tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24373876656640629652024-03-14T02:16:56.845-07:00Wayman & Ruth's BlogRuth Chapmanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16822876061735458576noreply@blogger.comBlogger99125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2437387665664062965.post-55331029314014756242012-07-11T20:59:00.003-07:002012-07-11T21:04:54.463-07:00A quiet day in front of the fire<div style="text-align: center;">
Today I am spending the day in front of the fire. </div>
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I rarely do this, but I am sick.</div>
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I have the flu, it is not bad, but just enough for me to feel OK about spending the day indulging in some quiet time. </div>
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I have had a busy few weeks, with a trip to Melbourne then Cass and Nathan visited and I hosted "the band" when they came to Adelaide to play with Nathan. </div>
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<i>It was a fun time, head across to Cassies blog to see them.</i></div>
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But today they are all gone, and I am enjoying being able to sit in my lounge, with the fire while the washing machine churns on. </div>
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Toast, an orange and yogurt are on the menu, and Carol Kings' Tapestry is keeping me company. </div>
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I fell behind in my Bible reading over the past little while so I have caught up today. I use Bible Gateway, and today I listened to the audio, it makes large passages easier to follow, especially now when I am feeling a bit sick. </div>
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I love having people in my home, it seems to help make sense of owning such a large property. It is made to have lots of activity, from midnight snacks in the lounge, to football watching in the TV room, breakfast eaten around the kitchen bench, and nerf wars in the rec room. </div>
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I am so blessed...............now I need a little sleep.......................</div>
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<br /></div>Ruth Chapmanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16822876061735458576noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2437387665664062965.post-39105841741742633432012-06-19T22:40:00.000-07:002012-06-20T04:08:14.553-07:00Grannies got nerf guns!!!!!!!Last week I decided to rectify the bias toward female toys in my house. I am an avid frequent flyer points collector, so I visited Big W to invest in some nerf guns and earn some points. My only experience with nerf guns was at Christmas time when C received one, and I was busy with other things and didn't take too much notice of his new toy.<br />
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Not knowing much about them I just bought the ones that were on special.<br />
I think I purchased the intergalactic superduper machine gun variety!</div>
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I only bought two on my first foray, but then I decided that Miss P might like one too, so the little one was added to my arsenal.</div>
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They live in my rec room, a rather large space that is only used occasionally and has minimal furniture in it, just enough to provide cover in warfare.<br />
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These little babies have considerable fire power, much to the little boys delight.<br />
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We have the rule that you can't shoot at anyones head. This is quite difficult for Grannie as I usually shoot from the hip, and my opponents are a 4 and 6 year old. Their heads are usually in my target zone.<br />
I work hard to avoid hitting their precious little noggins while they are firing at me at will!<br />
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One of the Dads fired the suction caps at the ceiling [it has a high vaulted middle] where they all stuck fast.<br />
The next game was to try and dislodge them with other bullets. I think the soft toys were used in the end to knock them down.<br />
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Oh the fun of being a Grannie who owns nerf guns!</div>Ruth Chapmanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16822876061735458576noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2437387665664062965.post-27055203293325547672012-06-08T07:11:00.000-07:002012-06-08T07:15:21.984-07:00Barbie 25 years later<div style="text-align: center;">
Today I decided it was time to clean the toys my grandchildren play with. </div>
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I have a new home for them, in an old cupboard that we have brought into the rec room where they can be easily seen and accessed.</div>
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Most of them needed a wash.</div>
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You see, many of the toys in my home belonged to my daughters and they are now delighting their children. </div>
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<i>I do confess I have bought nerf guns for the little boys, barbies only hold their attention for so long.</i></div>
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Barbie dolls were very popular in our home 25 years ago. </div>
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There was a bookcase that was converted into a dolls house for barbie and her friends, and the girls would play for hours decorating the rooms and changing barbies outfits.</div>
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She [in all her different forms] looked a bit worse for wear today, so I stripped her, and put all the clothes in the washing machine, wondering how many would be in one piece at the end of the cycle.</div>
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I then preceeded to wash her, and the one Ken doll we owned.</div>
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<i>I covered Ken, even tho he isn't anatomically correct, it just seemed right.</i></div>
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I was amazed at how well the clothes survived!</div>
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There is a number of very classy evening outfits</div>
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and some more sporty ones</div>
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I have no recollection of acquiring these. </div>
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The girls followed a number of different AFL teams...... I remember the Carlton faze, but not Sydney.</div>
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At last it was time to dress her in the beautiful clean clothes</div>
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It is exhausting putting the trousers on! In the end I went for the outfits that offered the least resistance.</div>
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Ken is still waiting to be dressed...........</div>
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he only has one outfit, and it is still wet. </div>
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Next job is to put the pound puppies and cabbage patch kids through the machine.</div>
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You may well ask why I have chosen to blog on this after a long break. </div>
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I have no idea, it really is a bit silly isn't it!</div>
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<br /></div>Ruth Chapmanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16822876061735458576noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2437387665664062965.post-81207210292449937962012-05-16T07:00:00.000-07:002012-05-15T16:06:08.837-07:00one year on<div style="text-align: center;">
Today is the anniversary of Waymans death.</div>
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Time is a funny thing.</div>
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Some days it seems as if it was just yesterday, and others I feel as if he has been gone for half a life time.</div>
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I miss him dreadfully.</div>
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Yet God has chosen this path for me and I trust Him with the future. </div>
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Some days I am better at that than others.</div>
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I am privileged that Wayman provided for me in such a way that I am materially comfortable, and my girls are wonderfully caring.</div>
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My sons-in-law are good men who love the Lord and lead their families well.</div>
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My grandchildren are a constant delight to me. </div>
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I now have four on earth with me, Charlie, Penny, Jonty and Oscar, who was born to Stephanie and Shane in March.</div>
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It is still strange to attend church on my own some weeks. </div>
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I think this is exacerbated by the fact that many people did not know Wayman. </div>
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The numbers have grown so much that the majority of people have joined us since Wayman became ill.<br />
So I am learning to introduce myself to them as a widow.<br />
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How strange that still sounds.<br />
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I love my garden, and feel a responsibility to maintain it well. </div>
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I am not good at looking after the lawns........Wayman would be disappointed in that.<br />
But I had a great display of annuals this year, and the war with the birds has abated!<br />
The veggie patch is planted with winter things, brussel sprouts, broccoli, winter greens, beetroot, carrots, garlic and herbs.<br />
And pumpkins, I only put in two this year, and they haven't taken over the patch.<br />
I am learning to make compost, and how to safely burn rubbish, I mow the lawns and try to keep the autumn leaves under control.<br />
I have put fish in the dam, silver perch, and I am hoping that my grandsons will learn to fish there.<br />
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The house is my refuge. I love it.<br />
It is very big, but I don't feel uncomfortable in it.<br />
Each room has a purpose and I seem to use them all.<br />
The families love visiting to watch Collingwood play on my oversized TV in winter and the tennis court is a wonderful play ground for us all in the warmer months.<br />
So I will stay here for a while longer.<br />
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With the anniversary of Waymans death comes the end of all the "firsts"<br />
The first Christmas without him, the birthdays, anniversaries, football grandfinals, each one evoking memories with emotions just below the surface.<br />
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Twelve months ago, the last things Wayman said to me in this life were<br />
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"You are a strong woman Ruth, and I love you"<br />
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I am so very glad that he did, and I will try to be strong going forward.<br />
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With God as my strength and with His love to envelope me I am complete.<br />
