When good-will and persuasion fail

After breakfast Owain, Clare and I went for a brisk walk in the cool bright morning air around Pontcanna Fields before he left us for a catch-up lunch with friends in Canton. Being a Bank Holiday Monday the park was busier than usual, a last chance for a family day out, before. Children return to school tomorrow.

One of the remotest corner of the Fields was strewn with as many as fifty bottles and cans, evidence of a party last night. Several entire drinks packs had been carried out here and consumed in a spot three hundred metres from the nearest rubbish bin. It's not the first time this has happened and it's most likely to be badly brought up young people making this mess, the ones who don't wear face masks or practice social distancing. 

Passengers in three social groups returning on a holiday flight from Xante into Rhoose tested positive for coronavirus over the weekend. Complaints were made by some on the 'plane that many other passengers weren't wearing masks properly and moving around unnecessarily during the flight. It's hard on the cabin crew as they have no power to insist passengers adhere to recommended safe practice. It seems to be it's time governments introduce legal powers to enforce safety measures, and fine non-compliant passengers heavily for putting the health of others at risk. Enforcement of non smoking zones soon proved effective, so why not take action on this as well?

After a break from classes of about four months, educationalists are voicing concern about the difficulties of catching up on missed learning, which will hit to most socially disadvantaged children hardest. Arising from that is a debate about the re-scheduling exams to all more catch-up time. In schools wearing of face masks in common areas will be obligatory and students confined to studying with their cohort group. At present many are worried this isn't going to work. Everyone wants to get back to routine living, but the randomness and uncertainty surrounding covid-19 infection control makes a return to normality something of a moving target.

After cooking lunch, I had a siesta which surprisingly lasted two hours. I didn't think I was that tired but maybe a longish brisk morning walk made me tireder than usual. Clare had a message from a neighbour in the street with a surfeit of apples on their back garden tree, and an invitation to collect them. She went out quickly and returned with a couple of kilos, which are now being converted into apple chutney  

After supper I started watching 'Mamma Mia! Here I go again' on telly, but soon lost interest in it, as the plot switches between the present story and flashbacks which I couldn't follow. 

Instead, I did some work on the reflections I'm writing for the Parish Facebook page, and watched the second episode of 'Strike: Lethal White', a serialised version of a novel pseudonymously written by J K Rowling, about a private eye drawn into an investigation by government minister. Only two plot lines, and much easier to follow. Interesting to see the lead actor, an amputee is playing the part of an amputee. I'm still unsure how good this is going to turn out to be, already wondering how many episodes to expect.

Homecoming

Picnic in the woods

A clouds and bright sunshine day, with pancakes for breakfast garnished with newly made blackberry and apple jelly or puree, not to mention marmalade or chocolate sauce with mashed banana. We like to take our time over a Saturday breakfast. Then, I prepared a picnic lunch for us, sandwiches of tuna, lettuce or tomato and mayo to take out with us for a walk. We drove towards Barry but thought better of going to the coast, knowing it would be very crowded over this bank holiday weekend. We went as far as Wenvoe and on impulse turned off towards Dinas Powis, and parked outside St Andrew's Major Church.

Beyond the church, the long wooded ridge that forms the western flank of the coastal flood plain on which Cardiff grew. As we were pondering which way to climb up to the ridge, we were greeted by a man returning from his allotment to his car parked next to ours. We asked him the best way to reach the ridge. He told us about a circular route through the woods along the ridge, by the side of Dinas Powis golf course. Then he offered us a huge courgette he was carrying along with other harvested veggies to take home. I could imagine his wife seeing it and saying "Oh no, not another, what am I going to do with this?" We were delighted to accept.

We followed the narrow lane up to Ysgubor Goch farm and from there, followed a footpath across fields along the edge of the golf course until we reached the entrance to Cwm George and Casehill Woods. It's a an area managed by the Woodland Trust, and a designated SSSI because of its mix of broadleaf native trees, plus a rare hazel dormouse and some rare plants and moths. We walked for a while along the main track, used by walkers and pony trekkers, and then stopped to eat in a spot illuminated by bright sunlight streaming through the leaf canopy. It was a moment of sheer delight. Since finding the Trust website, I've learned it's possible to access the ridge from Michaelstone le Pit at the other end, closer to home. I think we'll be exploring this stretch of woodland again fairly soon. 

There wasn't much of interest to watch on telly so I spent the evening working on those written reflections I've been asked to do. Nice to get my brain working again. 

 

Unfinished business

I went to St John's for the Eucharist this morning. After the service Emma asked if I'd be willing to celebrate next Thursday. Fr Benedict will be there in support, to ensure that I get the new health and safety protocols correct. It'll be the first time since the eighth of March, my first and only Sunday in Ibiza to lead public worship. She also asked if I'd be willing to offer half a dozen written reflections for the St Catherine's Facebook page. On both counts, I was delighted to be asked.

I haven't actively sought to re-insert myself into locum duties locally since my return, being content to be in the congregation and pray, and willing to serve if  asked. In my fiftieth year of active ministry, you might think that I'd miss leading worship and preaching, but I've had no liturgical withdrawal symptoms. Perhaps the experience of being without the perpetual duty of gathering with others for sacramental worship for twenty weeks, having to rely on prayer in solitude has been an unexpected source of grace, teaching me to be less pro-active and more able to wait receptively on God.

