As I scanned the skyline first thing this morning,
my initial thought was that this proves definitely to be one of those glorious,
promised Indian summer days. Good thing there’s a ward activity planned for
later in the day – too bad it’ll take place indoors! Perhaps my assessment was
a bit premature, because as I found out a little later, it turned out to be a
full-blown autumn day, the air decidedly brisk.
Just now as I was brushing my teeth in the sink in
the small box room next to mine – gazing absent-mindedly out the window, onto
the street below, I noticed a tall, carnation-colored hollyhock swaying gently
in the slight breeze, several doors down. Delightful! I guess that kind of puts
a finger on why I am so totally entranced with my life here in England. It is because
of all the different ways each of my senses is piqued, day after day, day in
and day out. Who could not love that?! (Oh, I am such a hedonist – good thing I
have the truth of the Gospel to hold onto and keep me in line! Who knows what
“dark and dreary’ wasteland I might have ended up in? I know without a doubt that
I am all the more happy and healthy for having tightly grasped that rod of
iron. Sometimes that realization requires passing through some learning experiences
before we come to know and appreciate the benefits God has placed there, just
waiting for us to re-discover.)
I’m so glad Leah tempted me out of my cubby hole
in the forenoon, to come and join her and the kidlets in the park closest to
them – that disciplined Martin, continuing to plow through his PhD. When we’d
been chatting on the phone earlier about what time we’d get together later for
the ward activity, she asked what I was doing today. And I answered, you know
what I’m doing – I’m working on my blog, concerning which I am presently three
days behind. She said the same thing my kids are always saying, you know, like
‘get out there and experience the world!’ In other words, don’t stay cooped up
in your room writing. So I took her up on it, and boy, am I glad I did. It was
so splendiferous out there in the out-of-doors! Like I said, so glorious, there
at the park, among the trees and the grass and the breeze, words couldn’t even
begin to do it justice – Katya streaming through the park on her bicycle,
Oliver following the paths on his scooter, Baby Ella swaying dreamily to her
heart’s content in the baby swing.
Rather than an Indian-summer day, it was just what
you’d expect out of a regular ol’ resplendent autumn day – cool and blustery.
And, of course, that’s not necessarily a bad thing when you accept the fact
that, after all, it IS autumn – even if it seems a little earlier than might be
expected. If it weren’t for that nice, warm sun, you might even call it
downright cool. (I am so curious to know what full-blown winter is going to
feel like. I’m kind of scared. I REALLY hate being bone-chilling cold. Only
time will tell . . .) One of the most eye-catching things, next to the children
themselves, playing and cavorting, were the voluminous, distinct,
every-shade-of-grey clouds that Leah tells me her dad, who served a mission in
the Netherlands, calls Dutch skies – massive, plump, well-formed shapes like
you see in the tranquil landscape scenes by the old masters.
[Speaking of ivories, it is curious to me to
observe how the teeth of the Wardy children have suddenly all decided to make
major life changes: Katya beginning to lose them at 6, Oliver beginning the
same thing at age 4, and then there’s Ella whose mouth has abruptly determined
to overflow with teeth – eleven in all, to date – in no more than 8 short
weeks! By the way, the reason the photo of 'Katya loosing her teeth' is less than impressive is because her adult tooth on the bottom was already coming in before she even lost the baby one. So NO space to speak of!]
Let the games begin! That’s the byword for this
evening’s ward activity – a sort of team quiz competition. We congregated around
tables in the cultural hall, all different ages, and as a group answered
questions in different categories. Each team was to make sure they had some
children as a part of the aggregate (you’ll see why – very cleverly thought
out!) The master of ceremonies (a young, married, university student in our
ward – who also happens to play the organ in sacrament meeting) asked questions
from a variety of categories: Olympics, conceptual, scriptures, all things
British, sports, celebrities (wow! there is a whole different collection here than
I am used to, had heard of practically none of them), spelling, and last but
not least, questions surrounding a number of CBeeBies programs. See what I said
about wanting your fair share of children? I mean who knows the name of Rosie’s
best friend or Tree Fu Tom’s latest adventure or can identify individual Octonauts by sight if queried (Who IS Captain Barnacle anyway?!) better than the kids who watch
them?!
As a security blanket, I went first to sit down next to
Leah, but then saw my buddy, Timmy, along with a bunch of other youth, at the
next table, so decided to join them instead and spread the love. Leah called
out after me, ‘Yeah, Debbie, that’s a good idea – spread that American spirit around!”
(The sister missionaries and elders were present, as well.) So I did. We had a
great team, including Oliver and Thomas, who really helped us out – along with
Thomas’ daddy, the bishop, as well, who has the most amusing sense of humor.
