One Man and His Blog

Today has been a lovely day. Along with some folks from my cell group (that’s our church’s term for house groups, before you worry that I’ve joined some terrorist network) I’ve been to Sandwell Country Park, just outside Birmingham. We had a lovely picnic and (as inevitably seems to happen when we all get together) ended up doing some very daft things indeed. Particularly daft was our attempt to hold an egg and spoon race, despite the fact that we had no eggs or spoons at our disposal. If ever you’re planning a school sports day, I can thoroughly recommend a "cherry tomato and shortbread biscuit race"; just make sure no one’s holding the tomato on with their thumb.

Anyway, once this ridiculousness was over, we went inside to look at the museum and farm. It’s not that big in terms of what’s there – some ducks, a few cows, lots of pigs, and a cat which bizarrely seemed to be the main source of excitement for most people – but it was fascinating to see how the farm is run. That said, the smells were quite strong, and on more than one occasion I had to walk away from the pigs because the aroma of poo was just too pungent. Then we went out into the kitchen garden at the back and looked at the various crops and vegetables growing (or spaces where they’d just been harvested) and for some reason I was quite moved looking at the many benches in the garden which had been dedicated to the memory of various regular visitors to the park by their relatives. Then I got followed out of the garden by a peacock which probably wasn’t meant to be in there in the first place – I think he may have been looking for the ice cream vans out in the car park.

We finished off by popping into the cafe for a drink, and here little Becky came into her own. Becky is about three or four, and her parents have recently joined our cell. She is extremely cute and often very funny without trying to be, as in the cafe when she tried to work out who was married to who and who should get married to who (I am apparently not marrying anyone from my cell, it would appear). Becky then decided she was going to drive the train and Claire, who was lucky enough to be sitting behind her, would be her passenger. When Claire asked where the train was going, Becky stopped and thought for a while, before eventually deciding its destination was… Oxfam. No, not Oxford – Oxfam. So Claire asked how much the fare was to Oxfam and Becky told her it would be £40, and Claire stumped up some invisible money and Becky set off for Oxfam, making the appropriate train noises. On arriving at Oxfam all of about twenty seconds later, Sue asked where the train was going next and Becky told her it was going to Toys R Us, so Sue asked how much that would be and Becky said it was £1; at which point Claire was somewhat shocked at the incosistent pricing policies of the railways, and I suggested that if she ever wanted to go to Toys R Us in the future, she should get the bus to Oxfam and then catch the train from there, as it would save a lot of money.

Now, I’ve spent the last few years wondering and constantly changing my mind about whether I ever want to have children. After spending time with Becky today, I think I definitely do. Yes, I know it’s not the same when you have other people’s kids around – they’re often better behaved in polite company, and if they’re not it isn’t your responsibility to discipline them and all that – but I’m just thinking the positives seem to outweigh the negatives. Of course, there are bits I wouldn’t look forward to, like the pooey nappy stage and the terrible twos and the sulky teenage rebellion, but I reckon overall it’ll be great. I’m probably not ready yet, but maybe in a few years’ time…

Ahem. Enough broodiness already. Today was brilliant; good company, good weather (at last!) and a lot of laughs. What more could you want?

I’ve just been reading some of Dave’s recent posts regarding various awards and lists of the best Christian blogs, and it’s got me thinking about why I blog. I must admit, I don’t think I’m anywhere near an award-winning standard (unless there’s an award for Most Inconsistent Posting Patterns or Most Random Gibberish), but if I were, I’m still not sure any of the categories for the Christian Blog Awards would encompass my ramblings here. Perhaps part of that’s because I don’t consider this to be exclusively A Christian Blog; I may talk about my relationship with God, aspects of church etc, but I’m just as likely to throw in some random tale of my weekend or a surreal thought that struck me after something or other happened, that have absolutely nothing to do with God or Christianity apart from the fact that I wrote them and I’m a Christian. So I think I can safely say I won’t be rubbing shoulders with the great and the good of the Christian blogging scene anytime soon (unless it’s at a Wibmeet, he hastily and somewhat cheesily adds…).

So why do I blog? I think there’s a variety of reasons, but I guess they all boil down to one single point – I blog because I want to. Sometimes I don’t know what to say or I don’t know why I’ve said what I’ve said or I don’t know why anyone would particularly want to read anything I have to say, but I just enjoy the freedom that comes with the internet, a computer and the power of thought. Sometimes I’ll share stuff because it’s amused me and I think others might be amused; sometimes because it’s a form of catharsis; and sometimes just because I have nothing better to do (OK, more likely I do have something better to do but I’m avoiding doing it). If I wasn’t blogging, it wouldn’t be the end of the world – heck, I survived 28 years without doing it, and you survived many years without reading it – but I guess it would be less fun for me. It may or may not be less fun for you, that’s up to you to decide, but certainly I’d find life that little bit less interesting without it.

