emerge from the bleakness; that we’re disappearing and will be effectively gone in 20 years, unless the priesthood is reimaged and re-invented for a different world; that we need to examine issues like the ordination of women, celibacy and priesthood; and that encouraging us to be like the Curé of Ars seems like a last straw that might break many a camel’s back. And many a priest’s spirit.

I don’t expect to be in Knock for the relics of the Curé of Ars. The implications are just too depressing to contemplate.'

......What a huge shame. The dissilusionment of the writer in this article is palpable. Having just read it and having never before heard of Fr Hoban, it appears that he is a strong voice and head of the Catholic Priest Association. The thought of no priests, and no Catholic church is a frightening thought, to me, and watching our congregation today, to many others. There are not many Catholic churches in our area, but they are well used and maintained. The priests do seem slightly strained and/or, 'at arms length' when you exchange words after mass. The parish priest I mentioned at first, who seems about to buckle under the pressure at any time, is the warmest and gentlest man you could meet. I guess the heavy burdens of the parish weigh heavily on him.

Pope Ratzinger is a very intelligent, educated man, and a prolific writer. It would seem that he needs to seriously look at the way things are 'on the street' and act on this.

Religious Relics - Treasures of Heaven (BBC4) - revised post

There was a stunning programme, which I watched on Sunday, having missed Mass for the first time in ages. It was about religious reliquary, and was on BBC 4, well worth a watch. It's about an hour long.

I was glued to it, but most most moved by the story of the assassination of Archbishop (The Most Reverend) Oscar Romaro of San Salvador, who spoke against the Salvadoran government in the 70's, when there was a major public uprising, savagely squashed by the government, who ordered the army to kill protestors out of hand. There is a clip of him quoting 'Thou shalt not kill' and telling soldiers they had no duty to obey an order which is against the law of God.

Romero was shot the next day in Church (24 March 1980), after speaking the sermon of the grains of wheat. The sermon was very apt, the grain of wheat may die but bring forth many sheaves of wheat. He knew he was about to die.

I have read more, and would like to devote a post to him, in the hope of introducing him to more people, as I unexpectedly was. The lady (interviewed in the programme, a scientist) who had much to do with preparing a shrine for him, containing his bloodstained alb and chasuble, was clearly very invested in him and said that she wanted people to be aware and to learn more about this man. There is an icon being made by a South Amerian artist which shows the story of his death; this entire shrine being a modern religious relic. http://www.bbc.co.uk/programmes/b012248j. It's only on for 5 more days on iplayer.

PS One thing that did slightly irk me was that the presenter did state a couple of times that Catholics 'worship' saints. I think a huge chasm between the CofE and Catholics, created by Henry 8th and still remains to this day is founded on many myths and misconceptions about Catholic worship (which in essence is not really that much different to Cof E if we're talking about being Christian as opposed to anything else).

Please do note that the late Catholic Saint John Henry Newman started out as a Calvinist, became an Anglican scholar and high accademic/tutor at Oxford University, slating the Catholic faith as idolatrous and being degrading, but then on actually researching and becoming enlightened in the truth of the faith and the creed, converted to Catholocism.

Catholics are taught that we do not worship anyone but God (the Holy Trinity) and we indulge in the adoration of Our Lady, this is the reality. If we were to learn more about the truth of the differences between the Church divisions, and put aside the atrocities committed by anyone who claimed/claims religious cause, we may be far more successful in out efforts to gain in the ecumenical church today, which is what I think God is really aiming for.

I really think that if we are happy with out own beleifs and accept that others may have different ones, and that whoever we call God is the same one, then we would all probably argue alot less over something that God really did not intend us to argue over. I love the Catholic Mass and although I enjoy my son's CofE school Mass, I will stick to the Catholic Mass, I identify so much with it. But Judaism, Hinduism, Buddhism, Sikhism, and the Muslim faith are all positive and wonderful if used in the right way. It's human fault that spoils religion, not religion itself.

New Beginnings, For me and our Bird table.

