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 To anyone who may happen on this blog I wish you a 2021 filled with all the best of what was missing in 2020.

A year of fear anxiety grief and loneliness for so many and with  none of the feel-good factors which normally make our days worth while.

This week I have lost a sister-in-law, my late husband's one remaining sibling, and yesterday a well-loved friend from church.  The list goes on growing.

The one sure thing is that looking forward really is the only way to face a New year, looking back on this one will give no-one pleasure.

So what have we?

We have hope and that springs eternal, or so we are told.

We have the vaccine, or vaccines (at last).

We, the lucky ones still have the chance to avoid the virus and prayer to sustain us,

Not too shabby.

A blessed New year to one and all.

A very different Christmas Eve

 There  is no suitable illustration for this year's Christmas Eve so plain and unadorned it is. 

My increasingly long gaps between posts are a reflection of this rather awful year.  

In the heyday of blogging when life was full of interest and possibilities it was easy to sit and rattle off a few paragraphs full of nothing very much, but happy in tone. 

To be brutally honest I have found it very diffilcult to pretend that all was well and still there was something to enjoy every day.  

This year has been a beast of a very different nature for nearly everyone, old or young.  Surrounded by family or alone.

It has always been my contention that being alone was not the same as being lonely.  This year has proved me wrong.

Someone who dropped by (on my drive while I stood in the doorway), said "I would love to give you a hug", to which my response was, "hopefullyy soon".

As I said it I realised that the last time anyone actually touched me was in mid February during the exchange of "the peace" at St Mary's.

The neighbours who take me food shopping once a week tell me they are amazed by my upbeat attitude, and that they think I am doing very well. 

All I can say is that I must be a better actress than I thought.

Despite being in tier 4 and with litttle prospect of anything better for quite some time there is at least the promise of the vaccine, which at my advanced age should be coming my way fairly soon, so all is not quite so dark as it was. 

Every Sunday I "attend" the 10 am service on youtube and enjoy (and envy) the virtual choir and later on this evening I will be at Midnight Mass, so to speak. 

Without the choir (even if not physically present), and the Christmas services this year would be a pretty miserable one, but I have good friends and neighbours, a warm comfortable house and plenty to eat and drink. 

So many people world-wide have none of these things which gives me a kick right where i most need it.

At Midnight Mass tonight I will pray for them, for all of us, and yes, for myself too,

May we, you all have a happy Christmas and a very much healthier and happier New Year.

I won't quote Tiny Tim but you know what I mean.

Another Giant Bites the Dust

 This morning switching on the 7 am Radio 4 News as i do every day I was stunned to hear that John Le Carre has died.

My favourite author for more than 30 years I somehow expected at the very least, immortality,

When my husband was still alive one of my Christmas presents would always be the latest Le carre, and the present I would treasure most.

Not always an easy read, full of intrigue, treachery betrayal and the worst behaviours of which human-kind is capable, he nevetheless imbued all of his characters with such recognizeable traits common to all of us that we could easily identify with their humanity.

Through even the most convoluted plots there always ran a strong vein of integrity so one felt that this was the real world of the spy. 

Apparently a rather private man who didn't really like too much public attention, he seems to have had a dislike for all the fuss and flag-waving. chest-thumping sort of "patriotism" which accompanied the launch of his "Tinker Tailor" books.

It seems hard to imagine that there will be no more such treasures to look forward to.

May he rest in peace.

If you can't beat them laugh at them

 

Since sleep is once more evading my grasp it seemed a good time to have yet another moan about the plague of scammers trying to rob us of our hard-earned cash. 

For the last 2 or 3 weeks I have been beset with daily and sometimes twice-daily calls from BT and Amazon.

Both sets of fake callers have a  similar technique, beginning with "your BT Broadband will be discontinued from 9.00am to,morrow, Or, Your Amazon account will withdraw the amount of £79 from your account tomorrow".

They then say if I wish to prevent this happening I should press 1 ....

Needless to say they are both automated calls so no reply is possible, so what I now do is say (to no-0ne) "Good luck with that" and then leave the phone off the base and walk away.

I know this will only result in their losing a very small amount of money but it gives me a small malicious gleam of satisfaction.

