Leaving England..

Oxford

The fields of the Cotswold Countryside

It has been 7 months since we moved from England back to Colorado. I have been surprised how much of a mourning process it has been for me to adjust.  Not only did I love the UK but I loved the life we had there. My job, the teens and coworkers I was surrounded by daily, the beautiful Harry Potter-like school we lived at, the community, the diversity of Oxford and London, the trains, the cheap flights to other countries at every school break, the Indian and Middle Eastern food, the drone of pigeons and birdsong, the sheep, the footpaths, the sound of horse hooves clopping down the lane, verdant green landscape, the first buds of Spring following the rain. Exeat weekends in Oxford with the family, long walks around University park, exploring narrow back alleys of the city empty of tourists after sunset, cobblestone streets and stone walls. Pubs from the 1300s, spires and churches,  Evensong at Christchurch and concerts at the Bodlein, thousands of bikes. Yellow fields in May, horses galloping at Daylesford, weekly runs with my cross-country class, exploring villages with names like Lower Slaughter and Stow in the Wold. Christmas markets, poppers, words like brilliant, keen and cheeky. The clerks asking "Are you alright?" as you queue at the till to take your groceries from the trolley and strange holidays such as Guy Fawkes and Boxing day. Zipping into London to catch a show, going days without using my car, little cafes with European treats, barbershops and butchers on the High street, buskers entertaining, historical buildings on every corner, open stalls overflowing with flowers and goods. 

London with my dear friend

Blackberry bushes and apple orchards out the backdoor, making jam and cobbler from my pickings, canals with longboats, walking the grounds of Blenheim palace, sharing a "cuppa" with Charlbury neighbors, summer festivals, hedgerows, the ziplines in every park, Chipping Norton at sunset, healthy options at Petrol stations, zebra crossings, politically incorrect signs like "Elderly person crossing".. the list goes on and on. 

It is not that I don't love America. I do, I am very patriotic and still cry at those Youtube videos showing soldiers coming home and when songs like "God Bless the USA" play on the radio. It was just a bit of culture shock returning to life in the fast lane. It is unavoidable here. I tried walking to the store the first week we moved back. After walking 3 miles up a hill with 4 bags of groceries, I quickly realized that everything here is just farther away. Until your teen drives here they are completely dependent on you for every transportation need. No walking to the bus stop or hopping on the train.  The afterschool activities in England are rolled into the school day. No driving kids 30 minutes to Club soccer or to a class across town. My first trip back to Walmart this summer was complete sensory overload as well. I stood for a full 10 minutes in the cereal aisle scanning the options but there was not one box of Muesli to be found.  It is convenient though

Colorado, USA

to be able to get groceries, nails and a rubber spatula all in one place again! This leads me to my next thought: CONSUMERISM. Being back in the land of strip malls and Walmarts, I find myself spending a lot more money here. A quick trip for milk and I end up finding 20 other items I need as well as popping into Home Depot for some home item and bang.. $200 poorer. Don't even get me started on Costco! I am already completely addicted to this super warehouse again and keep our American mega fridge and pantry stocked with its wares. We actually had a Costco in England too but it was an hour away and we had no fridge or storage space to put any of it. I got used to living more simply and my stress level was lower because of it. 

Before you think I will become an Ex-Pat and permanently move back to the other side of the pond I have to list some of the things I love about the good ol USA: Colorado Springs specifically.  I love the big bright sky! Sunny days in January despite snow being on the ground. Neighbors who are like family. Healthy growing churches of believers who are working together to help their communities, public schools that are tops in the country, mountain vistas, big puffy white clouds, thunderstorms in the summer, 4th of July parades, the distant drone of Santa Fe railroad freight trains blowing their horn, access to National forest and public land nearby, super friendly sales clerks, screens in windows, garbage disposals, finished basements with pool tables or ping pong, lots of storage space,  automatic water dispensers on the front of fridges, new plumbing, wide open roads, deer feeding in my back yard, hiking 14,000 ft peaks, Friday night football games and basketball, camping in the middle of nowhere, Varsity sports, ski areas, jacuzzis and big man trucks like the Diesel GMC extended cab my husband drives. These are just a few things off the top of my head that make me glad to be back home. I am over the hump, I don't get sad every time I think about England anymore. I do think of it with fondness and a smile though. It was a special time in our lives that I will always cherish and I hope to visit regularly but we are back where we were born to be. 

