Keeping occupied

Apart from a walk which took me into town and back in the afternoon, I spent much of my spare time during the day scanning and editing photos. The negatives scan OK but many are over-exposed due to scanner default settings I haven't figured out how to change. However, I still use the last iteration of the Picasa 3 desktop app, and with a little tinkering I have learned something new about how to remedy the over-exposure issue and get good results. On the old Vista PC is a basic edition of Adobe Photoshop which still runs perfectly. It's been very useful in those situations where I have scanned a negative from the wrong side, and needed to flip the digital file to its mirror image.

Another film roll was of photos taken on a hike around Lac de Vallon in the Commune de Bellevaux, while the snow and ice were melting in April of the same year. The lake only dates from 1943 when an avalanche blocked the Torrent du Vallon flowing down the steep valley above. There was no social or economic reason to un-block it so the lake remains and the river flows out from underground down the valley. It's a bit out of the way, but I think we went there because I was interested in visiting a chapel above the lake dedicated in 1651, to honour St Bruno, 11th century founder of the Carthusian Order order of hermits. 

These solitary monks preferred to settle in remote places like alpine forests. Whether the chapel was ever a hermitage or served a group of solitaries in a place more than a day's walk from their main monastery isn't possible to say, but this dedication to St Bruno may have something to do with the positive influence of hermits on the lives of poor peasants who lived in the forest and looked after its trees and animals.

Still no news from UHW of an appointment, so I rang the surgeon's secretary, and left a message on her answering machine. It's worrying, but I guess that a blitz on scanning old film negatives will help keep me occupied some of the time.
  
  

Pilgrim memories

I attended the Eucharist at St John's this morning, and after lunch walked around the park, enjoying the presence of many birds out feeding while I was passing with my camera at the ready. Redstarts, long tailed tits, a solitary cormorant in breeding plumage perched on a rock in the river Taff, and a jay that fed on the ground for a couple of minutes as I approached, though I wasn't quick enough to get a shot of it as it moved around. It's just lovely to see.

Then in the evening I continued scanning more old negatives from the year 2000, fascinated to learn where they had been taken. Today's batch was a roll of film taken in Haute Savioe in May 2000. One was of the annual pilgrimage by Holy Trinity Geneva to the Voirons massif where a community of about fifty Carthusian Sisters live work and pray at 1,700m on a ridge with a stunning view of the Mont Blanc range.

In the forest that's part of their domain, looking north towards Lac Leman and the Jura, is a chapel of 14th century origins with an adjacent accommodation building for workers. Each year on Ascension Day, the chaplaincy gathered there to celebrate the Eucharist, using its huge boulder-like ancient altar stone. The chapel is dedicated to Notre Dame des Voirons, and it may have been a local pilgrimage sanctuary many centuries ago. It was a wonderful and numinous occasion, even if it was in shadow and chilly there. Sometimes it snowed while we were there. The photos I took were of our group of two dozen arriving and being welcomed by the Sister guest-mistress. I wonder where the youngsters in the photos are now? Some of the older people are still alive, others of them I laid to rest or have died since.

Another first rate episode of New Amsterdam tonight. It did prompt me to wonder how long it will be before I get my appointment letter from UHW.
  

Perennial scanner

At Fr Phelim's request, I drove over to St German's this morning to celebrate the term time 'Class Mass' with two dozen children from Tredegarville School. It's still an enjoyable experience for me, working with Junior School kids, so I'm always pleased if I'm asked to stand in for him. It was good to catch up with the regulars over a coffee at the day centre afterwards. Apparently the winter night shelter in the hall has been successfully run for a second year with a big group of volunteers, not all of them church people, helping to accommodate and feed fifteen rough sleepers regularly.

After lunch I took my second funeral of the week, this time at St Luke's. The eulogy was given by a niece of the deceased and a daughter in law read a lesson. I don't recall taking a funeral there before, so I had to figure out beforehand where to place myself in relation to the congregation and the coffin. It's a big church with a central altar. Fortunately everyone in a congregation of fifty sat in the same central block of seats, so I conducted the service from behind the altar, as the lectern was too far back.

In the evening there was nothing on telly, so I got out my film scanner, as I have a bag full of wallets containing film negatives, and picked out one at random from 2000, just before I bought my first digital camera, when I was working in Monaco. The scanner won't work with any PC save my 2009 Windows Vista desktop machine. This still boots up, although its CMOS battery is kaput and there's no point in going on line because none of the browsers are fit for purpose. But it still runs the scan software, Adobe Photoshop and MS Office perfectly and with an acceptable turn of speed once it's settled down. An always online Windows device isn't always what you need to get jobs done. I will run it until it dies, and then look for a replacement of similar vintage to plug the gap.

Anyway I now have a set of seventy plus photos from the time when we first settled in Monte Carlo,  and of our top floor apartment in rue Montbrillant Geneva, close to the Place des Nations. There may be more to find and scan eventually.

  

Job done at last

I woke up early after retiring late last night, so I woke up tired. After breakfast, rather fearful of making mistakes and having to re-print and re-fill the dreaded Spanish police check application form, I steeled myself and got to work.

It took me two hours to fill in, and much longer over the past fortnight to figure out exactly what I needed to do correctly. Legalese in a foreign culture is just as hard to decode if you're not an insider, no matter what the language. In the end I had to ring the diocesan administrator and quiz her about a few outstanding points, but once reassured, I was able to complete the job.