Hurrah, Thursday was my last day in my job, 24 years after joining on a YTS at 16 years old, I have broken loose. It was wierd, I was tense all week but on the last day, although felt lots of affection for my long time colleagues, no regrets or sadness. I felt more upset today about it if anything although not sad to not be going in next week!
I've been very busy watching and feeding the wild birds in the garden lately...a nest of chicks fell on the floor when my husband was tree pruning and to see them so tiny, scrawny and vunerable made my maternal hormones kick in like mad. Hence now the cost of feeding an increasing fan club of the bird table has become a little eye popping. In addition to this, the biggest fattest squirrel I've ever seen visited the other day. He had an undeniable grin on his face, amazed at his good fortune..it was as if he's happened upon an oasis. A squirrel surely can't do too badly in the wild, but easy pickings or what. Well, my baking disasters also end up on the table, it's great to see them being demolished and enjoyed. This would not be possible by human consumption.
The son of the big fat squirrel visited today too. He's smaller but not shy at all. I thought he was a bit cheeky so I knocked on the window to shoo him away. In addition to this, some bigger birds are coming and chasing away the little ones. I'm a bit concerned by this, as the table is really for the small birds and fledglings. There are some really tiny balls of feathers hanging on there much of the time. So need to research about a mini scarecrow to fit on a bird table, or a sign which says, 'Big bullies keep off!', in bird language. Hmmm.

New legislation for advertising?

I've just watched some videos on the next blog to mine..family videos where the author is unafraid to film his young grandchildren. It was wholesome stuff, and being in the US , no teenage cleavages on view or mini skirts for 7 year olds as you are constantly bomabarded with in the street in the UK. I am aware that there are unscrupulous and evil people out there who expose children, with and without the consent of parents. I would never film or identify my kids on my blog, or anywhere on the internet.

Apparently there are enough parents out there to have made a tiny impact on what is shown on tv and advertising. I have complained on a few occasions about advertising (as being too sexualising for children) and have only once made an impact. I got some adverse reactions to this by people who I feel were either too naive or inexperienced to gather the reasons for my approach to the complaint. According to what I have just heard, it's a matter of months before ther govenrnment enforces some stricter rules about what is shown in advertising and on tv. Amen to that, brother.

Benjamin Ferencz - SS Prosecutor

It's taken a few weeks to get back to the Sunday morning Radio 4 article that I listened to in awe. I could listen to this soundbite over and over, this man gives you the feeling of goodness and belief in the right things, makes you feel that you are not really on your own in your tussles with your faith.

I have no idea if this man believes in God but whether he does or not, he is truly good. At 91, his speech and articulation and intelligence, besides his self assurance make me feel like a gibbering fool. I could only ever hope to have this clarity of conveyance.

His description of the Nazi death camps were graphic, but even he said that words could never describe the horror, and it was like peering into hell. I've visited Anne Franks house in Amsterdam and watched the films there. I had to leave sobbing and will never forget what I saw. Even watching such films as Saving Private Ryan, where the boy dies, crying for his mother, are extremely emotional. At least he is surrounded by his friends who stroke his head and face and give him pain killers. Plenty die alone, calling for Mum, in agony. This has got to be one of the most huge anxiety for any mother (and there are plenty of others). God Bless all soldiers.

Gypsy Boy - Mikey Walsh

The Choice, on Radio 4, hypnotic listening this morning about a man who is a Romany gypsy but who lived a very hard childhood in his community because of the expectations and temper of his father. It was almost like going through therapy with him, as he answered questions about his life.

In short (and I will read the book, I've already flicked a couple of pages in Waterstones) the boy was expected to be a fighter like his con man father. The family had a reputation as fighters.
Reminded me of a couple if guys in the church the other week. The were tapping and chatting to everyone throughout the service. I was hoping that my son would not take this as being ok. One of them, in front of me in the line to Communion, turned and remarked that he's not seen us before, and asked if we were new. I just nodded & smiled and he replied, 'You'll get used to us....we're a Family', he emphasised, spreading his hands as if he might have instead meant the mafia..unfortunately, yes, the Romany community do get confused with bad 'uns, because the only contact the general community has with them is usually through the process of getting ripped off re. dodgy drive laying etc. and no other example shown. I'm sure this is a very disproportionate view.
Unfortunately for the boy, he did not live up to his father's expectations, and didn't respond to his father's 'toughening up' procedures as hoped. He is, in fact, gay, and could not have been worse placed as this society does not accept homosexuality. He had a really miserable time, although bitter sweeet as he still has much love and respect for his Romany community, although The Choice he made was to leave the unbearable endurances which were unending. Regular beatings were understandably wearing thin. He'd met someone who wanted to save him, although, he was only around 15+ years old and the man did not understand that to take the son of the hard man of the local Romanies would mean much misery for him. It took 3 weeks for him to give up and then he took Gypsy boy to another town and 'dropped him off'.

