Pigeon "rescue"

Folk I've met at church are really into The Cat Empire (a band from Melbourne - they had some Australian friends), and so I'm listening to the new album. It's good. Also, I'm not sure why my post on Portobello Road disappeared but I don't want to write it again so I'm sorry about that.

Well yesterday I went outside to water the garden, and saw a pigeon sitting in a pot plant. It was quite injured and could only walk. I called the RSPCA, they said take it to the local vet, so Little Miss and I herded him into a box and walked off down the road... The vet look one look and said "Oh geez." and then, "yep we're going to put him to sleep" (sensitively of course because of the four year old). I'm not sure how much she understood of what happened, but from the start I made it very clear that we would not keep it and we wouldn't see it again after we took it to the vet because they could take care of it. When she asked about it later that afternoon I said it had to go to sleep because it was in too much pain. I don't know how much we ought to talk about death. She knows that Aslan dies but comes back to life. She knows that flies die and yesterday morning when she asked what butterflies & bats turn into I said "nothing, they just die." I do fast forward the killing & battle scenes in Narnia though because there's knowledge and there's over exposure I guess.

She's a very bright young thing, my Little Miss

We could all use the fresh air

People have been asking about the church I visited last Sunday night, and since there's nothing else to write about really, I thought I'd better oblige and expand on "yes."

Finding it was easy enough, but even though it was only a 6 minute tube ride, altogether it took 50 minutes to get there what with walking to the station and from the station to the church. Half an hour to get home. The weather is splendid now though and the sun goes to bed so late (not dark at 10pm!! It's killing me, I wake up at 4am instead of 5am now and doze shallowly till I get up), so anyway it's really nice outside in the evening.

It had tapestries, yes, but it's a much newer building and so people aren't there for the big old organ (there was none, but a drum kit). I was welcomed really genuinely (it makes a WORLD of difference if someone greets you kindly and someone comes and sits with you and is friendly and helpful. Seriously). The teaching was good and there were lots of songs. I didn't know any of them but I recognised the authors - you know, the 1970s crowd like Keith Getty and then some Stuart Townend.
After the service the welcoming continued (another important thing); it was almost as if they weren't letting me out the door till I'd met half a dozen people and declined the invitation to the young-people's-kick-on... twice. I liked it. I'm going back.

OK... the last time I watched Narnia I teared up, it was the fourth time this week. This time though the voices are grinding on my nerves so before I let it affect what goes into this post (too late?) I'm going to finish by saying that today I was outside in the sun with a T-shirt and was sweaty! Second summer this year, bring it on!!!

Eventless fluff

The day I don't cry in the opening scenes of The Lion, The Witch & The Wardrobe will be the day my heart has died. Even when I have to fast forward the planes & air shelter bits because I'm watching it with a four year old - and even the second time we've started it today - I get teary. I've changed my mind about American teen sit coms; there is way too much screaming and canned laughter. The noise leaking from the next room is like bird poo falling into my sweet cup of Narnian tea.

What comes next is pages of all the things I am finding hard. But I'm not actually going to include it, I just want everybody to know that this isn't a fairy tale girl-finds-herself-on-an-adventure story. Well maybe it is but this is the bit where she sings in a forest about how she's lost and alone and wishing she...

Ok stop now. I'm fine, really. Just still adjusting. Did I already write that before? Sometimes I wonder what I'd be doing if I'd stayed in Australia (I'm trying hard not to call it 'home'). Uni, I guess. Feeling like a coward and being bored a lot... but being with my friends. Hey, friends. I miss you all. I haven't spoken (face to face) to anyone over 11 or much under 30 since the Thursday I left Armidale (that would be you, Izzy). And I haven't eaten beef! It's all pork here. There was some Vegemite left in the cupboard from the last Aussie nanny to live here, it has been my pride and joy. (That expression sort of fits.)

I am glad I've come though, and I'm sure it's happened at the right time - last year's me couldn't have done it. If I had stayed I still would have still been living life, but England was on my mind for so long I couldn't have just forgotten about it. So long, in fact, that I fail to recall why and how it came to be there in the first place.

Well she likes rewinding it and watching the first half an hour over again, so I'm watching the train bit for the third time today and not crying. Forgive me. It doesn't count. I'm now on reserve battery so I'll just publish.