Categories: uncategorized
Date: 06 April 2005 22:43:14
What an interesting bunch of stats. Someone found me by googling for Gardening clubs - Tonbridge Wells. (The same person who ran a search on Seamus Heaney's 'Digging,' I guess).
Happiness, by the way, is remembering that you've not yet started on the birthday chocs given to you by your son, three days previously. And remembering that you've still got part of the C4 's '50 best comedy sketches' left to watch. So it was that when our neighbour phoned at 7 p.m. to ask if I was coming to homegroup, I....well....fellow bloggers, I cannot tell a lie. The urge to stay in on the sofa with Mr Miff, chocs and TV was too great to resist. Neighbour was great about it. When I explained she said she'd have done the same except that she'd probably have fibbed about her reasons. Well, I never did! Shades of the online Miffy struggling to get out IRL, methinks. How embarrassing.
She got out at the weekend Wightmeet as well, regrettably, or not, acccording to the way you look at it. It was great to have a few days free from all responsibilities (bar a couple of agitated calls from MIL, who thought she'd had some money stolen. Luckily it turned out to be a false alarm) and to just bumble around the island with fellow bumblers. Going all reflective for a moment, I guess one reason for its success as far as I was concerned was that Mr Miff enjoyed himself, and felt included. This is difficult to explain, but, since we left our old church - and I'll say 'our' despite the fact that spouse is a firm atheist. Mr Miff, despite some few attempts by folk in the church here, has never really fitted in. Partly because of distance and other committments, partly due also, I think, to the different situation. Over in Europe, you were, whether you wanted to be or not, part of a large, if fluid group of Anglo/American expats. Most folk lived far from family and old friends, and as such any groups such as social clubs, churches etc, formed a sort of substitute 'family.' With the church especially, small in numbers and formal programmes, but big on social contact, the boundaries of who's in, who's out, who believes and who doesn't tended to be very flexible. Even though Mr Miff only attended services once a year, as here, it didn't seem to be an issue. He was just Mr Miff, Miffy's hubby, along with Tom, Dick and Harry, or Mary. There was no thought of trying to invite him to 'seeker' events or Alpha courses, no offers to pray for his eventual (or not) salvation. Whereas here, with the odd exception, his experience is more like mine at various of his work 'does.' You spent a couple of (slightly embarrassing) hours with a group of total strangers, half of whose names you can't remember since you only see them once a year. They spend much of the time talking shop, the which you hesitate to join in with in case you make an embarrassing faux pas and show your other half up. Eventually it's over and you breathe a sigh of relief.
This is getting far too deep for comfort. As for the escapee online Miffy, I'll tell you about her escapades another time.