You would think they would be bright enough to work out that if they get nowhere after the first twenty or thirty calls they are never going to do so, but apparently they can afford to go on phoning endlessly, leaving me with the hope that I can at least outlive them! 

Ancient Ruins

Once again Google in its wisdom has decided to make access to my blog even more difficult than it was before, resulting in a very strange format.  But so be it.  

This is my third attempt to blog in a week and the first time I have succeded in getting anything in print.

My theme was to illustrate the similarity between one of the crumbling walls of St Mary's and my own ancient frame.

For both of us papering over the cracks is no longer effective and while the church is at least beginning to obtain the necessary funds to do a good repair, my own repairs are long past having any real value. 

The result will, in time, be a beautifully restored 12th/13th Century grade 1 listed building and a handful of dust. 

This is exactly the way it should be but, seeing (usually accidently) my reflection in a mirror, I find it hard to recognise my present appearance when in my mind I am still 35. 

This awful year with the loss of relatives friends and members of my (social) circle, has been and still is something of an endurance test.

Normally there would be the wonderful prospect of learning practising and singing all the lovely Christmas music, with a welcome rest afterwards to look forward to. 

This year every forseeable day will be exactly the same as the rest of the year has been.

Living alone has its merits but this year has illustrated poignantly and vividly just how much the company of others matters.

Let's hope and pray that the good news about the various vaccines will prove to be the means of all of us beginning to live our lives again.

This old ruin should be good for another decade or so with luck.

 

The Blues

 I like the above picture of St Mary's because it reflects perfectly how I feel about my "2nd home".  The last time I saw it was Sunday 15th March and it looks as though it may well be 15th of next March before I see it again. 

Hopes of a national/international triumph over the virus are fading fast as numbers of infections once more rise at an alarming rate world-wide.

Yet still some stupid people are risking their own and everyone else's lives with careless selfish behaviours which are endangering everyone they come into contact with.

However unwelcome the idea of another total lock-down may be, it is beginning to look more and more likely to happen.

For those of us still being shopped for or suported by neighbours friends or relatives or even more usually, volunteers, there seems no end in sight to the massive debt we owe all those wonderful people.

How, or when we may be able to repay this debt is quite a major concern for many of us, while also being aware that the longer this goes on the more likely it is that some, probably most people will begin to suffer from altruism fatigue. 

In the first rush of genuine concern and warmth of feeling many people produced amazing feats of generosity and kindness, but it would be unreasonable to expect the outpouring of good will to last indefinitely. 

We are all, after all human.

I am still offering prayers of thankfulness for all who are keeping me alive, but am also only too aware that expecting such angelic behaviour to continue for ever is asking far too much.

I wonder if anyone has factored in to the statistics the fact that at some stage the entire voluntary support system is likely to collapse. 

God bless the volunteers.

Octember

 One of the many strange affects of this pandemic is the way one day merges into another seamlessly, so that most of us who are in "hibernation" not only do not know what day it is but often which month we are in.  

At first this worried me, but now nearly seven months since I ventured out into the real world it is no longer a matter of concern.

Soon, as it becomes darker and the days shorter it will no longer matter whether it is day or night.

Like many of us I have learned a new way of using my days/nights and find that in my case it is better to do what needs doing as soon as it appears necessary, or with the switch of a button the monster in the corner otherwise known as the TV will rule all my waking hours.

Yes I still feed the birds and record their daily appearance in my garden for my BTO records, and I still occasionally walk out and dead-head roses and other shrubs.

I walk to the post-box (all of a quarter of a mile) and back and consider my exercise for the day to be complete. 

A phone call from a friend or even the window cleaner has become a major 'happening' filling my day with good feelings, while the silent days merely cause hollow echoes of a previous life.

Since the only outing I now can look forward to is the weekly shop courtesy of my kind and lovely neighbours, I find it increasingly difficult to imagine a time when (hopefully) there will be a church, and a town and library and other wonderful things to enjoy.

Worst of all, is the suspicion that I may now have become accustomed to isolation.

If anybody has a storecupboard full of motivation will you please send me some, by carrier pigeon (suitably masked of course).

A Little Night Musing

Once again I find myself sleepless and with nothing much on my mind of any interest to anyone, so of course I felt bound to share it with the rest of the world.

The photograph above of the view from St Mary's south door down to the gate is, I think , a particularly atmospheric one.

