Emily McGuire and the Order of the Pheonix -February at Capernwray

This post has no similarity to the real Order of the Phoenix, which is sad, but also not sad, because I don’t have the emotional energy to deal with an Umbridge or be possessed by Voldemort. Anyway, here we go:

February 1st

I’ve been sick for the past few days, but it’s just the right amount of sick where you have to lay in bed and rest your aching bones, but you’re just well enough to enjoy it. To find yourself walking along the knife’s edge between health and malady in this way is a rare and wonderful privilege, which I celebrated with eagerness and zeal, but not too much eagerness and zeal, as I was bedridden and afflicted *cough cough*.

February 2nd

We’ve been doing a study of the minor prophets in lectures, and so far, the one I relate to most is Jonah. This has something to do with the fact that God gave him a rather high-risk mission and he was just like, “How about no.” And then basically 90% of the book is just him trying to avoid doing the thing, which, if you’ve ever talked to me about my spiritual life, is pretty relatable, because I’m type of person who, while singing “I Surrender All” in church, is having a private conversation with God saying, “I probably shouldn’t be singing this, because we both know I only surrender about 40%.” But that is a side issue. Jesus and I have discussed this. It’s a work in progress. Usually His response is something along the lines of, “Emily, will you please chill? Giving me control of your life does not mean I will command you to go be a martyr this afternoon. Let’s just enjoy today together for now and like look at flowers or be kind to people or something.”

Anyway, back to Jonah. I also relate to him in that he is a MAJOR drama queen. Like, he can’t just run away from God by ignoring God, or going to the neighbouring country. He literally gets on a ship going to the opposite end of the known world. And it’s possible that the text could be saying that he bought out the entire ship for just himself. This man does nothing by halves. It gets better when the whole thing happens where God gives him a plant to give him shade, and then after the worm eats it, and God is like, “U mad bro?” and Jonah says, and I quote, “I’m so angry I wish I were dead.” Someone put that boy on reality TV, because he is practically a Kardashian.

February 7

I just got back from a weekend in London (blog about that adventure to follow) and we came back on an overnight bus, meaning I didn’t get back to Capernwray until 6:30am, and then I had to show up for 9am lectures. If you’re wondering how that went, refer to this photo which was taken that day:

Anyway, this day happened to be the first day of practical training week for our upcoming 10-day outreach, and sometime during my slumber, my team got assigned the fun task of throwing together a skit about the 10 commandments by the next day. We ended up pulling it off really well, and both actors and audience had a lot of fun, especially with the commandments about murder and adultery (don’t worry, it was kid-friendly, that was part of the requirements).

February 8th

The fields around Capernwray, like any good English fields, are abundant with sheep, which means this time of year they are becoming abundant with lambs. Natalie and Julia and I went on a quest to meet the lambs, a LambQuest, if you will. (LambQuest sound like the name of a Christian video game, which, given what happens when Christians try to make movies, is the last thing we need. Sorry to let down the army of God here, but let’s be honest, the only good thing about God’s Not Dead 2 was that hot lawyer.)

So if you are a heathen who didn’t slam down your laptop screen and boycott my blog after reading the previous statement, let us continue our literary romp. We did find the lambs, and they were precious. Some of the weedier ones wear little plastic ponchos to keep them warm when it rains. So cute. At one point, one of the lambs ended up on the wrong side of the fence from its mom, and was running back and forth bleating in distress, trying to get back to her. We wanted to help it, but it was scared of us and would run away when we approached, so we couldn’t pick it up and place it on the other side of the fence. Our next idea was to herd it over to a bit of the fence where it could cross more easily. Unfortunately, this meant trying to corner it, which meant us chasing it down while it bleated in terror. I have never hated myself more, but it had to be done. Actually, it didn’t have to be done, because it didn’t work, and eventually it got back through the fence on its own. Still, we tried. Poor little fellow.

The other fun thing that happened to me today was that I ended up agreeing to co-host the Oscar night for the Capernwray short film contest, and by agreeing to co-host, I mean agreeing to write a script and try to make it funny. It’s all very well to write a blog post, which people can find as amusing or un-amusing as they like and it will have no effect on me because I am doing it all from the safety of a computer screen, but saying things that are supposed to be amusing to a crowd of people and facing the possibility that you might be met by cricket noises is the stuff nightmares are made of.

February 9

There was a group doing P90X yoga in the sports hall today, and because it was about time for my bi-annual day of exercise, I joined them. It was killer, but luckily this is one of the few social activities I’ve partaken in where 8 years of classical dance training actually makes itself useful, so I hung in there pretty well, and I felt very healthful and vibrant after. Couldn’t walk the next day, but such is the way of all flesh that has been subjected to many a warrior pose.

