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.