God bless America and the Queen!

June 20, 1998

Marriage: What’s the Point?

We are surrounded by a culture that is moving away from commitment.

In the age of Tinder and Snapchat, relationships come quickly and easily but disappear just as fast.

Information, pictures and sometimes sex, are shared without even knowing a person’s

story. This cheap, fast, noncommittal dating seems safe to some: no need to be

vulnerable, no strings attached, no pain, no roots that will have to be cut when you move

on. But without roots all one has is shallow ground, a handful of superficial attachments

that disappear in an instant, leaving one feeling disconnected, used and lonely.

Marriage is one of God’s solutions to the problem of loneliness. After creating the first man,

Adam, God realized it was not good for man to be alone so he made him a helpmate, a

woman. Then the LORD God said, "It is not good for the man to be alone. I will make a

helper who is just right for him.” (Genesis 2:18) I know some of you girls are now

thinking, “great, the only reason for marriage is to serve and help a man”.. definitely not.

There are over 38 verses in the Bible about marriage and love. The main themes are that

a husband and wife should become one, UNIFIED, a united front to face life together.

Some people have hang-ups with the verses about a wife submitting to her husband and

a husband loving his wife as Christ loved the church (Ephesians 5:21-24) BUT as a

husband provides for his wife both physically and spiritually and cherishes her as 

a special gift that God provided for him, it will come naturally for her to want him to take

the lead in certain decisions. A good leader listens and accepts the input of their closest

council and together they rule.

My husband and I are about to celebrate our 20th wedding anniversary. 

Sometimes I reflect back on our dating days. It wasn’t one of those love at 1st sight stories. 

June 20, 2018

We met as part of a large group of friends and because we had mutual interests we started spending

a lot of time together. As our friendship grew, we got to know each other’s families, life

stories, goals, beliefs, disappointments, and senses of humor. Over time we realized

that we missed each other when we were apart and though we weren’t yet “defined” as a

couple, we had a piece of each other’s hearts. A foundation had been laid for the next

step. A healthy root system is vital for a tree to grow. I encourage each of you to lay roots

down with your friends. Dig deeper, ask those hard questions, be vulnerable with each

other. Somewhere out there is your perfect helper, a teammate for this game of life.

I will leave you with this quote to ponder from the book Corelli’s Mandolin:

“Love is a temporary madness. It erupts like an earthquake and then subsides. And

when it subsides you have to make a decision. You have to work out whether your roots

have become so entwined together that it is inconceivable that you should ever part.

Because this is what love is. Love is not breathlessness, it is not excitement, it is not the

promulgation of promises of eternal passion. That is just being "in love" which any of us

can convince ourselves we are. Love itself is what is left over when being in love has

burned away, and this is both an art and a fortunate accident. Your mother and I had it,

we had roots that grew towards each other underground, and when all the pretty

blossom had fallen from our branches we found that we were one tree and not two.”

Irish Mis-Adventure

The LONG road to Ballyvaughan

Yesterday I set out at noon with my two teens plus an extra pre-teen for what was to be an easy hop over to Ireland (a 35 min flight). The park and ride in Birmingham was sketchy and took so long to get to that we nearly missed our flight. After a run through the airport and teen daughter being detained by security for bringing perfume in her carry-on, we made it aboard. 

Since Ryanair likes to put you in the worst possible seats, I was placed in the middle of a "stag do" (Bachelor party)..a bunch of middle aged Irishmen returning from a weekend of barhopping. They kept insisting I try their beer and asking obnoxious questions. 