It has an almost Dickensian feel and I loved it so much that I stole it from our newsletter.  I don't know who took it but they obviously have a sense of drama almost as well developed as mine.

A more compelling reason for using it is to remind me that it is nearly six months since I last set foot in St M's.

Although I greatly value the zoomed service on Sunday, it is a very poor substitute for actually being there, ensconced with the rest of the choir in the chancel and able to sing and take part whole-heartedly.

They have started to hold services again, but with only a very few (30) in the congregation and of course with no 'live' choir, and I can't help wondering if and when that will be replaced with the real thing.

Some people who can get to the church on foot cannot understand why I and many others are not even contemplating getting there by public transport (if any), or by taxi, but so far I haven't dared to risk  any such means.

The virus, I fear, will be with us for a very long time and I'm trying very hard not to feel cheated of my one real pleasure.

Real life these days for me and many thousands like me is a poor imitation of our previous one.

At present I go shopping with a neighbour and that is it.  Once a week and no other jaunts.  Sometimes it feels like a bad dream, but this is apparently the way life has to be lived for the forseeable future.

I apologise if this is a miserable epistle but sadly that's how I feel at present.  My sense of humour appears to have packed its bags and departed.  Can't say I blame it.

Forty Years On

 Sorry about the lay-out Google has changed access to everything.

Yesterday was my eldest brother's funeral some of which I was able to access by zoom.  Not in any way perfect but better than nothing.   

Yesterday was also the 11th anniversary of my husband's funeral, so it was yet another August coincidence. 

Today is the 40th anniversary of the day we moved here into this house, our first and only 'owned' home.

The 28th August was not only my parent's wedding anniversary but also the day John and I met for the first time, having previously only had telephone contact.

The next day, 29th August was John's birthday.

Just to add piquancy to the list John died on the 11th August (and so by an even more bizarre  chance so did his son) two weeks ago.

My mother's birthday was on the 12th August, a fact on which my father always commented "the beginning of grouse shooting".

So one way and another this 4oth Anniversary is over-full of things to remember. Good and bad.

I'm sure the next 40 years will also be packed with odd facts and councidences but not mine of course. 

Joy in Small Things

This morning after the on-line service a friend from the choir came round to see me, and for the first time since 16th March I let her in.

She came to bring me a card from her and the family and her personal condolences on the loss of my brother 9 days ago.

I wrote in my previous blog how I felt about loss during this pandemic but didn't mention the extra burden of not being able to talk about grief to anyone.

Just having a friend face to face (suitably distanced) made such a huge difference that by the time she left - cup of tea and one and a half hour's chat later - I felt as though someone had rolled the clouds back and let the sun shine again.

Being a stoic and not making a big fuss over things are seriously over rated behaviours, particularly when emotions are acute and the need for even tiny grains of comfort are supremely important.

It feels like a huge change, allowing someone over the doorstep, but oh how worth it it was.

Thanks be to God for good friends.

Loss in a pandemic

Since Lockdown began I have counted 8 deaths of people I knew, starting with a 14 year old girl, a member of our church, and culminating last Friday with the loss of my eldest brother.

None of these deaths were officially due to Covid 19, but i cannot help but wonder whether one of the hidden affects of the virus is loss of energy, vitality and optimism, and  whether these can actually cause a death.

The fact that none of these people no matter how greatly they were loved will receive the sort of send-off they deserved, and which we would love to give them makes the loss much more keenly felt,

Many of us are still not venturing out or taking public transport anywhere, never mind the considerable distances involved for many who have lost friends or relatives.

What kind of long-term affect this  may have on us is not yet known, but I can't help but feel that the grieving process will take a very different form than it would have done pre Covid.

Prayer and lighting candles in our own homes (in my case alone), will only go so far to easing the sadness we feel, with no chance to share the family or friends group of fellow mourners we would normally use as a crutch.

Let's hope and pray that an end to this awful period of our history will come soon.

Scared - Who Me?

Today I ventured out (thanks to my neighbour who gave me a lift), for the first time since 18th March,

To say I was scared stiff is the understatement to beat all understatements, I was terrified!

The mask I was wearing was slowly roasting me and my hands were sweating in the gloves but that was nothing to  my heart rate which was super fast.