Now here is the remarkable thing. This boy had the Romany way entrenched into him. He was little educated. He had no-one and nothing. The boy got a job in a burger bar and went to the bank to open an account to have wages paid in. He had no former address. He explained his plight to the bank worker and she took pity and used her own address to get him an account, Bless her for that!!

He did not wallow, he got up off his backside and educated himself. He applied for a place at a Royal renowned arts and drama college and actually got in, flippin 'eck more than I could hope for with my stable background! He was trained for 3 years and wrote his book.

Hearing him speaking so low because he was sobbing was so very touching. I am a champion of the underdog, for life, having seen the struggles of my blessed parents. I have so much respect for him, and it just shows how amazing people with no priveliges and rotten role models can be the strongest. this man deserves health, happiness and success.

Out of the mouths of babes...

My sons keep me chuckling, even when I least expect it. The other day I stuck some lovely animal stickers on the wall next to the little one's cot. They are padded ones, slightly sparkly and brightly coloured. He has of course picked most off by now but hey ho. My 5 year old came in to look at the newly stuck stickers and said,'Ooo, animals, there's a funny flower, a lion, a Zoo sign and an elephant with a dead giraffe on it's back ..(deadpan).
I laughed as I had previously thought that the spotted blanket on the elephant's back did look like a dead giraffe but perished the thought.

Last night I was getting in my jamas whilst bathing the 2 boys and my 5 year old asked, 'What are you doing, Mummy?'
'Putting cream on to make my skin soft', I replied.
'Yes', said my boy, 'Don't struggle with stubborn hard skin, like on the telly at my dad's'. I cracked up... They speak plainly and isn't it great?

Really, the Lord's My Shepherd!

Uncannily, as I'd not checked the order of the Mass for this week, I took my boys to Mass this morning and the Responsorial Psalm was, you've guessed it, 'The Lord is my Shepherd, I shall not want'.
I took the boys into liturgy class, and the lady who runs it had ingeniously brought some toy sheep, a 'grass' blanket and a tiny fence. The theme was, of course, why we say, 'The Lord is my Shepherd'. My 21 month old was most taken with the sheep. He has a real thing for the creatures and will even shout excitedly 'Sheep, sheep!' when we see a little dog on a lead at the school, or if the cows are in the field across. So funny!
I was save from getting emotional in Mass by a) the liturgy class, and b) the terrible behaviour of a tot in front of us, and then my 5 year old kicking off 'cause the little one took his pen. I had to lift him bodily and transport him out of the room. Luckily we were adjacent to the door, but the little one panicked as I'd momentarily left him in the room hence more disruption. Eeek. Well you can only try.

One thing that does get me is that when listening to the words of the Psalm, in particular, 'Goodness and mercy will surely follow me, all the days of my life' and I think about the people I've read about in the Gulag, in the Nazi death camps etc. Which makes me feel so so lucky to be born, touch wood, extremely privileged compared to vast areas of the world past and present. You would not blame the most persecuted in the world for stumbling on the faith block.

Judaism teaches that to question faith is to affirm your initial belief in the Creator (I've read that Jews do not say 'Lord' or similar, and find the reading of the concept of Judaism very interesting and thought provoking. The actual act of reading up on this briefly, was that my Jewish boss reckons they don't call the Lord, creator or whatever your choice is, 'He'. Well I've not laboured the point with him but I've seen no evidence to support what he says...anyway, onwards.)

The Lord's My Shepherd

I really do like writing this blog. My mother recently called me a God-botherer, which is rich, considering she converted fron the Cof E the Catholocism to bring her children up in the Church. I think this is because I called a priest to give her the Sacrament of the Sick after a recent and very grave spell in hospital. My sisters' husband took quite an exception to this too, although absolutely none of his beeswax....
At least I can write this in peace, I haven't had any comments, adverse or otherwise, unlike the time I appeared in the press for a complaint I made to a supermarket...Phew talk about knives out! You should have seen the number of inarticulate insults I got, but that's another story.

There are so many lovely things to remember in life, like my baby son handing out pickled onions to everyone at his Nana's birthday party, and when my 5 year old makes me laugh when he still says, 'Ozzerwise' and 'Lellow' from babyhood.

But I have chosen, definitely, one of the hymns for my funeral. I know this sounds weird but in the past year, I have grieved and had to face death and illness of people close to me and chosen/listened to some very poignant hymns. When I'm at Mass I'm often reduced to tears by hymns, and the St Anne Mass (Macmillon) which is most touching when sung by the fantastic choir at St Marie Cathedral in Sheffield.
It's awful, the more embarrassed you feel the worse you can control the tears. I got huge comfort when I read that St Augustine, a noted former sinner but a great reformed person/speaker/writer, said that sung hymns overcame him and reduced him to tears. He famously said that, 'He who sings prays twice' and I was taught at school that the greatest praise for God was when you sing enthusiastically.