By midday, I'd taken it to the Post Office and sent it off recorded delivery. A thin A4 envelope, it cost me eight pounds to send, which astonished me. It's now a matter of waiting for a reply. I wonder if I'll get an operation date before my CRB certificate arrives from Spain? Admittedly I should hear about the former this week, but you never know with the NHS.

Late afternoon, I walked with Clare to the coach station where she bought herself a new coach card and booked a ticket to Heathrow for when she takes a flight to Phoenix to visit Rachel and Jasmine in two weeks time. After a few days of relatively mild weather a chill wind blew over Pontcanna Fields. I was feeling sluggish and tired, not having had enough sleep last night, and it made walking at a brisk pace an effort. Clare walked the mile and a quarter to the coach station a lot faster than I in an effort to get warm, and arrived there a couple of minutes ahead of me. 

I watched the conclusion of this week's 'Silent Witness' episode, started last night. It was very good in portraying the dilemmas of a busy forensic scientist daughter accompanying her dying mother with Alzheimer's disease, as one of the narrative threads running alongside a complex case. Beautifully acted by Liz Carr.

    

Passport delivered

With no locum duties yesterday, I went to the Parish Eucharist at St Catherine's with Clare. After lunch, a dozy afternoon, rather missing out on the bright sunshine and clear skies. I walked late in the park, as the sun was going down. I got a few beautiful sunset pictures.

This morning my new passport arrived by courier post while I was visiting the city centre Santander Bank branch, to organise the fee payment for my necessary Spanish police check. An IBAN payment to the Spanish Ministry of the Interior for €3.78 was required for this, a little tricky for the bank clerk to execute, but I came away with a couple of official receipts to send with the application. Best of all, the £15 or £30 charge for the service, due to be abolished in April, was waived by the bank! 

It's only ten days since I applied on-line, a third of the time it took to process a paper application a decade ago. A very impressive improvement. I feel very sad however, that the passport no longer says 'European Community' across the top. But at least I have a burgundy coloured one as the proposed dark blue replacement covers aren't yet in use. It least, it'll be possible not to stand out in a Euro border queue. 

All I have to do now is fill in the application form and get it in the post. It'll have to wait until tomorrow when I'm fresh. I don't relish having to fill in a form by hand. Writing small to fill in little boxes is something I now find difficult. Even with reading glasses on it's an effort. I would prefer to fill in a form digitally but on-line wasn't an option, and the form is a .pdf. 

You need Adobe Acrobat to edit a pdf, which I don't have. It's not free software. There are lots of on-line apps for doing this, claiming to be free, but they aren't. Either they deliver a watermarked copy and you have to pay for a clean one, or you have to 'subscribe' and have your email address spammed. It's easy to make a .pdf format file, but there doesn't seem to be a genuinely free means of editing them.

A new ministry begun

Another wet day yesterday, although it did clear up in the afternoon so that I could walk to the other end of the parish for a bereavement visit for another funeral I have to take next week. Apart from that, it was a matter of routine tasks and a couple of hours novel writing in the evening,

This morning, I took the bus to the top end of Llandaff North and walked from there to Whitchurch Rectory to rendezvous with Peter Sedgwick and John Davies the Rector, to drive to Leominster for the licensing and induction of Rufus Noy as Team Vicar and Pioneer Minister at the Priory church. It's an hour and three quarter journey, the second half on winding country roads. Sadly, the weather was overcast and misty, so we didn't get to enjoy the sheer beauty of the countryside. We arrived at a quarter to one and had lunch in a town centre cafe before making our way to the church.

The last time I visited here was on a St John's Parish pilgrimage in 2009. I joined the robed clergy in choir, as requested. There were about twenty clergy altogether with the Bishop and Archdeacon. I was annoyed with myself for forgetting my clerical scarf in the rush to leave the house on time to get the bus. I was the only one without. I wear surplice and scarf so rarely, it's no longer habitual. Did I feel self conscious because I looked different? Or self conscious because I rarely join in with a group of clergy in any service since I retired, preferring to sit in the congregation instead. 

Anyway, it was good to be there to support Rufus. He had a tough time ministering in Monmouth diocese. Once he finished his curacy, he was given responsibility for setting up a new Ministry area which was deficient by design and poorly resourced. There was nothing beyond his competence and ability in what he was ordered to do. It was unrealistic from the outset and the quality of support he received leaves much to be desired. Today, Cherry Vann is being consecrated as the new Bishop of Monmouth. She's going to have a lot of troubleshooting to do, when she starts work in earnest.

We drove home in fog and mist, but made good time, and Fr John dropped me off at home just after half past five. I watched the last double episode of 'Wisting' in the evening. The conclusion was somewhat predictable, but nicely done. I guess there must be a second series in the pipeline.

Assessment time

Up nice and early this morning, in time to walk to UHW for the long awaited pre-op assessment. The walk took forty eight minutes, ten longer than I thought, but I arrived exactly on time. Along with the opening sections of the assessment dossier I was asked to fill in with personal details, I was asked to complete a form about alcohol drinking habits. It started with a questionnaire which asked how much I drink a day and how many days in the week. It asked me to score myself, except the scoring device was badly designed and made no sense. The second part of the questionnaire was all about the impact of regular alcohol drinking on my behaviour, listing half a dozen forms of dysfunctional behaviour, with responses varying in frequency from 'never' to often. The bottom line of the form proposed that if the answers were anything other than 'never' you should consider seeking help, and offered a phone number to call. It gave the impression of being a student project, not quite thought through enough. 