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<br /></div>Ruth Chapmanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16822876061735458576noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2437387665664062965.post-42535162355150189552012-02-03T20:38:00.000-08:002012-02-04T03:38:32.374-08:0040 years ago<div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">Today is my 40th wedding anniversary.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">Of course it seems like a life time ago that Wayman and I were married on a Friday night in a Uniting church in Broadview, Adelaide. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">I was one month past my 20th birthday, and he had turned 21 the week before our wedding.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">We were so young, and deliriously happy!</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQOeJ7r10KwGWmci9h2EyeMPpBsiG1AcOmqR-P93-1cRW2vfsbNa94Oj4e8LsRgbC6hVoQkG6VymAnTSJoNg8pqveOyMpNFnm7hPapg47ypiBFPAaxHEQjx5UgLcD9GppT5T0RBZE80E9p/s400/wedding+1.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5705136057854826370" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 316px; " /></span></div><div><br /></div><div>Our relatives and friends were pleased we chose a Friday night, as they could play their sport the next day, and not miss tennis or cricket to attend a wedding. Back then many people still played organised sport on a Saturday afternoon.</div><div>Actually we were forced to have a Friday night wedding as I had been accepted into a post graduate course in theatre nursing and we left it too late in changing the church booking to have a Saturday, so we changed to Friday night. Daylight saving was quite new and being married at 6pm meant we still had some daylight for photos. </div><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibCO9bNIEHqVsH4fOtsAlDQFKoPzot5gdGvjJubBQ92mlVNP-d2aYIdIiZ96KdCxi1ZQZjPcwuxQwXeSaaYS9lVLdDUXiAZ8f-9fEKd_Dmxgb2eq3OodFSwCkKDMCuRnpXdT-j3nMnNofx/s400/wedding+2.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5705137775516532274" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 396px; " /></span></div><div><br /></div><div>My older sister was maid of honour [she had a 6 week old baby, not bad don't you think?] and the other bridesmaid was a nursing friend. The flower girl was a cousin of Waymans.</div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">Waymans attendants were both work colleagues. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">I spent months planning my wedding, [apart from the last minute change in day!] and I thought we were adding touches that were so different in many small ways. When I look back, it was a wedding of its time. </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">Mum made the dresses except for the flower girls, which was made by her mother</div><div style="text-align: center;">We invited ALL our extended families</div><div style="text-align: center;">The reception was in a community hall</div><div style="text-align: center;">I made the paper flowers that decorated the tables</div><div style="text-align: center;">My Mum wore a hat</div><div style="text-align: center;">Mum and Kate [Waymans Mum] worried about the fact that their outfits were both blue, but in the end they liked their dresses and went with it!</div><div style="text-align: center;">I had a "going away outfit"</div><div style="text-align: center;"><div style="text-align: center; ">The photographers camera malfunctioned, he didn't have a spare, so there are no photos of me arriving at the church. He had to drive across town to get another camera!</div><div style="text-align: center; ">We were given a reel to reel audio copy of the service. </div></div><div style="text-align: center;">We had a little family drama.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>My little sister was overseas and not due home until later. I refused to wait for her to arrive back.....I really wanted to be a scrub nurse in an operating theatre!</i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i><br /></i></div><div style="text-align: center;">Waymans Father had died of a heart attack just 10 months before we were married. </div><div style="text-align: center;">Kate was brave and gracious, allowing us to enjoy our day without any thought of the heartache she must have felt at loosing her only child so soon after Dougs' death.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjym5lL04WXS_3Q4CbNKZHdIgObSxrK3SqoUG1fKUrhDQ0W_NAzkqSZAGPPILFIuuYpqht7ZTil7AM3owrLYBM3DfI-C1GLZbKwAARk6mqbqdSSpp_v6xv5HQ_GMEWl0mjauxKWSA3ylOTs/s400/wedding+4.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5705146787254874066" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 275px; height: 400px; " /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;">She was one classy lady.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">We had speeches, an old farmer, a neighbour, who I had called Uncle Max all my life gave the toast to the bride and groom, and the best man stole the night with a very witty speech that he delivered in grand style.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">I loved my day, not because it was perfect and flawless, in fact it was a bit of an amateur production.</div><div style="text-align: center;">I loved it because I was marrying Wayman. And I think he felt the same about marrying me.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">Isn't that the way it is supposed to be?</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsh0ovykSvaRXoZ3sny1432d02OAUAoWGUtSdtjm_WcRBzHmuoKmNMs1_w8g131oC9RbsynQuyi1vTPa9KI7yyOVTbxQET0hWW84-G7211tECAK-kkT2o0v348vqcmQuDPcyyQW1LBDTnJ/s400/wedding+3.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5705150604143278514" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px; " /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;">It began a wonderful marriage of thirty nine and a quarter years.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">Not bad for a couple of kids.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div>Ruth Chapmanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16822876061735458576noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2437387665664062965.post-29616332108902745782012-01-12T13:39:00.000-08:002012-01-12T20:24:37.157-08:00High tea for my 60th<div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">I turned 60 last week.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">It is easy to type that in, but I have felt the weight of that number as I consider my life choices.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">I decided to celebrate with a few women at home, inviting them to join me for high tea. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">The girls and I had great fun finding Waymans Mothers fine china that has been stored in boxes and cupboards in our homes. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">We pulled out her silver teaspoons and cake forks, found jam and sugar spoons and started to polish them all.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUUbDNFzwwg1lWouk0dqXxVjQOJdTWBC7e-9A6Gc-BtaZ_HQn2cp_Q2oVqkHJG52TvDx2Cx3Ha2tVIXEqmroSQW6XUAOM4kJHPzuwuL7Com2ZG_wFt8HkYR01lR_FM9pwHu9n2fpK_IPBF/s400/high+tea+1.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5696867806794291410" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 248px; " /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; ">Kate had some beautiful things, most of them rarely used, stored for special occasions.</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "> </span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgb1hx5gZAf7s48A5ZOXAs13mBlPLtGg1LTzCNKuCcfPV0ej3PIG43QTM-hlYidwDu5HJ0Uyr5qmw_LR52kcnAYZNtp2NEGkIDMZFdSsou02VHlQXiTcRLAOD36qL7TxgEWCf_GeqV3iEGa/s400/high+tea+2.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5696868307559729906" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 284px; " /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">We decided she would agree that my 60th birthday was special.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">The day started with champagne under the Elm trees.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0ooAdfvAESeNUQvFOMbdt-J5g02WakG3kLj9lome7Z86nY7s-YvhLx_SFdjuK_0TdEgNb27Vnv0Xca1Gs1IiTdj2qxG2FXq98npSwLOsUPQ5vYfvz7OEWiuKk4mN5ruwYvUnRuhgzA8L5/s400/high+tea+3.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5696868989991145682" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 384px; " /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; ">Jill, Jacquie and Alison came from Sydney to join me and meet my Adelaide friends and family.</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnbPOlvG2bgbyRvwHt1AbM8gHsFQQG14padSdj29IuqP1QJuGYcF-_zZV9Ay8rkowpqLAwhgJlWxnG5wbF01jo0-z26EdN1hnefRVqv5izhVVoPJHq7fjjJrR_YNtLDNuC5jjCCrsqNFRl/s400/high+tea+6.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5696869378215113010" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px; " /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; ">The lounge room was converted into a tea room, and we were seated comfortably at little tables, all very British!</span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlaaurAn_YilVsfAG71UW7uhK6XzK9JlOEg7pFoUyc77JWJQty5AxshQ2hlxgB9wLJuUromBFRTOfy0O859wxAZZbgGfnztWA1iuP1xzPj1Vmiju2lWovyyJRFtmVUDHV-80dsVxCHbteL/s400/high+tea+4.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5696869984275724002" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px; " /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><i>What on earth am I doing with the cake fork?</i></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><i>The ladies at my table seem to be ignoring me, a senior moment perhaps?</i></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><i><br /></i></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; ">The food was beautiful and delicious, provided by the wonderful Nicole from the Olive Branch in Balhannah..........</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaeGxZ-pc9oDGnUMNhj2mZq5u_Z8zyoM2XVjLb2EHxg3EYkblA_oPv4KEp6RH6FAgoScUSPAQ1l4XpxpA77zCb2Fc6nsBgwY1PEUt6en3KNGqIu_WtQ8JC7hfvgPMvG5lrG3bhknH40T0F/s400/high+tea+5.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5696871203128658066" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px; " /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">and the tea selections were perfect, with everyone agreeing that there was something for everyone. </div><div style="text-align: center;"> </div><div style="text-align: center;">My Mother came for the celebration. If I live as long as her, there will be plenty of time for senior moments!</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>note to self: try not to poke out friends eye with cake fork next time you have one in your hand!</i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i><br /></i></div><div style="text-align: center;">My deeper thoughts on turning 60 are wrapped up in the Bible verse I have posted in the side bar.</div>Ruth Chapmanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16822876061735458576noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2437387665664062965.post-80628947025266996352011-12-21T02:47:00.000-08:002011-12-21T17:00:42.961-08:00A festive street<div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div>Steph and Shane live in a pretty street. Steph is very community conscious and three years ago she decided to decorate her block of their street with red ribbons on the street trees at Christmas. She door knocked as many neighbours as possible and then proceeded to put the ribbons up at night, with Shanes help. It took her a few evenings to complete the task. <div><br /></div><div>Apparently one lady who she hadn't spoken to, rang the council during the process complaining that she didn't have a ribbon, and demanding to know when were they coming to do her tree! </div><div><br /></div><div>Last year Steph left the ribbon in peoples letter boxes with a request for them to put them up, but I think they didn't all meet her high standards in ribbon artistry so she abandoned that idea.</div><div>.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>She buys red plastic tablecloths by the roll and cuts it into strips, so each year they start with fresh ribbon.</i> </div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">This year a neighbour helped her, and the street is beautifully adorned again.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_b-J_LMA9Yn_2y9UBSXPIQ35SCFKM-QZ9lb-DWjvZ54hSA8G6ewRLl0dXfnYh6EjM6zZ5JpsulHG7L3RqxzacixcDHgxY3jsVgjM7XjP-_84MUOc1sQVDdDIb8KVtyIk1IlaXM7axiOLU/s400/bows+5.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5688533188066803570" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 216px; " /></span></div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">Most of the houses have Agapanthus and lawn on the verge, so the red ribbons look very festive........but some don't take as much interest in the streetscape</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div> </div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpAu-Kbk_WOOFzf5hoUU1kUQJAHBD8UZkwuBTGQf9IAgGxWmdhwRwOYF3ajtDO7NOl9bPvyhit5tDO-kpMv9QZba_ZuLH6AXwtuGDTW2ss9HORmJtdasj_JvMDvNkdsf_SR9iThjKw3-FE/s400/bows+4.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5688533326263802722" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 341px; " /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#333333;">but they still have a ribbon to brighten their footpath.</span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#333333;"><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#333333;">Even the vacant block has two!</span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#333333;"><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLqg_BNCWWU3M8O4beYtKKIaYsdV90BWy3sllgGGqOyTGCCmyNXY_TchUlGSyrw6dnEW5ZiyBAPSlRvM0aeltffCycfbpx2Q_zMzg5J2IVTIwBtTW64zx8zSxvC_jY1RxzuVJPk16a51TG/s400/bows+1.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5688533654152873858" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 299px; " /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><br /></span></div><div><div style="text-align: center;">everyone is treated the same</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrbFGF1YamZasuqDrRKWWnNIdB4FVZWS33RF6aNCvnQeOZTquXsEfYxlfPyZDQ6i27wM0KD-f7UT5x64jl3wBf2w9aEDFvfPcuWcdcq4DVoe4guDYEIzDgu74_x179fOaxkUaIXxeLkPwf/s400/bows+6.