As it's the first opportunity I've had to think ahead, I felt emboldened to ask if I could preside at the Parish Eucharist at St Catherine's the weekend of the golden jubilee of my ordination to the priesthood. Last year the congregation made a right fuss of me when I celebrated the start of my public ministry as an ordained deacon. I wasn't thinking of a big celebration for my priesting anniversary. Lots of clergy treat this as more important. I've always rebelled against this. 

I presided at Mass for the first time at the Parish Communion in St Andrew's Penyrheol, a routine Sunday gathering, serving the congregation and God (hopefully) in my new role, representing priesthood a praying community exercises. The public sees any ordained minister of religion as an ambassador of the church, without distinguishing a deacon from a priest. Bishops are recognisable, distinctive because of their historic social status. Accepting the mantle of priesthood is a gift that has meant a lot to me, because of the responsibility it confers to enable a community of worshippers to be more truly itself, with a recognised person trusted to gather, unite and hopefully inspire them in mission.

All ministries are or should be about sharing the Gospel and the teaching of Jesus, making sense of it in every way possible, to win people over to faith in God. That's the reason and purpose for which I was ordained. Mission of one kind or another has been the driving force in my life for the past fifty years, and it seems I'm still learning about its many dimensions as my life is heading towards its conclusion. Regardless of my life's work and its strivings, it'll remain as unfinished business until the end of time. 

After church I popped into Tesco's for some wine. The store's shelving layout is being totally rearranged. It's happened in the past week since I was last in there, and is still a work in progress. When I came out it was pouring with rain, and I got quite wet walking home, even though it was easing off by then. Later in the afternoon, the clouds parted and the sun came and went. It was dry long enough for me to walk in the park before supper however.

Later we watched episodes of 'Call the Midwife' together, a blockbuster series from eight years ago, set in the East End of London sixty years ago. It's drama with a feel-good factor, though not without its tragedies and sorrows. It faithfully portrays the social issues and challenges of that era in an authentic looking environment and makes good watching for people our age who remember those days.

Fair and fruitful ground

Again, I failed to get ready to leave in time for the midweek Eucharist at St Catherine's, and that was after a long night's sleep too. I don't lack energy once I get going, I seem to have slowed down a lot lately. It may be the impact of the medication, or it could be this blocked ear which stubbornly refuses to yield completely to an otherwise effective wax solvent. I'm impatient, and unused to being impaired by feeling not quite right in myself. I always want to get well at an unreasonable pace. Ah well, I did some writing and then cooked us a veggie pasta dish for lunch. 

Clare returned from her early morning walk with nearly a pound of blackberries she picked, so instead of picking litter when I went out for my afternoon walk, I picked blackberries from bushes along the river embankment, another pound in weight. On the way back, I was in time to see the family of swallows that spends the summer in Pontcanna Fields swooping low over the grass at waist height. That's the first time I've seen them since the evening of my return from Ibiza, when I sneaked a quick walk on my own before self-quarantining. 

Clare stewed both lots with cooking apples and loaded them into her special straining bag, tied to an upended stool on the kitchen table, to make some more blackberry jelly. It shouldn't be long now before the fruit on the park's crab apple trees is ripe enough to pick. But will we have enough empty jam jars by then? Clare likes to use the smallest sized jars for different jams and jellies to give as Christmas presents. She generally stars thinking about Christmas gifts during the summer holidays, and has done all our life together. Start early, avoid the seasonal rush and enjoy more of the festive season is her philosophy. I can't fault it. I'm the one who's prone to do things last minute, however.

Before settling down for the night, I walked out again around the park to clear my head and get some more fresh air. Over by the riding stables, the cry of a screech owl penetrated the darkness, only a few hundred metres from the busy A48 Western Avenue, Cardiff's inner ring road. Between the large municipal allotment area and the containing stables and paddocks, there's an environment rich in insect and plant life which is very wildlife friendly, just a couple of kilometres from the city's commercial and business heart. We are so lucky to live here - just West of the Centre.

 

Litter picking resumed

More sunshine, clouds and showers today. We were promised strong winds today and the speed at which the clouds moved easterly was just a hint of what was to come from mid morning until early evening. It wasn't just a persistent strong wind, but gusts of fifty miles an hour or more, lasting for a few minutes and then fading away, all quite unpredictable and challenging to stay upright walking to the shops when Clare and I went out together.

We went to the medical appliance shop on Cowbridge Road East and bought a thick wedge type cushion to use on chairs whose seat angle promotes wound discomfort even when using my existing ring cushion. The combination of the two proves an instant success, which means I can sit and write for much longer without discomfort or damage. 

A also bought one of those 'Reach/Grabber' devices - a pincer on a long arm that enables the user to get things down from a high shelf or pick things up off the floor. In reality I have no need to use it for either of these reasons. I bought it to use when out in the park for hygienic litter picking. I've not done any since I returned from Ibiza, and some days litter discarded hundreds of metres from the nearest bin the previous evening spoils my walk. The evidence of lazy greedy consumer selfishness tempts me to resent and hate not love my neighbour. 

It's only a small minority of park users, and it's just about balanced by the number of park lovers who pick up litter - elderlies, parents teaching their young to care about the environment and help to maintain it for the benefit of others. The Council has risen to the challenge of increasing bin emptying to match increased public use of the parks. There's even a worker called Richard who patrols early, spot collecting before the rubbish collection lorry arrives, but volunteers also contribute to the perpetual park clean up, although less so to keeping the streets free of litter. They often look neglected for weeks at a time. 