I still have issues with the vague concept of 'glasses' used in medical educational literature, as it's so ill defined. One beer may be double the strength of another, one beer glass may be half the size of another, or nearly twice the size. Likewise wine glasses. One bottle of wine may be consumed in five small glasses or three large ones. Wine might be eight per cent ABV or fourteen. Fortified wines, liqueurs and spirits are dispensed in standard measures, except perhaps at home, but glasses smaller than a small wine glass tend to be used. One kind of strong drink may contain three times as much alcohol as another, so the amount of alcohol consumed in each case varies widely. I've seen posters which try to spell things out a little, but the quality of information isn't as good as it needs to be in today's data savvy world. We're still a long way off from health advice deterring over-consumption, or dishonesty about what is actually consumed over a period of time.

Anyway, a male nurse interviewed me this time around, which was a change to routine. He had to call in a colleague to take blood however, having tried three times unsuccessfully to do so. He thought there was nothing to cause concern to an anaesthetist and delay receiving an operation date. It remains to be seen how long it takes to be informed.

On the walk back, I went into the pharmacy in the Tesco Extra superstore to get my prescription medications for the next quarter. The prescription informed me that I needed to book a medication review, so I did that as soon as I got home. This batch will see me through until I return from Ibiza, so that's another thing done on my check list. The pressing concern is getting the Spanish Police check done. The diocesan administrator has been helpful in enabling me to make correct sense of the form, but there are still unanswered questions. Thankfully, my lawyer friend Bill of the Costa del Sol West chaplaincy has offered me some practical help in getting this done, if I'm unable to do it on-line.

In the avenue of trees by the riding stable, I was delighted to see the first daffodils in bloom, also some patches of snowdrops, and patch of crocuses. The weather has reverted to being overcast today so the light wasn't wonderful. I failed to get good pictures of them with my Blackberry, so after lunch  returned with a camera and get the photos I wanted.

Farewell to an old friend

It's been overcast and damp all day today, sombre to suit the mood. This morning I had a funeral at Pidgeon's Chapel of Rest at then, and then on to the Vale Crematorium. Afterwards I was driven by Huw to St Mary's the Docks, as we used to call it, to attend Fr Graham Francis' funeral. I'd requested this drop off instead of going home as time between them wouldn't have allowed me to go home and then go to St Mary's in time. It turned out that Huw also wanted to attend, being one of the multitudes of people Graham made friends with over his lifetime.

We arrived twenty five minutes early and all the seats were taken already, By the time the Funeral Mas began with the Angelus there were about five people in church, with about a hundred of them clergy, half of them robed, and the rest in the congregation. I stood at the back of the church with about thirty others. Although I had robes with me from the previous funeral I felt that I just wanted to be one the receiving end rather than the presiding side of the altar rail. Graham and I were together in St Mikes fifty two years ago. We worked overnight shifts together as Samaritans volunteers, let out of college on an informal pastoral placement by the Principal O G Rees. I was deacon at his first Mass. His wife Eleri is Kath's godmother, so more life family than a professional acquaintance. in times liky this I am grateful if I don't have to give out but can just receive.

The service was beautifully organised in  way he would have approved of. It's likely he vetted the texts and made sure with his advance preparations that every detail as carefully thought through. He was that kind of person, and what a difference it made. Included were a couple of hymns I'd choose for my own funeral, one by Charles Wesley the other  by St John Henry Newman. We started with the Angelus and ended as his coffin was being loaded into the hearse with the Salve Regina. 

Fr Dean Atkins, a lifelong friend and disciple of his gave a truly remarkable homily which was both a eulogy full of joy and laughter, which combined beautifully reflections on the Mystery of the Visitation of Mary to Elizabeth with references to Penrhys and Walsingham pilgrimages, and pastoral life in the Valleys. Bishop Philip North presided, who has known Graham for years. Traditional Catholic liturgy at its very best, something he cared deeply about and encouraged others to do as well as he did.

There was a wake in the Bute Town community centre afterwards, but I had no energy to spend on an hour socialising over sandwiches, so Clare and I walked up to John Lewis' and had lunch there before returning home, pondering the loss of a friend since the beginning of time in ministry. Apart from Martin, there are few others with whom we go back so far. May he rest in peace.

  

Bright St Agnes day

A couple of clear bright sunny days to start the week, perfect for walking, whether going out to do the weekly shopping, or enjoying the parks. Fr Rhys came on Monday evening to certify my passport photocopy ready for the Spanish police check application. I downloaded the Form 790 from the web, but found it worryingly different from a UK equivalent because of its legal terminology and structure that I'm not sure I'd be able to fill it in correctly to obtain a result. I think I need help with this.

St Agnes' day today, a fiesta with happy memories from my days working in St. Paul's Bristol, as Vicar of St Agnes Parish Church. It's the only one of the four parish churches in the area still open and active today, very much adapted to different circumstances in the forty years since I moved on.

This morning I did an hour long CofE on-line safeguarding training module, part of what diocese in Europe requires for renewing my PTO. It reminded me to enquire of the Bishop's Chaplain about the same for the diocese of Llandaff. It seems there are several in the pipeline. I hope they happen before I go away or after my return.

This afternoon, I was out just at the right time to catch a family of six red-wings out foraging in the avenue near the riding school, in exactly the same location where I saw them several years ago. Several families of long tail tits, plus a couple of coal tits were in the branches of the avenue of trees leading down to the Taff. There was a solitary missel thrush out in the middle of the football pitch to the north of the path, again where I've seen one several times before. 