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5688532257064040338" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 236px; " /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; ">They have found it a wonderful way to get to know their neighbours, and now Jont rides his bike along the footpath, and talks to Ben and G</span></span>erry, and Dot, and Di, he thinks it is quite normal to know many of the people on his block. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6DI4t7y-ZN3gDi1sS11n9Yuk8YmCWeUiNWkA0tXGAYmo0207gXmli33XTN1zcFsopQRzUwuPoRQiTAlKo3y4WH6ZBxdPMAXsXm1-DJ7BwCUl6432sQGvJqGwJ8faZqO1lXOVDVASkM4Rn/s400/bows+2.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5688533553241907266" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 299px; height: 400px; " /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">And in a small way one family is helping their community to celebrate Christmas.</div><div><br /></div></div>Ruth Chapmanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16822876061735458576noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2437387665664062965.post-89187410236967984172011-12-13T12:30:00.000-08:002011-12-13T14:31:18.002-08:00.....and my real BFF<div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">What a friend we have in Jesus,</div><div style="text-align: center;">all our sins and griefs to bear!</div><div style="text-align: center;">what a privilege to carry </div><div style="text-align: center;">everything to God in prayer!</div><div style="text-align: center;">O what peace we often forfeit, </div><div style="text-align: center;">O what needless pain we bear, </div><div style="text-align: center;">all because we do not carry,</div><div style="text-align: center;">everything to God in prayer.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">Have we trials and temptations?</div><div style="text-align: center;">Is there trouble anywhere?</div><div style="text-align: center;">We should never be discouraged:</div><div style="text-align: center;">take it to the Lord in prayer.</div><div style="text-align: center;">Can we find a friend so faithful,</div><div style="text-align: center;">who will all our sorrows share?</div><div style="text-align: center;">Jesus knows our every weakness:</div><div style="text-align: center;">take it to the Lord in prayer.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">Are we weak and heavy-laden,</div><div style="text-align: center;">cumbered with a load of care?</div><div style="text-align: center;">Precious Saviour, still our refuge:</div><div style="text-align: center;">take it to the Lord in prayer.</div><div style="text-align: center;">Do your friends despise, forsake you?</div><div style="text-align: center;">Take it to the Lord in prayer:</div><div style="text-align: center;">in his arms he'll take and shield you,</div><div style="text-align: center;">you will find a solace there.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div>Ruth Chapmanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16822876061735458576noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2437387665664062965.post-87738711170878242752011-12-09T04:42:00.000-08:002011-12-09T12:06:41.166-08:00My new BFF<div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">My love/hate relationship with the birds on my property is continuing.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">I really love the diversity of bird life, from the magpies and willy wagtails to the ducks that make my dam home while they raise their chicks. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">But the destructive habits of some of them really makes it hard to appreciate them.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">The roses continue to be a target for the lorikeets, and I am continuing to battle for supremacy in that theatre of warfare.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">But a new enemy has arisen. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">The sulphur crested cockatoos are trying to destroy my lawn, and just for fun they poop all over my outdoor furniture!</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">So I have a new best friend......</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiY1tMF7bAyM1bL4nkpnVxChGOPYePgSHMxavDChEL8C8_PCOeF86aWo7AwAtoafA-DKGtH24GID-U62KQTFsQV7n57Ey2QggY-2sfxctIibsG4fRhyphenhyphengm5TcrReDE6p8xNuqPSfU0V_by6L/s400/owl+1.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5684109562851951426" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 261px; height: 400px; " /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; ">I am hopeful that this fearsome looking owl will discourage any toilet action by these birds on my table. He is perched on the front patio to help them to find another place to empty their bowels.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQFD2npGbKovfAV8d9ysOG8SiEa_taz5bwNhT42OkOFG8K7Y-fnAdq5AE1UIPzUZM145sD6KsfsIw2B6D_thej26WNsHvRvNzjdzmkIJW5LtQdB-78xb2kHnk3i96SvXtqkosp_TTXIg97/s400/owl+2.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5684110603847997938" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 256px; " /></span></div><div><br /></div><div>I have another one on the coffee table, and one sitting in the middle of the lawn to stop the destruction of the lawn. I always go over board with a new idea! I bought the updated model, that has a solar panel on its head so that the eyes glow at night to stop any nocturnal activity.</div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">Pretty good don't you think?</div><div style="text-align: center;">And very classy sitting on my front patio. </div><div style="text-align: center;">I wonder what my daughters will think of my taste in outdoor art?</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">Well, when you consider that they are replacing Bob the gnome I think it is an improvement.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqiQJsOYmBSREwC74q1kJ61921B06fvzKrdPWLHtcT4kSfVgoIIjF2XoOl8MDCyMdYR3uH_Tdq9SxlNxE9jDdmzR0DODkXBUQP5gnHuFih5Tpf3zSpn5P6jkIwhQhAEZI9oR7x7YNoHpqK/s400/Bob.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5684112825757004450" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 299px; height: 400px; " /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;">Bob wasn't originally meant to be on guard against these predators and really he isn't very scary with his cute little ukelele and red mushroom.</div><div style="text-align: center;">Even the scar on his forehead from a mishap in the rockery hasn't made the birds respect him.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">So I think I will retire Bob back to the anonymity of the garden where the little boys can play hide and seek with him and he doesn't have to worry about pesky birds pooping on his little red cap.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">I'll leave the work of guarding my property to the plastic owls, with googly eyes, and a fearsome scowl.........and a solar panel on their head.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">Cool, sophisticated, noice! </div><div><br /></div>Ruth Chapmanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16822876061735458576noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2437387665664062965.post-59063582211959654732011-12-05T12:07:00.000-08:002011-12-09T15:56:49.204-08:00Suits in the city<div style="text-align: center;">I have just returned from a visit to Sydney.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">It was my first on my own. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">I chose this time as it coincided with the AGM of "Waymans" company, and I decided that I was brave enough to attend. I stayed with wonderful friends who allowed me room to remember with delight the 9 years I had lived there. I have many memories of Sydney that are specific to my own life, but I wanted on this visit, to remember Wayman. As I visited people and places I made a list that particularly related to him. </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">It isn't profound, but I thought I would share it with you. I didn't take any photos, it wasn't that sort of trip. There is no order, and I apologise if it is bit boring, as most of the list relates to things that we did, just the two of us. But they helped me to remember us, living ordinary lives in a truly beautiful city.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>Men in suits in the city</div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>Pages and Pages book shop</div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>Hayden Orpheum picture theatre</div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>Indian myna birds scavenging on the streets</div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>McIntosh of Mosman</div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>Illawarra Street</div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>The ferry ride from Mosman Bay to Circular Quay</div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>Fanuli furniture</div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>Allan Border oval</div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>Queen Victoria building</div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>Crystal carwash cafe</div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>the walk from the piazza to the church at St Thomas'</div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>Rihani menswear in Mosman</div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>Little Sirius cove</div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>Rubicor</div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>Jane, Kevin and Sharad</div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>Coffee group at St Ives</div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>Qantas club</div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>the cross word in the inflight magazine</div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>having to "lean in" to hear Gwens' lilting Irish accent </div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>Balmoral Beach</div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>the drive on Archibald road to St Ives</div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>the men who were Waymans friends</div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>Lastly, the ferry terminal at Mosman bay. I managed to be brave most of the time, but here <span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>I admit I had a good cry. </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Wayman would drive to work most days toward the end of our stay, but occasionally he would catch the ferry. He would ring me as the ferry was coming around Cremorne Point and I would drive down to Mosman Bay to pick him up. There is short term parking where you can watch the passengers as they alight from the ferry, and I would sit in the car and watch the suits as they filed off the green and gold ferry waiting to catch the first glimpse of him. Wayman always looked the same at the end of the day as he did at the beginning, his tie still tied, his coat on even on the warmest day. At the end of the day he still looked immaculate. He would stride toward the car, with his satchel under his arm and always, always, he was pleased to see me.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"> </div><div style="text-align: center;">This time my heart ached as I watched the people coming off the ferry, knowing that my man wasn't among them. </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div>Ruth Chapmanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16822876061735458576noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2437387665664062965.post-87294546047474308682011-11-25T02:31:00.000-08:002011-11-25T02:49:52.956-08:00Would you choose ........here?<div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">I visited my mum today, and she was very keen to take me out into her backyard.</div><div style="text-align: center;">We often enjoy a walk there, as she is keen gardener, and while my brother-in-law Roger does most of the work, Mum takes great pride in her flowers. </div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">But today she had something different to show me. </div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">We had to use the sliding door out of her living area, rather than the laundry door, I wondered why. </div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">When we were outside, Mum directed my attention to................</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIFQE-WK0aXmRNJ-mexWaMO32sNl9jbZKyWcpvwpSq0R-PYWD8_N8nT7XnDRg4v2T-wuhIVHZeEWDc5OIqph9xuXk-qBg6kSaQEALZZfwbsBkNEIDh6vpWMntrvlAditWDCsvJ5Dq2MArB/s400/nest+1.