Mine mine mine!

A few weeks ago we signed up to Geocaching and like over 6 million people around the globe, we are in the process of finding and logging the 2.4 million+ caches around the world, starting with the 8000+ ones hidden here in the UK. So far we have logged 34 of them. It's a long term project.

The boot of the car now contains essential caching equipment so we can spontaneously pull over in random locations en-route to somewhere else and search for undiscovered treasure.

Kit list:
• Gardening gloves
• Pruning shears
• Pen
• A long branch (acquired during cache find 26)
• Piriton (Manchild has hayfever)
• Small treasure tupperware of lego bricks, cinema ticket stubbs, shells and loom band bracelets
• iPhone (not in boot, but constantly on person as we are sad that way).

Our limited hunting experience has unearthed 3 trackables- items with their own ID tags which allow them to be tracked online by their owners as they are placed, retrieved then carried to the next cache in the real world.

Trackables are given a goal of reaching a particular country, or series of locations, or in the case of Futuristic Freddy (retrieved from Cullompton services and deposited in Bridgend) seeing as much of planet earth as possible before returning home to the planet Zarg. Whatever goal the owner sets, 6 million fellow cachers are pledged to assist as long as they are nearby, have a decent phone signal and no Muggles are watching.

One of the trackables currently in our possession wishes to reach Scotland. I was in Scotland a week and a half ago. I could have made someone's dream come true but it's still sitting at the front door because we forget about it. Trackables are not stored with common or garden caching treasure in The Tupperware. (They are too special and would make the loom bands jealous).

We need to get a move on and deposit it SOMEwhere though, even if it's not in Scotland or even North of our position right now. Cachiquette requires that hunters keep trackables in their possession for no longer than 2 weeks and time is running out! Of all the things going on my life right now that require urgent attention- like the kids passports arriving in time for the flight we have already booked in 4 days time, losing a car key for a hire car resulting in K being temporarily stranded 230 miles away, invoicing our last job so we can pay the suppliers who helped us deliver our last job and a flea colony in one of the bedrooms (which our house sitters pretty much dealt with in our absence thank you very much and sorry about the bites), getting rid of the coin is consuming my thoughts a little more than it should.

Because it's not ours to keep.

Ownership is a strange thing.

Sometimes what isn't actually ours can appear to be so, purely because of the length of time we've had it. If I keep the trackable coin, it won't cease to belong to it's true owner - I'll just annoy whoever that is and maybe get an arsey email or have our account suspended or something. The coin won't become mine just because I choose to keep it.

Paul said the message of Jesus is just like this. It's a trackable. It's meant to go far and wide and change lives wherever it goes- because it's owner has set the mission and wants it that way.

The trackable doesn't belong in one place. One people group, country or denomination does not have the monopoly on Grace. It's for everyone and it's free. And if you keep hold of it you violate the rules of play and prevent others from coming into contact with it. You become a gatekeeper. A Pharisee. A trackable thief.

Some people try to referee- but the mission is to sign up and play. To leave the treasure at another cache, ready for the seekers who are already on their way to find it.

I don’t care about my own life. The most important thing is that I complete my mission, the work that the Lord Jesus gave me—to tell people the Good News about God’s grace. (Acts 20:24)

Amendment

Proposal for change in family charter. Raised by myself on 06.01.14 at 1800hrs (after feeding and therefore gaining the trust of those present).

Background to case: 
1. I personally wish to be fitter. And a little bit lighter. This way you (Oh largest Brewsling) can overtake me in weight as well as:
• height (this happened last year) 
• shoe size (May-ish 2011. He's now a size 9 and mocks my childlike feet)
• ability to synch our shared iTunes account (I still can't do this), reboot the server (I CAN do this as it's a simple off and on again job) and
• basically fulfil all household technical needs in the absence of your father (there's a whole ton of man crap that goes on in this house that I have no interest or gifting in. This covers ALL of that).
• Finally you shall likely gain the upper hand when we arm wrestle

Doesn't that sound good? Yes? Ok- moving on. 

2. Gym membership is a drain on our family's resources.

3. We now own Wii dance. Using it in the comfort of our own home is therefore effectively free of charge, bar what we bequeath to e.on each month out of the goodness of our hearts. 

Recommendations:
I hereby propose that from this day forth, the Wii U may be used on Thursday - Tuesday for the purposes of health and fitness by jumping and sweating along to I kissed a girl and Gimme Gimme Gimme a man after midnight until one of us gets co-ordinated enough to win more coins and unlocks a wider variety of (perhaps more edifying) songs. Weekend game play will remain unchanged.

Would anyone like to second this proposal?
Biggest Brewsling. Fab- thank you. You don't dance so I wasn't sure how this would go with you.

Family vote?
Yeah! Everyone's happy.  Fantastic. Let's adopt this policy immediately. (No- PUT THE CONTROLLER DOWN! Thank you- we shall reconvene in the den after you've washed up and I've emptied my bladder.)

Heights

A few years ago I went on a 'Go Ape' day in the Lake District with a bunch of mates and staff from the Childrens' Centre along the road that I LIVED at when the kids were young. 