We finally made it to the rental car agency in Dublin and after a 30 min wait, I was informed I couldn't use my voucher because my husband's name was listed as the driver (he had to drop out of trip at last minute due to looming PhD deadlines) Spent another 20 min on phone with Hotwire who couldn't change the name or rebook the car. Europcar then kindly offered to rent me the same car I had reserved for 3x the price plus additional insurance (or be stuck with a 2000 deductible for a scratch). With no other options and a 2.5 hr drive to Galway looming, I bit the bullet. Loaded the kids, luggage and sat nav directions and headed off trying to remember how to use a left-handed stick shift while navigating heavy traffic and strange roundabouts. 

After 90 min we stopped to get groceries and find something to eat. We were in the middle of who knows where but there was a Lidl still open at 8:30 pm on a Sunday so that was miraculous. No Irish food though, we had to settle for a pizza that we ate by the side of a canal for ambiance. We drove through rolling hills for another 30 min before I asked teen daughter to scroll out on the Sat Nav to see how close we were to our destination. That is when we realized that there are apparently TWO Ballyvaughans and we sadly had been driving to the wrong one in the southeast corner of Ireland, not near Galway at all. Our new redirected Sat Nav directions required an additional 3 hrs of driving. Oh happy day (or night by this time)! With teen daughter keeping me awake with her Spotify playlist and the boys sleeping in the back, we covered what was probably amazing scenery and finally made it to our cottage at 1 am. After 4 hrs of sleep, I am awake with the birds and super bright early sun..hoping today will be better! 

A POEM FOR OUR LAST CHRISTMAS IN ENGLAND

The past 2.5 years in the land of the Queen 

have sped by in these hills covered in green.

John has been busy running study visits, ECGs and writing a thesis, 

while I raise the teens, run the boarding house and call upon Jesus.

Jenna is 16: loves soccer, Spotify, friends, painting, and boys

Mason is 13: loves rugby, reading, Youtube videos and is now too 

old for his toys

We have been blessed to see a lot of the world

from the fjords of Norway to the Tavernas of Crete, 

traveling has definitely been our favorite treat

By summer we’ll be back in the land of the free

returning to the purple mountains majesty 

while we’ll be sad to kiss England goodbye 

we won’t miss the rain and welcome the dry

For you our family and friends,

mothers and fathers, each girl and boy

this Christmas we pray, will be full of joy

Stars will proclaim, wise kings shall bow

the weary shall rest from the sweat of their brow

so celebrate all, this good season again

and declare peace on earth, goodwill to all men!

MERRY CHRISTMAS 2017!

Grandma

Grandma in her favorite spot on the porch- May 2017 (92.5 yrs old)

 I am so grateful to be 44 years old and still have one grandparent left.. the matriarch of my mom's family..the eldest of 12 siblings, mother of 6, grandmother of 17, great grandmother of 38, "Mom, Grandma, Grandma Hubbard, GG, Dottie, Dorothy Maxine.. she has many names. But to me she will always be my precious grandma, who has more energy and zip than any other.

Going to Grandma and Grandpa's house was part of growing up. Marsi and I would spend summers laying by the pool, swimming, dressing up in costumes in the old barn, exploring the attic and running around the yard (usually accompanied by at least 2-3 cousins). We looked forward to the Velveeta cheese slices and Bologna that were always faithfully kept in the left drawer of the fridge along with jello pudding cups and whipped cream from the can (which Grandpa would squirt straight into our mouths) Grandma to this day still has glass containers of various snacks displayed on her counter with little dixie cups so that visitors can sample the contents.

In college I lived with Grandma for three weeks while taking a summer course nearby.. we went out to lunch every day (Hungry Hunter or Carrows were her favorites) and enjoyed TV time in the evenings together leaning back in the reclining sofas and discussing the news of the day.  She always rose early.. I could hear her humming at 4:30 am as she cheerily went about her daily chores. By the time I woke up she was ready with a mocha and we would sit on the deck while she told me a play by play of her morning and all the things she had accomplished before 7 am.