Anyway, back to the point..my hymn of choice is Psalm 23, The Lord's My Shepherd. Sung by the Kentwood Choir. The solemnity, pathos and beauty of the singers is breathtaking to me and it has been on repeat in the car now for two days (my poor children!).

The 23rd Psalm

The Lord is my Shepherd; I shall not want.
He maketh me to lie down in green pastures:
He leadeth me beside the still waters.
He restoreth my soul:
He leadeth me in the paths of righteousness for His name' sake.

Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death,
I will fear no evil: For thou art with me;
Thy rod and thy staff, they comfort me.
Thou preparest a table before me in the presence of mine enemies;
Thou annointest my head with oil; My cup runneth over.

Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life,
and I will dwell in the House of the Lord forever.

-- KJV

PS. I prefer the above version, although there are a couple of more contemporary ones you can see if you Google this Psalm.

Philosophise or get consumed by Stomach Ulcer causing Bacteria...

I heard on the radio this week (let's face it, most of my interesting, or otherwise, conversation is led by my radio programmes) that a Nobel prize winning Aussie discovered that stomach ulcers are not really caused by stress, but by a certain type of bacteria. He won the prize by proving that it was the bacteria by downing a glass full of liquid containing the bacteria, and henceforth getting an ulcer. The killer move in gaining the prize was that he further proved it was bacteria by taking anti-biotics and thereby curing the ulcer...the discoverer of the cause and the cure for stomach ulcers in one swift programme.

So not much fear of getting an ulcer no matter how much stress there is in life, although I never really hear of low stressed people getting an ulcer, it always seemed to be the super-charged Wall Street traders in the 80's. Must've been the bad diet I guess.

At the moment I'm trying to download some CAD software for a one off technical job (the first time in 23 years I've been approached to do private work, woo hoo!), and I have got to say that I earned the same amount in 2 hours sat on my bony butt as I have been doing in 3 weeks, tramping up and down the (mostly) well heeled streets of a local village, plying my Avon books to interested and sometimes blatantly uninterested parties.

Ii have to say that the humbler residences are really my cuppa, lovely friendly and encouraging people, who give you smiles, eye contact and a warm feeling. The more priveliged, the grander, the bigger the house, generally the colder, the ruder, the more condescending the occupant. They seem to automatically assume that, because you're selling something, you must be an under educated low life, and less than a human being for that. Which is really not cricket, as, if you're a decent person, who gives a stuff about how educated someone is, or their background (as long as not a danger to anyone else, of course).

But great chuckles also, reading about fellow Avon plyers-of-books' experiences of the rudeness of folk, one saying that a lady had told her, with a look of, yes, sure it was pity, 'Don't be too hopeful dear, I find it all rather cheap'. Guffaw!
I got a note in a book, which I'm absolutely positive was meant kindly, but saying that she had Avon from her neighbor and she 'hopes it works out'...Bless her, but made my heart sink for a minute with foreboding of hard times ahead..

Fish & Chips and the Great British Seaside

Just to start this posting, I want to say how disappointing life can be...I have posted Gulag Voices..and one of the views I have had seems to be from India, the viewer clicking on during a search for a nasty wierdo perverted website, where my blog has somehow appeared because it contains the words cruelty and gang rape (and will probably now appear again)..My reaction to this is, perverts, low lifes, wierdos etc, mend your ways!! Judgement will be upon you!! I could say more but don't want to waste more time on the pervs.

Just been for a couple of days to the coast, a lovely traditional, small and historical coastal town with a lovely Abbey. Picked a room last minute for us, and it was really quaint. Attic room with low beams and a perfectly decorated bathroom with a bath stand-alone (the kind with feet and chrome fittings, yum) and a metal wall hanging in the shape of a tree. Atmospheric lighting too! My boys had a field day with the fake tulips in a vase very low down, which made me think that the proprietors had no small children (it is attached to a family room).
Breakfast was perfect, huge and well presented/cooked. The porridge was served with maple syrup and cream, and was the best I've ever tasted. They had cleverly used last nights left over baked spuds fried with the skins on with the egg, bacon etc..brill, will use this idea too in future.