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5678880203002220658" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 299px; height: 400px; " /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; ">her 2 mops and outside broom. You can imagine my excitement!!!!!</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; ">Mum has a cleaning lady, so she doesn't use the mops much, but the outdoor broom is usually in use fairly regularly. </span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; ">But the mystery remained. </span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; ">She beckoned me to examine them more closely............</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3pxtOzA5TflwOdTF0PGUUhZTPgIdUO-EKMEricSkEgRk0xCp0BENfeMQhX-REp7fvxBceAqqlArKEpWuQg4VrnAm6WsGoHdAaWIrwjlTPwQmwCDRIxs4k_S2tTxXv6L7oeAh4WzsuTM29/s400/nest+2.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5678882408844667122" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 368px; height: 400px; " /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; ">There tucked in behind the broom was a birds nest, perched on top of the mops. </span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; ">Mum has been watching it for a couple of weeks now, avoiding using her laundry door, respecting the privacy of the occupants.</span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; ">and this is the result..........</span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5fpIBlFXFqeQ4XxhFglJLNg01l4OJtre1F3yNkNBn0xSUidTYTr7wlVY4EFPIYAf9tDNDWlG9NCMznHyloAbVK-FJiVGfi4Jkx9XHADqie9QheHW67T_owrA8zSLWeWSuDju6AMm5H2sx/s400/nest+3.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5678881509284693426" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 312px; " /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; ">three tiny little chicks cuddled up on top of Mums domestic floor cleaning equipment!</span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; ">Would you choose ....... here?</span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; ">I just hope that the whole thing doesn't collapse as the chicks grow, and that Mums' cleaning lady continues to bring her own supplies!</span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; ">To avoid any disasters we bought a new mop today, as a precaution.</span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><br /></span></span></div><div><br /></div>Ruth Chapmanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16822876061735458576noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2437387665664062965.post-30712401037042594632011-11-22T02:53:00.000-08:002011-11-22T03:49:05.200-08:00Prayer<div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><i>We are currently doing a series on prayer at our church. Each week our minister has asked someone to talk on praying before he speaks. A few weeks ago he asked me. In sharing </i><div><i> with my church family about prayer I was honest enough to admit that I have found it difficult at times over the past 15 months to pray. But I am trying to put in place some things that will help me to pray more regularly. </i></div><div><i><br /></i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>I thought I would tell you too about my strategy to pray more.</i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>So here is an excerpt from my talk. </i></div><div><div style="text-align: left;"><i><br /></i></div><div style="text-align: left;"> I found it hard to pray when I faced great personal loss and deep grief. There were times when I just cried out to God. But I know that he wants me to talk to Him, and so I have thought about some things that might be helpful.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span> Being honest with ourselves about our prayer life is very important. Do we pray? How<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span> often do we pray? Do we sit quietly and pray or is it usually when we are on the move? It helps us to make changes or to try to pray more regularly if we are honest with ourselves.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span> I know that it requires discipline to pray. Like all things that are good for me, [for example<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>physical exercise] it takes commitment to pray. I am not fooled into thinking that it will one day become easy. Yes it is a delight and becomes more so, the longer I practice the discipline, but it will always require me to make time for it.<br /><br /><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span> I must be intentional about praying. By that I mean if I want to pray while my grand daughter is napping, I have to be intentional leading up to that. It is very easy to get side tracked into just clearing the kitchen bench, or putting on a load of washing. If I want to pray before leaving the house for the day, I need to keep an eye on the clock as I eat breakfast so I don't run out of time. I have chosen not to have a set time each day, as each day is different. Instead, I am trying to set a time that morning in keeping with the days activities.<br /><br /><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span> An important thing for me is to have a specific place to pray in my house. It is good to have somewhere where you can close the door. Also I have a chair that isn't too comfortable! Praying in a cosy chair will put me to sleep in an instant! At the moment I pray at my desk. This is where I conduct the business of life, so I pray surrounded by photos of people, reminders of chores to be done, and all the issues I am dealing with. It helps me to pray for people and about events that are happening.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>This is my new favourite cosy chair. It is in the office near the desk, and it beckons me to sit in it at prayer time. I resist the temptation knowing it is very comfortable!</i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i><br /></i></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUsskTZ_pJbZiUioH-d15Lb6mPCCecUwcBhvR177eIIgiBjl1CDMtmRXe3s76GHeqndSGlhrhcjdBv7zbFwt9mqogW4X9lCisDvuqY4vNHejGFgy16Ww4lioTeN2Gd5q28pUqh662XlfIP/s400/chair.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5677771576188145202" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 386px; height: 400px; " /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /><br /><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span> I read the Bible before praying. This isn't Bible study, just a few verses to help me to focus on God. I find if I don't start with this, my prayers are very selfish. At the moment I am reading Hebrews and loving the focus on who Jesus is.<br /><br /><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span> Lastly I have a simple plan. It is really basic.<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span><br /><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>Adoration</div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>Thanksgiving</div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>Repentance</div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>Requests.</div><div><br /></div><div>This is my blue print, and while I have presented it to you, I by no means am achieving this regularly in my life, but I am trying to take ownership of my prayer life. </div><div><br /></div><div><br /><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span></div></div><div style="text-align: left;"><i>So dear readers, that is some of what I presented on Sunday morning. Many of you I know talk regularly with God. Some of you might never have done so. He is waiting for you. Why not find out more about Jesus and start to talk to Him. Oh yes, and if you want to know more about my church our website is <span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span></i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>www.trinitymountbarker.org.au</i></div><div style="text-align: left;"><i><br /></i></div></div>Ruth Chapmanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16822876061735458576noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2437387665664062965.post-68040931426214640582011-11-13T12:33:00.000-08:002011-11-13T13:58:28.018-08:00Taking on new jobs<div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4xWpRekdRSdacieRBm-_2IvwdZ8Xbl96xxa0xv63N1QOO6Dk14h__32p6hAw6bIx9esMhp7-LSVt1HBpLzvtQDID-hfUqLHQu2xfar2hc0aHMUQLu2U8HzZGB07dA9mtvSbtHda0Yh-LD/s1600/2+stroke.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"></a><div style="text-align: center;">It has amazed me over the past six months, the number of "jobs" that were Waymans.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Like mowing the lawns, and opening wine bottles with corks, towing the trailer, and cleaning the gutters. He wasn't a real out doors man, and he didn't really understand cars, but he knew when the wheels needed to be balanced, <i>[he always noticed that it needed doing after I had tried to park somewhere and had run into the kerb! I never seemed to get away with it!] </i>He<i> </i>always kept our cars beautifully clean, inside and out. He used to clean my shoes for me, and he would do the small painting jobs on the house. It was Waymans job to pack the dishwasher. Lindy did it when the family came for a BBQ on Friday, and she has her Fathers ability to stack the maximum amount of dishes in.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">I miss him terribly, and while some jobs are easy for me take on, I am learning to do others for the first time. My boys are wonderful, and they are helping me too. </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">I am sure that most people in the western world know what 2 stroke fuel is, but it is new knowledge to me. Cam showed me last week how to make it, when he was teaching me how to use the leaf blower. </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">Even my American stockbroker knows the formula, "lube and gas" </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizDiQ5kYla5Xwcl87Yko4Pq5Mh7BXd_2XIJypVW-pPch5Nndnzq4mc3Iq8m7fMWB06ePuxKjVK6hQdpUOwsr_RD8ygmRN-hWLGEagEewC0gFrCHoABUe64F_AKWD5ZBoGrZiZP_-isvKCu/s400/2+stroke.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5674585681290507442" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 299px; " /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;">I have mastered the art of the pull start 2 stroke engine on the leaf blower, but I find the mulching machine a bit of challenge. Steph and I tried it some months ago, and we both are a bit frightened of it, so we are leaving that one for now.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">But the leaf blower is a friendly little machine, and on my property is a very useful tool. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">I used it on the driveway this week, as the gum trees are dropping leaves at the moment, and it was beautifully clean on 20 minutes!</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTH5nxabUX2LbrBatfb8rhJFQ4dZnNNEcI8FoYrZntqwEomerE9Ns1skuS_x3ZukgfNq9v8z9LVlhtkrG_zAtgikzUHBw7xH0wQMc9vnmvp9jJqasLtdcOFCACuPDqFQVNlgB9ku65aOyy/s400/Driveway.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5674585082798001714" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 299px; height: 400px; " /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">I then decided to try the tennis court, that is a bit more of a challenge, as the leaves kept swirling up and over my head. I decided that it is a bit like herding sheep, it works better with less noise and bluster, and more gentle coaxing. </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNRB2vVD73c6wTFUO6FlYcDRiwaRWZguS1qwUOscoXSH-cgze42kcyRKWUYfQylVgI6QYHXyQn5DbX0MFt3Zekv77Ycf84FD_8yG32E457Qkw5owvIVGy8k8rZvBqDThG2yV9OtKWGlxUU/s400/tennis+court.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5674584976744659922" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 299px; " /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;">I also discovered that even a gentle breeze is your enemy if you are trying to do this job.</div><div style="text-align: center;">I had just finished and the wind gave a couple little puffs and this was the result!</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcjHsgrqrdfSNnTztAEvl45KwsQ_KErpuOiSWJwVg8pVnC-Nc_FQPAIP-y3-ujLT7JJTy0mlfJ3185P1mzprslFdAdhBOKrJtgWZI5aYY2bCcW8jbH43jGxe7yfweZYVevXutpRVY8xFD4/s400/tennis+court+2.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5674584875631160706" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 299px; " /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; ">So the week begins, and my list of jobs is </span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>plant some lawn runners in a bare spot</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>stake the tomato plants</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>mow the lawns</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>harvest the duck weed off the dam <i>[apparently it makes very good compost]</i></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="font-style: italic; white-space: pre; "> </span>make the compost</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>spread some mulch on the garden beds</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>plant lettuces and a watermelon plant <i>[the pumpkins are already in]</i></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="font-style: italic; white-space: pre; "> </span>do some painting touch-ups around the house</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>.......and perhaps I might try to blow the leaves off the tennis court again!