An Inspection!

 

As I've said many times, I have a wonderful landlord.  It's a charity which lets houses only to retired Anglican clergy so tenants are very well vetted before they move in!

Anyway, one of the ways they are wonderful is that all houses are inspected regularly so they can plan maintenance and improvements.  Personally I think my house is fantastic anyway: occasionally I have minor niggles but when I complain everything gets sorted.

But yesterday was The Inspection.  It happens about every five years.  I don't have to do anything other than make sure the surveyor can access everywhere he wants to access.  And I make him a cup of tea.  And feel slightly embarrassed as Annie-the-home-enhancer hasn't been since before Christmas.  

For me one of the joys of getting older has been that the world actually feels less critical – or maybe I no longer care so much!  Even when my house is inspected I can’t get terribly worried about it.

W is for Willoughton and Walesby

St Andrew's Church, Willoughton

 For nearly fifteen years I was Vicar of Willoughton.  It was one of the five parishes in my group.

Today I have taken a service at Walesby.  I go to Walesby a few times each year, sometimes to lead and sometimes to be part of the congregation.  I have no "formal" relationship with Walesby, I am not their vicar.

Only a minority of Willoughton residents came to church but everyone knew me as the vicar.  Sunday by Sunday I lead worship in the various churches in the group.  They knew they could call on my services when there was a wedding or a funeral.  I would attend as many village events as I could.  

St Mary's Church, Walesby.

I take services at Walesby only when invited by the Priest in Charge.  She looks after eleven parishes and needs help every Sunday but there is a Non Stipendiary Priest and several lay ministers helping her most Sundays.  Today the NSM was away so I filled in.  I don't take weddings in that group and take only very occasional funerals when asked to by the Priest in Charge.  I don't live in the group and I attend very few events there.  I am free to accept invitations anywhere I want, and I fill in for clergy who are ill or on holiday.

I take services on one or two Sundays each month but I am free to say "No" when invited.  Eventually I will no longer lead but I will still be in church, in a pew, grateful for the love of God shown to me through other ministers.  

S is for Sabbath, Sunday and the Shape of the week

I was very amused at the comments about my early rising time on my last post.  No-one would want to rise at 4am!  Neither do I but that's how it is.  I often wake much earlier than that but I don't allow myself to get up before 4am.  

But the shape of my week is something about which I make very conscious decisions.  Sunday has always been a special day for me.  Worship is central.  Sometimes I lead and preach, sometimes I am grateful for someone else's ministry.  Then it's usually home for a quiet day at home.

And before that I usually have my Sabbath.  I started this habit many years ago.  Lockdowns seemed like one long Sabbath!  My Sabbath is less structured now but it is more part of my nature.

Then Mondays I often swim, Tiesdays and Fridays it's the gym, Wednesday Annie-the-home-enhancer or Jack-the-lad may come.  There might be a Women's Institute meeting or coffee or lunch with friends.  I could shop in Brigg or just go out on my trundle truck to enjoy this lovely town.

But always I am glad to come home to the peace of my bungalow. to listen to audiobooks or to knit or just to be.  

R is for Retirement

 

I love it!

The other questions from "Q is for Questions" were about retirement and how I spend my time.

I spend my time with a smile on my face.  I get up between 4am and 5am and look at how the day is likely to unfold but, when I switch the light out at night and think back, the day has rarely gone as planned.  

I think I am very lucky to have been born in the nineteen fifties.  Childhood was a time of innocence and wonder.  The sixties were a time of change and challenge.  My whole life has been a time of scientific advancement in ways that would have been unimaginable when I was a toddler.  Opportunities for women have opened up more and more as my life has gone on.  

And now I am fourteen years into a lovely, secure retirement.  The bungalow is comfortable and safe thanks to my lovely landlord and the efforts of Annie-the-home-enhancer and Jack.  I have a car and trundle truck so can get out when I want to.  I have hobbies to enjoy while I am at home and friends to laugh with when I go out.  I still lead some worship but am choosing to do that less.  

I am able to drop everything and go out for the day or spend a few days dog sitting.  If I would prefer to be at home, the craft stash provides me with challenges and entertainment.  

And in everything I am secure in the love of God.  I am truly blessed.