It promised to be a fun team bonding experience to unite volunteers, staff and parents alike. It was April and sunny. Transport there and back was being provided. The entire day was to be spent outdoors, hiding and seeking with different coloured flags, canoeing in the nearby river and saving each other from swamp monsters with ropes, hula hoops and planks of wood. 

It would be a whole day off from motherhood- playing with other grown ups instead. And best of all- it was FREE.

The day unfolded as promised and for the most part was a bonding experience- aside from a brief altercation between 2 teams when some treasure (a selection of small beach balls) was stolen from one canoe by an opposing team. Words were exchanged, paddles were splashed on purpose and a few of us ended up caught in the cross fire and joined in the splashing more than anyone- just because we were wet and reckoned everyone else should be. However, it ended well with us all singing Wonderwall very loudly and badly and laughing a lot.

The bestest bonding bit wasn't screeching singing Wonderwall until our throats were sore though. Nor was it escaping quicksand using only lateral thinking and some green hula hoops or defeating a swamp monster with six planks of wood and a length of rope. 

The most adventurous bonding bit was the Pamper Pole: a 25' telegraph pole with handles all the way up, a small platform at the top and a trapeze suspended 8' away, tantilisingly close but hopelessly out of reach unless you STOOD on the platform and jumped out towards it. The team had to take it in turns to scale the pole, stand on the platform at the top, then jump into mid air towards the trapeze and hang there for a few seconds before being lowered safely to the ground by the rest of the team, who had solemnly sworn to prevent death by plummeting. 

Cool. Bring it on. Heights don't really bother me. I love white knuckle stuff as long as it DOESN'T involve spinning, which the Pamper Pole so far had shown no signs of. We watched with excitement as others took their turns. We held the rope for the climbers on our watch. We cheered when team mates reached the top and jumped. In unison we lowered the victor back to earth and high fived them on touch down. We commiserated the ones who climbed back down, muttering 'I just CAN'T do it...' and then it was my turn! 

I climbed into a safety harness, got secured into it by our instructor and approached the Pamper Pole. It was just like any telegraph pole in any street in the country. I wondered if they got them from the same supplier? I began my ascent, feeling at once the pull on the safety harness as my team mates tensioned the overhead rope to support me. I climbed quickly and easily, feeling like a squirrel. I thought how novel it was to not see the world from a 5'6'' perspective. I marvelled at how quickly everything falls away and how privileged squirrels are being able to do this without bulky ropes and chains. Rung by rung I climbed, not even out of breath, impressed at how much height can be achieved in such a short time and how tiny... the people... on the ground... had suddenly become... 

I was half way up.

I kept on climbing but slowed my pace, suddenly missing my 5'6'' view of everything. Look up- not down. That's it, the Pole is still right there in front of you. Embrace the Pole. It is your friend. One rung at a time. Then embrace. Next rung. And embrace. Now the next rung. And embrace. Now the next rung. And... I seem to have run out of Pole. 

There's only sky up here and NOTHING to hold onto! Now that I've reached it, the platform that looked so solid and reliable and perfectly adequate to accommodate a pair of feet has shrunk to the size of an A4 piece of paper. I'm not sure how to manoeuvre myself into a position where I can actually stand up on it. Not without my friend, the Pole.

My team yell encouraging things from the ground and I'm constantly aware of the tension in my harness. I KNOW I won't fall to the ground and die painfully. But from a position of leaning horizontally over the platform, hugging it into my chest, I'm not sure how to progress to standing on top of it and not be hugging anything. I have been sitting and standing for many years now, but right at this moment 25' up in the air I can't seem to remember how to do the bit in the middle. 

Maybe I'm not that fond of heights after all? The parting words of my mother play back in my head when I left her babysitting that morning, 'Just remember Jennifer- Be Careful. You have 3 children at home!' 

I compromised. I maneuvered awkwardly into a sitting position and sat on the platform instead. I desperately wanted to stand on it but the instructions on how to do this were missing from my brain. After a minute or two of sitting I pushed off and  l a u n c h e d  myself in the direction of the trapeze. I touched it, the team lowered me back to earth and cheered when I landed, and then it was all over and the next climber, already harnessed in, began to climb the Pole.

Ah well. Sitting is OK. It's not as good as standing, but it's more exciting than climbing halfway up then climbing halfway back down again.

I thought I was OK with heights until I was way much further from the ground than normal. It turns out, I don't really like heights at all. 

This is true of many other things I'm sure. How many beliefs do we have about ourselves and each other that have never been tested by way of contrast to see if they are accurate? I may think I'm pretty laid back or reasonable, but unless I'm faced with someone who is controlling or unreasonable (or BOTH), and manage to retain these qualities, how do I know? 

Seriously- just how easy is it to show generosity to a greedy person? 

Or to meet sarcasm with courtesy? 

How about being reeeaaallly mega reasonable to someone who so isn't?

Not that I know any such people at all in real life or anything. (Whoah no- I'm only supposing). 

I bet responding with courtesy in the face of its absence is just like trying to stand up on a teeny weeny wobbly platform a mile into the air when you are not a squirrel. 

And being reasonable to those who lack it is probably doable, but not something that is natural or easy. And a safety harness (in some cases provided by a solicitor) would be advisable.