</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div>Ruth Chapmanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16822876061735458576noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2437387665664062965.post-15357621232644022422011-11-02T22:12:00.000-07:002011-11-02T23:03:24.130-07:00Grandmas day<div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">Today I had my first ever Grandparents day at school.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">C has chosen to call it Grandmas day, and that's fine with me. </div><div style="text-align: center;">It is a bit daunting to arrive at a day like this on your own, but I was cared for immediately by friends who I don't know very well, but who took me under their wing compassionately. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">We started in chapel, this is the view I had of C sitting with his teacher and friends.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmw11FTsAV0l454FLNoK5Z6w_aJqee5DtB8tJEf74IdLuvxKkmMHeKB_Ee4XKS2NW9VZfunDvVk0_JMJYy2bAQJUGCVdiuSqcchzlj03Eh4OQHuotzbHSu89ty8feG1mkFUoQSAOblVCjH/s400/C+at+chapel.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5670634021328982162" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 269px; height: 400px; " /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;">We then had time in his class room looking at his work, he showed me around the school, and I enjoyed morning tea with other GPs. this was followed by a school presentation. All is well in the world when primary school students are given a clarinet and put in the school band to entertain us with songs arranged to include the few notes that they can play. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">I remember that stage all to clearly!</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">The highlight of the day was at the end.</div><div style="text-align: center;">We were meant to bring lunch to have with the children.</div><div style="text-align: center;">I had stayed a little longer in the concert hall than many others talking to an old friend, and I thought rather than eating my lunch with C, I would just quickly visit him in his area, and say goodbye. </div><div style="text-align: center;"> </div><div style="text-align: center;">Cs teacher saw me coming across the yard, and I heard her say, "Here she is Charlie!"</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">He had worried that I wasn't coming. He had saved half his lunch for me, </div><div style="text-align: center;">two rather battered triangles of vegemite sandwich and the left over crumbs from his muffin.</div><div style="text-align: center;">He shared his drink bottle with me, I am glad his Mum has provided the type that does not allow any "backwash"!</div><div style="text-align: center;">I felt very loved as I sat awkwardly on the common area floor.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">Gods plan to put us into families is pretty good, don't you think? </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div>Ruth Chapmanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16822876061735458576noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2437387665664062965.post-20268375929301964642011-10-29T20:44:00.000-07:002011-10-29T21:51:39.845-07:00The war of the roses<div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div>I love my roses. To live on my property, you have to love roses, there are dozens of bushes, and that means a lot of pruning and spraying, and caring.<div><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">At the moment I am at war to protect my roses!!!!</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">I don't mind the usual enemies, things like black spot, or aphids, I know how to fight them, and currently I am winning these battles, as my gold bunnies attest.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXuavLgt5LwroCmL4Al-xuoxyAl5cunWbjXG4WiqSC35W6PlNY41BIgbLrK7V-V_19w92h7Zsfs2_Gi0DYkQO_Dkfpxf9WMqWbrG1AACQ6so2-81A3VIHe4ya8J4GcN2GR-etNJuI7G4H9/s400/Roses+2.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5669126979618758290" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 299px; height: 400px; " /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; ">But there is a more sinister enemy out there that is trying to decimate my bushes.</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoLtNBeQGZVB-OVMutezYLrYj4YFJNlOX_uFdatKSv6rJi-wbWNYiQ6ghPMdmW-Zh8_PGbxAI8UdfXl5ACiaBlI68qW4DKT-cNivNM9PAzfNqvIXigtNYRn1q-bR8L1CW6NpEYy7KPEjZ0/s400/Rainbow_Lorikeet_Heidelberg030425.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5669127664954665138" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 320px; " /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; color:#0000ee;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;">These beautiful native rainbow lorikeets are everywhere here in the hills, and they are extremely destructive, orchardists have to net their fruit trees to stop them eating their crops.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">This is what they do to my precious roses:</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">Before:</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjL9D1JmwdPgLvE0DQRupKjxPEIx81qWFNn227AchjhJtx5EZGuxxY2E1rVK4seD103vqdyhgxnGeX8cA93FH-yAqnV6JOMKHI-AJAjMmOGOshsqUfk5osMsQApMZKgABe_P3HkZ4qZipn_/s400/Roses+3.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5669128759197902034" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 299px; " /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">After:</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJpDKXuRvNy3693gC3XhAIZF08FigAkAgw54TFkPlfjBtxYB81_6C9DOh3V8Yh2LqPUORUCyRKVgXKEw1xTjqaAyFn-bTYt-DTRT2ol8X0VEQZHNlRaPeS8j7uyAY4pZORXThHvpeK8Mv4/s400/roses+4.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5669128865763550066" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 299px; " /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; ">Again, before:</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCU6RZoU6HUzz-Gsktr6JiFSUAV2ZnWlD36HfpJkPOhMSiDvpbJPc5N_cT8nBIb-9u7-5ROJUV5mEhX7X0RyJqY4x6N0yiTzrdXaEbeJn66lOKTB-EH2x1ywgNwEdoic16Ewy6HP7cZ2tW/s400/Roses+5.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5669130762926307954" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 299px; " /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; ">and after:</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPUmF5kdzniS4Pc_4TmNKob8VwHXbjvbHe0I4d1b9B1_2ekT1zhxz7l9cYWCFYWyslaA_cCmy4DToBFACQkK-eaIPaMKP9LbPaO0VahufVWDYqKROjTrtjcv-h_qWEmmza871aFLqTZRr3/s400/Roses+6.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5669129030236320034" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 299px; " /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; ">I'm sure you would agree this is very disturbing, as they are simply being destructive, sucking the sap out of the new shoots, leaving the flowers to wilt, and the plant with no new growth.</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; ">Here is an example of their work......</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqv96Hh-wSc-0OIU037-acsOM6WIzMBl47cJp_t0v09iztQnrdXFTHOyy48umlPiDbRBMSdS0G_LM1oIs4Ue5TS1wc-qyw-Jk4gQ_lu5dIx4l0Nvav-5tg5vx-munXZjaKMD7ZOdmTsflr/s400/Roses+6a.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5669129209279775922" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 299px; " /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">so I have declared WAR on these monsters of the sky!!!!</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">They strike, when I am at my most vulnerable, using guerilla tactics, usually swooping before dawn. Now, I have been through an exhaustive investigation of the tactics available to me and here are my findings:</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">1. I could run around flapping my arms in my PJs at 6am to scare them off, but that really doesn't appeal to me, and could be a bit embarrassing if I am spotted by the neighbours.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">2. I could hang CD discs from the bushes to scare them off. This has been tried by others with limited success but I like to listen to my CDs, and besides I think a garden full of shiny discs hanging from bits of string looks a bit naff.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">3. I could put nets over the bushes, but what's the point of having them if I can't see the flowers?</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">4. So this is my preferred method of attack:</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAmwr724YglGRuplSzECcazXXaPYSSrk7xt-t-5wMef8rd8eBjdjVm9feBCryDP6IoIucCPq7n7gywCCrdTPrIaao2Jd363KuQX2Xd_OWcZk5RZltivXB9twMlX9Y6lLxdkqxkw5hzJ9RC/s400/Roses+7.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5669130060735482210" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 299px; " /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; ">I boil up a mixture of these potent ingredients, and spray them on the bushes!!!!!!</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; ">The poor little birdies don't like the taste and go away!</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; ">And if this doesn't work my gardener has some really foul smelling stuff that is my last line of defence.</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; ">Chemical warfare .............as a last resort! </span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; ">Be afraid pretty little birdies, be very afraid!</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><i>Please be aware that the aim is not to harm rainbow lorikeets at Elmbrook simply to stop them from ruining my roses! </i></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><i><br /></i></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><i> </i></span></div>Ruth Chapmanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16822876061735458576noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2437387665664062965.post-31057283666361241202011-10-20T01:35:00.000-07:002011-10-20T05:40:00.398-07:00Lions of Singapore..... and other things.<div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div>Lindy and Gus invited me to share their family trip to Singapore which was part holiday and also an opportunity for them to connect with Gus' sister and her family there.</div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">The children coped well with the flight, and arrived ready to greet the Lions of Singapore.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">First were the statues in front of the Takashimaya shopping mall....</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyg0oa6RPozbPPEll2ti3n8am9XQFC3SwdaEBxo12uoffmaRUsdu7bkKQWNo544aEktIxNDZRyFqxJV4f2oyxn7ZMkH5IrBCRtBaV5PrUV2LS0JEL3uQAzWfNeDhW8NrGTom-UBdkl2N5B/s400/Lions+1.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5665491560226894130" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 264px; height: 400px; " /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><br /></span></div><div><br /><div style="text-align: center;">We were much more interested in the interior of the shopping malls, but that had to wait!</div></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">Then we saw the Merlion.....</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjw3PIMcXBkN5RCin7YYj5zYKqAAK7diTrtL3BlReBdot9iektS5FcnHHneFK0XBNoYoehB9fbLMK-7TtpXHc9qA2ZpHtdqe4gdPQLgylWYWqWOMoP9DbuQf06UwrkM_eHRrmZqh8ptCCBr/s400/Lions+2.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5665494457836907810" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 388px; " /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;">Miss P had just been harassed by a group of Japanese tourists who wanted to take her photo, and she was a little un-nerved by the experience so we have the back of her head!</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">We then discovered these cute little versions on our way to the Marina Bay complex...</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhA_8Kb2i9TtYV58FtsiNpv4GOLf00E69wgpUHoGmL1RyVX1J7q9KVXLcWSsSxVYMwhl9qFplKagYvrxEZhLYccqsWVoSaTjnpxrRDg2vC36vjlBqbdThL_QS9tLB7TxgS0PIByrQD6L6fF/s400/Lions+3.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5665491927318963906" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 400px; " /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">The Marina Bay Sands hotel is simply mind boggling!