There were drawbacks though; the little one who won't sleep anywhere but his cot at home, would not sleep. Think it was 11.15 ish before exhaustion got the better and then after an unsettled cool night on a very uncomfortable mattress and a constantly coughing 5 year old, little un was up 5.50 am. That day was quite tiring! I have about 8 bumps on my head from constantly walking into low beams and sloping walls and a couple of those were stunners. The baby was unimpressed with the glossy bathroom lino, which was like a skating rink and he unexpectedly did the splits once or twice. So, beautiful place but no return planned. Just wonder how they jumped over the health and safety hoops but maybe there weren't any, as I'm thinking that most of the tiny places in this old town are similar.

Just heard that Pope John Paul the Seconds remains have been exhumed and he will be beatified. John Newman was recently beatified, although the miracle performed could have been a little shaky. Will research this.

Passion Sunday, or Palm Sunday

To me, this is one of the saddest days in the Church calender, apart from Maundy thursday and Good Friday. I think this is because Jesus was let down so badly by his disciples. He knew that he was going to die a hugely painful death, and wanted his friends to support him, by keeping watch while he prayed for the strength he needed. But they kept falling asleep, and not only this, he knew they would desert him when he needed them most.
He must have been a hugely charismatic figure, with crowds of people gathering to listen to him, and the stories of his miracles must have made him a spectacle of hero worship although became his downfall as he himself knew it would (by making him a target of jealousy and suspicion).
Yet, at the critical moment, when he needed his friends most, they betrayed and deserted him. How many times have we been unpopular because of our belief? How many times have friends been unsupportive and surprised us by this? I think when bad things do happen to us, really bad things, the way we get comfort is knowing that Jesus knew exactly what we are feeling, even if his experience was different, he really knew the meaning of betrayal and pain. I think this is the answer to the faltering of faith we have when bad things do happen, 'How can God let such things happen?'.
I mean things like, when the good die young and the bad folk seem to hang around forever causing trouble? This is the answer, keep your faith because God is with you through your pain.
I think this is one reason why he brought Jesus into the world too, as otherwise, how could we identify with God in our darkest moments. When I think about God, reading bible stories I suspect that he grew and changed and had to alter tactics many times to manage the evolving people. I wish he would enforce stuff in a similar way now, I guess the prophets are unneeded now the Son of Man has changed the world forever.

Gulag Voices made me count my blessings...

After much pre-planning, chnaging my work/childcare days and the dentist, to achieve an important appointment this week...After over a week of gruelling tummy bug for the baby, night and day washing, cleaning, bathing, my older son became sick with terrible cold and cough on Wednesday. High temperature, the lot. Up 1am to 4am this morning, me sponging him with a cool cloth. I thought I'd got used to the lack of sleep but waves of nausea kept flowing over me whilst laying listening to his racking cough.
So all the plans are kyboshed too, I can't keep the appointment (my only hope, my mother has the sickness bug now, too, and with her not being too robust please to keep her safe), and still have to pay for the childcare I planned so carefully, and now can't see the dentist for ages.
Of course I'm not moaning about the boys being ill, I would cut off my right arm for them and it doesn't matter how little sleep I get. Even when all my letters and numbers  get mixed up when I write.

Especially when I read a piece my Mum had cut out for me in the paper, about the book just written called Gulag Voices. 'Gulag' is an acronym for what was broadly the Soviet slave labour camp system. It was terrible but at it's worst under Stalin.Torture, astonishing cruelty, gang rape, and starvation were the norm. So humbling, makes you feel so outraged, angry, hopeless and devastatingly sad.

I will describe the worst one for me, because the lady in question, Hava Volovich described her baby daughter reminding me of my youngest son, and what happened to her was unspeakable, and of course not at all an isolated case.