Once in the supermarket I was just so intent on the actual shopping that I forgot to be nervous and luckily as it was 4.30pm there were very few people in there, which made it much easier.

It was becoming apparent that if I didn't make the effort to go out I was soon going to be unable to do so, and I'm so glad I did.

If anyone had told me what a terrifying prospect going food shopping would be  back in February I 'd have laughed at the idea.

The huge  change of mind this pandemic has brought about in so many people is astonishing.

One small step for woman.......

Nature Abhors a vacuum (and so do I)

Some people have 'found themselves' during this period of isolation, discovering new  found skills, doing all the jobs they have been putting off for months or years etc.

I have found just one - that is the art of doing absolutely nothing at all and honing it to unbelievable heights.

I did begin with the intention of cleaning my house from top to bottom as it has never been cleaned before, the more so because my cleaner has not been here since the 2nd March.

My unfamiliarity with my vacuum cleaner (in fact I'd say we were almost total strangers to each other, ) resulted in aching arms, hot sweaty face and a feeling of exhaustion like nothing previously experienced in my very long life.

Every day since 18th March when my prison sentence began has been filled with long periods of drifting followed by short (very short) periods of activity.

Not a total slob, I have showered, washed and cut my hair, washed clothes, changed bed linen etc, but together with the occasional foray into the garden to dead-head or do five minutes light pruning or weeding has been just about my limit.

Twice friends from church have brought their own garden chairs (I have none), and have sat in my front garden while I sat on a footstool in the doorway.  I made them tea and we had a lovely long chat and spirit-lifting hour or so, and I have of course kept in touch with my nearest and dearest by phone, but I have forgotton what most other people look like and only hope we will recognise each other when all this is over.

My next-door neighbours who are still doing all my shopping are now more familiar to me than any other person (and of course greatly valued by me).

Whether I will ever discover hidden reserves of energy or enthusiasm for cleaning my house is a bit of an unknown, but, they do say it's the thought that counts.

And I've thought about it a lot

FREEDOM ???

This picture just about sums up the position we all ought to be occupying if we are still obeying one set of rules.

We are apparently allowed out now, that is, those of us who have been shut in our homes since mid-March.

While one part of me is dying to get back into something like normal, the other, more cautious part is saying "hold on, it really isn't safe out there yet".

I am one of the very lucky ones who have really good, kind caring neighbours who have done all my shopping for nearly eleven weeks.

This has made me eternally grateful, but also very lazy, and changing the pattern is going to be difficult.

As  I don't drive and the town is 2 aand a half miles away, there is no way I could walk there and back, let alone carry heavy shopping, so the only solution is to risk travelling by bus and getting a taxi home.

Frankly, I'm scared stiff at the mere thought of being that close to so many people and I am quite worried about doing so until there is more certainty about the progress we are making in this fight with a deadly invisible enemy.

Courage is one thing, stupid careless behaviour something else entirely.

Help!  What is the right thing to do?

Is there really light at the end of the tunnel

The big question is not when but whether we are going to emerge from this pandemic in any recognisable way.

Given as I am. to introspection even at the best of times. this has presented me with a whole  new raft of potential problems.

Now on day 65 of my own version of lockdown it feels as though this way of life? could last forever.

Every time someone in Government suggests a tentative loosening of the rules a whole fresh batch of  questions present themselves and we continue as we are.

Those of us in the 'ancient' and therefore at risk group have grown uneasily accustomed to having our shopping done for us by kind neighbours or local friends and lovely though this is, the guilt at being kept 'safe' at the expense of other people grows daily. 

This is a debt we will never be able to repay, and the temptation to say, "I will venture out with a mask and gloves" grows ever stronger.

The fact that if we all did so, infection rates would boom and death rates double is the one factor which prevents many of us from taking this step.

People in the same or similar circumstances to my own seem to have a more optimistic view than I, perhaps just a question of temperament.

One thing which really worries me is that as a non-driver and unable to get to town without transport
will mean risking buses or taxis, not a cheering thought.

Loving and appreciating my wonderful neighbours though I do, there is still the feeling that at some stage their generosity will run out.  True there is no sign of that happening but the fear is still there.

As for the indiots who are flouting all the rules and ignoring the pleas and guidance of those who know what the consequences may be, there is no word for their selfish behaviour.

