The Ba' an Orkney tradition

New Years day 2009 and no sleeping off hangovers for Orkney folk. You can find a large crowd gathered together to watch the Ba' which is a long standing tradition which dates back to well before the war. Christmas day and New years day every year gathers together brave (or slightly mad?) to play what can only be described as a giant game of rugby in the streets of Kirkwall. Now obviously I'm a newbee but I will try to explain the basic rules then add pictures so you can see for yourselves. here goes.
1. There are two teams the 'uppies' and the 'doonies' Your team is decided on which side of Kirkwall you live on, or how you first came to Kirkwall (boat or plane)
2. At 1.00pm when the cathedral clock strikes, the Ba' a large leather ball is thrown into crowd of waiting men and never seen again. Well at least not for several hours.
3. The object of the game is to get the ball up the way and touch it on a wall some way down the street or down the way and throw it into the harbour. That decides the winning team. Then follows a further scrabble to get the ball and from that emerges the overall winner who gets to keep the Ba'
4. It appears that the rule is there are no rules. Other than if someone goes down they are supposed to stop until they get up.
I think that's pretty much it but it's great fun to watch. As the two teams arrive to face each other off there is quite an atmosphere. There's a hushed sense of anticipation as the crowd wait for the clock to strike then the place goes mad. You need to stand well back in order to avoid getting caught up in the middle of it and as the scrum breaks and moves up or down spectators can me seen suddenly making a run for it!
All shops bar their doors and windows to prevent someone going through them and team players strap their trousers to their boots with yards and yards of duct tape to prevent losing their steel toe cap boots! (it appears it doesn't matter if your head gets mashed so long as your feet are ok!)
It's generally good clean sporting fun although they occasional fight breaks out and maybe it's an opportunity to settle an old score but I haven't heard of too much damage being done. That said I heard of a man who punctured his lung playing on Christmas day and was back playing on new years day!
The game lasts a minimum of 2-3 hours and the one pictured too 5. A long bath, a decent meal and a good sleep is probably what's needed after. And that's just for those spectating!
scroll through the pictures and note the shops being boarded up, the arrival of the two teams, hands ready to catch the Ba', scrum scrum scrum, and most amusing of all the steam rising from the scrum after just a few minutes. Just be thankful it isn't scratch and sniff!

The Ba' pictures (click on the picture to enlarge)

Th Ba' Pictures (Click on them to enlarge)

Remembering Simon

It's said that everyone remembers where they were when they heard the news that President Kennedy was shot. Likewise the death of princess Diana. For me, as long as I live, I will never ever forget hearing my father's voice saying ''Simon's died''

On 25th November I went to bed feeling happy with my lot. I had a good idea which direction my life was headed and I was thankful for so much including the recent news that my mother was again given the all clear from cancer. On Wednesday morning I answered the phone to my father knowing instantly that something wasn't right. Dad only has to say ''Hi Sarah'' and I know straight away whether the news is good or bad. This time the news was worse than bad. It was worse than I could possibly imagine. My brother had taken his own life on Monday 24th and been found the following day. I cannot even begin to describe the utter devastation and shock I felt. All I could say was ''oh daddy daddy daddy I'm so sorry I'm so sorry'' Apparently my sister said ''daddy'' too. Something we haven't called dad in years but something we both did when hearing the tragic news.

What followed from that phone call was without a doubt the most distressing and traumatic weeks of my entire life. I have never had to endure anything so awful and hope I never will have to again. Due to my brother living in Florida I had to get on a plane within hours and meet my parents and sister there with none of us really having a clue what we were going to find. Simon had taken his life just before Thanksgiving which meant due to holidays and the weekend there was little we could do for the first few days except sit around and wait.

We were met and given wonderful hospitality by Simon's close friends and work colleagues. It was comforting to us all to know that their love for Simon was equalled to ours and they were as shocked and grief stricken as we were. Knowing how highly Simon was thought of and how loved he was, was a tremendous comfort to myself and my family.

There were times when I don't know how I managed to put one foot in front of the other as I struggled to come to terms with the over whelming sadness that had engulfed me. For the loss of my brother, for my parents loss of a son, and most importantly for Simon's loss of bearings in life that drove him to do this. No one saw it coming and we have talked for hours and hours over to the whys and hows and the if onlys. Nothing, none of it will bring Simon back. A light has gone out in our lives that will never be re lit. However, I know due to Simon's faith which he shared with me and others, that a light has gone on in heaven. His pain and torment has ended when ours has only just begun. I seem to spend large amounts of time just looking at photos of him. Sometimes I feel alright and can speak freely about him when at others the slightest thing can trigger another tidal wave of sadness and grief which consumes me. All I want to do is talk about him. Say the same things over and over and over. Thank God for those friends who are there to listen.

One of my short term coping strategies is to get as much information about suicide as possible. I know I will never be given the answers I am looking for but for me, having some information helps. While on my search I found these poems and words which I think are beautiful.

He Only Took My Hand

Last night while I was trying to sleep my son's voice I did hear.

I opened my eyes and looked around but he did not appear.

He said, "You've got to listen. You've got to understand;

God didn't take me from you, He only took my hand.

When I cried out in pain that night, the instant that I died,

He reached down and took my hand, and pulled me to his side.

He pulled me up and saved me, from the misery and pain.

My body so badly wounded I could never be the same.

My search is finally over now, I've found happiness within.

All the answers to empty dreams, and all I might have been.

I love you all and miss you so... please don't keep asking why.

My body's gone forever, but my spirit will never die!