Hava was a newspaper sub-editor, (always a dangerous job in countries with unscrupulous governments)imprisoned for being publicly critical of the treatment of Ukranian peasants. She was 21, and was one of the tens of thousands of young prisoners to become pregnant and give birth in the camp.
Prison nurseries existed but because of punishing regimes, starvation and cruelty, the children often died. She worked in the forest felling trees in the day and at night, shared a tiny room with 2 other mothers. She brushed the bedbugs off her baby by night, and by day had to leave the babies with women who they knew would take the food out of the children's mouths.
'Every night for a year, I stood at my child's cot, picking off the bed bugs and praying, begging God to prolong my torment by 100 years if it meant I wouldn't be parted from my daughter.'
Eleanor had just started walking and talking when they were transferred to the 'mother's camp' in a freezing cold freight car. She saw her baby turn from a chubby little angel with golden curls to a pale ghost with blue shadows under her eyes and sores on her lips. Through wretched illness, she had to bribe the guards with firewood to see her daughter outside normal hours.
But the things she saw..Nurses shoving and kicking children out of bed before washing them with ice cold water. She saw a nurse grab the nearest baby, tie back the arms and cram hot porridge down the throat.
'My little Eleanor began to fade faster. 'Mama, want home', she cried one evening, her little body covered with mysterious bruises'. On the last day of her life, she could not even stand being breast fed, the description of pain is heart rending.
'In the evening, when I came back to my little bundle of firewood her cot was empty. I found her... in the morgue among the corpses of adult prisoners...she had spent one year and four months in the camp and died on March 3rd 1944'. I've had to mop my eyes so many times writing this, because I can't see the keyboard. It makes me hold my children fiercely close and defend them like a lioness, even more.

I hope I'm not breaching any copyright laws. My Dad was in a Russian POW camp and spoke very little about it. His friend, Roman Rodziewicz, a noted war hero, (and involved in the film Major Hubal, 1973, because of his real-life involvement) told my mother that he'd tried to drive a nail in his own head, due to the brutal treatment by the Gestapo and in Auswitch, Germany.
You can not even call some people animals, animals can't be this evil. People who endured these camps, slavery, war crimes in the past and present must have surely already been in hell or purgatory now and go to paradise no question. It must be the case of, Happy are the poor in Spirit, for theirs is the Kingdom of Heaven, a huge understatement in some cases.

Mothers and Sons, and Attila the Stockbroker

There was a great programme on Radio 4 this week, with Jenny Murray and included Dr Miriam Stoppard, about the mother/son relationship. I had to identify with much of what was said, including one description of how special the relationship is.
At one point, JM remarked, 'How are we going to get through this without bursting into tears?', which made me laugh because tears were already rolling down my face making white lines down my hastily applied 'bronze' face powder. This is always scrubbed on at top speed in the mornings, accompanied by a sinking, 'Oh Lord, I'm late' feeling.
The programme discussed the mother in law aspect of the relationship, which can be a really touchy subject in some families, and so much of what I worry about for the future of my sons.

One point that was discussed that I pondered on and now come to a conclusion for myself..is the love unconditional. I think as they get older (and develop behaviour issues at times), yes the love is unconditional but approval is conditional.

Attila the Stockbroker read out a poignant and very touching eulogy he'd written about his mother, well worth a listen. He obviously bursts with pride about her part assisting the scientists to crack codes at Bletchley Park during WW2, and I totally identify with this, being so humbled and having so much respect for my parents' very different War experiences. My late father was a Polish prisoner of war in Russia and carried the scars from shot wounds suffered during the war on his body and head. He was also at Monte Casino. My mother was younger and endured the war as a child, it ended her education and scattered her family.

PS On a totally different note, why are some programmes on tv obsessed with bonking? If you leave the telly on it appears unnanounced at any time, my 5 year old thinks I have a nervous tic, jumping to the remote to switch over all the time, even in the afternoon. I think it's a good filler of time when the story is weak, plus it's bound to sell but can't we have a choice to opt in instead of out? Sure, you have the option to 'not watch', but as I don't have the time or inclination to peruse the pogramme guide to scan for adult content per day, I'm at a disadvantage. No wonder tv is more often off than on here.

Adam Ant

On the Ropes on Radio 4 on a Tuesday can either be cringe or very good. Max Mosely was cringe. A self indulgent, selfish and self deceiving person (in addition to deceiving his wife of course). Not that I should be judging anyone, as a Christian but everything that came out of his mouth made me really sad, and mad.
Adam Ant, or Stuart Goddard, on the other hand made me feel sad but in a good way. He came across as a decent bloke really, who tried his best and cracked under the hard work and pressure from the record company, earning only 9% profits in the process...
Probably still a decent wage but seems awful whan you listen to what he went through as a result.
It tickled me when he referred to the mental institution he'd been in as a 'nut house', and was rebuked by John Humphries. After all, he'd been committed to the place so he can call it what he wants, in my view. What did annoy me was when JH called Bipolar disorder a disease, and SG did pick him up on that.