More answers: ambitions

Poppy Patchwork asked What plans have you, things to do before you get too old and regret not doing them?

Can I let you into a secret?  I want to go on another cruise!  

I felt a little deprived when I was seventy as covid was raging and anyway I had just had a replacement knee so my activities were limited.  When I was sixty I had hosted a lunch party but at seventy it was a quiet lunch at home with just a couple of people.  So I decided that I would celebrate when I am seventy five.

I never thought that I would enjoy cruising but about twenty years ago my sister, who was in poor health, decided she wanted to achieve a few life ambitions which included cruising off Alaska and seeing whales in their natural habitat.  She was a wheelchair user and needed an assisitant so our Mother paid for me to go as well.  I loved it and when I retired I took another cruise to see New England in the Fall.  It was on Queen Mary II and left Southampton on my birthday so I felt it had my name on it!  

Queen Mary II

This time I want to go to either the Arctic or the Antarctic.  Probably the Arctic.  I've seen a wildlife watching cruise which I quite fancy.

This ambition influences quite a lot of things I do.  It's motivated me to get fitter so that I can enjoy the trip.  It's motivated me to continue to lose weight.  It's motivated me to organise my finances.  The very idea brings a smile to my face.  All those things are contributing to a happy, healthy retirement now.  

Great fun, this retirement lark

Stainton le Vale

 One of my close (clergy) friends has been on a cruise around the world in eighty days (lucky girl!) and will be back next weekend.  So next Sunday will be the last of a run of twelve Sundays when I have been booked to take her services.  These are the churches where I have been doing my bit with God's help.  It's still a joy to serve Him but it's getting to be a rather tiring joy!

Normanby le Wold

Great fun, this retirement lark.  I started to draw my pension over thirteen years ago but I keep being needed to cover for sickness and holidays.  I'm no longer willing to cover because a parish wants more services than the regular clergy can take but I want the regular clergy to have holidays and to recover from illness so I still help out.  

Claxby

I'm glad to help because I care about my fellow clergy and their congregations.  There are far less clergy on the payroll now than when I started in ministry over thirty years ago and those who are in stipendiary ministry are having to work even harder.

Croxby

I'm leading worship next Sunday then I have one Sunday off before I take two services the last Sunday in the month.  Great fun, this retirement lark!

Walesby

M is for Ministry

 I haven't done an alphabet post for ages and when I checked I found the next letter due was M which seemed very opportune as twenty nine years ago, on 24th April 1994, I knelt in Lichfield Cathedral to be ordained as a priest.

24thApril 1994

It was a momentous day and not just for me.  On 23rd and 24th April the first fifty one women to be priests in the Diocese of Lichfield were ordained.  In some dioceses there were protests but the Lichfield ordinations were joyful and calm.  The evening of that same day I celebrated the Eucharist for the first time in Shrewsbury Abbey.

There's been a lot of water under the bridge since then.  It's no good asking me to kneel now - that's not going to happen!  I served as curate at Shrewsbury for a further year then moved back to Lincolnshire to be incumbent of five parishes.  Thirteen years ago I retired and I think I have led Sunday worship in at least thirty different churches during my retirement.

Soon my public ministry will reduce further and eventually the time will come to hang up my dog collar. For the moment I still help out a few times a month but my health is making this increasingly difficult and I don't want to wait until a congregation saiys "Enough is enough!"  but I shall never cease to give thanks for that wonderful day back in 1994.

Why do you wear that thing?

 That’s a question children used to ask a lot when I was in the regular vicars.  I don’t wear it so much these days, but before I retired I wore it every working day.

It meant I never needed to introduce myself.  People recognised it as a badge no matter what faith they were or even if they had no faith at all.  Not all clergy wear them and what I write here is my own practice as not even all Anglican vicars have the same views as mine. There are no regulations saying we must wear it: the rules just say we must wear clothing suitable to our office: (Plenty of scope there, then!)  Many clergy never wear a collar and many are careful not to wear it in places where they may at risk.  

Actually the collars I wear have to be worn with a special shirt, a shirt with a tunnel collar so that the collar can be slipped in.   There are other styles of collar and each demands a particular type of shirt The collar isn’t  the most comfortable thing to wear as it’s plastic and condensation collects under it in hot weather.  However, as it is plastic I can stick it in the dishwasher occasionally!