I notice where bottles and cans get dumped - in gutters, on garden walls, street side window sills, telecoms junction cabinets, even within sight of a bin. The use of street sweeping machines is never enough to do the job properly, and accompanying workers find it hard to keep up because of the mess generated and left when gulls break open bin bags and scatter the contents when searching for food.

I took my Grabber with me for my walk in the park at the end of the afternoon. I was surprised at how clear of litter it was. Others have been at work cleaning up in the past few days and there have been far fewer people socialising outdoors due to the rain and wind. One can, three plastic bottles and a glass one in a spot where it lay unnoticed where it had been discarded over the weekend. Because of the high wind I also collected several plastic shopping bags which had been blown and got caught in bushes or fences. One of them contained discarded paper and plastic. Perhaps a fellow collector had lost their grip on a bag which blew away in the wind? It easily happens if they inflate. 

Young saplings recently planted in the park either snapped in the trunk or had their support stay wrenched from the ground, more or less ensuring eventual shearing off. Some of the big trees lost branches too, and a lot of smaller branches littered the grass, travelling a distance buffeted like tumbleweed before the wind.

I had a GP phone call in the afternoon. It seems that my blood count is returning to normal. I have been prescribed a slightly lower dosage of Doxazosin to see if that mitigates the side effects and still helps to reduce and stabilise my blood pressure. I have started using an ear wax dissolving solution as hearing with my right ear is particularly poor, and I think I've been having inner ear problems as well, which seem to amplify, if that's the right word, the medication side effects. The effect or starting to use it is that my ear is even more blocked tonight with the dissolving fluid. Hopefully it will pass as the stuff does its job.

In limbo

I took my Doxazosin pill before bed last night, to avoid its initial impact by sleeping through it, since it tends to make me both light headed and drowsy. It didn't make any difference, however, as the negative effects persisted until after lunch. It doesn't seem to be reducing my blood pressure either, which is still erratic like my pulse. Well, it's always possible that my sphygmomanometer is faulty, and that the body takes time to adjust to a higher dosage. It's all rather un-nerving. The blood test result arrives tomorrow, so I have emailed the surgery to ask for a GP telephone consultation. 

I walked into town this afternoon, and got caught in a ten minute rain shower as I walked down Riverside embankment. Fortunately the trees have a thick coverage of leaves, enough to shelter me on a dry patch of ground until it was over. There was a breath of wind the cloud moved and the sun returned. That's how the weather has been now for several days. I go out, thinking I don't need rain gear, and then it rains. For several days now that's how it's been. I resent having to wear a mac in high summer, or having to carry a brolly or a mac. Annoying weather, if such a thing is possible. 

There seemed to be more people out and about in town this week than the last time I visited. For the sake of the retailers I hope that shoppers are buying and not just looking, which is what I tend to do. But then there's so little I really need these days. The bargain used Olympus OM-D I had my eye on last week has now disappeared from Cameraland's window, presumably sold, thus removing one more temptation to buy something I don't need.

I watched a string of NCIS episodes during the evening to take my mind off these wretched symptoms. It's so odd to be reasonably fit and functional, but feel unwell in this insidious way. I feel as if I'm being poisoned not supported by medication at the moment. Such a bizarre state to be in and I don't know what to do with myself. I wish it didn't take so long to get a reasoned diagnosis, but all medical services that are working are doing so at a much slower pace under the 'new normal' - unless there's an emergency. I'd hate to be in need of emergency treatment these days, even though the coronavirus crisis is making far less demand on medical services these days. I feel I'm in limbo until I know what's wrong with me, if anything. I won't mind if nothing physical is amiss and it turns out to be psychosomatic, or just a case of burnout, as age catches up with me. It would serve me right.

Apples galore

Another day of clouds, sunshine and occasional light showers. This morning's Sunday Worship service on BBC Radio 4 from Northern Ireland was a beautiful poetic series of reflections, music and other recorded sound on the spirituality of listening as the worship leaders had rediscovered it during lock-down. In parts, it resonated with my experience in Ibiza in the deep silence of the countryside punctuated only by the occasional calls of birds, and even rarer sounds of motor traffic, as nobody went out unless they had an official reason to justify doing so. The change was audible too once the restrictions were gradually lifted.

We went to St Catherine's for the Eucharist with Fr Rhys returned fresh from holidays, and Emma who preached. There were three dozen of us in church, including six children, brought by their parents. I hope we'll see more family groups returning once the schools re-start, as they are now bound to do by official edict, backed by the four national top Public Health officials. 

There continues to be a small increase in coronavirus infections in localised outbreaks, but the death rate is now in single figures and the number of sufferers needing hospital treatment is a small fraction of what it was at the height of the initial wave of the epidemic. The battle is now on to control infection rates and enable to get back to work in the face of a rising tide of bankruptcies and unemployment due to global economic recession. These are troubling times indeed, specially for the poor in every country. Who could have imagine this nine months ago? 

Jacquie invited us over to her house in Dinas Powis to drink tea with her and a house guest who'd lived and worked in Switzerland for a pharmaceutical company before retirement and eventual return to the UK. We came away with several kilos of Bramley cooking apples which had fallen from a garden tree, good for cooking into apple puree and freezing for future use. These were in addition to apples from the church garden purchased this morning. Church garden produce sales have now raised £500 for church funds, a welcome addition in a time of reduced income from giving. In addition to the two jars of blackberry and apply jelly in preparation since yesterday, the filtered pulp residue yielded a couple more jars of blackberry and apple puree. Wonderful flavours! 