</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTGOXrDcpkUeERKvCVxwCvaueMBD14mHCbnEcqlJYA0Cjd53Dr6DEHPZlp3Ifcj3DaXu1z8E_XKktzag8Xe2YWfoP4ONt9nEoxmxrBeopnrySUgXrv0YuIv3z22Na2pj7Lz8NFmBGU_1KG/s400/Marina+bay+sands.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5665492043477568242" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 247px; " /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">and as we walked through the mall we discovered this lion was coming to town!</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpd32nZ6MDT2QNv1TdFS8a1Wo8rxVd2XFOnjCqnA7cergmayJvcMckyxNzT8AKsDrTaI68lbV_xvqJJNotn6s_2CBGuJ-Le-yT5rjhKDYhlwh0KnToqMST53oYgmIddPEmuvn9D6noqulU/s400/lions+4.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5665492151972973778" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 299px; height: 400px; " /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">Lindy and Gus had dinner at the top of the hotel to celebrate his sisters birthday... I declined the invitation to join them to mind the children, and to avoid having to go to the top of that building,</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">however....</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">a ride on the Singapore flyer was the next activity!</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>[you can see it in the distance in the photo of the hotel, it doesn't look very high but it is nearly as high as the hotel}</i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiTXg7sTVE3AtGvhwMQYBEwxM5e5bdzJHASGuTe-xKN4yAf5OKeXUqhOFq0Wvh8VN0jC6UcWLPkqPrckPJ_4U1sP-ZiDTuNoXmxc2umkBjvUnnCo67A1_pzy7PcnFKdfvvjCcff8W10RQc/s400/R+sin+flyer+2.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5665492351420022738" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 299px; " /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; ">Can you see the cars on the freeway? we were only half way up!!!</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; ">C was also a little anxious, and at about this point, he strapped himself into the stroller for protection.</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; ">No-one had the heart to tell him the facts of gravity and strollers, and very great heights, after all he is only 5!</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfchW88jC9NCe2ylZ_j485jy2bd76tf3kUkrTXCZ2aKZhJb3LlWZPoV2nyhvPMx9uEeYgj01koIopNqMcwWEYK1sP3xuZ7sgNEmAnAN6mB4kwX33bxMhSNYUNRhVigZcTdJqo6QegQ4QjT/s400/C+sing+flyer.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5665492438876171314" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 299px; height: 400px; " /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; ">We visited the zoo, the lions there were asleep with their backsides pointing at us, so I didn't bother with a photo shoot, but C fed the elephants with his cousins.</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSVaEHjCKygZVMe9v2_lLk7qN_FGZ-1u6nGq8_cCLzySc75Elp5HuK9rluQtbSm8NKj4bUNLVfTT-WtJl2mDAuwhh8dQluPvgjxZXX81Py40val8c7-QeD2GpfDQ3P0PPmyUG1E5bPz1mz/s400/Zoo.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5665492242381264258" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 299px; height: 400px; " /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; ">We then had a morning at the childrens' science centre ,</span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; ">Miss P played the chimes</span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdAPvEL4DWICeXJB3UP2ruPLss5vsXqGUIODPmAUQdb7HMXQ9xuCHaDk4YhI8V4Fti9ZmpGzNQZIxrH6kflg009lvMend3znLToqcekcaLkWkPs1uhkC4f1_Frgwh8531QthzVpQpluEa4/s400/P+at+chimes.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5665492552391573362" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 265px; height: 400px; " /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; ">And C served his head on a platter for us</span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3cqNYXisFTedoZf4WIA4LmpoJeLvhUczJXP3f7_DcswEhh3KW7yBmjBoFGvP5BtPCZF9nZMIVI4EGaiqBmPWtTGDQpoheCpnUAvMEIRwHXpiVzLl45hwgyeX0cOWuICONtaKsf2eEGTcS/s400/C+head+on+plate.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5665492651557014338" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 359px; height: 400px; " /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; ">It was a wonderful time with this dear family doing all the things that little people enjoy. But I did see some of the arcades with the amazing array of designer boutiques and even dropped in on a fashion parade!</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizOOdUBKhs9cT6C3b2eQrKZsj7SvW0lUP8yGO0OQqEJaUES-VF64YM1yNbR-ebrSNQNyL-6d1jHbsar0_S6-loKD64PqRWD-wbr1MmoePYD1CR2ohHzPHGAB6FeIkVy8RdVEDpqReUoS8s/s400/Fashion.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5665517104655361346" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px; " /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; ">The highlight of the week for me was really rather simple. I had time with Belinda just the two of us, something that is in short supply, as she is busy young Mum, with many responsibilities. She is a woman with great general knowledge, and can talk on many different topics, and I loved having time with her discussing history, politics and our christian walk.</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; ">Her Dad would have loved being in these conversations.</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; ">I can't finish this blog without including one last Lion. </span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; ">I shared my room with C and he was a wonderful room mate. </span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; ">But if I needed to have a little "Grannie" time I would turn on the TV to the Singapore cartoon station </span>and he would happily watch Tom and Jerry.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">So this lion became an integral part of our days, roaring at the start of each cartoon.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgasRxtKZ2i7g5AcfYWuAWeit5_o8kO4FE9fMx2gwgdZrMnlbTxbVpOtHnyyuCDTSMIeeIeB_LIAkRsAQst98ccrLfYxC8_9GOupGgb5x2711wBj2jU9f-fQ4lWzpZ9onMHeMzB_0WXUKa5/s400/FThing+Hap+60.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5665493562803072882" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 227px; " /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; ">The same cartoons were probably playing 23 years ago when Wayman and I took our family to Singapore for their first overseas holiday </span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><br /></span></div>Ruth Chapmanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16822876061735458576noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2437387665664062965.post-81120821052784529752011-10-03T04:29:00.000-07:002011-10-03T05:40:28.436-07:00A holiday in SingaporeTomorrow I head to Singapore for a week with Belinda and her family. <div>I have packed my bag, and am ready to go. Having flown to Nashville to see Cassie and Nathan in August, I am not feeling anxious about going without Wayman. </div><div><br /></div><div>But there is something about this trip that has made me realise how much my life has changed.</div><div>With Wayman we always managed to fly premium economy or business class on long trips. He had the FF statis to be able to obtain upgrades whenever he needed to. </div><div><br /></div><div>Now I am on my own, I haven't got that pull. It has made me realise how much we can take for granted a position of privilege. This time there is no extra baggage, or leg room, no priority boarding, and no white cloth on the meal tray. It is a humbling thing when these extras are removed. </div><div style="text-align: center;">Why am I telling you this? </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">This tiny inconvenience has made me think about how much Jesus gave up. His position as king was put aside so he could become a man, and not a man of privilege, but an ordinary man. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">He would not have had priority boarding, or a white cloth on the meal tray, he would have had an economy class seat.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">And he did it to give me a way to have a relationship with him.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div>I am humbled, and repentant of my sense of loss, and expectation that privilege is my right.</div><div><br /></div><div> I am grateful that my family want me on this trip, and I will enjoy the really important things. </div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i><br /></i></div>Ruth Chapmanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16822876061735458576noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2437387665664062965.post-11311207973482335232011-09-28T03:18:00.000-07:002011-09-28T06:13:42.474-07:00Jill.......and others.<div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">I have a friend called Jill. She lives in Sydney and last week she came to stay for a few days. Jill has been a part of my life for about 10 years, and we have a friendship that is stronger now than at any time during the past decade. As a couple Wayman and I enjoyed being part of a friendship group that included Jill and her husband. At that time we all attended the same church. Before we moved to Sydney I had only lived in Adelaide, and these people helped me to feel at home in a much bigger, faster paced city.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">I have a photo of us all, minus one couple.</div><div style="text-align: center;"> <i>[with three younger couples, as you will be able to see!] </i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i><br /></i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; font-style: normal; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0yHBNU6Lz39q2JIDMJC79-jk28YP3xSVgmkee-gtPPTt5GQTJOJ7QXtmfsaPgS7yNFl5UYyehyphenhyphenLWOf47fICEpYwttPWQOCg6HEGZkKJ4KyO8xMEl3QISmrRZTgAdUnb5d31NlNNHgtGX6/s400/Teal+flat+evaluation+1.jpeg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5657355638750662882" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 293px; " /></span></i></div><div>Now dear friends, you are probably thinking, who on earth would wear an all green outfit?</div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">That's me! </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">And in case you have missed it, I had matching green shoes!</div><div style="text-align: center;">Quite a feat! I was very proud of them! </div><div style="text-align: center;"><i><br /></i></div><div style="text-align: center;">Let me introduce these lovely ladies:</div><div style="text-align: center;">From the left:</div><div style="text-align: center;">Ruth J is in the pink blouse: she has a wicked sense of humour, she always enjoyed Wayman's schoolboy pranks. I can still hear her chuckling at his antics.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">Gwen is next in the white trousers: This lady is the hostess with the mostess! An invitation to dinner in her home is a coveted thing.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">Nitia is standing between Gwen and her <i>[Nitias]</i> daughter-in-law. She took me under her wing and helped me cope with Sydney life, teaching me that many women had moved like me and that if they could do it, so could I!</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">On the other side of the young couple, is Jill hiding behind her husband, more about her later.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">Next is Alison, with the red top, standing between her husband and Wayman. Alison is one of the nicest people I know. She is generous, and kind with a beguiling nature that draws you to her.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">Then there is me in the green suit..........what was I thinking?</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">My friend Berry and her husband didn't come on this weekend so I haven't got a photo of her. She and I were in a book club together and we enjoyed many deep conversations, not always about our books. I miss Berry.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">Back to Jill.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">The fact that she is hiding behind her man is very interesting. Jill is tall, elegant and confident. </div><div style="text-align: left;">I have come to appreciate her immensely. She is a dream to shop with, everything she puts on looks stunning. I just stand back and watch as the assistants bring in items for her try. </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">Last week we tried on the same shirt.</div><div style="text-align: center;">I couldn't stop laughing, we looked like Danny Devito and Arnie Swarchenegger in twins!</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">But she is also very caring. Recently she sent me a package with small individually wrapped gifts for me to open on days when I was feeling a bit down.