Mention of the dishwasher reminds me that it is far from unknown for clergy to make collars out of washing up liquid bottles, with or without “Fairy” printed on. 

This joy has been building up for ten years!

Have you ever wanted to not want something?  I have.

It was ten years ago and I was in the middle of a mental breakdown.  I'd been doing two quite demanding jobs simultaneously. I was vicar of five parishes and I'd been carer for my Mother as she recovered from the amputation of a leg when she was 88 and then slipped into dementia.  In both those roles I had to be a rock for other people and my mind and body eventually rebelled and said it was their turn for a little TLC.    I just couldn't work any longer.  I wanted to retire but I hated retiring at 58.  I felt like a failure.  Looking back I had no reason to be ashamed but it didn't feel that way at the time.  

And so I resigned from a job which I had loved but I was unable to do properly any more.  Retiring as a vicar means one loses not only one's job (and income) but also one's home, social circle and (in my case) a lot of my identity.  I was not in a good place emotionally and within weeks of my retirement my only sister got a terminal diagnosis and once again I was a carer.

It was not a good time.  When I should have been caring for myself I was instead helping my sister, which was demanding as she was disabled and a wheelchair user even before she had the cancer.  When I should have been trying to build up a life for myself here in Caistor I was away at her home helping her to sort out her life before she left this world behind.

But over the years my life has changed.  I'm no longer "the vicar" but I can get far more work on a part time basis than I could ever do! I can still exercise ministry and indeed do so on a very regular basis.  I've got a very comfortable home and a thriving social life.  And most of all I now wake every morning with a smile on my face and an expectation of a joyful day.

Yesterday was the tenth anniversary of my retirement.  I took out for lunch two friends who helped me and listened to me all those years ago and are still my great friends now.  I have never been so happy.

Old vicars never die they merely pray away

"Greet one another with a holy kiss" was Paul's instruction to the church at Corinth and he would have been pleased with the church at Croxton today.  I used to take services at Croxton regularly until they got their own vicar a couple of years ago, but today their vicar was away on holiday so I went back. It was wonderful!  I got hugs and kisses and there was a noisy catch-up on events since I was last there.

Ministry in retirement is great fun but it can be very sad because I am inevitably just a stop gap.  I grow very fond of the people (and I think they become fond of me) but what they really want is someone who is very specially "theirs".  At that point I move on and I avoid going back so that the new person can form a special relationship with his/her new congregation without anyone glancing back over their shoulder.  They are in my prayers but not my diary.  

But today I was back at the invitation of the new vicar.  They knew I was coming so they even baked me a cake!  nd I am eating it as I write this post.

Thank you, Croxton!

Bittersweet

Last month I celebrated my Silver Jubilee as a priest but I have actually been in stipendiary ministry since 1987, first as a lay worker, then as a deacon before I was priested in 1994.  I retired from stipendiary ministry early in 2010 when I was 58.

I took a year out to be carer for my only sister who died at the end of 2010 and soon after that I started to do the "odd Sunday".  It didn't take long for that to become every Sunday so from 2011 to 2016 I led worship in The Brocklesby Park Group of Churches, a group of five parishes with no other Sunday clergy.  It was wonderful.  I felt fulfilled but not overworked and I was rather sorry for myself when a new vicar was appointed and I had to move on.

Then for nearly a year I helped in the Walesby Group of Parishes.  There was already a Non Stipendiary Minister there but she needed a bit of help with the Sunday worship in that group of nine parishes.  I wasn't needed every Sunday but whenever they needed me I tried my best to respond.  They got a "real" vicar eventually and I expected life to become quieter.

But the Kelsey Group (eight churches) was having difficulty finding a new priest so once again I found myself needed every Sunday and also for the occasional offices as baptisms and weddings and funerals are known (think special services for special occasions).  I have been busier than I have ever been since I retired.  Every Sunday I take a service and so with visiting and service preparation I have been very busy

Next month the Revd Marion will arrive to be Vicar there and once again I will not be needed.  As in both the previous groups I've been asked to continue to help out and while I'm happy to enable regular clergy to have their holidays I'm not willing to continue on a regular basis.  This year I have bookings to go back to both the Brocklesby Park Group and the Walesby Group and I shall go joyfully and am sure I will be warmly welcomed back. 