February 10th

There is a petting zoo within walking distance of Capernwray, and they were doing free admission today, so a bunch of us went down to befriend the local fauna. I got to hold piglets, and take a selfie with a really ugly and totally magnificent pig, which was thrilling. We had a grand old time cuddling with the baby goats in the courtyard, and then we went into the shed to hold the animals in there. I had a bunny in my lap and Anna Rose (who is my incredibly smart and equally crazy seatmate in lectures) was sitting beside me holding a ferret. Now, I have known for many years that ferrets are inherently evil fur-covered snakes. They are always the bad guys in the Redwall books. They are the devils of the animal kingdom, hairy slinkies that slunk their way out of the underworld long ago and roam the earth seeking to burn mouse villages and lay siege to abbeys full of innocent rabbit monks. However, I didn’t want to be racist, so I was trying to give the ferrets at this petting zoo a chance. As we sat there with our animals in hand, Anna Rose asked if I wanted to take a selfie with our cute animals, and of course I said yes, because the two things I will never turn down in this life are cups of tea and selfies. As we leaned closer together to take the selfie, suddenly the ferret lunged. It clamped its jaws onto the rabbit’s eye and held fast. Chaos ensued. I was speaking in my crisis voice, which sounds simultaneously calm and panicked, saying, “We need help. We need help. Get a staff member, this is an emergency.” I was terrified of trying to pull the bunny and ferret apart because it looked like it had it by the eye and I was afraid it would rip out its eyeball. Meanwhile, Anna Rose was hitting the ferret repeatedly trying to get it to let go, and the onlookers were LAUGHING instead of responding to my pleas for help. I don’t know how long it was before an employee came to resolve the situation, because traumatic events always seem to last an eternity even when they only last a few seconds. The staff lady prized the ferret away and all was well. Turns out it had just grabbed the bunny’s fur right above its eye, so he was not blinded and was able to live a happy life. As the lady put the ferret back in its cage, she said, “these aren’t supposed to be let out, I don’t know how it got out of its cage.” I looked at Anna Rose. She had a determinedly blank expression on her face. And in that moment, I knew exactly how the ferret had gotten out of its cage.

February 11th

Today was the Valentine’s Banquet, and I had so many men ask to be my date that I had to break up my night into 15 minute intervals so I could spend time with them all. Haha, kidding, thank the lort it wasn’t a couple thing, it was a night for the girls and the guys waited on us. Having men as your slaves is infinitely more fun than having them as your date. We all acted like rich snobbish housewives and ordered them around with much enjoyment. One of the guys did live music during the meal, and he opened with that “A Thousand Miles” song from White Chicks, which caused much excited shrieking and singing along, and then closed with Love Story by Taylor Swift which caused even more shrieking and singing along, a few tears and several confirmed cases of fainting. Such is the power that vintage T-Swift has over a group of college-aged girls. As if we needed any more nostalgia and romance that evening, following the banquet was a showing of the cartoon Beauty and the Beast in the conference hall. Good luck to my future boyfriend on trying to top this Valentine’s Day. If he can’t, I will understand and show him mercy. I’ll only break up with him if he gets me a giant stuffed bear. There is nothing so gauche as a stuffed bear. If a man must express his love by getting me a bear, let it be a real one.

February 12th

Remember forever ago when I had that outreach that I had to leave for at 8:30am and I woke up at 8:25am? I got to go back to that church for outreach again today. This time I told my testimony (if you aren’t fluent in Christianese, testimony is just the story of what God has done in your life. Extra points if yours involves drugs. Unfortunately mine doesn’t, but –I flatter myself- I’m a good enough storyteller that I pull it off pretty well.) Anyway, I was talking about how Christians don’t have to be afraid of death, but I think I took it too far when I said, “I make jokes about death!” very brightly to a group of old, polite British folk. Sometimes I forget to tone down my personality when I’m around people who don’t know me very well. Alas.

After the service, we were sent out with various church members to knock on people’s doors and give them Christian leaflets. Oh my grunk, there is nothing in this world that I hate so much as leafleting. Seriously. There is nothing in this world that drains my soul so much as knocking on the doors of strangers and interrupting their day and seeing the barely-masked annoyance on their faces as I try to force literature upon them. If I were a Mormon and I believed I had to go door-to-door as part of gaining my salvation, I would just throw in the towel and accept that I was going to hell, because I’d take eternal damnation over leafleting on a regular basis.