The most wonderful sight was, however, several hundred starlings feeding closely together in the same area of grass in the middle of the same pitch. There were dog walkers circulating around the edge of the field, and every now and then the movement or sound of the dogs caused all the birds to rise into the air, travel a short distance and then settle again to feed in another densely packed area of grass. Once or twice, when the alignment of the flock was right, I heard the brief low hum of all those wings, a hundred and fifty years away. Exquisite!

Church in Wales Centenary start

As it was a bright clear day today, my sister June's birthday, so I called her to sing her Happy Birthday and we chatted for half an hour. I wish I could go up and see her for the day, but the logistics are still a bit tricky. An overnight stop would make a visit easier, whatever my mode of transport, as a very early start travelling is fraught with practical difficulties  until I get the next op out of the way..

Clare and I walked along the Taff Trail to Llandaff North and had lunch in a cafe there, offering a nice selection of dishes. Thanks to a mild winter, families of long tailed tits could be seen and heard foraging on the bare branches of trees in places I haven't seen before. The number of them I've seen in the avenue of trees approaching Blackweir Bridge is greater than last year. We also saw and heard a couple of coal tits at close range as well. It helps that our parks and open spaces are managed in a way that encourages birds and wildlife these days. The environment doesn't look as neat and tidy with fallen trees made safe and large portions of trunks or big branches left to rot, but this naturally increases insect population and is good for other creatures that feed on them. There are more and more daffodil shoots growing tall enough to produce heads and it won't be long before they burst into flower, some species a month earlier than usual.

When we got back, I had a sermon to finish, and some more novel writing to do before watching this week's double episode of 'Wisting'. Unlike other Scandi-noir series it seems to be ten episodes. I think that's two too many. The pace of the story has slowed down but to no good efffect. It's not exactly agonising suspense.

This morning I celebrated and preached at St Catherine's, the first time for several months. Twenty seven Sunday School children came up for a blessing with their parents at the Communion. Since Epiphanytide started there have been seasonal liturgical changes, in line with the alternatives that the Church in Wales Liturgical Commission provide. Nothing unusual, except that I hadn't been warned of this until I got to church. Not even Clare remarked on the change, now in its third week.

Since last weekend's diocesan centennial inaugural service in the Cathedral, each church has its own 'Pilgrimage Candle' to burn, as the centenary theme is 'Pilgrimage'. There was a little blessing and lighting ceremony to insert into the service at the start. Fr Rhys came over from St John's to brief me about this beforehand thankfully. The presiding minister's lectern hadn't been re-organised from last week, and didn't contain all the texts I needed for this week's service. This wasn't immediately obvious when I got started, so I had to shuffle papers as I went along.

It's not unusual to have to do this as a visiting locum priest, if a church is a bit disorganised about these things. It's fine if there's a conscientious lay person whose habitual duty is to pay attention to detail and arrange things for a priest. Far too often, however, the incumbent does it for themselves, and if they aren't present nobody else bothers to attend to things which make things easy for a visiting cleric. It used to be so much easier when there was no more than two books to use - one for the Liturgy of the Word and another for everything else.

The Preface to the three English books of Common Prayer explains the rationale behind liturgical reform, not just in terms of the need for vernacular worship and simplicity of structure, but also in the usage of just Bible and Prayer Book instead of the plethora of complex liturgical text books in use at the time, which needed a separate user instruction book to ensure all is done correctly. It seem to me that we Anglicans have stepped back in that direction. The variety and beauty of many of the available prayers and liturgies is to be appreciated. I'm not so sure about a complexity which makes the whole liturgical offering of the church less accessible to every man than it has been for the past five hundred years.

The old travel order changeth

Yesterday I walked to St John's and celebrated the Eucharist, then returned home cooked lunch and went for an afternoon walk as usual. In the past week, despite present uncertainty about an operation date, I've been thinking about my next euro locum duty. A number of things need to be changed due to brexit, as well as the Euro diocesan PTO to be renewed. An International Driving Permit will be necessary in Spain. There are few chaplaincies where car driving isn't essential to the job.

An on-line check today revealed I could get an IDP at our local Post Office in Canton. Also checking on-line I found that although my passport expires on 23rd of September this year, post-brexit, I can only use it until 23rd March. So I have to apply for a new one before I go away next, robbed of five percent of the life of my burgundy coloured EU passport. It's not fair!

I added more to my novel in the evening and watched this weeks episode of New Amsterdam. Again excellent to watch. It's very insightful and hardly ever disappoints.

I've been having conversations with church people in Ibiza about locum duties there from early March until Easter, maybe until the end of April. It's an island where the chaplaincy house and two main worship centres are some distance apart from each other, so public transport won't do. Hence the need to get travel things in order early. Journey planning is going to be a challenge as there's a dearth of direct low season flights. The most likely option is to land in Barcelona and then a ferry overnight ferry. The same would also be possible from Malaga. Valencia is the nearest, but flights are hard to find. All flights seem to involve losing another night's sleep to get to an airport early enough. Train to Bercelona would be nice, but lengthy, and via London. It will take some working out.

We're hoping to take another river cruise in the spring too, if we can get a suitable booking this late. As the final op is most likely to be early February, I should have enough time for the wound to heal before going abroad. Frustratingly the hospital still won't give me a surgery date until after my pre-op fitness check next Thursday. So nothing can be fixed yet, but I must get on with preparations in any case, trusting this is going to happen.