It was early evening by the time I started my daily walk. With so much sitting and typing last night and sitting around this afternoon, putting a different sort of pressure on my wound for lengths of time, I paid the price for it today in pain and discomfort. The range of protective measures I can take is limited. They work some times but not others. It's frustrating and debilitating, as is the impact of the extra medication I'm taking. I used by my last 4mg Doxazosin tablet to see me through the day, and will take the 8mg slow release tablet before going to sleep, in the hope that sleep will cover the worst impact during the first eight hours of 24 hour once a day slow release pill. I have to do something to mitigate its effects as they ruin the first half of my waking day.

Making the effort to write

Another morning of sunshine, clouds and showers like yesterday. Clare cooked pancakes for breakfast. The blackberry puree tasted delicious with them. We walked to Llandaff weir before lunch and got rained upon (no mac) while picking blackberries on the way back, the same weight as yesterday. This time they will be be stewed with some cooking apples and filtered through a muslin bag to give a clear blackberry jelly. Wonderful!

I walked again in Pontcanna Fields after lunch, trying to clear my head. I woke up thinking about how to complete the novel I began writing last year when we were staying in Oxwich. It's now over seventy four thousand words long. I've written very little of it since February, just a chapter in lock-down Ibiza and another since returning. There's been so much else going on in life, I've had no space in which to let that particular creative process flow. Now, I think I have the space but unsure of the state of my head will let me. 

After supper, I wrote for an hour and a half, and was able to move the story on a step more towards its conclusion. I think. Only when it's completed will I be in a good position to re-read, correct and edit. If I tried to do this en passant it would be even harder to conclude the story. I was relieved to feel no worse after making the effort to write something other than this daily chronicle of my life.

 

Side effects

 I went to the surgery to have another blood sample taken for testing this morning. I hope it's possible to find out soon what's causing my blood pressure rise such that I need this extra medication which affects me more than it should to reduce it. It's hard to do anything that involves sitting or standing quietly for long as it makes me feel light headed, slightly intoxicated, as if I'm losing my equilibrium, although I never do. It's not good for sustaining concentration and undermines confidence. Only when I walk or am really active does the sensation subside. The remedy really is worse than the ailment it sets out to cure.

In the afternoon, Clare sieved all the pips from the blackberries collected and cooked yesterday, to make a beautifully flavoured puree, four small glass jars' worth. I walked to the Aldi supermarket on Western Avenue to stock up on a few of their select wine bargains, two different Utiel-Requena reds and a generic French Pinot Noir. There was nothing worth watching on telly, so I went to bed early

Fruit foraging time

A day of sunshine, clouds and light showers, more like a spring than end of summer. I went to St John's Eucharist this morning, with ten of us present. I didn't stop to socialise afterwards, as I thought I would go straight into town, but I wasn't motivated enough to make the effort. I'm still adjusting to the newly increased dosage of Doxazosin, which makes me feel light headed for much longer in the day, though less intensely. It's effective in reducing blood pressure, but the side effect bothers me. It messes with my head, as youngsters say nowadays.

I slept again after lunch, and went out to walk in Thompson's Park as a predicted shower of rain arrived. It didn't last long and was refreshingly cool on my face. Clare went out to pick blackberries, just as I got home, and returned an hour later with 750grams worth to cook and turn into blackberry puree. I felt too tired to go out with her, although I had not walked for as long as I usually do - again the impact of these damned pills I think. But never mind, there will be lots more opportunities for foraging together in the park in coming weeks, as this year's blackberry crop has only just started ripening in earnest. 

In the evening we watched a film called 'Quartet' which Clare has seen a couple of times before but I haven't. Made in 2012, it's set in a country mansion which serves as a home for elderly retired musicians and has a start studded cast of elderly instrumentalists and actors. It's a truthful portrayal of what getting old is all about, depressingly so, as this is the time of life we're now embarked upon. It was a lovely comedy with a surprising late romance revealed as the story developed. It's good to laugh about the state we get into as we go deeper into old age, although not so funny in reality when it's a struggle to stay fit and well. But you have to laugh if you're to resist the temptation to weep in despair, or shout with rage at the dying of the light, as Dylan Thomas urged us to.

Acupuncture again

I had a rather disturbed night's sleep, overslept by an hour and had to listen to 'Thought for the Day' by back tracking the Radio Four 'Today' programme on BBC Sounds by an hour while it was still running. A very useful facility. It rained all morning, and I couldn't get my act together in time to go to the midweek Eucharist at St Catherine's. Ah well, sometimes you lose.

I started the new Doxazosin 8mg slow release tablets at breakfast time. There's seems to be no escaping the light headedness this drug produces, but the increased dosage has reduced my blood pressure almost to normal. It doesn't explain what caused it to skyrocket a couple of weeks ago, but hopefully my next blood test on Friday will shed some light on this.

I cooked lunch and had an acupuncture appointment with Peter Butcher immediately afterwards. When the ten minute notification sounded on my phone, I realised that I'd not left enough time to walk down Cathedral Road to Parkwood Clinic, which is Peter's new Cardiff work base, so Clare drove me to get me there on time. I came away from the treatment feeling less fragile and more stable. Heaven knows how acupuncture works, but it does work for me, and helps rebuild my resilience after a rocky patch. 

I went straight home, and slept for an hour and a half before going for my walk in the park. The river Taff is swollen and coloured a rich earthy brown after a spell of heavy rain upstream. Small beaches along the riverbanks and the islands of pebbles are all under water, with the exception of a small mound of stones where a solitary gull and a bewildered bedraggled looking goosander were perched.

