Holiday in the Dales 5

Bolton Abbey

Holiday in the Dales 4

Holiday in the Dales 3

Holiday in the Dales 2

Holiday in the Dales 1

November Passion

I was excited to see that my mum's been writing more nature-inspired poetry, this time a November Passion. A vivid and affecting picture of Christ's death...all the more poignant because we know that spring will come!

Millers go camping

Millers go to Beachy Head

Millers on the South Bank

A bit of nostalgia

I re-discovered a page of 'Brockwell D' photos linked from Gav's website.

I believe it's actually me who took these - in the early days of my digital camera... o the excitement :-)

I miss that place sometimes! I spotted a few things that made me laugh to remember..
- rabbit fur armrest
- Pete's cake confusion
- cream and tickle fight
- the ever-present plastic goal
- Gav eating mud
- revision by the lake
- the deer on the wall (there were also badgers by the TV and a fox behind the fridge)
- Tom kidnapping Gav

Unfortunately there's no evidence of the leopard-skin fleece throw... which has strangely disappeared since! (Who do my present housemates have to thank for that?!)

Christmas Eve Adventures

This should have been posted before the previous entry, but never mind!

Christmas Eve was a day out in London for the Millers. Mum had booked us a tour of the Thames Tunnel by tube which made for an unusual start to Christmas Eve!

The Curator of the Brunel Museum took our tour...a small man with a voice loud enough to speak over a tube train, but with a irritatingly small amount of stock phrases, uttered with huge enthusiasm but nevertheless starting to grate after the 20th or 30th time: "Welcome To The The 8th Wonder of the World!" "This is the Oldest Tunnel of the Oldest Stretch of Line in the Oldest Underground Railway System in the World!" "It's the First Tunnel Under a River Anywhere in the World!" etc etc.

The story of the Thames Tunnel is actually an amazing story, full of engineering triumphs and disasters, 19th Century politics and public-relations genius, such as the banquet in the half-finished tunnel. It is Isambard Kingdom Brunel's first public engineering project and paved the way for the London Underground. The tunnel has had a colourful history - including some time as "The First Underground Shopping Arcade!" but it's now part of the East London Line - thus the 'tour by tube'.

From our underground adventures we continued South, getting as far as Decathlon - the sports superstore at Surrey Quays. It wouldn't be Christmas Eve without some last minute shopping! As we left, the Sun was setting dramatically above the high rises...




Early evening found us on the South Bank and admiring the London Eye, as ever! The Golden Jubilee Bridges at the Hungerford are also a favourite.


We crossed the River and made our way up to Trafalgar Square for the Christmas Carol Service at St Martin-in-the-Fields. It had a slightly surreal quality to it, being recorded by BBC Radio for their Christmas morning service on Radio 4, but nevertheless some great carols and an excellent excuse for being out and about in a dark and festive London!

Barbecued Turkey a Success!

Yesterday certainly had its surreal moments. Pass-the-parcel at church, a bear to dinner, dad with a blow torch and the aforementioned turkey..

Christmas morning started off in much the same way as ever, opening my stocking. Santa had brought me a slinky, some sour worms and a pair of polka-dotted girls' boxers...it made an interesting start to the day!

Some theology books and new pjamas later and we were off to church. It couldn't be worse than last year, we reassured ourselves. In fact, it was very much better. It was about as far away from a traditional Christmas service as you could imagine and probably the most informal church service I have ever been a part of (but then that's what C-brook does best..)

We walked into a room lively with people greeting each other and children everywhere. 'Celebrate good times, come on!' was playing on speakers and it seemed appropriate for the mood of the morning! What followed was a cheerful and eclectic mix of celebration and earnest message. We were treated to a dance, an 8-instrument rendition of Away in a Manger from the kids, the shortest nativity ever (on PP- nicely done!), a game of pass-the-parcel-with-a-message, a drama/dialogue on the meaning of Christmas, and a prayer for us to 'take this gift home'. All led by a family of 6 - the four girls doing an impressive job taking us through the craziness of the morning.


Christmas Lunch was a little more complicated than usual, due to a broken oven. Veg was boiled and microwaved, but the turkey found a new home in the barbecue!


Lunch was attended by a most distinguished visitor, Grandpa Bear. He came dressed for the occasion and in good Christmas cheer.

Leo is regaled with stories of past glories...

"What do you call a polar bear wearing ear muffs..?"


Dad took the opportunity to try out his new present - the kitchen blow torch! We stood back, but the turkey wasn't so lucky...

Home thoughts

There's something about coming home to Ilford that makes my 'normal' Durham life just feel like a dream, though of course a good one! I feel detached from the events of only a few days ago, as if they happened to someone else. There's something about fitting into old patterns, and being around people who've known you a long time, which tends to bring out the best and the worst. I'm definitely in post-term collapse as well, which does reduce me to getting through the here and now, and in lowest gear..

