My sister tells me I shouldn't get too serious - I guess it's bad for my health and everyone's around me. And so I thought I'd write about a visit to the Midgleys, which is (mostly) anything but serious - boys climbing all over me and calling me names; gentle wrestling, wild wrestling; oohing and aahing over the latest Lego creation; tears (mostly mine); being begged to watch funny "You Tube" videos; Kim, Sue and I taking out any frustrations we may have built up in the day by blowing each other away in Call of Duty (it is worrying that all the boys know the maps and weapons better than we do, especially because they never play the confounded game! But somehow our friendship has managed to prevail despite the regular violence against each other!) ...
Today I heard that the lads have now cast me in the role of Pooh Bear (each family member has been given a character, and as honorary uncle they couldn't leave me out). I'm assured it has nothing to do with "the bear of little brain" part, but rather because of my "ever-so-slightly round tummy". Mmmmph! While wrestling with numbers 3 and 4 the other day number 4 did call my stomach revolting, so I guess Pooh makes sense. Which all reminded me of my first stint on stage in a PACT Playwork production of Winnie the Pooh, when I was six. My mother was Rabbit, Laurika Rauch (of Kinders van die Wind fame) played Kanga and I was little Roo who dizzily careered around the stage shouting, "look at me jump, look at me jump," or "look at me swim, look at me swim." I still have nightmares about forgetting my lines and of my grandmother wildly waving and screaching, "yoo hoo, Robbie," from the audience.
Midgley son number 1, 11-year-old Andy, has been churning out some rather remarkable poetry the last few days - about random things like angles ("angry anglers' angles could really twist you up"), eels ("eels, eels, water mobiles, where, oh where are they from"), and manta ray pets called Nimbus ... Sounds like fun, homeschooling ... I'm attaching his poem about Jesus at the bottom of this blog.
So, enjoy the pics of these mad, merry, mercurial Midgley minors. (As ever, click on the pics for larger versions).
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| Number 1 |
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| Number 2 |
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| Number 3 |
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| Number 4 |
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| Number 5 |
JESUS
Jesus, known as son of David,
Was the Son of God.
Jesus had no sin in Him,
But His life was hard.
As all the world was registered,
The Son of God was born,
Born in a stable dry,
amongst the animal's corn.
And wise men came to visit Him,
And shepherds the news heard
And gifts were given unto Him,
While the angels stirred.
And Jesus wasn't evil
And Jesus wasn't vile,
And Jesus could not stand with Satan,
Not even for a while.
The people call Him meek
The people call Him mild
Though Jesus was more likely
To be a Godly wild.
And as His life went by,
He did a lot of teaching
Healed many people,
He even did some preaching.
As His time of death drew near
Jesus was betrayed -
Betrayed by His own disciple
Who a "fortune" made.
And on the cross at Calvary
as Jesus was crucified,
Many people mocked Him
Though many people cried.
And Jesus, known as son of David
Is known as the risen Son
And Jesus is in Heaven
For God's great will was done.
A few days ago I took the plunge, launched myself into the dark unknown, the abyss, an uncertain update-less life, disconnected from the matrix that is Facebook. The morning after the big switch-off I feared the terrible withdrawal symptoms that were sure to follow - horrid headaches, tremors, insatiable cravings, loss of appetite ... and yet, amazingly, none of them materialised. (Well, apart from the loss of appetite, but that was from the Malagasy chicken that seriously disagreed with me).
