Seeing as how our regular ride, Petra, was still
gone to Germany, I decided to give getting to church the big push and walk.
It’s probably between a 30-40 min stretch. Besides I now had Google maps to
lite my way! As it was a nice brisk morning, and I don’t like to be cold, I
dressed in my wintriest skirt, sweater and jacket, and had on my feet what I
like to call my “sweet spirit” walking shoes -- good as gold, perfectly adequate,
but not very exciting!. I told Sandra as I left that I thought I must look like
a Jehovah’s Witness missionary, what with my appearance, and “scripture bag”
and all.
Drat! No kidding, I had walked no further than a couple feet when a car pulled up and I heard, “Debbie, you wanna ride?” Of
course, I was happy to be a known entity, for one, and secondly to save myself
the potential of becoming lost on my first try of getting to church without
help. It was Nicole Gabbitas and Eva (pronounced Ava) and Josiah. You can guess
what I told Josiah, and reminded him of the heritage he received in being named
after that surprisingly-for-his-time righteous biblical king. Their other kids
are Lydia and Eli(as). Can’t begin to describe how nice their family is, and
inviting, almost like you’ve know them before. (A funny side note is Mandy had
told me before coming, that, to her, they were the most American family in the
ward. When I shared that thought with Nicole, she got this dubious look on her
face and said, well, I’m not sure if that’s a compliment or not. I asked her
what she meant by that, as I had intuited in my various interactions with
others some “not so favorable” connotations associated with being American. She
said well, honestly, people love ‘em or they hate ‘em. {Well, that’s kind of
sad, huh?! And I guess I didn’t help any with my shenanigans the week before.}
Another widely held supposition is that ALL Americans are rich – which kind of
makes sense if you think that the ONLY Americans they come across are the ones
who have the resources TO travel abroad.)
Behaved myself whilst at church, you’ll be happy
to hear. (Gotta be a good example of what it means to be an American -‘cause
I’m proud to be an American, lalala, lalala, lalala!) We started off with a
“joint activity” for Priesthood/RS meetings. The mother of our instructor, the
bishop, sat down beside me and stayed, and made me feel welcome through both RS
and SS. (Nicole is the YW president, so that’s why we weren’t together, in case
you were wondering, though this is the second week I have sat by their family
during sacrament meeting. Yes, Mandy’s right – whether they like it or not –
they do FEEL American to us Americans!) Sue’s (Spencer) daughter is the Gospel
Doctrine teacher. Her husband had been the bishop back in his day in this ward,
while one of their sons is a stake president where he lives, and the other is a
high counselor. What a family! Just consider the incredible repercussions of
being brought up in a righteous home – as well as the alternative. (By the way
Bro and Sis Spencer are the tender parents of 4 children and 12 grandchildren.
One of my favorite things is that when I asked Sue how she and Paul had met she
said it was at the beach, at Cleethorpes. She was there with friends, and so
was he; they had eyes only for each other, got acquainted. She was instrumental
in his eventually joining the church, and the story goes on and on, as they say.)
The bishop’s message centered around the concept
of staying strong through affliction. Realizing these times will come, how can
we best prepare? – a subject each one of us will need sooner or later. He
showed several Mormon Messages as examples -- very effective. (One called
Flecks of Gold stars my friend, Dallin Bayless, as a prospector who has a
lesson to learn, pg. 3 of MM; the other by Elder Holland is also excellent, pg
9, called Good Things to Come. Take a look at Mormon Messages on the church’s
website when yoy have a minute. So many great topics to choose from; excellent
for family home evenings, etc. You are guaranteed to find something there your
family will benefit from and enjoy. A funny adage the bishop said he heard
recently in a training meeting: if you want something to be hidden or lost, put
it in a church handbook! Related as he explained how our home teachers would be
bringing around a small pamphlet called Family. He entreated fathers,
especially, to show affection to their wives and children. He admonished
everyone to focus on the things that matter most, to never let a problem to be
solved be more important than a person to be loved. You’ve probably heard that
one before and it’s a good one!
I love that in Sunday School when we were reading
in Alma chp 32 about developing one’s faith, when the verses with the word
pluck were read aloud (40 & 42), it was “plook.” (Oh, British diction. How
I love it!) One tidbit shared was this little gem: Do I have always to give,
said my peevish and selfish self? Oh, no, said the angel, only just keep giving
till the Lord stops giving to you.