But, for the sake of Jesus, and for the sake of small churches doing the best they can, I am willing to very occasionally offer up my body as a living sacrifice and subject myself to leafleting. A word to ministers in every corner of the land: the members of your congregation who are willing to hand out leaflets are your A-team. These are the people who are committed. Treasure them and crown them with many crowns, because they are your work horses and they are the backbone of all that is good and holy in your church. I’m not talking about myself here. I’m talking about that small, intrepid group who do it on a regular basis. They’re also the people who get to events early to help set up and stay late to tear down. They’re the 10% who pull the weight of the other 90%, and they may be working in the background, but please, never ever let them go by unseen. That is all. Thank you for your time.

Right, back to me. Did I mention we were leafleting in a BLIZZARD? I had planned my outfit for that day the night before, and my internal monologue was as follows: “Well, I’ll be sensible and not wear heels, but I should be fine in a dress and tights, I mean, it’s not like it’s gonna snow.”

Ha.

February 13th

Today is Galentine’s Day! It’s also 2017, which means that it was the only day ever that the two most important holidays for Parks and Recreation fans –Galentine’s day and Treat Yo Self 2017- would converge. And that’s the story of how Natalie talked me going into Lancaster with she, Josie and Harrison. And buying a dress I didn’t need when I was supposed to be being frugal. But hey, what are friends for? Also, when we were waiting for our train back to Carnforth, we got into a conversation with a kindly oldish man who worked on the platform. When he found out Natalie and I were both going to be single on Valentine’s day, he said, “wait here” ran back to his office and returned with a handful of heart shaped chocolates for us to share. Let me tell you girls, it pays to be unattached. Josie was salty because she didn’t get chocolate, but Josie has a man so she can stuff it. Her jealousy was assuaged the next day when Harrison presented her with a bouquet of chicken nuggets as her Valentine’s Day present.

February 14th

So not much happened on actual Valentine’s Day, except that I worked a bit on a paper about Mormonism. I’m sure everyone’s next question will be: “Did you incorporate lyrics from the hit musical The Book of Mormon into your paper?”

Like heck I did. This is what they get for telling me I need to incorporate more outside sources into my work.

February 17th

Tonight was the night of the short film awards night (that’s too many uses of the word night in one sentence, please don’t tell or the blog police will be on me) and it was a smashing success. Me and my co-host, Zack, got to wear those fancy theatre people headset mics, and got to make a dramatic entrance, strutting out onto the stage to raucous applause, which I allowed to rain down on me like manna from heaven. My only mishap was that I almost forgot to announce one of the awards, but it was no more a catastrophe than what happened at the real Oscars this year, so I rest my case.

February 20th

So with the end of school fast approaching I realized that I still needed to go on one more outreach in order to meet the minimum requirement to get the certificate (and gosh darn it, I was determined to get that complete certificate). So, I went with a group that was going to a Salvation Army old people’s get together. The upside: they fed us lunch. The downside: it was the most wretched and tasteless lunch I’ve ever eaten. It was literally just ground beef, mashed potatoes and peas, but with absolutely zero seasoning on anything, no salt, no butter, only death. I had to pretend I was a Dickensian orphan eating my gruel in order to get it down. But anyway, it was all worth it because I made friends with an old dude called Dennis who was a kindred spirit. He asked me what my future plans were and when I said, “Well, plan A is to marry rich,” he just laughed and said, “You are stirred by the emotions of materialism” which is the most beautiful description of myself I’ve ever heard. Later in the conversation he told me I’d got petrol for blood, which is probably the most flattering thing anyone has ever said to me. We had a good time, me and Dennis. It’s not often you find a friend like that.

February 21st

If you don’t arrive in the conference hall for lectures before 8:55 in the morning, they close the doors on you and you have to wait in the lobby, get marked as late, and then, after the prayer/song/whatever they do that day to start lectures is over, you and your fellow truants are released into the conference hall to get to your seats whilst everyone watches you and judges you for being late. We have affectionately dubbed it the walk of shame. As someone who has walked the walk of shame a fair amount during her time here, I’ve actually come to enjoy it quite a bit. Everyone looks at you and you get to sweep in and show how cool and rebellious you are because you chose to put on mascara instead of rushing to class as soon as the bell rang.

I don’t have any kind of logical segue for this next bit of information, but Natalie just told me that when she was in 4th grade she wrote a play about Obama’s daughter and then she and her siblings performed it, with her in the starring role, and if that’s not an important factoid I don’t know what is.

February 24th

Today was the first day of our 10-day outreach! More on that in the March instalment of the blog, but we had a great first day, and the church we were at fed us non-stop. Anyway, that’s all for February, but soon and very soon the tales from my last month at Capernwray *distant sobbing* will be up on the blog, and then we can all cry together as the narrative comes to a close.