So I am now on my round of farewells in the Kelsey Group of Churches.  It is bittersweet for I am sad to leave them but happy that they have a new priest coming. 

And I hope they will pray for me as God shows me what he has in mind for me over the coming months.

And this is September

A whole new month!  And I've got very little in my diary.

Except a week of watering someone else's garden, maybe starting crochet lessons, a couple of Women's Institute meetings, and maybe a couple of Trefoil Guild meetings too.

Oh and I'm booked for a baptism, four meals out and a crafting group. Maybe a harvest festival or two.  

There's a skirt cut out and waiting to be sewed.  I'm not too far from finishing a sweater and a couple of hats.  The Christmas cards must be made this month. Someone has asked for a Christmas stocking.

The garden needs preparing for winter and a new freezer inventory is needed.  I'd like to sort my dining room too.

Did I say that I have very little to do?  There are only twenty nine days left in the month to get all that done!

Claxby

I retired (again!) on 4th June.  Today I started working again.  Today I went to Claxby to preach and celebrate Holy Communion.  As you can see it's a pretty little church at one of the highest points on the Lincolnshire Wolds.  (Which never get very high.)  I'd taken a funeral service in a snow storm there many years ago (the only time that I have worn wellies to conduct worship) but apart from that it was a new church to me.

And I was made so welcome!  It would be easy to think that of course they're grateful - if I didn't go they couldn't have a communion service!  But it goes further than that.  These lovely people were sorry that their much-loved Rector has retired but they are enjoying seeing new faces, hearing new "takes" on the gospel and most of all knowing that no matter what changes they may see (or hear) God's love will always be constant and he has them in mind.

And I was reminded too that although specifics may change, God will always have plans for me too.

Thanks

Six years ago I offered to help for one or two Sundays a month at a group of churches not far from here.  It would just be for a few months.

Over the last six years I have led worship on 222 Sundays. conducted fifteen funerals, three weddings and twelve baptisms.  I have prepared two people for Confirmation, visited the sick, and offered pastoral care.

In return I have been loved and appreciated, supported when facing major surgery, helped to recover from a mental breakdown, and encouraged as I have faced increasing disability.  I have been given tomato plants, flowers, cakes, wine and gin.  Those lovely people have laughed at my crummy jokes, forgiven me my boo-boos and made me one of their own.

Later this month they are getting their own vicar and I shall move on to other places where there is no priest available.  Yesterday I took my final service for the Brocklesby Park Group of Churches.  I cried then and I am crying as I write this.  I left with prayers, blessings and an incredibly generous gift.  Thank you.

No more locusts

The reading in church this morning was one of my favourite passages from the Old Testament.  It's from the Book of Joel and it includes the promise, "I will restore to you the years which the locust has eaten"

Seven years ago I took early retirement because of ill health.  I had loved my job but two years of caring for my mum (she had to cope with the amputation of a leg and then the gradual loss of her health leading eventually to dementia and death) had taken their toll on me and I was more than stressed out and no longer coping.  Early retirement was both a relief and a devastation.  I felt, as they say, that I was on the scrap heap with little more to give.

The first couple of years of retirement weren't easy either.  My sister (whom I'd cared for through cancer ten years earlier) became terminally ill so once again I became a carer.  Early retirement was a time of very limited income as only about half my pensions were payable at that time.  

Gradually things improved.  My income is now comfortable.  My home is a peaceful place where I can relax.  I'm no longer "the vicar" but I have a regular congregation whom I love and which appreciates me.

And today I am sixty five, the age at which I would have expected to retire anyway.  I cannot remember ever being happier than I am now.  The locusts munch no more.

God is indeed good

The best is yet to be

Grow old along with me!

The best is yet to be,

The last of life, for which the first was made:

Our times are in his hand

Who saith, ``A whole I planned,

Youth shows but half; trust God: see all, nor be afraid!'

That's by Robert Browning and that second line is often in my mind.  I would never have believed how good life is in these later years.  True, I have my aches and pains but life is truly glorious.

Each day, each week, each month brings its own glories and soon August will start.  One of the most wonderful things I have read on a blog this last month was someone's goal for the month.  She listed only one goal, just "Enjoy summer" and those two words have enriched July for me.  Thank you, Rivulet.