Today, I had two bereavement visits either side of lunch time, both with families which preferred not to meet me at their homes. I arranged to see them at the Park View cafe, next to St Luke's, which was convenient for everyone, and went home to lunch after the first. ON the way back for the second I stopped at the Post Office and thankfully there was no queue. Ten minutes later for the sum of five pounds fifty, I had the first IDP I've needed in forty years of European driving. 

As I was in the post office, I decided to get some passport photos and battled with the clunky user unfriendly photo booth. You have to take off your specs for the pictures, but align your head with an on screen grid that correctly positions you for a picture that will be amenable to face recognition software. The grid is yellow, against a coloured preview image on the device screen, and you need to take your specs off to see if you're properly aligned, thereby defeating the object. Clever but not quite clever enough. It offered me a digital photo option. Why, I didn't understand until I looked at the new Government website digital passport application process. The digital photo option is a code which can be entered in the application and this is a link that transfers the image file across to the .gov.uk server. Clever. I hope the device is secure, un-hackable.

I've read nothing about the on-line passport application service. It's still in 'beta'. It's brilliantly simple if you're re-applying. Apart from the short stay British Visitors Passports we used in the years before I was ordained, this is my sixth passport re-application. I had to scan my passport photos and upload one. It took me three goes as my images were undersized. Advice about image upload file size didn't appear early enough in the application process. It's my only criticism of a superb piece of web design. All I have to do now is post my burgundy passport to the Passport Office to have its corner clipped. No sooner than I received an acknowledgement for the digital submission, I had a reminder email nag to send it off. It won't get there before Tuesday.

Better safe

Monday and Tuesday, annoying it rained most of the day, making routine tasks, shopping and laundry harder to complete. It didn't stop my daily walks however, and much of my time at home was spent researching journey detail for my novel writing. I've now been asked to do two funerals in the coming fortnight. It's six weeks since I did the last one.

I saw a high spec second hand laptop at a recent price in the window of the Tourotech computer shop, and wondered about buying it. I have some older pieces of kit that I keep as spares but rarely have to use. In fact they aren't particularly nice to use for any extended length of time. I think they are ready for recycling. I checked, and Tourotech will do that for me. I have and regularly use quite an old Acer laptop, running Linux off a solid state drive. It's not wonderful for photo processing, but I can boot it into Libre Office with a file open for work in less than a minute. The same process on my Windows 10 workstation takes four to eight times as long, and that's not a slow machine. It's just that Windows punishes users refusing to keep devices permanently running and on-line. If Microsoft ignores this not insignificant user group it can expect to lose them to Linux, Mac or Android.

Anyway, I rehearsed the possibility of part exchanging the Acer for the device I fancied, concluding that it would need to have Windows running on it again. I found the spare Windows hard drive from Clare's laptop, now happily working with Linux Mint, and put it into the Acer to find out if it would work. As it had an intact rescue partition on it, this proved no problem, except that this called for the reformatting of the main partition and re-installation of Windows. This process took seven hours without attaching my One Drive account to it and letting it sync! Probably another couple of hours. If ever I install Linux on any device, it takes an hour, plus update time, although this happens in the background and doesn't stop one using it to work on.

The worst thing about doing this was that when I replaced the solid state drive with the Windows one I forgot to make an up to date file copy of my novel. Figuring out how to extract one from the Linux file system seemed too much of an effort so I had to guess where I had finished off the night before and write some more to another file to copy and paste. It's not often I fail to make multiple copies of a vital file when finishing for the day, but on this occasion I did, and was sorry for this lapse. Next day I put the solid state drive back into the Acer and continued working on it. I had second thoughts about getting a new laptop. The Acer keyboard is better than ones on the other old machines I want to get rid of and from a writers point of view it's as fast as it needs to be.

It's been a bright and sunny all day today, such a relief. In this morning's mail, the application forms for my Llandaff diocesan safeguarding check arrived. My Permission to Officiate which depends on passing this runs out at the end of March. After lunch I walked up to Llys Esgob to see Bishop's chaplain Sarah Rogers, one of several senior staff whose job description has recently had added to it the task of verifying identity documents for PTO applicants, a new requirement of the procedure. 

Five years ago, it was just a matter of sending identity documents to the Provincial Safeguarding Officer to be checked. Now each applicant has to be seen in person. As if the senior staff members didn't already have enough work to do! At least the end of producing passport, driving license and a document with my National Insurance Number on it for good measure, was that Sarah was able to put the completed application into her evening mailbag for sending. 

It's all a necessary formality, and as Sarah and I have known each other for eighteen years, there's no chance of anyone impersonating me, but it may not be the case for someone who's a newcomer, known by name but not by face in the diocese. In our contemporary world where credible identity theft is not unusual, an element of risk exists of abuse attached to any impersonal bureaucratic process. Trust in others has been replaced by evidence leading to proof that someone is trustworthy. 

This is not the same. It displaces the element of personal relatedness which makes us who we are. It can detract from our human dignity and sense of worth. In times past, we earned trustworthiness and respect through right and proper relationships with those we served without having to prove anything. Sure, things could go wrong, they can and still do, even for those whose identity credentials and police checks are impeccable but are cunning enough for their deceit and transgressons not to be found out, or because they deceived friends in high places into refusing to act on hearing concerns about their behaviour. Safeguarding checks are entirely necessary, but it's still possible for someone to have a clean record and yet still be abusive and a manipulator of others, and get away with it. It's a reality of life, yet thankfully today we are more vigilant than ever in history due to higher standards and values applying to the care and respect all people deserve, no matter who they are. The required change in disciple just takes some getting used to.