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">Here is an example:</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjySV_nh_aqURZCx8R-UgD_FiAuJflzLtWjXwgFBFgHU3jnHlhSZvGv8npIZ_x7n-sNIDfafbGG6m1eAv40WCKQrUbW8ac53mtvlSXkw4m5xt28C1kN9j0vtVt4hV0YXB-VhP_Jf836qbq4/s400/jills+gift.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5657376239249165090" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px; " /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#0000ee;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;">Each one had a verse from the Bible and some special treats to brighten my day.</div><div style="text-align: center;">While I now live in a different place, and my life has changed enormously, I am grateful that God has given me Jill, and special memories of this group of women that have enriched my life.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">So thanks Jill, for being my sister in Christ.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNgZbmSFNOYUFhFBiKeAxHq0YTbuLwhopBELCkU8dGh7k_FdPxgoen-bkrsm8cNUXz3OfYSjWovNU_RYu12ZF64O6ldCx_nzq9dGNRgohTa5bBPy_O6TQOiJxfqoKrLnJoFreo5ZH70EPa/s400/Jill+and+Ruth.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5657380586770579554" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 250px; " /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; ">Thanks also to the "coffee group" and keep on befriending others as you did me.</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div>Ruth Chapmanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16822876061735458576noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2437387665664062965.post-91646669249794855722011-09-17T15:46:00.000-07:002011-09-19T02:23:07.505-07:00The adventures of George<div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7wqrmV_xNDDg-5OknNy3-vHzM75bnaIirPzjy7o-456B59SqqtCCzhkm4kArrXTSiHUn-Pvti7q691G8o-CHXdbo4JGuBgjpRdZieRfMjwWttKuzrzHObHLZyzcj7b7LeoDF2NEHQ7_cu/s1600/George+1.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"></a><div style="text-align: center;">My grandchildren have favourite toys, as do children all over the world. </div><div><br /><div style="text-align: center;">C has Big Ted.</div></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">As his name implies, he is big, well bigger then your average teddy bear. </div><div style="text-align: center;">Big Ted came to America with the family when we visited for Christmas 2008.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">He added quite a bit to our carry-on luggage, but he was invaluable in helping a little boy to settle in numerous different beds and to sleep on many flights on that trip.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">Miss P has Oscar. </div><div style="text-align: center;">I know that Grannies aren't supposed to have favourites, but Oscar is mine. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>[I guess it doesn't really matter as it is only a toy!]</i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i><br /></i></div><div style="text-align: center;">Oscar is also quite large, and has a wonderful shape. He has a longish neck, just right for a little girl to put in the crook of her arm to carry him, and a tear shaped body.</div><div style="text-align: center;">His head wobbles around and his body jiggles as she runs. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">Then there is George. </div><div style="text-align: center;">He belongs to Jont.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">George was given to Jont by Aunty Cass and while he is is much smaller than Big Ted and Oscar, he is just as precious. </div><div style="text-align: center;">He is a monkey, and is a bit like a stick, with long arms and legs and a thin, grey tail.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">George came to stay with Grannie when Jont had a sleepover this week. </div><div style="text-align: center;">George got to play in the garden with Jont and Miss P and Oscar, and George went missing.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">We searched everywhere for him. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>[well, we retraced our steps, and searched the house and as much of my large garden as possible........ there a lot of places a small brown stick like toy could be hiding at my place]</i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i><br /></i></div><div style="text-align: center;">Sadly Jont had to go home without George. </div><div style="text-align: center;">That night he requested Dogga as his bedtime story, the tale of a little boy who looses his stuffed toy called Dogga.</div><div style="text-align: center;">There were many tears.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>[As is fitting in a childrens book, there is redemption in the story, Dogga is returned.]</i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i><br /></i></div><div style="text-align: center;">Grannie searched the garden again the next morning without success, only to spy him sitting on a tree stump, as she drove down the driveway on her way out to run some errands. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">He had been carefully placed there by his owner, to free up his little hands to collect stones and weeds.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">Grannie put George in the car............</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmn0IPMdeffor0s6vlHjF27ckFuBhSjhGTbL-pK6KssmlqX8E-jidK5LFAZBWfh8oJLxpmCrrE4ub_r3OJxVXwLIc2tx0EEYKxTzjXpcAWOTMiPv2AjUqOqoeVgFYtjXsuZQSVXWLiBnvZ/s400/George+1.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5653469533242502866" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 261px; height: 400px; " /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">and drove him to Jonts house to be re-united with his owner. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>[Jont was out so I left George on the doorstep]</i> </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaRrAXBnA8M6t8l2Sw1YjdCwUkIpxCoabMId5LP7R8T-7IgJSujIVA_EaphHgTLRh64ZxwR84i-pcdFNKwfeORbCPb3N-TVIcG8u6NAyvJuZLQ8th4G9kyVDm_dKDlHrLaXeuLV5JcklNV/s400/George+2.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5653470779102753058" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 378px; height: 400px; " /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;">The reunion was fittingly excited and affectionate......</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhq1qQaYZweca5N4eEa1-RvlAtZwjkVn8p5jdiMP_-DR3-dRH90bEfJ768xZCVS4V9QdDi6P7xLUkoG7vppnFGL7jC-sQ1JXQHCBWlGtZpQ96CNrDIfYHCLcxkLnRiakguGHcauy9o0gU_i/s400/IMG_1215.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5653998414927586978" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px; " /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;">and Jont was keen to assure Grannie that he didn't mean to loose him....</div><div style="text-align: center;">and that he will take good care of him....</div><div style="text-align: center;">and can he come and stay again????</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>[if you know Jont you will understand that he has a lot to say]</i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i><br /></i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i> </i></div><div style="text-align: center;">The End.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div>Ruth Chapmanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16822876061735458576noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2437387665664062965.post-51316893950600220642011-09-09T20:02:00.000-07:002011-09-09T16:17:35.073-07:0010 things I miss about East NashvilleIt is good to be home at Elmbrook. Spring is just beginning and I have spent quite a bit of time in the garden trying to get my mind around all the things that need to be done. <div><br /></div><div>Being on my own I spend a lot of time with my thoughts. </div><div>Naturally I am thinking about Cassie and Nathan in Nashville, so I have put together a list of things that I miss about East Nashville:</div><div><br /></div><div>1<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> <span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span></span>French toast on Saturday mornings made by Nathan with bread from Marche.</div><div><br /></div><div>2<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>Sitting on the back porch reading, or doing cross words, or cross stitch. </div><div><br /></div><div>3 <span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>Seeing the last few fire-flies of the summer.</div><div><br /></div><div>4<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> <span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span></span>Watching Nathan chase the neighbours cats out of the yard.</div><div><br /></div><div>5<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>City church on a Sunday evening.</div><div><br /></div><div>6 <span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>Watching Downton Abbey with Katherine.</div><div><br /></div><div>7<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span> <span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>New friends Regina and Chrissy, and a "semi" old friend Linda.</div><div><br /></div><div>8<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> <span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span></span>Hearing Cassie laugh with her friend Keely.</div><div><br /></div><div>9 <span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> <span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span></span>Listening to Nathan read to Cassie at breakfast time from a devotional book called</div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span> <span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>Be still, my soul.</div><div><br /></div><div>10<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>Walking to Ugly mugs, for great coffee.</div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">It is not a very profound list, is it?</div><div style="text-align: center;">But when you are recovering from such a great loss, I guess little things become important.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div>Ruth Chapmanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16822876061735458576noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2437387665664062965.post-28009215183500555872011-09-01T12:19:00.000-07:002011-09-01T15:45:07.451-07:00Memorial for Jack and Lucy<div style="text-align: center;">Cassie and Nathan called their babies Jack and Lucy
<br />
<br />The night before I left Nashville they held a memorial service for them.</div><div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><div style="text-align: center;">Their pastor had encouraged them to do this as part of the healing process. Friends Wes and Linda Yoder have a family chapel on their property and they graciously allowed us to use it. </div></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
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<br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNk1vAD358_vcqoSveRqRaEws3GVZMi1RJSCBA59Jvx4tTiVjMPzRVj1V0-0LyVCRLbuJMwFOY6jcCQd5-CTVT95uLXvOQEEAhTpNwD4YjJyYNWSoRT7FK98_xM50EBidRInyych6CtuT_/s1600/Chapel+4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNk1vAD358_vcqoSveRqRaEws3GVZMi1RJSCBA59Jvx4tTiVjMPzRVj1V0-0LyVCRLbuJMwFOY6jcCQd5-CTVT95uLXvOQEEAhTpNwD4YjJyYNWSoRT7FK98_xM50EBidRInyych6CtuT_/s320/Chapel+4.jpg" width="239" /></a></div>
<br /><div style="text-align: center;">It was the perfect size for the twenty or so people they invited to share in this most intimate of times.</div>
<br />
<br /><div style="text-align: center;">Belinda and Steph had arranged for flowers to be in the chapel from their families.</div><div><div style="text-align: center;">
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<br /></div><div><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibaFWY5UTb6rrYuyZn3Fgn_lwckJVvm16vVBtxWNCiaVgkb0xTMbWo6nhqFOuImm6AIVCC4NTMllJymUVDtBISJEwjyNUqg_5r9kO8_n47D9kI5lYzBqLegqJ2fBk7fDEomxWdk4uKysc_/s1600/chapel+5.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibaFWY5UTb6rrYuyZn3Fgn_lwckJVvm16vVBtxWNCiaVgkb0xTMbWo6nhqFOuImm6AIVCC4NTMllJymUVDtBISJEwjyNUqg_5r9kO8_n47D9kI5lYzBqLegqJ2fBk7fDEomxWdk4uKysc_/s320/chapel+5.jpg" style="cursor: move;" width="239" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">Aaron read Psalm 34, Nathan spoke of their heartache and hope, Craig encouraged us to mourn well and to look to Jesus, Chrissy read a prayer written by Katherine and we sang Abide with me.</div>
<br />
<br /><div style="text-align: center;">Wes closed our time in prayer his voice resonating through the little building he is constructing for his family to honour God.</div><div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"> And we shed our tears.</div><div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">The Yoders hosted us all for supper afterward in their home, and the time was well spent as good friends came together continuing to live while acknowledging the presence of death.
