BABY AIRPLANE HARNESS

Waltham St. Lawrence Church sits in an idyllic setting in the centre of a quiet village, well away from passing traffic. A farmyard on one side and the superb Wealden-built Bell Inn on the other. The Newbery family who set up one of the earliest printing businesses are buried in the churchyard and scratch marks on the masonry by the main south door are popularly thought to have been made by the devout going on Crusade. Inside, the church gives the impression of being very tall and narrow. The striking Jacobean style pulpit was only made in 1870 from more ancient panelling, but the font is 15th century and shows traces of a lock to keep devil-worshippers away from the holy-water. There is a large wall monument featuring several of the Nevilles of Billingbear House, but it is hidden behind the organ in the north chapel. The south chapel is now used as a church hall.
(David Nash Ford's Royal Berkshire History)
Like much "art" in churches they are often overlooked and ignored, yet their appearance upon graves and monuments since the C16 has been central to a Christian view of mortality. Western Christianity cherubim have sometimes become confused with putti—innocent souls, looking liked winged children, that sing praises to God daily—that can be seen in innumerable church frescoes and in the work of painters such as Raphael and Rubens.

In Catholic theology, as per the ideas presented in the writings of Pseudo-Dionysius, the cherubim are second highest rank in the angelic hierarchy, below the Seraphim. In western art, Putti are sometimes mistaken for Cherubim, although they look nothing alike. They are also mentioned in the Bible in the book of Genesis (Gen. 3:24) as the angels who guarded the east side of the Garden of Eden with "a flaming sword which turned every way".

One suggestion (by scholars such as David Rohl) is that the word Cherubim as used to describe the guardians of Eden in Genesis, derives from the word 'karibu' - a warlike tribe.

Day 361-- I am thankful for parents and grandparents. Specifically, mine.

I'm sorry this is such a low-quality photo. It looks like I took it with my cell phone. I would really like to do better, especially here at the end of my 365, but some days are like that. (Even in Australia, as the book says.)

I actually took pictures of the fire again with the intention of using one of those as my 365, but then I got mixed up in the sorting and processing later, and I used an earlier practice shot two days ago. Oops. No going back now.

Anyway, I like the moment, even if it wasn't particularly well captured.

I can't wait for my new camera to come!

My kids and my brother's kids devoted the weekend to circling and listing everything they wanted for Christmas from the big pile of ads that just kept growing with each new newspaper. It's tradition. It's also great writing practice for Emily, and an easy way to keep her from asking me for everything. I just say, "Wow! That DOES look neat. Better put it on your list!" and send her off to take care of it herself. I love having a literate daughter.

Annika is super adorable when she's reading. She's usually very quiet, unless she's upset and screaming. She doesn't babble. She uses a few key words (mama and baba, mainly) or she points. But--when she reads, she has a voice. She turns pages and babbles long strings of random sounds, and you can tell that's exactly what we sound like to her when we read out loud.

biggibiggibiggigiggle glidaglidagle