Epiphany confusion

Yesterday I had a sermon to write, and documents to prepare with photocopies of my passport and driving license, which can be verified as copies by an office holder's signature, GPs and clerics do this. I have often done it for others, but this time I must get someone to do it for me. Fr Rhys has agreed to. He's a GP and a cleric! The point of the exercise is to have an identity document to send to the Spanish police database to secure an official certificate stating that I have no criminal convictions in Spain. This is necessary to renew my European Permission to Officiate. 

It's a fiddly task which has to be perfectly correct to succeed, and that makes me nervous, even though I know there's nothing to worry about, as there's nothing to find. The trouble is, I don't trust anybody's big information systems, as none of them can be absolutely error free. It's one of the obstacles of modern life that has to be lived with.

My afternoon walk took me past Tesco Extra on Western Avenue. The stretch of woodland behind the store a few years ago hosted a huge flock of starlings, which came to roost there at sunset. These have been supplanted by a huge flock of crows. I have never seen so many in one place, hundreds of them. Alarm calls from birds overhead caught my attention. I looked up and saw several crows attacking a couple of starlings, driving them away from the roost which used to be theirs. People can behave like that too, if they think they have the numbers or strength. We're no better.

I spent several hours writing my novel until late, taking time off just to watch this week's double episode of 'Wisting' on BBC Four. Although this is the first time it's been screened in the UK, the plot has an air of déja-vu about it. It's worth watching for its backdrop of Norwegian winter landscape, but part of the entertainment is predicting twists in the story-line.

I was thankful for a later start this morning celebrating the Eucharist of the Baptism of Christ at St Paul's Grangetown at ten thirty this morning. There was a certain confusion about whether Epiphany ended last Sunday or ends today and Ordinary Time (changing to green liturgical décor) begins. I regret that lectionary revision fifty years ago didn't keep the rest of January as time 'after Epiphany', up until Candlemass. Just because the Roman Catholic church does Ordinary Time is no justification for everyone else to do it.

Clare had her monthly afternoon study group so we had an early lunch. This meant I could get out for longer walk and went up the Taff Trail to the top end of Hailey Park in Llandaff North and back, six miles in two hours. It's great to be able to do that and still have energy to spend hours writing.

We watched this evening's  the second episode of 'Doctor Who'. The goobledgook sci-fi content is barely intelligible let alone credible, but it was good to see Sir Lennie Henry again, playing a baddie whose tech genius dominates and controls the internet using 'big data' harvested from people's personal web accounts. He had some rather good lines, much closer to contemporary truth than any of the sci-fi. Then, more novel writing until late. I've gained a good deal of plot momentum this weekend, but the end is not quite in sight yet.

Eclipse time

Yesterday, I had to stay in and miss going to St John's for the Eucharist so that a handyman could take a look at our oven door and see if the problem we have is fixable. It turns out a roller catch that keeps the door closed is broken, and needs replacement. It's easy enough to order on-line, but installing it is tricky as it involves dismantling the front of the oven first. It's no longer the kind of thing I can tackle as my rheumaticky hands don't function with enough sensitivity to hold on to small things or turn tight screws any longer. I understand well the meaning of the phrase at the end of Psalm 137 where in one translation the poet says "If I forget you O Jerusalem, may my right hand lose its skill." 

On my afternoon walk in the park today, I saw for the first time in a couple of years a family of long tailed tits foraging on the bare branches of the avenue of trees leading down to Blackweir Bridge. I only got one photo worth keeping. The little things move so fast. In Bute Park, I saw a Jay foraging on a tree trunk way above me, and got several photos, the best of this bird I've ever got. I noticed that the daffodil shoots which first appeared after Christmas are acquiring heads, and may flower before the end of this month, a lot earlier than normal in such a mild winter. It's been 8-10 degree for weeks except for the occasional day near freezing. 

Almost at the end of my walk I met briefly with Ashley and Julie at Riverside surgery where he was collecting medication. RadioNet business has altogether ceased now and winding up the company formally has started, thankfully without debts. All that remains is to complete the clearance of the office prior to surrender and dispose of radio assets, then by the end of next month it will be all over,  apart from submitting closing accounts, almost eleven years since the service first launched. I believe we served the city centre very well indeed in that time, but our best efforts were eclipsed by self interested political gamesmanship, rather than by a genuine concern to maintain highest standards of service. Nobody will thank us for what we achieved so consistently for so long. Amnesia is rampant the business world, which is why so few lessons are learned when mistakes are made or con-tricks succeed.

Walking home from our meeting, I saw the January Full Moon, aka Wolf Moon above the rooftops in a cloudless sky. A wonderful sight. There's an eclipse of the moon tonight, a special moment in the lunar year, when sun earth and moon are in perfect alignment and the moon is swallowed by the earth's shadow. Unfortunately there's a veil of clouds tonight, so the visual effect of the dimming of the moon's light by the earth's shadow won't be obvious. Stymied again by the weather.

I sent my euro PTO application by email this afternoon. Next I must obtain the Spanish police check certificate to add to the process. My Llandaff PTO on CRB check runs out in April, so I have asked to be sent application form for this one as well, rather than wait to receive a notification. Next thing after that will be a passport application. Not that I want a new blue post brexit one, but mine runs out in September this year, and the chances are that I'll be away as the expiry date approaches, making things that much more fraught if there are delays, which seems inevitable with such a major change in view. And there's the International Driving Permit to obtain also. Sad and sorry things in my life.