Truly this pandemic has produced armies of wonderful caring community-spirited people while also showing up the 'others'.

Thank God that most of the world seems to be in the former group.  Bless them and may they continue to flourish.

Stay safe.

Nocturnal Meanderings

This ominous sky photographed a few years ago in the middle of one of my many sleepless phases, seems to portray the state of my mind at present.

This very strange and unfamiliaar period of our history is making it quite difficult to behave normally, (or what is normal for us).

During the day my time is spent trying to find ways to occupy myself  in order not to watch 24 hour TV, while in the background a feeling of unease is a brooding presence.

My neighbours continue to do all my shopping and  a few friends phone from time to time but this period of imprisonment (57 days now) feels like a lifetime and with no immediate prospect of ending.

Used to being on my own but on my own terms rather than with the condition being imposed on me is changing the way I view solitary living.

Some people I know quite well who are in a similar situation are finding new energy and tackling tasks they have been putting off for years, while some are turning to alcohol as a mood changer.

These two solutions have no appeal for me and I am beginning to realise that what I do best and enjoy most is simply talking to people.


At the beginning of this hermit-like state of affairs I had vague hopes of some sort of epiphany, thinking I might emerge at the end a changed and in some way much better person.

I fear that was a vain hope and if anything I am becoming even more morose than before.

Even music has failed to lift my mood and I have not attempted to sing since early March so if the old way of life ever resumes I mayhave to be dug out of my shell with a shovel.

Back to bed , perchance to dream Or  maybe not.

REALLY ? ? ?

Conspiracy theories abound about the Virus but this last couple of day I have been astonished and perturbed when two people whom I respect and regard as intelligent reasoning human beings, have added another couple to the growing list.

I do not propose to give details here since there is quite enough alarming 'stuff' out there already, but i am beginning to think it  must be me.

Am I really so naive as to be the only one who accepts the generally broadcast version of events leading to this appalling pandemic?

True I am no scientist, but then, which of us is?

If the only theories were those tweeted by The Trump I would dismiss out of hand any ounce of credibility, but, sadly more and more l;ittle rumours are leaking out into the community at large.

The world is, we know, currently sick on a massive scale but are we also losing our minds?

Friends

Now in my 37th day of Lockdown I am really beginning to miss my friends.

So far having kept in touch by phone and email together with safe-distance chats with a couple of neighbours, the loneliness has not been too marked.


But, not seeing people is quite a deprivation not fully appreciated until now.

Compared with many people I am truly fortunate in that my next-door neighbours are doing my shopping, and another neighbour has taken over the business of ordering and when it arrives, installing a new TV.

Needless to say it chose this time for the old one to decide to expire

The only people who have so far been in my house are British Gas Emergency inspectors and my TV fixer neighbour (in nearly six weeks).

It's not as though my house  is normally the hub of the universe, just that lovely ;post-Sunday Service chats, occasional drop-ins for a chat tea coffee or just plain natter have all been wiped off the day's activities and house-work really has very little appeal for me.

Yesterday my gardener decided to risk a safe distance couple of hours in the back garden which has become very overgrown by creeping Cellandine and ground elder.  He did a wonderful job and i was very glad to see him, but the silences between contacts are hard to fill for someone as lazy as I am.

As my house grows steadily grubbier and the garden slowly disappears under the weeds, and the silence becomes an ever longer part of the day I feel like sleeping beauty (Apart from the beauty) oh and the sleeping that is.

If anyone has a spare sack of motivation will they please send it to me.

Until then, stay safe.

Cause for celebration

An email has just appeared on my Ipad from my step-daughter.

Her son has just become a father and now has a son of his own.

This makes me the baby's step great grandmother.

My late husband's daughter is obviously delighted and couldn't wait to share the news though perhaps she hasn't yet fully apprecisted her new grandmother status.

I am pleased for them all of course, but the actual relevance for me is slight since I haven't seen my step grandson for about four years (he is in the army), and have never met the baby's mother, so the new addition while I rejoice for them is only of passing interest to me.

If that sounds cold I apologise but never having had a child (nor wanted one I hasten to add) it always leaves me slightly perplexed when other women go gooey-eyed at the mere mention of a baby.

I know there is supposed to be a natural maternal instinct in all females, it's just that I wasbehind the door when it was given out.