In the evening we watched a couple of programmes about Japan, one about the natural environment and another nature inspired Japanese art. An aesthetic feast.

The eye of the beholder

After rising early, my annoying start to the day with Google Blogger was made more annoying by receiving a text message purporting to be a Pay Pal security alert, saying my account was blocked and needed unblocking with a clickable link to a URL to follow through. The text message header gave a full UK mobile number from which it originated, like the alert, most likely a fake, or else a number used to harvest phone numbers from people wanting to check it out. If spam text messages are sent to randomly generated phone numbers, harvesting responses is a way of finding out which numbers out of the random set generated are actually in use. Information that can be sold to other scammers. Either that or some cyber scammer has my mobile number, siphoned off in a hack attack on a website containing my mobile number - probably TalkTalk - at some time or another, but when? 

Only recently I set up a Pay Pal account, but didn't get as far as adding bank details to it. I've had almost daily nags to do so ever since. Enough to make me ask - do I really need this extra convenient financial facility? Isn't it just going to be one more set of emails I don't need, another area of cyber vulnerability I can well do without? So I closed the new account. I wonder how long it will take the email nags from Pay Pay to dry up?

In the mail today an envelope from the TV licensing authority telling us that we have to re-apply for a TV license: i.e. pay up in full within two months or else. It's only four months ago when I reached 75 that I became eligible for a free license and was refunded eight months worth of subscription money paid out in December last. The new license will expire end of July 2021. Well, I had four months for free, and never minded having to afford the license fee payment, because of the invaluable content and web services the Beeb provides, which we use every day. I greatly resent the government starving the Corporation of funds, and resulting cutbacks in content. It will in my opinion contribute further to the decline of British influence in the world. Just like brexit.

Clare and I cooked and ate lunch together, then I went out to the local shops for a few items, before a walk in the park. Clare went out to a meditation group at six, so we ate supper later than usual when she got back. We watched a fascinating hour long programme in Welsh 'Cefn Gwlad' (Back Country in English) about a very traditional Snowdonia sheep farm showing a shepherd's work around the year in great detail. 

The programme must have been made about twenty five years ago. The screen aspect ratio was 3:2 and the colour cast wasn't nearly as vivid  and saturated as prevalent nowadays. It made me wonder if it had been filmed rather than videoed on VHS. It made a pleasant and restful change from today's over bright, hyper-real HD screen colours. A resurgence of interest in 35mm film cameras and photography suggests a dissatisfaction with the digital given, as it seems un-natural, hard on the eyes. Nature's colours are far more varied and subtle than human attempts to emulate them digitally.

New Blogger UI not fit for purpose

Google's new Blogger user interface is far from ready to warrant forcing it on users. It's intended to give a degree of consistency between use on a phone, tablet and PC, but its drop down menus are slow both to reveal and dismiss. The 'search label' function is time wastingly slow. Type in a word to add, it doesn't appear in the search box as you type, so you don't know if you have typed it correctly. It can take ten to twenty seconds to show up with a checklist of labels and/or option to create new one. And I don't have a slow internet connection. But there's worse to come.

Last night, I decided to complete the day's post on my phone before bed, having started the post on my Chromebook earlier. The draft showed up on my phone just fine, and I completed writing it, and then posted it without error messages. When I came to check out what I wrote on my Chromebook this morning, the post title showed up, but when I clicked on it, last night's partial draft showed up in the text editor and in preview, not the full version, written and posted last night. Evidently, the text posted from my phone had not sync'ed. I had enough phone signal for it to confirm posting, so what happened? Why did the posting not sync with the Chromebook app. This never happened with posting from the phone on the old user interface. I can only draw the conclusion that the slowness of the new version caused this.

If Google responds in its own defence by saying that the hew user interface doesn't work on seven year old Chromebook, how come every other Google app works just fine and hasn't let me down before? 

New sandals, new iron

Although the cloud base has lifted and it's a bit lighter this morning, breaks in the cloud come and go. It looks like it may rain. I'm longing for a cheerful blue summer skies to return. While I was walking back from collecting my prescription I received a mobile phone call from my GP. I was relieved to hear that the blood tests had revealed nothing of concern apart from a kidney function low sodium count anomaly. She explained it can be a consequence of long term use of Losartan, but she's ordered another blood test for Friday to double check. The new batch of higher dosage Doxazosin tablets are time release capsules. It's a relief, as the impact of a double dosage, taken together is a swimmy head for hours after taking. At least my blood pressure is returning to normal now, which is a relief.

I went into town after lunch and bought a new pair of Ecco sandals as the ones I bought back in February are worn down at the heels and this is giving me walking discomfort. N.o wonder after covering around two thousand kilometres in the time since then. I was lucky enough to find an identical copy at a thirty percent discount. I also bought a new clothes iron, as the current one has developed an electrical fault since it was dropped. Now the question is how to dispose of the broken one correctly?

We watched three episodes of NCIS this evening. Two were from series one, the third from series fifteen. Interesting to see how the main characters have aged in the fifteen years since it began.

Return of the organ

Still no break in the overcast weather we've been experiencing since Thursday, but it was heartening this morning at St Catherine's Parish Eucharist to have live organ music again, although no singing due to the health restrictions imposed. Again there were twenty eight of us worshipping together, steady summer numbers. When school holidays are over, will the numbers pick up again without Sunday school being open? If it's to happen safely it will require extra safety measures which  and it may not be practicable straight away. 

