Mushroom season

There were nine of us again for the Midweek Communion. We remembered Hildegard of Bingen. The coffee morning and charity shop afterwards picked up in numbers again, with the return of more regulars and a few newcomers as well. I went home promptly at the end, crossing my fingers that I hadn't missed the visit of the postman with my little parcel from Clare, but there was no sign of mail, or missed packages. 

I had the second phone in two days enquiring about the possibility of officiating at a funeral. The first was for a service on Friday, impossible because I'm scheduled to go to Malaga to represent the chaplaincy at the institution service for their new Chaplain, the Reverend Mary Ellen Dolan. The second enquiry was someone especially requesting the offices of the previous Chaplain. The family in question were unaware that he retired nearly a year ago. There's still a high degree of expectation that a priest should be asked to officiate at a funeral by many who never darken the doors of a church, but unless the family are in some way linked to the church community, it's a rather impersonal affair for which anyone available will do. It's a bit like that in urban areas of Britain where many funerals are performed by a duty roster crematorium chaplain. It may be much the same here for the Spanish.

After lunch I walked down into Fuengirola, past the Ajuntamento, to inspect the building work on the site next to the Parish church of Nuesta Señora del Carmen. Last autumn, there was a deep hole there and the beginnings of a re-enforced concrete skeleton. I'm not sure what's in the basement, maybe it's parking, but there are four storeys above ground near completion, offices and meeting rooms grouped around an internal courtyard - a new Parish social centre, it seems.

I noticed there more varieties of mushroom on sale in the shops at the moment, a sure sign that it's September. I bought some labelled 'Seta', which like hongos seems to be a term for a mushroom that isn't a champignon. I used some to cook a risotto for supper, and was well pleased with the result.

Rachel, forgetting the time difference, skyped me at one fifteen in the morning, just after I'd fallen asleep. It was lovely to see and talk with her and Jasmine, but getting back to sleep after seemed to take all night.

Finally, just before midday today, the postman arrived with my long awaited charger, so my DSLR battery was installed for a good soaking charge. It's taken eight days to get here, whereas a card for Amanda's birthday, posted on Friday arrived on Monday. Never mind. I'm just glad to have it.

My afternoon paseo took me east up the promenade as far as the beach road runs, to Carvahal, just on the outskirts of Benalmadena. Large swathes of beach are now quite empty, although most of the bars and restaurants are still functioning, their numbers of staff and clientele are greatly reduced. It's been quite pleasantly cool and cloudy this past couple of days, 17-21 degrees, with a breeze, most pleasant for a decent five mile walk. It's good to get into the routine of regular exercise again.