Got a ride home from very kind Brother Taylor, who
was excited to call me Sister T. He is a very jokey man and then took it
further by asking if I minded if he called you, Debs?! (Now this is a funny
thing: as some of you may know, I have always disliked the nickname, Deb -- IMMENSELY -- but somehow there is something about being around here that has
taken the vitriol right out of it for me. {Sorry, Erin, your prick has lost its
thrust!] I have met so many Debbie’s and they are all so nice, and all of us,
according to my mom can chalk it up to the wildly popular and beloved -- by both
men AND women -- movie actress, Debbie Reynolds, who was a great favorite about
the time we all decided to be born! {Or rather, I should say, our parents decided . . .} “Deb”
is starting to feel kinda chummy, somehow. So I said, “Yes, Brother T, you, and
only you, have my permission to call me Debs -- any time you like!”)
After a nice lunch of boiled cabbage, potatoes,
carrots and some chicken pieces with sauce kindly prepared by Sandra for me and
another guest, one of the dotters from church -- while they went visiting, I headed off to
People’s Park for the Sunday Picnic in the Park celebration. There was again a
large crowd of participants and family members of every age. There were
performers (what we would almost think of as old-fashioned – a clown acrobat,
storytellers, a juggler), as well as live old-time music coming from the
bandstand. There were also craft and food booths like we have at our Farmer’s
Market back home. I really liked what one girl had done with felting. It was a
pattern of impressionistic pink roses on a sky blue field with streaks of gold
running length-wise. It was so intriguing to my eyes. She gave me her contact
information and said she would be glad to make up something similar for me if I
liked. I was thinking I could hang it by a delicate cord on the wall like a
small tapestry or something.
An enlivening time was had by all. Finally saw a
sqeerrel, one of those evasive creatures I’ve been hearing so much about. I
always like to take in the local color – although local color around here (wild
hair dyes, extensive tattoos on practically everyone over the age of 16) sometimes
begins to get to me, and as much as it is novel and exciting, after a while it
begins to feel like degradation, and then I just want to escape from it.
So onto a lighter note, let me tell you about People’s
Park, where today’s festivities took place. I learned of the park from Richard
before I left to come here, as he knew that I loved walking and being out of
doors. People’s Park – and I suppose there are People Parks all over the UK -- first came into existence back in the days of
old Queen Victoria, when it was determined that Grimsby needed a central public
park, on land donated by wealthy Edward Heneage, a local MP (member of
parliament). After a lengthy competition, the design, Semper Paratus, was
awarded to one William Barron, for its “strong axis and curvilinear paths”. It
was opened in 1883 by the Duke and Duchess of Connaught and sports a lovely
large pond (or lake if you’re from the western half of the United State) with
water fowl and fountains, a children’s play area, including many floral gardens,
paths and extensive lawns. (Sorry, I found nothing to tell its size -- perhaps
similar to Liberty Park in SLC.) Originally the park had two ornate iron entrances
that lead into the park from the surrounding residences. Sadly these massive structures
were removed in the 40s to support the war effort, (in other words, they were
torn down to become scrap metal -- sort of like turning an old cow over to the glue
factory). In 1900, in celebration of the life of Queen Victoria who was turning
80 that year, an observatory, not to be confused with the meteorological kind, was
built. 15 meters high (darned if I can tell you how tall that is!), it was designed
with 80 steps leading to a view balcony, to commemorate each year of the Queen’s
life (very close to the number of grandchildren and great-grandchildren offspring
she and Bertie had. Whoa!). The park has gone through many revisions, each one
making it more and more beautiful -- though I’m mournful for being deprived of those
majestic gates to the horrific violence that shook the whole world those many
years ago.
1- Olympic Google doodle
2- Jehovah’s best
3- contraband (that earned me untold grief)
4- ornate splendor
5- the merry makers
6- taller than tall – an interesting character at the Sunday fling - and yes, as tall as he appears to
be - turned out to be the next performer
6- taller than tall – an interesting character at the Sunday fling - and yes, as tall as he appears to
be - turned out to be the next performer