In my adult years the sleep-overs with Grandma have continued whenever I am in town.  The most recent was this past Christmas of 2016. We have been living in England for two years and when Grandma was diagnosed with Congestive heart failure in the past year we knew we had to make a visit back to Encinitas to spend time with her. John and I stayed upstairs in the girls' room (she still calls it that from when the 4 girls shared that room growing up) Every morning I would go check on Grandma and she would pull the covers down for me to join her. We stared up at the cedar ceiling and talked about the shapes we saw in the wood, talked about her growing up years in Illinois and how hard it was, talked about her happy life with Grandpa and six kids in California, talked about all the family news.. talked and talked. I cherish those talks, just being next to her.  The hardest moment of my life so far was saying goodbye at the end of that visit. I knew her prognosis was grim. She didn't want surgery to repair her valve and the Dr's estimated three months. We had another 18 months in England. All day I steeled myself for the final hug, the final kiss. 
How do you say goodbye to someone for the final time while they are still there? Someone who is still laughing and vibrant, doesn't even look sick?  My beautiful grandma with her curly white hair and dancing brown eyes.. with the best laugh in the world that seems too big for her tiny 4'11 frame.  As we hugged, the dam broke. I wept..big shaking sobs... She wept.  We couldn't let go. We both knew we would no longer see each other here on this Earth. Finally we parted saying "I love you" again and again. I cried all the way to the car but hid my face so she wouldn't see from her perch on the deck where she always stands to wave goodbye. I peeked as we went around the corner and sure enough she was there waving still. I waved back, one last time. Trying to keep the visual in my mind forever of Grandma Hubbard, in her happy place, waving from the deck. The same deck she has sat on for over 60 years and watched her toddlers grow into grandparents on. 
"I love you Grandma, talk to you soon!"

And we have talked, at least once every few weeks. She has defied the odds and made it to August. 8 months instead of 3. The past month has been a steady decline though and each phone call gets a bit sadder.  We video messaged through mom's phone last week and at the end she said "That was fun but I want to see you in person". When I hung up the big sobs came again, the racking kind that take over your body. I would give anything to be there for this final walk. But by today she is no longer responding. I prayed for her over the phone and could hear her shallow raspy breaths. Mom says it is like labor. You labor your way into the world and labor your way out. With birth we have the joy of a new baby to erase the pain. With death we don't get to see the glorious rebirth that will occur but she believes in Jesus and places her trust in God and I know that she will have a beautiful new home there very soon, free from pain and suffering. 

Revelation 29:4 "He will wipe away every tear from their eyes, and there will be no more death or mourning or crying or pain, for the former things have passed away"

A sweet family friend just sent a verse to remind us of what Grandma might hear from God as she approaches the end of her time her on Earth. It is from the  Song of Songs 2: 10-12
" My Beloved spoke and said to me, Arise my darling, my beautiful one, come with me. See the winter is past, the rains are over and gone. Flowers appear on the earth, the season of singing has come"

She is ready, she is surrounded by her loved ones in person and in spirit, she has lived these 92.9 years very well, she is about to be delivered into her forever home. For that I smile.  Love you always Grandma!

My favorite picture of Gma peeking over the fence into her garden in her PJs (Dec 2016)

December 2016- motherly love

Jenna is a head taller

The boys love GG

4 Generations

I love this picture.. this is from the summer of 2015 before we moved to England. Grandma and I sat across from each other out on the porch and talked for an hour over our mochas

Coaching English Style: Netball 101

I got talked into coaching Netball.  "It is easy...similar to basketball", the PE teacher said.

 Except for you can't dribble, you can't make contact, you have to pass after a one foot landing, there is no backboard, you can only possess the ball for 3 seconds, you can't repossess the ball, you can't obstruct a player or stand within 3 feet of a player when they are shooting, you can't touch the outer lines, you have to stay in your designated area and there are 7 designated positions per team. So really nothing like Basketball except for a net hanging from a pole!

In order to referee and coach you have to know these rules really well. So the school sent me to an all day Netball for Beginners course.. since it is such a "simple" game they skipped going over all the basic rules and jumped right to drills. Our instructor was a former English Netball champion of some sort. She was massively tall and limped slightly from the multiple knee injuries that Netball had inflicted on her large frame. She had us running around the gym like crazy, practicing our landing footwork, passing in figure 8's, shooting goals, running lines.. I felt like I was back in highschool at summer volleyball trainings and had a wonderful time.  Until the next day..I woke up with sore shins and became aware of other muscles that I forgot I had.