So I'm going to have "Enjoy summer" as my hope for August.  You may remember that I prefer hopes to goals.  I'm hoping to have a picnic at Normanby and maybe one at Clumber Park.  I'm hoping to sit in my swing and to smell not just the roses but the lavender and the sweet peas too.  Could life ever be any better?

It's the little things

Sometimes I feel a bit Pollyanna-ish when I write this blog as I always want to accentuate the positives and rarely report the negatives.  I feel there are enough unhappy people and enough unhappy news without my adding to life's misery.

I've been busy today doing a few of my unfavourite things - cleaning the oven and the fridge, scrubbing bins, tidying things away - but I seem to have had a smile on my face all day.

I've realised that much of my joy comes from the little things.  This morning as I was doing the ironing I added some lavender oil to my water spray and enjoyed the perfume.  I sprayed the pillowcases and know they will be extra lovely when I change the bed.  I scooped out soap powder and laundry bleach using coffee cups with pictures of Winnie the Pooh and Eeyore respectively.  There was a blackbird singing while I pegged out the washing.  Jack's handiwork is flourishing in my vegetable patch.

I could go on and on listing the little things which have enriched my day but many are very personal things which evoke memories and bring very personal pleasure.  The best thing though is that in retirement I have time to enjoy, to savour and yes, to give thanks.

My Sabbath is beginning.  I am truly blessed.  Thank you for reading.

ITMA

It's that MOOC again!

The MOOC "Know Your Abdomen" was the shortest I have done so far at just two weeks but I was so fascinated I actually finished it in two days. I've signed on for a follow up course starting at the end of March.

As well as that I went to Futurelearn.com and found that Trinity College Dublin offers a course called "Strategies for Ageing" which starts today so I signed up.

I am now umpty-twiddly-four and I'm hoping that before too long I will work out what I am going to do when I grow up but whilst I'm working that out I might as well work out what I'm going to do when ageing strikes.  I don't want to be defined by the date on my birth certificate either by others or by myself.  So far I'm having a great retirement and if I can discover ways of making it even better, lead me to 'em.  

One of the great quotes in an early session is from Satchel Paige, an American baseball player whom I'd never heard of. How old would you be if you didn't know how old you were?  

Well, how old would YOU be?

I've just realised!

Today reminds me of a very special pleasure - the pleasure of leisure.  Six years ago, on 21st January 2010, I (officially) retired.  I actually hadn't worked regularly for a year before that as I was ill.

I am not one of those people who wonder how they ever found time to work but I do wonder how I found the energy!  I have a busy life still.  I now cook almost everything from scratch, I knit, sew, crochet, and make cards.  I still take Sunday services and I do some pastoral care.  But everything I do is now unhurried, considered and done with joy.

I had been in paid employment since I was eighteen when I left school and became a library assistant.  Even when I was at college I did some work as a baby sitter, theatre usherette, dish washer and library assistant.  After college I went to Nigeria as a librarian on Voluntary Service Overseas and then had a brief time when I didn't work as I had a couple of months in hospital.  After that I had no gaps.

And now I have a time of leisure, still busy but with time to enjoy the snowdrops in my garden.  Life is good.

An inspector calls

I got inspected this week.  It feels a bit weird!

Actually, to be strictly honest it was my house which got inspected.  I rent my house from a charity and my excellent landlord has all houses inspected periodically to make sure that they are up to current standards and safe for older people to live in.  It’s not my housekeeping which was inspected, just my house.  For which relief, much thanks as Shakespeare said.

I wonder if we ever get past the stage of being inspected.  It starts at school with exams.  Actually I didn’t mind exams when I was at school but when I tried to sit some more as an adult I got SOOO stressed.  Then more exams to enter a profession and exams and practical inspections throughout our working lives. 

And that says nothing about the times when we just feel we are being inspected, judged or otherwise put under scrutiny.  Sometimes the world can feel like a very hostile place!

For me one of the joys of getting old is that the world actually feels less critical – or maybe I no longer care so much!  No-one can fire me from a job as I haven’t got one.  I have no need of more exams or qualifications.  Even when my house is inspected I can’t get terribly worried about it.

And that’s another joy of getting older.