(Making sense of) life and work

A new departure this week: sat and read the Church of Scotland regular publication for its members, Life and Work. As Dan is set to continue working with the Scottish Bible Society on their website, and had made reference to this magazine, thought I’d have a look.

One particular comment struck me from a column written by the Rev Jock Stein: “It is important that poets and composers who happen to be Christian are left to write good poems and good books, and not pressured to write ‘Christian books’ or ‘Christian music’.”

He goes on to say “if Christians are to be salt and light in our culture, we need books, articles, films, music written by Christians, not some tame product with a Christian label.”

Have been musing for a while about a pattern for my own life: how to make sense of what I currently enjoy doing, but also what I sense might be around the corner. It all seems to come back to story: the importance of expressing the good, and bad, in our lives and longings.

Growing up, I loved books and music from an early age, and was lucky enough to be given both in good measure. Like many other teens, there were diaries full of angst, and a good few poems too, some with angst and uncertainty, others amazed by the world around me.

Becoming a Christian at 19, it seemed like I now had the answers. There were, and still continue to  be, answers that I need.  But I didn’t know what to write about  – what I had written before (including doubt and uncertainty) no longer seemed to fit, even though I was still experiencing these things at times.

Perhaps it wasn’t coincidence that a day or so after reading the article, and hearing the news of friends having a new baby, I found myself looking in poetry anthologies for something to put in their card. Not finding anything that seemed to work, I took up my pen…and wrote a poem for the first time in ages.

Was it any good? No idea. But it said what I wanted to say to this new life. It was, as I wrote to the little girl’s parents, a gift of words.

What excites me at the moment is that this idea of story is making sense of some of my projects at work. It’s making sense of my musings on my own story, and what God may be saying.

It allows me to think about other people’s stories, through counselling. And perhaps there may even be a chance for that early love of story to come back through creative writing.

The stories are still about struggle. Uncertainty. But also overcoming these, and seeing who we become in the process. Finally, I may just have something to write about again.

Book fair a go go

So, the latest Peebles book fair again, and a happy Saturday morning was spent by me and Dan, plus my parents, browsing a huge stock of second hand books.

The proceeds go to a range of charities – even though last year’s fair was partially snowed off on the Sunday, they still raised £8000 over the one weekend.  Hope they’ll do even better this year.

As we’ve been for a good four years now, we develop different techniques to stalk our prey.  I move in for the kill on the children’s books section (not to the kids, naturally), and was able to claim a few new ones to fill gaps in the collection.

Others (the men) tend towards the hard backs first.  Is this a greater prize?  Don’t know, but Dan reckons he bagged the only two science fiction reads in the hall.

You can also search by categories such as biography, Scottish-related books, as well as fighting past the multiple copies of “The Full Monty” on video on the entrance hall.  There’s generally a good antiquarian section too, although no special finds this year.

When it comes to bagging the collection, I favour the fairly brazen technique.  “I’ve brought my own bag, I have X amount to spend, and I don’t want any change.  How many of these can I have for my money?”  They’ve not refused me yet.

From soup to shining soup

Back to the (primeval) soup…here are the results of the next batches:

– broccoli and Cheddar: a particularly fetching green, biggest thumbs up

– curried parsnip: not as nice a colour, but very soothing

– carrot and carroway: lovely colour, great smell while the seeds are cooking, great taste too

– curried green lentil: yet to be tested…

Don’t know how many soups I have to make before the blender has paid for itself, but we’re enjoying ourselves, and hopefully even keeping some colds at bay too.

The soup is not shining, it’s true – although my face above the soup pot may well be…

Soup of the evening, beautiful soup

When I was still putting our news into yearly letters for Christmas time, I found myself wanting to categorise different years by activity: the year of the flat, the year of decorating, or whatever.

I’m not sure whether it feels like that anymore, as certain tasks come round again, or get repeated. However, there is a new theme emerging at the moment: soup making.

My liquidiser broke last year – a testament to a time when machines were made to last more than a couple of years, given that it started off being used to make my meals when I was a baby. This year, I bought a new hand-held one, and am probably a bit over-excited in seeing what it will do. Soup seems to be the most obvious place for trying it out, especially while the evenings are still quite cold.

For those who really want to know (and indeed for those who don’t too, since I am quite proud of the results), soups so far include: leek and potato, green lentil, pistou, and hopefully this evening, broccoli and stilton.

There’s nothing like variations on a theme to help you feel you are getting the hang of something. I promise there won’t be turtle soup (thinking back to the title of this post). But for now, no vegetable is safe. And maybe a few other ingredients too.

P.S.  Dan has just pointed out that I need to explain the title.  It’s from Alice in Wonderland, where the Mock Turtle is singing about soup.  Off you go and check.

Foggy ‘cross the Mersey

The season of work trips has started again, and the start of February saw me visiting Liverpool for the first time.

One advantage of these weekend trips is that you get the chance to see something of the place where you’re staying. Given my parents’ choice of music while I was growing up, walking round town was a chance to replay various Liverpool-related songs.

Liverpool will be European City of Culture in 2008, and near the Mersey, you could see a lot of new buildings going up rapidly. Warehouse space is in some areas well re-developed (the Albert Dock complex, including Tate Britain, lots of cafes etc) and in others still waiting for the chance.

My first view from the hotel room, while unpacking on the Friday, couldn’t be bettered: the Metropolitan Cathedral in one direction, the Liver Building in another. Unfortunately, the fog was setting in by the time we were let out on the Saturday afternoon, so I managed to see both again, but with less visibility as the afternoon wore on.

By the time I got to the Mersey, you couldn’t really see anything. It was quite atmospheric though, looking out into the mist and hearing fog horns sounding, possibly on the other side of the river.

The highlight for me, though, was the Metropolitan Cathedral. Yes, it does look like a space ship from the outside. The guidebooks will freely allow that it started leaking etc within a few years of being opened, and they’ve spent a lot of money having to restore it.

But that doesn’t prepare you for the wonderful light inside through the stained glass in the ‘chimney’ part. Every side chapel is different, with separate purposes. And by making the main section a circle, so you are never far from the altar or the other people, it certainly seems to help you feel part of a community.

And with a love like that, you know you should be glad…