OK, enough navel-gazing. Time to come out with something profound and insightful…

Today it’s been raining so much, even Andie MacDowell would have noticed.

Today’s entertainingly daft news story: http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/england/dorset/6901543.stm

The bit that makes me laugh about this (apart from the concept in the first place and the utterly po-faced response from the pagans) is the way they plan to do some "rain magic" to make Homer disappear. How does that work exactly? Presumably you do some magic and then wait for it to rain, or you keep doing the magic until it rains; then you claim the rain only came because of your magical powers. So, nothing to do with the fact that it rains quite regularly anyway (about once every ten minutes in Britain in the last couple of months, apparently), you can just pass it off as your own work. On which basis, today I "magically" made the postcard my friends sent me from their holiday last week appear in the post…

You know I said I’d post something with some lies in to see if you could spot them? Well, yep you guessed it, I was lying.

Seriously, it’s been a busy week and I couldn’t think what I could say to you about it, so I’m bailing out on that one. Sorry.

And now we return you to your regular scheduled programme…

So after two days of technical problems, my housemate Tom got t’internet working again today. And now I have absolutely no free time to blog anything between now and Saturday.

Still, between now and the end of the weekend, I shall be attending two barbecues, one smart-dress party, a session leading the yoof at church, and an appointment for a haircut (not in that order). If nothing of note for a potential blogger occurs across these various functions, then there really is no point me being here. Or I may be forced to make something up. Tell you what, when I blog next, I’ll throw in some random lies and see if you can spot them amongst the usual rubbish. There will be an exciting prize for the winners* so be sure to keep looking out…

*oh look, this lying business is quite easy, isn’t it?

…that period where I tell myself there are lots of things that I need to do, that I won’t have time to do at any other time, and then promptly don’t bother doing them, only to reach the end of the weekend wondering why I didn’t do them, what on earth I was doing instead, and when I’ll ever get a chance of doing them now…

Yes, like seemingly everyone else on earth, I have recently been introduced (and subsequently become slightly addicted) to facebook. Now, of course, many people (Wibloggers and Wibsite fans alike) have discovered that Dave and Chris have set up a Wibsite group on facebook, to which we all say "huzzah" and "cheers" and similarly affirmative noises. But what about all the other groups out there?

Well, I’m in a few but they’re all generally quite sensible things. A quick look at some of my friends’ profiles (and all my facebook friends are actually people I know or have at least met IRL) reveals a few beauties. There’s the A-Team Appreciation Society (which I would love to imagine comprises people who said "I ain’t joining no A-Team Appreciation Society, fool!" shortly before falling unconscious and awakening later to find they had joined it), a campaign for the comedian and musician Bill Bailey to be next year’s UK entrant in the Eurovision Song Contest, a society celebrating the French philosopher Michael Foucault (entitled What The Foucault, when it clearly should have been called I Know Foucault) and the self-explanatory I Secretly Want To Punch Slow Walking People In The Back Of The Head. But undoubtedly my favourite is the National Campaign For Spokey Dokeys On The London Eye.

As any British child of the 1980s will tell you, spokey dokeys were those little plastic bits, given away free with breakfast cereals, that clipped onto the spokes in bicycle tyres, and made a tinkling noise as they slid down the spokes when you rode the bike. So I can see the logic of putting some on the Eye to brighten it up, but there is a flaw in this plan. The Eye moves round so slowly, that rather than a gentle succession of tinklings as on a bike, the giant spokey doekys would just clunk down, probably at intervals of several seconds. And unless they were made of something quite lightweight such as fibreglass, I can foresee potential danger in a big dokey rapidly heading towards the roof of your capsule; frankly, that would probably scare a lot of tourists away.

So upon reflection, it’s probably best not to decorate one of our most prominent landmarks with these lovely items. Or, indeed, to overanalyse tongue-in-cheek facebook groups.

As you were, troops.

…it must be barbecue night at our house. Well, that’s how it seems to have gone for the last three months or so – as long as it’s not raining, we’ll have a barbecue on Sunday evenings. I should probably go and attend to the towering inferno… or leave it to Tom, I’m not sure which.

Baby update – last heard about 2 and a 1/2 hours ago, still in labour (that’s about 37 hours now) but baby is imminent. Parents are exhausted (mother probably more so than father, but he sounds quite tired too). Prayers are continuing.

Subsequent update – baby finaly born around 7.30 this evening!! It’s a girl! Praise God!