An Easter Like No Other

This is normally the busyiest time of the year for me and one I value above all others since at St Mary's the music is sublime

This year with all the dreadful Coronvirus and the  necessary restrictions on all human behaviours we  have had to find new ways to live our lives and where possible to continue our traditions.

Lacking as I do, all but the most basic technical knowledge, my participation has been purely as an onlooker, and even that has been sporadic and with gaps in services etc.

Thanks to my wonderful next-door neighbours all my shopping has been done for me and I have been a cared-for prisoner in my home since 18th of March.

A member  of the choir dropped round a beautiful home-made Palm Cross for me last Sunday and I watched the service from St Mary's on utube

Yesterday I tried to watch the Maundy Thursday Service but had a lengthy phone call in the middle so lost most of it and today I failed to get a successful link for all but the last ten minutes, but in a way that made the little I heard even more valuable.

I am in awe of the choir members who have been able to make their vocal cords available for the less able of us, and admire both the skill and generous nature of their offerings.

It feels a bit claustrophobic sitting agt my computer with windows closed while the sun blazes down outside but at least there is this slender link between us.

Thanks a million, and stay safe one and all.

Priorities

If the current dire situation has taught me anything, it has reinforced the need to prioritise.

Being brought up to date every hour by TV radio and all forms of media with the ongoing state of the world as it faces its biggest challenge since World war 2, does wonders for concentrating the mind on what is truly important.

Everyday necessities in our 1st world lives suddenly become luxuries which we can perfectly easily manage without.

We learn every day how the desperate needs of those in deadly peril are not being met, sometimes because of our own greedy and selfish behaviours.

So many wonderful kind generous people are giving time energy and physical help to those unable to help themselves.

The NHS, for many years spoken of  as the best in the world (though less often recently) has shown immense courage, sense of duty and a willingness to sacrifice their expertise, time energy and sadly sometimes, their lives in an effort to save as many people as they can from this latest threat .

Kind neighbours are collecting shopping for those self-isolating, strangers are giving lifts to hospital and to other people stranded or unable to take other forms of transport.

Human nature at its very best is daily making itself felt while at the same time a few (thankfully) others are flouting all the rules advice and instructions which were designed not only to   keep them safe, but to save others from their lack of common sense, or even basic humanity

We need wherever we are able to prioritise our needs while ignoring our wants and if we can do nothing physically to help one another try at least to heed the advice and not make anything more difficult for each other.

If we all pull together we will defeat this pandemic and emerge at the end of it, probably leaner, but hopefully wiser.

What is Old?

The poor picture of the balloon given me when my lovely neighbours took me out on my 80th birthday reminds me that age is just a number.

I now have a similar balloon sitting in my sitting room (how's that for alliteration)? only, this time it says Happy 85th Birthday.

How did that happen? five years gone in a flash.

Although 2015 was the year I was diagnosed with Parkinson's, I feel very little different from how I felt then.

Faced with the certainty of "house arrest" due to the current virus, I am vary grateful for the fact that we (the girls and I) were able to go out to our favourite restaurant on Sunday

It may well be the last Jolly for some time.

Small pleasures, bird-song, a good tv play, a good book are going to be the best many of us can hope for in the coming weeks and months.

Yesterday, Monday, I went shopping as I do every Monday and tomorrow Wednesday, I will do so again, as I do every Wednesday. After that - who knows?

For me, self-isolation will not be a pleasure, but due to the fact that I have really good friends both in the church and among my neighbours I need not fear being alone and imprisoned.

Many other people may not be so lucky.

If those who are able to get about easily will help those who are not then we   will all (or nearly all of us) get through this dangerous time.

Let's all do what we are able and if that is very little at least let us pray for one another.

Despite the World Health Authority, age is really not the biggest issue here.

Yer be dragons

My two pet dragons, Ivan Llewellyn Pendragon and little Rhodri, pictured on the left reminded me this morning before I left for church, that today is St David's day.

Something I had never really thought about before is the total lack of Welsh hymns in the various hymn books we use every Sunday.

Many of the best known and still most commonly sung tunes are by the great Parry or by other Welsh composers, yet their Welshness (if there is such a word), is never celebrated.