I confess I'm relieved not to have any parochial pastoral responsibilities and no locum duty services to undertake at the moment. My time in Ibiza seems to have drained me of seal and desire to be useful in God's service, just grateful to be just on the receiving end for a change. Uncertainty about my state of health and feeling less well than I'm used to is a major factor. Tomorrow I'll be chasing my GP to find out what the blood tests taken nine days age have revealed.

After lunch and a siesta, we walked up to Llandaff Cathedral and enjoyed sitting quietly together in the nave before returning, dampened by light rain, which started unexpectedly not long after we left the house. The children's playground in Llandaff Fields finally re-opened re-opened yesterday. The chains have been removed from the gates. There's a new notice attached to the fence stating how many children are allowed to use the facility at any time, eighteen apparently, and another with the usual list of covid-19 precautions applied to playgrounds. 

Since the end of lock-down, children have been climbing the fence to play, if not lifted over it by some parents, while others shun and explain to their kids the reason why. As far as I can recall, no modifications have been made to playground apparatus during the long wait. Admittedly there are hundreds of play parks around the city, but what took them so long to unlock such a popular venue?

In the evening we watched a re-make of the crime thriller 'The Lady Vanishes', originally made famous in Hitchcock's 1938 movie. I was disappointed that this wasn't a showing of the original classic version.

End of summer in sight

It's the feast of the Assumption today, signalling the end of summer holidays in Europe and the return to school for the kids in the coming week. Our holiday making season still has another couple of weeks to run. School exam results continue to be a bone of contention causing so much uncertainty for so many youngsters about to leave school for college or university. As if living with the pandemic wasn't already overloading us all with uncertainty.

It's another overcast misty day, with no wind to drive the clouds away. Clare cooked pancakes for breakfast, eaten today with fresh fruit jam she made yesterday from a surfeit of ripe plums and greengages. So the label on the three jars calls it 'Plumgage Jam' - delicious!

I went to the King's Road pharmacy to collect my prescription and was disappointed to find that it isn't open weekends. As the surgery now sends prescriptions by default direct to the pharmacy across the road for patients to collect later, this is unfortunate for any who work away during the week and are obliged to collect medication when they return. I believe it's possible to arrange for a script to be sent to a different pharmacy - fine if you know it in advance, however ....

I spent some time sorting uploaded Oxwich photos into suitable albums, and emailing weblinks to the children, then cooked a vegetable paella for lunch, one version for Clare avoiding things banned by her anti-arthritis diet, and another for myself, including them. We then walked up the Taff to Llandaff Weir. It didn't rain, but we got damp anyway due to the high humidity.

In the evening, we watched a programme on S4C about the visit last year to perform at a spring festival in New Orleans by the Welsh speaking North Walian brass octet 'Llaregub'. It's only recently we heard them for the first time in this year's on-line National Eisteddfod closing concert broadcast on S4C. They are an excellent swing band and their American audience received them with delight and enthusiasm. Another source of pride in our performers. "Praise the Lord, we are a musical nation!" as Organ Morgan said in Dylan Thomas' play 'Under Milk Wood'.

After that we watched a programme about the making and subsequent popularity of the award winning family sit-com 'Gavin and Stacey', an interesting account of the series and its endearingly positive and hilarious take on the relationships between two families, bound together by the marriage of this couple of young lovers. The series put Barry Island on the map as a go-to South Wales holiday resort, which now attracts visitors from fans from all over the world. 

Real world testing

After breakfast under overcast skies, packing and loading the car was the priority, as we were due to be out of the caravan by ten thirty. We were allowed the use the hotel car park to stay on longer, and went there for a coffee later before parting company at lunchtime. But first, we walked a few kilometres along the beach together and took photos of Kath cartwheeling and Owain doing star jumps to camera using burst mode to good effect.

It's been lovely to have these few days together holidaying en famille, as we haven't done for many years, apart from a few days at Christmas. Naturally we missed having Rachel and Jasmine with us. It's something I'l never get used to. Our children get on well and have fun when they're together, and this is a source of great contentment to us as we get older. 

On our journey home, Clare and I turned off the M4 to eat our picnic lunch in Margam's Country Park where cars were parked on the grass, hundreds of them, indicating how popular a place it is when beaches are miserable grey places. We wanted to return, get the washing done, the mail answered and photos uploaded before the weekend, so we didn't go into the park to have a look around. Another time we must make the effort, as neither of us has been there, that we can recall.

The last week or so has seen a marked resurgence of covid-19 cases in EU countries. It seems that it's younger people that are being infected, perhaps due to the slow return to normal social interactions. The impact is far less severe in many cases it seems. It suggests the virus is mutating in an evolutionary way, to co-exist within live human tissue rather than killing people, which isn't in the best survival interests of the virus.

Today the surge in infestions has led to the sudden imposition of quarantine for people returning from France, ruining thousands of holidays, causing mass travel panic for Brits and untold economic damage to the holiday and leisure industries. This development has seemed likely for several days, so an early warning would have served better than a sudden change. I wonder if the government really understands the impact this is going to have on people's lives. 

The same too in relation to the way grade assessments for GCSE and A level students have failed to recognise the academic achievements of many school students and devalued their performance on the basis of an algorithmic abstraction, rather than on the evaluation of their teachers. It's taken widespread uproar nationally to get it reconsidered. I don't really understand why ability and achievement aren't being monitored by continuous assessment rather than by exams, which are a contrived form of testing with a tenuous relationship to real world challenges. There are lots of smart clever people in government but decisions taken don't always reflect wisdom or reliable common sense. They fail the real world test.