My absolute worst category, bar none, was the
conceptual one – ooo, man, I stink! Could get my head around hardly any of those
questions. Where I shined was at spelling! I was feeling very smug about the
whole thing (in this portion of the competition, persons went up singly to the
MC’s table and spelled out their answer), as to this point I had known how to
spell every single word, even as they continued get more and more complicated.
We had started with the youngest and worked our way up in age. The word for the
five to seven year olds was “friend.” (Man, now that’s a stumper – especially
when you’re five! Should have watched more ‘Mr Rogers,’ but aside from Leah,
nobody seemed to know who he was.) Finally it was my turn: I got my word and
whipped it out faster than anyone else, all adults by this point. I hurried
over to show it to the game-show host. He looked it intently, and after studying
it for a moment, rejoined with, ‘no, sorry, that’s not correct.’ What?! Then it
came to me that he had asked specifically for the British derivation. Oh man! I
wasn’t even aware there WAS a British spelling of the word, “maneuver,” let
alone know how to spell it! (Spelling ‘manuever’ in Uncle Sam’s English is
punitive enough!) So much for my spelling expertise! But I can tell you one
thing, I will never again NOT know how to spell “maneuver,” as spelled by my
British companions! (Okay, smarty, you try it!)
It was great fun and created the perfect bonding
experience for all the ward members who made the effort to come out. Had the
chance to make lots of new friends: in particular, co-team member, Marietta –
stunningly-tall, beautiful, AND nice teenage daughter* of our Indian stake
presidency member, President Segal, whose family (four daughters and a son
bringing up the rear) also happens to be in our Harborne ward. Also got to
visit more extensively with Beate (think Italian, though she is of German descent),
who befriended me when I first showed up in the ward and invited me to participate
with others in our ward group in another singles convention up near Manchester
in a couple weeks – a drive-up-and-back, same-day sort of thing this time
around.
Just to make your mouths water, let me just add
that refreshments were a wide, and plentiful, assortment of mostly cakes, of
every imaginable description. (Some lovely tangerines were also available for
those who didn’t want all-out sweets. It was interesting to me that both Marietta
and Katya, as well as others, referred to them as oranges. Marietta, when asked
if she didn’t know they were, in fact, tangerines; replied that she couldn’t really
distinguish between the two. Maybe that's because tangelos are also known as oranges, though they seem much more like tangerines to me. Now that would be confusing!) A week earlier I’d been with Martin when he’d
delivered Thomas back to his family, when the bishop had come out to retrieve
his son in the carport. We had gotten into a conversation about the upcoming
ward activity and I brought up the subject of treats, wondering if it was going
to be pot-luck or what. Those goofy guys, kidding around with one another, said
jokingly that most often, in instances such as this, refreshments are provided
by Sister Costco. Hah! (Took me a minute
to get it!)
[I just
have always to comment on the progression of my relationship with my landlady
as it develops: today she called out to
me in my room, as she had come most of the way up the stairs (and that is a
major thing due to the back problems she has been dealing with just now), and
wondered if I would give my opinion on her outfit. She was trying to decide
between a coupla different jackets she was considering to accentuate her outfit.
(Myfanwy is quite a sharp dresser, and always looks immaculate and tasteful.
Wow – and she was asking me?!) We decided the lighter one was best for the
midday christening, saving the darker one for her dinner engagement later in
the evening, keeping the same skirt and blouse throughout the day. Perfect!
(Isn’t that great - that she felt like asking?!)]
**[Both Marietta and her sister, Laura, respectively, are Oliver and Katya’s Primary teachers, lucky ducks (Well, it goes both ways, actually!) They are in their late-teens/early twenties, gorgeous – and awfully nice and friendly, as I have indicated. I said something to Martin in amazement about how tall they were. He said, ‘well, yeah, they oughta be. Take a look at their shoes.’ While they ARE tall hereditarily already, four or five-inch heels doesn’t hurt!]
**[Both Marietta and her sister, Laura, respectively, are Oliver and Katya’s Primary teachers, lucky ducks (Well, it goes both ways, actually!) They are in their late-teens/early twenties, gorgeous – and awfully nice and friendly, as I have indicated. I said something to Martin in amazement about how tall they were. He said, ‘well, yeah, they oughta be. Take a look at their shoes.’ While they ARE tall hereditarily already, four or five-inch heels doesn’t hurt!]
Photos_
1- biker Kat
2- lost in reverie
3- swinger's high
4- the way home under Dutch skies after playing in
the park