Getting ready for whatever's next

A succession of late nights writing this past few days, feeding my story telling with new ideas, as I am now working on extensive dialogue that must be part of the narrative. A new challenge. 

We've had a succession of rainy days this week, a nuisance when there's shopping to do, and deciding when to get out and exercise. I finally started working on my application for a diocese in Europe Permission to Officiate. The email notification arrived in mid December, and it's taken until now for me to to get around to dealing with it. 

As I've done such a lot of locum duty in Spain and at four different places, the regulations require that I request a Spanish police record check, even though I wasn't there long enough to need to register as a resident in any of them. There's an on-line process, and I have to submit verified identity documents so that the Spanish national database can be scoured to reveal any crimes I may have committed. My conscience is clear. Only once in five years was I ever asked to show my driving license in a roadside check, and that was because I was driving cautiously on a darkened road I was unfamiliar with. No traffic offence committed! Getting all the required documents together and making sure they are accurate is a detailed task that demands effort and patience. But it has to be done.

In conversation with the diocesan administrator handling the process, I was asked if I was willing to a month's locum in March. Naturally, I said yes. I expect my last round of surgery in early February but not even a provisional date has been offered by the surgical team. I have a pre-op assessment in two weeks, and if all is well, I'll be told then. I haven't failed a pre-op assessment before but that doesn't matter as the process is so inflexible. This prevents me from planning. It's unfair. I appealed to the troubleshooter who's aware of my case and she has asked Mrs Cornish's secretary to flag this up as a priority item. That's as much as I can do, and hope for the best. Once the op is done, I don't anticipate more than a day's recovery, as happened previously. I'm confident that I'll be able to manage the final healing stage, after the past twelve months of living with it. I just want to get on with living normally and ministering abroad.

My daily average walk has increased from from five to seven miles without any goal setting or New Year's resolution. Despite complaining feet, my stamina is gradually improving, although conscious when out among walkers in the park that I'm noticeably slower than younger walkers. I wonder if my pace will ever improve as my endurance seems to these days.

I went to the Eucharist at St Catherine's this morning. Mother Frances has asked me to cover four weekday celebrations in February, and to celebrate and preach at St Catherine's the week after next. 

Epiphany Sunday

I celebrated an Epiphany Eucharist at St Dyfrig and St Samson's at nine this morning, then again at ten thirty at St Paul's Grangetown. I had forgotten that the latter on a first Sunday has children from the Sunday school attending the service, and had to ad lib a suitable sermon. As it was the second of the day, this came much easier than feared, and enjoyed the interaction. Actually the adults are as responsive when questions are asked, as the kids.

The weather was good enough for a nice long walk after lunch, nearly nine miles, as far as Llandaff North bridge and back. Then, a long session of editing and writing this short story turning into a full length novel. My wound hasn't gone away, but it's far less tender now so I can sit for several hours to write without my concentration being ruined by discomfort. The trouble is, I continue past bed time and end up losing half the morning in recovery. Going with the flow has consequences unfortunately.

An old friend's passing

I had an email this morning from the Bishop's Chaplain announcing the death of Fr Graham Francis, a good friend and colleague since we were at St Mike's together over fifty years ago. He's lived with an inoperable stomach cancer for several years, continuing with life as best he could with his strength and mobility slowly waning away, without giving up on performing any priestly activity he remained capable of. We were together con-celebrating the Sung Mass at St Saviour's a month ago. I wondered then if it would be the last occasion. Even so, Eleri and I agreed that we'd meet up for coffee again as a foursome early in this New Year, but it wasn't to be. He died late yesterday night

He was admitted to Holm Towers on New Year's Eve, and visited there by family and colleagues. Two priests he worked with closely over many years were at his bedside, along with family members in his last hours, saying the Rosary and Litany of the Saints to send him on his way, which would be exactly how he would have wanted things to be. As the commendatio animae was recited he slipped quietly away.

It was a good, peaceful Catholic death for a priest and pastor who adhered to traditionalist spirituality and convictions without compromise. He believed he could remain an Anglican Catholic as long as the integrity of traditional and liberal modern thinking were respected in the church of his birth. He was respectful of women clergy from whom he felt unable to take Communion, and gracious when working with them as colleagues. He was a committed ecumenist who practised ecumenism within the Anglican fold as well as with other denominations. Not only that, he was a mine of information about the history of church congregations old and new which existed in the city and further afield.

He will be best remembered for his encyclopaedic knowledge of every kind of liturgy, tradition and custom which has its place in the Catholic Church. He had a huge collection of liturgical books pamphlets and texts of every kind, collected since he was a teenager, a unique specialist library of material, for which, as I understand it sadly, no home has yet been found. His involvement in both liturgical revision and liturgical renewal in practice has exerted a positive widespread influence in the Church in Wales and further afield. For him tradition was a living dynamic affair, not just clinging to old fixed ways, but engaging pastorally and adapting to every social and cultural context without ever needing to compromise the truth of orthodox Christian doctrine. He understood that tradition is 'the life of the Holy Spirit in the church', and exemplified this in his ministry. He will be missed, but for those who remember how things once were, his legacy in the way sacraments are celebrated in many ordinary parishes is unmissable and lasting. May he rest in peace and rise in glory!