Lots of people say "oh the Welsh can all sing" (not true by the way, but noone ever says they can write wonderful uplifting or deeply sonorous music.

Now I have to admit I have never heard my household dragons sing or caught them sitting writing hymns, but that's not to say they couldn't if they so chose.

After all, in a land so steeped in mystery and fable who can say with certainty that dragons (which abound, by the way), never stop their fire breathing in order to sing hymns to their creator?

Familiar Themes

Once again evading the arms of morpheus my over-active brain keeps running over last evening's Ashing service.

Not just the Singing of the Allegri Misereri Mei, (a marathon by anyone's standards), but the now familiar words of psalm 103 I find myself once again caught up in my old dilemma of criticising the "new" version preferred by our American rector, while running alongside them is the old, far more beautiful St James version.

Every Sunday and every special service I can hear in my head the elegant phrases of the old version and cannot help comparing those words with the abbreviated everyday language which for me robs the entire service of its appeal.

Sometimes the entire service is ruined for me by just one word.

I know the content is supposed to matter more than the language in which it is presented, but why, I cannot help but wonder, is it better to speak in everyday tongues when at the same time, singing the anthem in Latin and following the centuries old rituals with little change from the 17th Century?

Our Rector would argue that modern English (or in his case American), has a more direct appeal to today's congregations, yet the people who attend our church every week have deliberately chosen from dozens of others, a church whose traditions and rituals are steeped in High Anglican history.

This is not yet another sleepless rant, more a reflection on how little things can shape opinions  and divide otherwise peace loving people who prefer the pen to the sword.

I'm rambling and probably making no sense so will stop and resume my night's sleep ( or failure to sleep).

After all there is the whole of Lent in which to reflect (and possibly comment) on these things.

Never Underestimate the Power of the Inanimate

Ha! Did I say 'they' might leave me in peace now?

What an optimist!

Last Monday my washing machine decided to die, True it has had a very long life, true, i was aware that it was on its last legs but oh dear what a terrible noise it made before ceasing to make any noise.

My usual panic mode set in and for about half a day I did not have a clue what to do, then slowly, common sense returned.

I went to my local retail park - awful title - and threw myself on the mercy of a very kind and very well-informed lady who talked me through all the options and made several useful suggestions.

On Saturday afternoon my new machine was delivered, fitted, tried out and the old one taken away.

By then I had yet another very sore throat cough and the usual temperature so wasn't feeling wonderful

Today instead of being in church I did rwo wash loads and cleared the back log of laundry which has piled up in the past week.

The machine appears to be working perfectly, my temperature is easing off and things appear to be returning to what passes for  normal in my world.

BUT I am not loudly proclaiming the end of my problems - just in case they are listening.

Deja Vu

Never have I managed to get through the whole Christmas/New Year break without the appearance at some stage of my household demons.

This year all was going quite nicely, quiet, peaceful no obvious problems until.......sitting minding my own business  I glanced at the radiator under my front window and noticed what I thought was a spill or splash of something, couldn't imagine what, on the top right corner.

Investigation showed it to be some sort of oily brownish gunk.

Still not worried I took a couple of dettol wipes and tried to remove the mark. only to find it hardly had any affect, so scrubbing a little harder I found it appeared to be a leak.

Suddenly my holiday brain-freeze relaxed its hold and I tore upstairs to find an emergency number for British Gas with whom I have a maintenance contract.

To cut a long boring story short, an engineer was with me in an hour and told me I needed to  have the radiator replaced.

It appears that I am covered for this so all was easier than I dreamed it could be and they are coming on Monday to carry out the work.

I am still somewhat worried about the possibility of the leak suddenly getting much worse before then but at least the demon/gremlin has been packed off to gibber in a corner (probably till next Christmas).

Happy 2020

A brief good wish for anyone who happens on this blog.   May your 2020 be better by far than your 2019,

Health happiness and peace, in fact, what we would all like ouir lives to be.

The world appears to be in a state of chaos but still there is hope, small signs of a change in attitudes behaviours and manners.

Despite the worst efforts of the world's politicians the voice of reason can still be (faintly) heard.

Though not in this Close tonight where loud thumping music and crashing fireworks are still deafening us all even at this hour.

Why can't New Year be given a silent welcome?

Oh well, I can dream I suppose.

A Happy healthy New Year to one and all.