<br />
<br />
<br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">In the chapel I sat with a vacant chair beside me. I have spent times this last month questioning God and His purposes. Yet the faith he has given me has sustained me through these most difficult of times.</div><div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKTUYiH7StRCHYRDpuWKC6YBNNYHPjOXiROdq_JauCTsqoZqT1c1NaofaP7IymalRiMy32GqecgvdztbYPtLbvKTdhtUjpnekv0a60YrEyEjO3T9JW6XqhfuSs0dryvfg9FB0LmIQ8S19G/s1600/Chapel+3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKTUYiH7StRCHYRDpuWKC6YBNNYHPjOXiROdq_JauCTsqoZqT1c1NaofaP7IymalRiMy32GqecgvdztbYPtLbvKTdhtUjpnekv0a60YrEyEjO3T9JW6XqhfuSs0dryvfg9FB0LmIQ8S19G/s320/Chapel+3.jpg" style="cursor: move;" width="239" /></a></div>
<br /><div style="text-align: center;">And that covenant faith has me confident that Wayman and his grandchildren are in glory together worshipping around the throne.</div>
<br /></div></div>Ruth Chapmanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16822876061735458576noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2437387665664062965.post-8215223208991870672011-08-23T08:32:00.000-07:002011-08-23T08:57:01.009-07:00Walking in NashvilleMost of you who knew Wayman well, would remember that he was a keen exerciser. <div>As a young man sport was a big part of his life, and when he stopped playing football, he took up jogging to stay fit.
<br /><div style="text-align: center;">I was never a jogger.</div></div><div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">I flirted with a gym membership when my children were young, and surprised myself with how much I enjoyed it. I felt huge delight when I perfected the "grape vine" in the aerobics class, and managed to not bump into everyone else!</div><div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">As Wayman got older his exercise program changed, and he started to walk in the mornings. </div><div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">He loved it when I would join him. </div><div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">It never came naturally to me. He would be out of bed and ready to go while I was still trying to put my feet on the floor!</div><div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Whenever we visited Nashville the walking regime was continued. I look back now and realise what an unhappy partner I must have been for him!</div><div style="text-align: left;">He would encourage me with his enthusiasm, coaxing me on to do just 5 more minutes, or one more street. I was a most ungracious wife, never enjoying the time, always finding it difficult and demanding. </div><div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">Now I am in Nashville in my own, and I am walking every morning.</div><div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Admittedly, I don't go as far, or as fast as Wayman did, but I am taking responsibility for myself, and pounding the pavement to Krogers and back.</div><div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">The irony is not lost on me. How I wish that I had been a more willing participant when I had the opportunity to walk with Wayman.</div><div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">But I am grateful for the way he influenced me and gave me the desire to keep myself at least a little bit in shape.</div><div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>Ruth Chapmanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16822876061735458576noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2437387665664062965.post-90418923705655578952011-08-19T10:24:00.000-07:002011-08-19T12:00:10.478-07:00Just being here<div style="text-align: center;">I am finding that my role at the moment, is to just be here. </div><div style="text-align: center;">I can't walk the road that Cassie and Nathan have been given, I have my own.</div><div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">But I can be here for them, sitting on the porch, and trusting that the opportunities of conversation that I have will be at least helpful, and in tune with where they are.</div><div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">Can I encourage you to go to their blogs using my side bar, they have both shared their journey so eloquently.</div><div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"> It is their story to tell. </div><div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">As for me, God has graciously given me time with women here who have loved me and allowed me to talk about my losses, and cared as only children of God can.</div><div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">I am missing my family in Adelaide terribly, and am so sorry I missed Charlies flag waving expertise at the school concert!</div><div style="text-align: center;">I understand that he missed the instruction about when to start the all important flag waving, and while every other child held off until the climax of the song, Charlie, standing in the middle of the front row, waved his for the entire song!!!!</div><div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">Grannie is with him in spirit, here in Nashville.</div><div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div><div>
<br /></div>Ruth Chapmanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16822876061735458576noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2437387665664062965.post-44758512690469358432011-08-15T08:10:00.000-07:002011-08-15T13:38:21.055-07:00No limitYears ago, <i>[it seems like another life time ago] </i>I was part of a womens' choir.<div>I have a strong musical heritage, but no training, and only the experience of singing in the pews on Sundays. But I joined with great enthusiasm, as did my friends and both my sisters.</div><div>
<br /></div><div>To learn my part, our choir mistress would record my part on a tape, and I would learn it on my own so I would be able to hold my part when surrounded by others singing different notes than mine.</div><div>I would put that little tape in my cassette player in my car <i>[remember them?] </i>and play it over and over again as I drove to and from work. I was a working wife and mother then. I would learn the notes and words so well that I was confident to attend rehearsals, and hopefully not be a distraction for the other more proficient singers.</div><div>
<br /></div><div>Yesterday a friend <i>[from a different era of my life] </i>sent me<i> </i>the words of a song we had learnt in that choir. </div><div>As I read those words, on the screen of a lap-top now, the melody began in my head.</div><div>
<br /></div><div>I loved this song, and the truth of the words were always so comforting. The melody was very beautiful, and fitted so well with the sentiment of the song.</div><div>
<br /></div><div>But as I found myself singing it to myself this morning, I realised that I now understood the words. They are mine to own now. </div><div>
<br /></div><div>The truth of the lyrics hasn't changed, truth never does, but 20 or so years on I am having life experiences that put me right in the middle of these words.</div><div>
<br /></div><div>It is written in rather old fashioned language, but I will leave it alone, because it flows better this way.</div><div>
<br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><b><i>He giveth more grace when our burdens grow greater,</i></b></div><div style="text-align: center;"><b><i>He sendth more strength when our labours increase!</i></b></div><div style="text-align: center;"><b><i>To added afflictions He addeth His mercy, </i></b></div><div style="text-align: center;"><b><i>To multiplied trials He multiplies peace.</i></b></div><div style="text-align: center;"><b><i>
<br /></i></b></div><div style="text-align: center;"><b><i>His love has no limit, His grace has no measure,</i></b></div><div style="text-align: center;"><b><i>His power no boundary known unto men,</i></b></div><div style="text-align: center;"><b><i>For out of His infinite riches in Jesus, </i></b></div><div style="text-align: center;"><b><i>He giveth and giveth and giveth again.</i></b></div><div style="text-align: center;"><b><i>
<br /></i></b></div><div style="text-align: center;"><b><i>When we have exhausted our store of endurance,</i></b></div><div style="text-align: center;"><b><i>When our strength has failed ere the day is half done, </i></b></div><div style="text-align: center;"><b><i>When we reach the end of our hoarded resources,</i></b></div><div style="text-align: center;"><b><i>Our Fathers' full giving is only begun</i></b></div><div style="text-align: center;"><b><i>
<br /></i></b></div><div style="text-align: center;"><b><i>His love has no limit, His grace has no measure,</i></b></div><div style="text-align: center;"><b><i>His power has no boundary known unto men. </i></b></div><div style="text-align: center;"><b><i>For out of His infinite riches in Jesus,</i></b></div><div style="text-align: center;"><b><i>He giveth and giveth and giveth again.</i></b></div><div style="text-align: center;"><b><i>
<br /></i></b></div><div style="text-align: center;"><b><i>
<br /></i></b></div><div style="text-align: center;">Thank you dear friend for sending me this, and thank you Ano Klesis for the beautiful sound </div><div style="text-align: center;">you are making in my head this morning.</div><div>
<br /></div>Ruth Chapmanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16822876061735458576noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2437387665664062965.post-37417322355170859312011-08-10T19:45:00.000-07:002011-08-12T13:08:47.752-07:00Two little souls in heaven<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">I didn't know it was possible to be this heart broken.</div><div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">Cassie and Nathan have lost their two little babies.</div><div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">It feels as if I have been given a new blanket of grief to add to the already heavy layer I am covered with.</div><div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">I am watching these dear young people coping with a loss that only those who have lost children can understand.</div><div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">I feel so helpless.</div><div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">Please pray that Jesus will be all I need.</div><div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>Ruth Chapmanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16822876061735458576noreply@blogger.com2