Clare's colleague Jacquie came to lunch today. She and Clare walked with me in the park afterwards, but left me to complete my usual longer stretch. Today I wore my new trainers, and these were fine for about the first five miles, and then the ball of my right foot began to hurt. I had to stop to rest it and stretch my ankle when I reached Blackweir bridge, and decided to walk as much of the remaining route as I could on the grass. To my surprise, after walking only a few yards, the pain disappeared and didn't return. This suggests that some of the bones in my foot are slightly out of alignment, but this only shows up when I walk over a certain distance, moving slightly awkwardly. My right leg suffers inevitably from the presence of the wound in the right side of my perineum. The knocks the whole of my body out of alignment. It's something I have to think a lot about and compensate for, including the occasional osteo-myologist visit.

Super sandals

I went to St John's for the Eucharist yesterday morning. I haven't been there for several weeks, so it was good to see people and wish them a Happy New Year.

The weather was mild enough in the afternoon for me to walk in my Ecco sandals, for the first time in a month or so. After walking into town and back, I had covered just over eight miles, and my feet gave me no trouble whatsoever, and enjoyed pushing back my distance boundaries.  Recently the last two miles have been painful and energy draining, no matter what other shoes I wore. The others all fit well, but after a while feel as if they are thin soled compared to my sandals, even when using cushion insoles. This is a puzzle.

This afternoon, I walked even further in sandals, right down to the Bay Wetland Nature Reserve, and then caught the bus back from the city centre. As I was walking down Neville Street, a women of West Indian origin approached me, and asked if I knew where a certain street was. I googled it and found out that it was close by. She'd taken a wrong turning on her way to Madhav one of Cardiff's excellent Asian supermarkets to buy vegetables not so easy to obtain at a decent price in one of the big supermarkets. We chatted as we walked down the street together. Bright eyed and sprightly, she looked about sixty and proudly told me that she was in fact ninety. She told me how proud she was of her children and grandchildren, most of who were in Britain, though some of her extended family are in the Caribbean. She hailed from Nevis. It was one of those delightful rare conversations that happened by chance, and brought extra cheer to my day.

Again today, my feet were fine. I'll have to cycle through the other pairs of shoes in the next few days to see if the problem recurs. If it doesn't, it would suggest I had a foot problem which cleared up. If it does, then I will have to track down some more resilient shoe insoles which are equal to the quality of the sandals. Clare has found out that there's a specialist shoe shop at the other end of the Parish. The answer may lie there. We'll see.

I've put in a couple of hours work each day on my novel, editing and adding to the story. I think I'm in the last quarter of the tale that's telling itself. I can see where it's going and how it will end. It's just a matter of bringing the ideas out of my head and into a text file.

I had a worried email from sister June this morning, forwarding the text of a message she received regarding the renewal of her subscription to Piriform's excellent CCleaner software. The free version is on her PC. I first put it there, and another tech guy who did some trouble shooting updated the free version and used it. Did she accidentally subscribe without realising she didn't need the Pro Version? Not so. The small print in the email she received revealed the response was directed to Cleverbridge Software, an American company which sells rubbish security and cleanup apps, associated with cold calling scammers.

She was duped into giving them access to her computer six years ago this month, due to a telephone scammer calling up and pretending to be from Microsoft warning her of a dangerous virus on her computer (switched off at the time) but then she smelled a rat, and contacted her bank to cancel the transaction, as soon as we'd spoken about it. I went up to London and did a security clean-up of her laptop a few days later, and no harm was done. It was an unpleasant lesson but valuable in terms of encouraging computer security caution. Once these crooks have an email address, sooner or later they will have another go at tricking a user into engaging with them. Thankfully Gmail has an effective spam filter and once the dodgy email has been flagged, its successors shouldn't reappear. It find it surprising that Cleverbridge Software's bad reputation doesn't lead it to be on a spam blacklist.

However, it's no offence to market poor software, especially if the owners can afford to hire lawyers to defend their interests. And there's nothing to stop a group of scamming con-men pushing unwary users towards a legit company, and using it as a shield for their nefarious activities.

Looking forward to what?

There were a dozen of us at St Catherine's for the Eucharist of the Naming and Circumcision of Jesus this morning. Mother Frances gave us a reading about the two different Greek New Testament words for 'new' - neos and kainos. The former is used to refer to something recurrent, like a new harvest, whereas the latter refers to something which hasn't happened before, like the New Testament. What will this year bring to us that is radically new and changes the way things are for the better? I wonder. 

What innovations shall we see which encourage cooperation instead of competition, and draw people together willingly to to even more to work for the common good? It's been amazing to see how food banks and homeless shelters have proliferated in response to need in the past decade, driven not by government policy, but by concerned volunteers, many of them faith motivated. On the news lately concern has been expressed about the pernicious persistence of racism in sport. 

The Labour party has been accused all too readily of failure to deal properly with anti-semitism, while little is ever said about persistent antisemitism and xenophobia among right wing politicians and their resurgent English nationalism. This is seemingly taken for granted, rather than confronted with equal vigour. Tory party political rhetoric and bluster has appealed to cultural and institutionally racist xenophobic attitudes. Anyone who appears or acts different is going to be increasingly at risk from hostile attitudes and actions towards them. The election of the new government didn't halt the antisemitic graffiti or racist chanting at football games. With the electorate conned into lurching further to the right. The genie is out of the bottle. But you can't fool all of the people all of the time. It's not a basis for hope, but change is ever possible. If only that change could be one of repentance!

I had another good long walk around the park this afternoon. My new Samsung Fit device seems to have settled down and is behaving properly in terms of storing and providing me with useful info. 

This evening the New Year's Day Concert from Vienna on telly, a favourite of mine. Now that's a city I look forward to us returning to, one of these days when the surgical ordeal is over.