Hazy Rhossili

Walking on the beach to the river at the far end of the wetland reserve yesterday was very taxing, with the temperature rising to 28C. I fell asleep on the sofa before going to bed, and slept for a couple hours before turning in. The stormy weather front caught up with us. After a few rumbles of thunder, torrential rain fell for about an hour, the sound of it on the roof was quite mesmerising and didn't stop me dozing off. Today is cooler, hazy and overcast, prompting a drive to Rhossili for a picnic lunch.

The car parks at Rhossili were two thirds full and the path out to Worm's Head busy with walkers. Down on the beach 120m below were a few hundred people scattered about on the vast expanse of sand. It must be heaving with people when the surf is up and the sun shining. As the car park is on National Trust land our membership allowed us to park for free and not pay the six pound a day ch arge. The car park meter has a QR code scanner to register members parking there, but it wasn't working. The car park attendant issuing tickets was taking cash, but many drivers arriving had no cash with them. The habit of using real money is disappearing rapidly with the surge in use of contactless payment during the pandemic crisis.

There was no wind and it was warm enough to have a picnic lunch on the clifftop overlooking the island. A few spots of rain on the return walk and a drink in the cafe near the car park served to deter a further expedition down to beach below. On the return drive it started to rain in earnest. A last supper of fish and chips on the beach had already been mooted, but sporadic rain deterred us, so we sat around the caravan picnic tables and feasted, with copious amounts of wine, before moving down to the beach to light a fire once the rain showers ended. 

We agreed that not even the best of the Mediterranean's beaches can match those of the Gower, as it's not been ruined by developers, and the majority of tourists have to leave at night. There's not enough accommodation, nor ever will be as long as the land is as carefully conserved as it is. Besides the majority of tourists probably live within convenient driving distance. We've noticed a great number of cars leave between five and six - people taking their children home for tea, most probably. We are so very blessed.

View from the edge

For the most part, a hot sunny day, perfect for lying or walking on the beach. Again, large numbers of people coming in by car late morning and leaving late afternoon. We were expecting poorer weather, but surprisingly the change forecasted didn't happen until after sunset. In the meanwhile the temperature rose into the mid twenties and walking was tough going. I went as far as the end of the wetland nature reserve along the beach, and returned on the footpath which crosses the conservation area leading back to the bay car park - 4k along the beach, 3k along the often shady footpath, a delight to walk.

A beach barbecue for supper was proposed. Inevitably it would take longer than usual to cook, so Clare and I had a boql of pasta and vegetables before we set out.  We had all the requisites to make it happen, procured in good time for the expedition. With a cheap consumer barbecue kit, plus a natural fire blazing nicely cooking the food, we were all set for a campfire meal in the dark.

Meanwhile to the north and east over Swansea, clouds darkened and electric storms lit the horizon. Then a wind sprang up out of nowhere, fanning the embers of the fire but taking heat away from food being cooked. Dark clouds moved in our direction and the occasional spot of rain. We packed up and returned to our caravans, hoping to evade the coming deluge. The wind and the electric storm continued, but there was no rain. We sat outside the caravans in the dark and savoured the beauty of the lightening in clouds on the move to the north and east of us, watching the sky slowly clear to reveal the stars. We heard wind making trees sing nearby, but still no rain. The Gower on this occasion was on the periphery of this weather event, and we were spectators of this unusual natural drama.

Family gathered

After a good long night's sleep and breakfast we walked on the beach until lunchtime. There were far more holidaymakers, most arriving from elsewhere by car, bringing paddle boards and jet-skis, canoes and other seaside paraphernalia. At two Kath, Anto. Rhiannon and Owain arrived. We met on the beach and stayed there until it was time for them to collect the key to their caravan, which is the one next door to ours. It was the first time for us all to meet in six months. Such a blessing after the months of fear and uncertainty in Ibiza, wondering if we'd all survive intact. So much to give thanks for.

We were booked in for an early evening meal in the garden of Oxwich Bay hotel. All the tables were full and there was a slow moving queue of people ordering food. We arrived at six and it was eight before we had our meal. The government's August restaurant meal discount scheme was being taken advantage of and the restaurant staff were working flat out to deliver around a hundred meals in a short time frame.

We returned to the caravans and sat outside on the picnic table provided, drinking wine and looking out for shooting stars, as the feast of St Clare is the optimum time to see meteorites. The sky was clear, and everyone saw a couple, except me. But I did see a geostationary satellite cross the sky, a fast moving pinpoint of light describing an arc from south west to north east. Just before giving up for the night I saw one, just above the caravan roof. A also saw a couple of tiny bursts of light, which may have been the end of a meteorite whose tail wasn't visible to me. It's so many years since I was last under a clear sky with no light pollution, and less atmospheric pollution what we've grown used to. Enchanting.

   

Oxwich bound

 By midday with the car packed and we were on our way to the Gower under an overcast sky, driving slowly as far as Bridgend on the A48, stopping in Ewenny for a picnic lunch. By the time we reached Oxwich the sun broke out of the clouds and warmed the afternoon. To my relief, there was only light traffic entering the Gower, once we’d made our way along the coast road through Swansea’s still redeveloping former dockland area. 

We were a little early for our four o’clock check-in and walked on the shore for a while. The tide was almost at its lowest, four hundred metres from the top of the golden sandy beach. I was surprised there weren’t more people sitting out on the or walking, a few hundred maybe, certainly not thousands. Incredible in the high summer holidaymaking season and the year of the ‘staycation’. It’s so lovely here, and not at all built up, thanks to the SSSI conservation area of dunes and marine wetland. Nature is fee to flourish, along with all nature lovers.