So live until we meet again, and please try to understand

God didn't take me from you, He only took my hand.

~Author Unknown

__________________________________________

when I was born everyone in the room

was laughing and happy. I was crying.

when I died everyone in the room

was crying. I was the only one

laughing and happy.

___________________

John 14 v 2-3 There are many rooms in my Father's house. If there were not, would I have told you that I am going away to prepare a place for you? And if I am going away to prepare a place for you, I will come back again and welcome you into my presence, so that you (Simon) may be where I am.

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Revelation 21 v 1-4 Then I saw a new heaven and a new earth, because the first heaven and the first earth had disappeared, and the sea was gone. I also saw the holy city, New Jerusalem, coming down from God out of heaven, prepared like a bride adorned for her husband. I heard a loud voice from the throne say, "See, the tabernacle of God is among humans! He will make his home with them, and they will be his people. God himself will be with them, and he will be their God. He will wipe every tear from their eyes. There won't be death anymore. There won't be any grief, crying, or pain, because the first things have disappeared

________________________________

As I prayed and asked Jesus to tell Simon we love him and miss him, a friend who was with me asked me what the name Simon means. I looked it up there and then and it means ''listening''

Simon I know you are listening. Rest in peace my darling brother. Your loss is so great to so many people. You were and still are, very loved by very many. Thank you for being my brother.

________________________

If you have been touched by this post and would like to make a donation in memory of Simon please pass donations on to The Samaritans. Thank you.

Send forth your word Lord and let there be light.

Somewhere in the depths of an old photo album from many moons ago is a picture of me next to this lighthouse pictured. Taken at Old Hunstanton. This one was taken in August days before I moved up to Orkney. The one in the photo album shows me sitting in a pushchair and mum standing behind in a head scarf and rain coat. (ah those were the days when fashion graciously stepped aside to make room for warmth and comfort)
I wonder if that is when my love of lighthouses began? I have always enjoyed looking at pictures of lighthouses and watched with envy, programmes where people have converted lighthouses to live in.

This weekend I attended a lighthouses of prayer day. A group of almost 40 of us weathered the storms to make it to a coastal tearoom with spectacular views with a lighthouse to complete the landscape, and looked at ways we could impact our local communities by praying, caring and sharing. It was an interesting and encouraging day and I was genuinely uplifted to see how many people wanted to build up their communities by looking out for one another and looking for ways we could love,serve and help those people around us. There is a good community spirit in Orkney but we can always do more. Orkney is a very safe and friendly environment to raise children but people have the same stresses and strains wherever you go and we all need each other at the more difficult times. Just as a lighthouse warned the passing boats of the dangers of rocks, we as human lighthouses can be there to brighten up someones day or steer a misguided soul to safety. As conversations took place over the weekend we realised very much that sometimes we are the lighthouses. Strong and able to help light the way and sometimes we are the person in the boat feeling tossed around on a stormy sea. (I've paraphrased the conversations here but the idea's the same) I know I have been so grateful for the abundance of human lighthouses who have helped and selflessly served me over the years and hope to conintue the good work in other people lives.

We each took home a miniature lighthouse to remind us. I am lucky enough that in the distance from my lounge window I can see a lighthouse. I can't however see a little girl in a pushchair. Apparently she's all grown up now.

There's nothing better than.....

A solitary walk on the beach in November. Which is exactly what I enjoyed this afternoon. I've always loved being by the sea and this afternoon I drove to one of my favourite beaches here in Orkney and had a lovely time. The dog ran around like a loony as is his want and I walked along the isolated beach taking in the lovely air and sound of the waves. I'm always fascinated by the abundance of shells too. I see one and think it looks nice and pick it up then walk along and see another one and another and another. Then I can't decide which ones to pick up and which ones to leave and there are just so many of them! Why do I take such delight in picking up shells? I have no idea but it's probably to do with simple childhood pleasures of being by the seaside on holiday where I could spend hours playing on the beach. I finally decided on three extra special shells to bring back with me and left the remaining millions where they were. The one pictured was collected by Elliot a few weeks ago. He's clearly a chip off the old block.

Oh dear, I'm going to be so late!

Church starts a little later in Orkney. 11.15am which is considerably later than what I grew used to back in Cambs where we started at 10.30am for service and if I was singing then I was (supposed) to be there for 9.30am. I'm told the later starts up here was traditionally to enable farmers to get their milking done before church and presumably before modern milking equipment. 11.15 seemed to me so humanly late for a Sunday morning that I never imagined I would be like the white rabbit from Alice in Wonderland (pictured) But sure enough we make the time fit the job (or is it the job fit the time?) and still now I find myself rushing at the last minute to get the kids ready, screaming at them 'wash face, clean teeth, get your shoes on we're going to be late' followed by us tearing down the road (within the speed limit of course!), parking, flying up the steps and into church and trying to look composed knowing that once again we have broken the speed of sound as we politely wish others a good morning. The same goes for Elliot's school which starts at 9.30am. 'No problem' I said. I was used to getting him to school as early as 8 previously so I could go on to work and that included a ten minute drive. Surely now school started so late here and was on the doorstep, I would have time to bake, wash the kitchen floor or do the ironing before even needing to wake dear son. Not so. The words are pretty much the same 'wash face, clean teeth etc.... Then I send him on his way offering up a silent prayer of thanks for the speedy scooter which gets him there just before the bell. The only day left for it not to be an issue is Saturdays when I'm guaranteed never late for my lie in. My dad is a stickler for time and has never been or ever will be late for anything ever. I guess I take after my mum!