What was so sad about it all is that people like him can be very creative and productive, then they crack and are totally helpless in some awful situation they didn't want. They have to deal with the repercussions and stigma forever.
Mental illness is so misunderstood. It seems on the increase, maybe due to the pressures and pace of life. The mentally ill ae treated like cattle and forced to take medication that has awful side effects. It may have the desired effect in one way (stopping dangerous behaviour, keeping the patient quiet, lessening the 'nuisance' factor) but the long term health and wellbeing of the patient seem almost never to be taken into account. The description of what SG experienced sounds appalling and I know that it's not an isolated case. I hope he can acheive what he wants, and that is never to be in that vulnerable state again. Let's hope for a better future for all mentally ill people, and better treatment.

On a lighter note, one lunchtime this week, I saw a van with the logo advertising 'Photography at heights'. It had all kinds of equipment strapped to the top. You could only imagine the stuff they did, from mountain tops etc. Then the guy stepped out of the van carrying a little step ladder, all of 2 steps. He climbed to the very top of these and took a picture of a sign face in a car park. Just wish I'd had a discreet way of taking a photo.

Pope Joan and 'The Natwest Three'

There was a very entertaining programme on Radio 4, I think yesterday, on the way to work. I need to research it, but there is a new book out retracing the Papal line back to way back when (I told you that I need to research it!).

Anyway, the main subject of the programme was Pope John, whose dates of reign I can't say at the moment. He turned out to be a woman, Joan, and, oops, gave birth in public view. This, of course was a huge scandal and was much documented, although I think it was said that there is no concrete proof of her existence.

What really made me chuckle was that, after Pope Joan, there was a chair made for the ordination of subsequent Popes, with a hole in it. Allegedly, the Popes-to-be had to sit butt neckid on this seat, and an official had to reach beneath the hole to feel for testicals...when testicals were felt, the official cried out to the expectant crowd, 'He has testicles!'.
Whereupon, the crowd would respond, 'God be praised!'.

The comment made on the radio to this was, apparently Pope Alexander the ?th, who had fathered many children, was also supposed to have been in the time when this was practice.  It was remarked that, it was difficult to imagine that he had had to be subjected to such undignified groping...Classic.

This morning, in 'On the Ropes', John Humpries gave one of the 'Natwest Three' a good grilling. The guy has written a book.  This was almost transparently done to overcome huge costs incurred by employing lawyers to fight his case before and during the imprisonment of the three (who were implicated in the fall of Enron). Excellent stuff and well worth a listen. I had to give it to the 'grilled one', he took it on the chin and only once started to get really defensive, which was swiftly fielded by JH.

Pout for all you're worth!

A busy and pleasant Sunday. After getting back home mid afternoon and rushing round to put dinner on, my 5 year old son was extremely quiet upstairs. 1% of the time this happens he is asleep in bed but only after a massive tantrum. Usually the quiet gives me a feeling of impending doom...Anything could have happened up there, usually taking up to an hour to clear up. Last time he'd emptied all his moon sand all over the carpet and bed.

I took my sorted washing up to his room and hesitated outside...no noise at all.
I peered expectantly around the door at the bed, but it was flat. not much mess either..I felt a bit worried so hot-footed up the other side of the house and heard a little noise from the bathroom. As I peered round I was shocked..there he was in his altogether with what appeared to be red stuff all around his mouth, and all over everywhere else!! I gathered myself to realise that he had rummaged in my make up bag and was experimenting with my coral coloured lippy. I was so releived to see it wasn't a horrific accident with the nail scissors that I laughed. He laughed too, relieved that I hadn't gone hairless. This is why I get some of my stuff from the £1 shop!

'How do I get it off from round my mouth?', he asked..He'd been trying to tidy up his lip job which had been generously applied all over his face. He's also applied it thickly under his armpits, a la roll on deoderant.

Funnily enough, my 19 month old is also very interested in my make up. I will have to get them both demonstrating on my Avon lady round...

Things that puzzle me about the Church

At Mass several weeks ago (a big traditional Church with the 'Head' priest and two others) it was announced that one of the priests was entering Holy Life in his 60's. This is very unusual at this age, normally it's younger. My immediate thought was, ' The man is a priest, surely that means he already is in Holy Life? Apparently not, this man is going into a Monastry. Now that surely is Holy Life. I saw the big Cahoona priest in Tesco the other morning and honestly, if I'd not known him I would not have thought, 'Oh, a priest', as you would exprect.
He was just wearing a ski jacket, no dog collar in sight, which is fair enough but led me to wonder if priests think their job ends at a certain time like office hours.

I'd always thought not, but then you wonder about this huge problem of child abuse in the Catholic church. I've asked my originally C of E mother, 'Why do you not hear of this problem in the C of E? Is it because of the choice of marriage there?'
This is doubtful to me, as I can bear witness to many stories of married or partnered men abusing their own and other children, so how could this be the case?