The season is now almost over- three more weeks. I have to say I have been pleasantly surprised by my group of Jr girls- ages 11 and 12. We have won about 50% of our matches and no one has suffered any serious injuries. Practicing outside in January and February in freezing rain was a challenge but no one got pneumonia either! I am just starting to blow my whistle at the right times and make the calls correctly. Oh and by the way, the picture up top..this is from a recent interhouse match. That is Jenna in the wing attack position. And those girls in the foreground: personal foul by the goal defense on the goal attack for contact. Yellow ball free pass!!

UPSHIFT: My new life as a Boarding Houseparent

I have neglected this blog for a few months. Mostly because I am no longer downshifting like the title implies but UPSHIFTING as a houseparent to 26 girls aged 14-17. It has been a crazy, frenetic pace.. non stop planning, coordinating, counseling, coaching, laughing and sometimes crying. Many have asked, "what exactly do you do?".. my answer, "MOM duties x26" (Plus managing my own teen girl and almost teen boy and one neurotic dog). The day starts at 7 when the older girls wake up the younger ones. At 7:30 I turn off the intruder alarm so they can go to breakfast up at the dining hall and the day is off to a loud, rushed start as girls come in and out, make-up and hair is fixed, things are needed out of our "house study". We have roll call every morning at 8:25 in the house lounge then we all walk up the hill to chapel and sit together as a house. The girls have lessons all day but come in and out at breaks. A deputy Houseparent comes in the afternoon to do laundry, run the office and communications. We are a close team: houseparent, deputy HP, pastoral assistant and three teacher tutors who run evening prep 3 nights a week. Tuesdays are our house nights, after evening prep (homework) we all gather in the lounge and do house bonding activities.
Some of our favorites are fondue, quiz nights, indoor smores, decorating our house for Christmas,   and a recent house night ended with dancing the Macarena and singing at the top of our lungs. Curfew is 9:15 for the younger girls (freshman/sophomores) and 10:15 for the 6th form girls (Jr/seniors). They have varying bedtimes depending on year group starting at 10 pm. The biggest discipline challenge is monitoring use of devices after bedtime. No one is allowed on their phones after lights out so I have to sneak around and check. The girls are really good at picking up on the creaky floorboards and miraculously when I open the dorm rooms it is usually eerily quiet and dark (I am pretty sure they are hiding them under duvet covers) I have only confiscated a handful of devices thus far. Good thing the school shuts down Wi-Fi after 11:15 anyways.  The day before Christmas break the fire alarm went off at 7 am, right in the middle of shower time. The impromptu fire drill in frosty English winter and towels was quite a scene. Turned out that one of the seniors had sprayed deodorant in her room which triggered the alarm.  Despite the craziness and occasional drama of 26 girls in one house the overall spirit is joyful and there is a sense of sisterhood. We recently went on a house trip to see Mama Mia in London with the other senior girls house. In total there were 70 of us, singing, dancing, laughing and smiling.. these are the moments that make the late night phone raids and early morning fire drills worth it. Below are a few glimpses of daily life..

This is Severn house where we live, work and play

 Scruffy is now "Deputy House Dog" and our mascot at interhouse competitions. Our house color is green so here he had to dress up appropriately.  He get lots of extra walks, treats and love.

Above we are practicing for the interhouse singing competition which was held in the chapel against all the other houses. The girls sang "Man in the Mirror" and had the best harmonies of the night

Birthdays are a big deal and almost weekly with 26 to celebrate.. some of the girls want homemade cake so we have an informal cooking club where some of the girls help bake in my kitchen. Donuts are also popular!

We have an apple orchard so it is great for providing apples for house night treats such as Apple crumble, Apple pies and Apple butter.. here I am knocking some down

Getting to be goofy is a perk of the job, here we are preparing for In-house night which is every Tuesday 

The girls making "Baubles" for our house Christmas tree

Our recent trip to London.. we charted a bus since there were 70 of us!

Mamma Mia- a great way to end 1st term, singing, laughing and dancing together!