Rain, rain go away.

 I thought it rained a lot in Devon - but here in Dorset, the effects of continuous rain soon become very apparent. Living in a valley means that the water table is not very far away - in fact in some houses, it is now only four inches below the floorboards! As fast as the water is being pumped out, it is flowing in from the surrounding fields - rain or nor rain. In one cottage, a trench has been dug through the sitting room, in another, the kitchen and sitting room are underwater. Two of our roads into the village are blocked with flood water but we are by no means the worst in the country; villages are cut off, people have been without power for days and there seems to be no let up to this cycle of bad weather. 

Here, in the Rectory, we are dry and have not had any power interruptions - we are fortunate. The Rector@6 visited houses and saw the devastation of the flood water. One of the main sources of the flooding is our 'winterborne' river which, this summer, had remained dry for most of its course through the village. The water just disappeared down 'sink' holes and into the ground, leaving the river bed exposed. I did wonder this summer, what happens to the fish when this happens? But now, the river banks can't hold the torrent of water that is trying to flow through the village. Our usual footpath to the fields is serving as a necessary overflow and diverting the water onto the road. It makes a spectacular waterfall flowing out onto the road! This, in turn, creates additional problems to the properties on the road- as the cars make their way through the floods to the next village. It's not often you see the sign asking,"Please don't bow wave our house".

Christmas and New Year Celebrations seem long in the past but, in reality, the Rector@6 and I ended our celebrations on Twelfth Night with a party for the ministry team and one set of the churches' parish councillors just six days ago. This was to thank them for their support and encourage them with their efforts to update an old parish room. It was a convivial evening with fun and food. The Rector@6 had forgotten to tell me that there was no oven in the kitchen of the parish room when he issued the invitation for supper - but we managed!
I can't believe how little spare time I have - hence my lack of blogging. So what have I been doing with my time? We are finally moving out completely from our Devon house and it is being rented to a village family in February - which is much better for the village (rather than being left empty and only used only for weekends and holidays). But it has been emotionally hard for me - it is the final acknowledgement that we have moved on (there is no going back!). We still have work to do and we are trying to get down to Devon whenever we can - and our eldest son and girlfriend have been doing loads of work for us. This has helped me to let go. Our Rectory looks similar to when we moved in, just under a year ago - with boxes in the porch and hall, settee and armchairs in the garage and a spare washing machine loitering in the passageway. Our next job is to find a home for all the excess goods - the ones that have made the move up here. Our son and girlfriend have already done a lot of sorting, recycling, dumping and rehoming of our stuff. Now it is our turn - am I dispassionate enough?

There is always hope - if we would just look for it.

Strategies for coping in the new benefice

Hurrah! - The scaffolding around the Rectory has gone! The builders are coming back - but at the moment we are a builder free zone. It's been eleven weeks since we moved from Tavistock and I can honestly say we (and I say WE) have never been so busy. The Rector@6 has survived the Easter services and he has managed to attend 4 of 6 annual general meetings. We have had a host of invitations and, where possible, we try to attend as we want to meet as many people as we can. There are times that we have to say no - and Sunday lunch has proved to be one of those times. I would love to share a Sunday roast but The Rector@6 needs to stop after two services  - and to stop talking - especially if he has a service in the evening.

I have found a lady who needed help with her heavy horses - so I am riding regularly again - and on a shire cross and a Clydesdale. When I left Dartmoor I thought that was the end of riding Clydesdales. Leaving Major, the Clydesdale, was very hard. When I arrived in Dorset, I answered an advert, not knowing what sort of horses I would be helpng with. God certainly moves in mysterious ways! This riding is outside any of the parishes and I find that I am really able to relax because of this. I have yet to commit to activities in the parish.

The Rector@6 is getting to grips with six diverse churches and is attempting to draw them together but, understandably, they want to keep their identity. The question is - how does the Rector@6 reduce his work load? He has a small ministry team - so he is not alone but they can only be stretched so far - however enthusiastic they are. Drawing the churches together has to be a priority and when we have had a joint service, there is a definite sense of optimism.

It's not all rosy - while many are keen to support and help the Rector@6, there have been others who have been waiting for the new rector so that they can address issues that are troubling them. He has had to learn to handle these unexpected telephone calls and not to take some comments personally, as these issues have often been brewing for some months before the Rector@6 arrived. He has found this a difficult side to the work and I have seen him chew over such issues for longer than he should. And then the sermon preparation gets squeezed - and if the sermons are not sorted - the day off is not a day off, as the Rector@6 tends to be preoccupied and not much fun!

Walking is our great escape and, with the better weather, we are finally discovering where we are. We have bought a personalised map which is centred on our village and includes all the parishes. The map is displayed on the loo wall so that we can learn the landscape and contemplate our next walk. The sunshine and clear skies mean that we have been exploring our surroundings and finding those places that are 'awesome'! (We have followed up on useful suggestions from fellow bloggers) We have spotted the first bluebells in the ancient woods that fill the landscape and we will soon be surrounded by seas of bluebells. We see deer regularly and yesterday  I saw a tiny fawn in the undergrowth while I was out riding. The deer tend to stay still when I ride rather than run off as they do when I am walking. We are learning to look and see the beauty of the diverse countryside that surrounds us. There are ancient woodlands and sandy pathed forests. There are vast flint ladened fields and acres of pastures. There are miles of well signposted footpaths and bridleways to explore. I missed the sea when we first moved to Dartmoor - now I miss the moor but through the camera lens, I am learning to look with fresh eyes and the landscapes are opening up their splendour.

Sunsets and Sunrises

Our room with a view.

I seem to have become the 'silent rector's wife' and have lost my writing voice for the moment. I think the Rector@6 and I are experiencing such a roller coaster journey at the moment, that I need time to reflect before I record my thoughts. One moment our life is full of sunrises and excitement for new opportunities and the next, we seem to have a run of sunsets as things close down and opportunities do not fulfil their promise. Everyone must experience this when they move to an unknown area and each day, the Rector@6 and I venture out in different directions to glean more knowledge about our area. I do find it a lonely process at times - while the Rector@6 has the opposite experience of having to meet so many new people at so many different occasions. I am wary of jumping into things with both feet and, already, I am glad that I have been wary but soon I must take the plunge and make some firm commitments. But everything is so new - every person, place or journey is new. And that is stressful.

I am missing the sense of 'awe and wonder' that I experienced on Dartmoor and, before that, living next to the sea. I have yet to find that place where I feel refreshed and can marvel at the greatness of God. It is when I stand looking out to a huge grey sea that no man can master - or look at the huge boulders stacked on top of one another, forming a precipitously balanced Tor in the bleak open moorland, that I feel a sense of God and a sense of how minute my problems really are.


There are these places here, I'm sure, and we will find them - when we have the time to explore. For now, I must continue to live in the present and take pleasure from things that are much closer to home such as the glorious primroses that are scattered in their hundreds all over our back garden. Even on the grey days, they seem to smile. And the view of the village church silhouetted by wonderful sunsets that we can see from our sitting room. And, of course, there is Tess - the eternal optimist - to keep us on the right tracks!
 

One week to go

 

I am sitting in our sitting room surrounded by piles of books, cushions and sleeping dogs. At the moment they seem unphased by the chaos that surrounds them. Jed the ten year old collie cross, Jem the sixteen year old lakeland terrier and, our newest addition - Tess, the thirteen week old daughter of Jed, are quite relaxed about the prospect of a move. I wish I was!