My mother thinks that, as the C of E is much smaller and, of course, is the national Church, you may not hear about it as freely.

The problem the Catholic church faces has crippled it's growth, although not the faith of the Catholics. It's a total shame. I always think, how can even a 'normal' bog standard bloke even think of looking at a child in such a way, let alone abuse. It's so frightening. But a priest....I mean, it's not that easy to get into priesthood, and surely you must believe in the teachings, so how can they go so totally opposite to what they are supposed to stand for? Are they evil or just extremely weak people?
I pray that this Pope all those in power make some choices that will obliterate this issue.

Allelu, Alleluyah!

I went to the school Church service today. It's C of E and we're Catholic, so having not been in a C of E Church since, well I can't remember a service although I must have at some point. Lovely Church, very austere inside and the whole, albeit small primary school attended.

It was really lovely. The Head (who is a Canon) prides the school on being a big 'singing' school. The hymns were sung without hymnbook and as I was at the front with my row of infants, I was scared I wouldn't know any of them (wondered if the hymns would be different to Catholic), but it was such a lovely transportation back to my own childhood, I soon remembered the words and of course the music is unforgettable. Those children sung their hearts out! His teacher has a lovely singing voice and sang harmony to 'Seek ye first the Kingdom of God'. It made me so glad that my son can experience this with his peers, and not just with his 'ol Mum.

Teaching the faith is an important integral part of life for me. I think I'm the only one of 5 children who has leant on and enjoyed my faith, and even if my children disregard it as they get older, I want them to have the wonderful grounding they can always go back to at any time.

Ash Wednesday

It was lovely to be able to go to Mass today, I havn't been on this day for many years. I can remember the teacher crying, 'No, don't rub off your ashes', as our foreheads itched and I wanted to feel the texture of the gritty stuff under my fingers.

At the end of Mass, the priest said that normally he wasn't bothered about biscuits and the like, but that morning, on a day of fasting and abstinence, he'd had a craving for a biscuit.
The devil in the guise of a rich tea biscuit!
I felt sad that my older son, who can now understand some of the teaching, couldn't attend as he's in C of E school. I can't understand why they don't celebrate the Holy Days, I didn't think there was so much difference.Instead, I've settled for helping to walk the little ones over the road to their church next time they go, which is some consolation.

Thought for today

Just a thought that struck me yesterday whilst listening to a Radio 4 interview with Sara Brown, the wife of the ex Prime Minister, Gordon. She was describing being called over to meet George Clooney who had an appointment with Gordon. The interviewer asked how gaga she went during the short meeting, and Mrs Brown replied that she didn't go gaga, the person who she really went gaga over was Barbara Streisand.

This reminded me of a survey I read about some time ago, where men (with partners) were put in a room with an attractive available woman, and their reaction was documented. It was noted that the majority of the men flirted with the female and/or denied being attached to someone, then openly admitted to being attracted to the female.
The females put in the same position, however, largely protected their partner and denied being attracted to the males. Interesting, and this situation illustrated it perfectly.

Frustrations of the day and fulfillments

I'm a big listener of Radio 4 ...I remember dull childhood memories of it and now I'm glued. Wonder if my sons will feel the same? Love 'Midweek' with Libby Purves on my way to work, 99% of the time I end up an emotional wreck on arrival at work 35 mins after completing the school run. Sometimes I Google the programme to learn more about the contibuters. Worthy people with life stories to tell in the books they are promoting. On eve on the way home from work was a programme about St Joseph's Hospice in a southern uk location. My Dad, recently departed was a contender for the local St Luke's Hospice but passed away before this happened. The man focused on in the programme was educated and humble. In another programme today, John Snow, the newsreader told of his experiences in disaster zones, and he interviewed very well as a decent, humble and educated man.

In contrast, for 2 days now, we have a woman married to a speaker in the Commons? Who is very vocal about feeling how 'sexy' it is living underneath Big Ben (uh?, Sexy?) and dressing in a sheet then my husband tells me she has isued a statement saying that both her and her husband have had loads more attention from the opposite sex due to her husbands promotion in politics, hence power is 'sexy'. I really wonder why we have any confidence in these people who 'run the country'. I've absolutely no patience with this shallow stuff that becomes headline news when, as John Snow says, they have to censor filming people in disaster locations screaming out of windows for their lives. I feel disgusted and disappointed at this culture that promotes such rubbish and gives air time to stupidity.