What's been interesting this time home has been re-discovering yet again that life here is not where I left it. It's always slightly odd to return home and find that things have changed here as much as things have changed for me in Durham - I expect things to still be the same! At a party here this evening the people I knew were a minority. 3 or 4 people had arrived before someone whose name I knew arrived at the door! I'm glad that my family are busy in their lives and meeting new people, but it's a 'double-take' experience for me each time.

Since I was last home there have been big changes in the garden especially. Dad has built his new shed and it's all shiny new wood planking still. It looks amazing - I'll put up some pictures soon! And it appears massive, although it's a bit of an illusion because it's very wide but not very deep. All in all, I'm impressed and proud to look at it and say 'my dad made this!'

We had the opening ceremony this evening. Everyone came outside and an old friend of dad's cut the ribbon and let everyone in for a 'tour'! The Miller Bear was keeping guard outside, dressed in a santa costume.. looking as marvellous as ever.

Autumn glory

I loved this poem by BJ, a celebration of God's creative awesomeness on show in the Autumn colours and weather.


"One generation will commend your works to another;
they will tell of your mighty acts.
They will speak of the glorious splendor of your majesty,
and I will meditate on your wonderful works.
They will tell of the power of your awesome works,
and I will proclaim your great deeds."
Psalm 145:4-6

Barbershop boys

Can you guess which one of these is related to me!

Making house

I have been pondering recently the mystery of a 'good house' (and i'm not talking about the physical building). What are the things which make a house somewhere you'd want to live?
Something that's really important to me is hospitality, although I'm not always as good as I'd like to be! What makes a house hospitable? What makes it a warm place to be and somewhere you feel comfortable?

Here are some ideas to be starting off with..

Values shared by housemates (e.g. hospitality)

Full part played by every housemate (rights and responsibilities)

Shared ownership (seems important but hard to define exactly what I mean.. something like 'we're in it together')

Meals together

Joint 'expenses' (food etc)

Welcoming guests - whoever has invited them

Decisions discussed together and nothing 'assumed' (tricky!)

I like to have housemates who look out for me and aren't afraid to challenge me when necessary

Any others?

Strange days

What a strange couple of days for London.

I was surprised yesterday by an unexpected strength of feeling about the Olympics announcement, a curious patriotic pride and triumph. I didn't expect us to win but when the announcement came I felt as if I was celebrating an almost personal victory, albeit a quietly-stated one.

Then today, it was with a calm shock that I listened to my year 8's talking about bombs in London. Surely not. But they wouldn't think to make up something like that, would they? I checked the news on my PC and was almost surprised to find out that it was true. I refused to panic or get excited and insisted that we continue with the lesson, despite cries to turn on the television in my lab. In continuing with normal life, I felt as if I was resisting, fighting back somehow. As I checked the BBC news I remember thinking, with a disconnected clarity, that the number of casualties seemed very low and surely there were a lot of gaps in the picture. I was on a split lunch lesson and when the bell came I rang home. Mum confirmed that everyone was fine and Bren had cycled to work in Hackney this morning.

She spoke, in a way I've heard repeated a few times this afternoon, (for example, on this digest of London blogs on the TimesOnline website) of the way in which Londoners would not be cowed by today's events and would go on regardless. As I spoke to her, I heard an echo of Blitz resilience come down from my Grandma, who speaks proudly yet frankly of the way in which Londoners went on with their lives as bombs dropped around them.

A blogger is quoted on the Times page saying:
"There is no other nation on earth that can absorb crisis with such calmness and professionalism as Britain..The terrorists’ anger towards us pales into insignificance with our determination to beat them. And we will."
Tony Blair echoed this determination in his speech which I saw repeated several times in the afternoon.

I feel so disconnected from events in London, and yet in me there's a strong pang of solidarity with my home city. I feel more like a Londoner than ever.
I'm finding it hard to picture familar places, like Liverpool Street station, closed and somehow defiled. The static familar images of my home seem violated, although I'm acknowledging in myself a lean towards the melodramatic here. Perhaps I'm overcompensating, because in some ways I'm struggling to feel anything, a sense of shock combined with distance has combined to give a slightly numb edge to my reflections.

In some ways, I'm trying not to imagine it.. I've spent too many hours in those packed underground carriages to want to picture being trapped down there in such confusion. On the other hand, stories of people making their way home across London this evening, an exodus by foot and boat, have the appeal of an adventure, of the making-do camaraderie that descends in such times. All in all, mixed feelings, or lack of. I feel a simultaneous need to talk about it yet not to brood on it, and there's lots to say, yet nothing really to add.

Summer Psalm

I enjoyed this psalm by BJ!

"..Londoners and strangers
Let everything out on this sunny day
Praise him!"

Ribbet ribbet!

Do you like frogs...? They lead a rather chilled out lifestyle!

The new bear at 95