Our static caravan is much bigger than I’d imagined with a generously sized master bedroom and a smaller twin bedded room, bathroom and kitchen area with an equally generous lounge with sofas and dining area. Kath, Anto and Rhiannon will have the one next door when they arrive tomorrow. Owain will have a choice of twin beds with us. There are ten static vans in a field surrounded by high leylandia hedges, run by Oxwich Bay hotel. As soon as re-opening was made official, Clare received an email notification and immediately booked for the family. A stroke of genius! We’ll have three midweek days together in a quiet un-crowded place we all love to enjoy, something I couldn’t dare dream of when I was trying to leave Ibiza.

After unloading, setting up the kitchen and unpacking, well, in my case, just the Sony Alpha 68 DSLR camera in my case, we went for a long walk on the beach, as far as the river outflow and back. Two third of the way there we came across a family of nine oystercatchers feeding. There was something wonderful and moving about hearing them call out to each other in their distinctive voice, the sound of ‘Croeso i Gymru a’r lan y mor’ - Welcome to Wales by the sea.

Since arriving we walked over fourteen kilometres - a couple of these walking around to find a phone signal sweet spot, as much of the area of the village under the hill is not in line of sight of the mast above, so you have to walk towards the beach. I listened to the Archers on a phone, standing in a recess the roadside. And the same for communicating with the kids, as I’ve been exchanging messages and sending them caravan photos since we arrived.

After so much exercise, fresh air and quietness, we shall sleep well tonight.

Cathedral reunion

A cool overcast start to the day. It didn't warm up until the cloud broke up in the afternoon. Before we left for the Parish Eucharist at St Catherine's, I started setting up a Pay Pal account for myself, and was much annoyed and frustrated by the refusal of HSBC to let me add my Visa debit account card details to Pay Pal, with no reason given. A web search revealed others have had the same problem, but nothing to indicate how this is resolved. It means I will have to go into the bank in the morning and ask how it can be achieved. It's something I don't need as we're due to drive to Oxwich tomorrow morning.

We were two dozen at the Eucharist, with Mthr Frances. She'd just come from celebrating a Facebook broadcast Eucharist at St John's, nice and simple, using the Lady Chapel. 

After lunch we walked to Llandaff Cathedral where we met Fr Mark. It's the first time we've seen him in six months, so it was good to catch up with him, and learn that all is well with him and his family. It has been a busy time for time with the Dean off sick since April. The Cathedral offered on-line Eucharists in the lock-down months, and has decided to continue, realising that there's a big audience of housebound people out there that they are able to reach better than ever, via the internet. 

Attendance numbers after the first week have been steady, about twice ours in Canton, after near to safe capacity attendances the first week back in church. It's a fraction of the old regular congregations. It's a common experience that many people are still nervous about resuming church attendance. And, there's the summer holiday travel factor to take into account as well.

Before supper I went to Thompson's Park with my Alpha 68 and took some photos. Later, I created a new Google Photos account, having realised that I'm running out of free storage space with existing accounts. Quite apart from the photos taken today, I remembered that I'd not uploaded my Oxwich photos from last October's half term visit, nearly three hundred of them. That was probably when I started thinking about starting a new archive account. It's taken me that long to do anything about it.

 

S4C shines

 Another lovely summer day to rejoice in. Pancakes for breakfast, then a walk together around the Fields and down to Blackweir, where the sun's angle made the waters of the Taff sparkle. We sat on a bench for ten minutes and enjoyed the moment. A dutiful heron stood on the opposite side of the island of pebbles in the river, neck completely outstretched ready to spot and catch a passing fish. It was a long way away but the photo I took at almost full zoom length wasn't blurred as they often are. Not surprising really as the auto focus shutter speed was 1/320, as it was so bright.

After lunch in the garden we took a siesta, then I went down to the local shops for a few items each of us needed. In Tesco's I found a bottle of Reinhessen Pinot Noir one of Clare's favourites and mine, rate to see on a supermarket shelf here. The last time we drank a glass of this was on our 2018 Rhine Cruise in Rudesheim. We haven't spent a great deal of time in Germany over the years, just a handful of visits, but drinking a glass the country's Pinot Noir in particular hold special memories of those times.

Although the garden was in shade, it was warm enough to eat supper outdoors. We have been blessed with many more healthy looking roses than usual this year and abundant flowers of different kinds that are well frequented by bees and cabbage white butterflies. The runner beans which Clare planted in pots and in a corner of the flowerbed are growing tall and flowering nicely. A solitary sparrow it seems has taken up residence and sings from the climbing rose bush which covers the other side of the garden wall trellis. For once in my life I'm not restless and content to be just where I am.

We watched a concert on S4C recently recorded concert as lock-down restrictions were eased. This year's National Eisteddfod moved entirely on-line. This concert was arranged in place of the final gala event I believe. Performers were all socially distanced, singers on stage and backing musicians under separate stylish open sided tents. The swinging Llaregub brass ensemble stood well spaced in the open simply choreographed and uniformed like a carnival marching band. Excellent performances, a handful of them done via video not recorded on site, with several numbers from Bryn Terfel to finish off with. It was an outstanding S4C production technically and content-wise, and deserves far wider recognition than it will probably get, as it's all in Welsh.

Two continuity presenters were scripted with poetic links between performances. Apart from 'memory lane' numbers many of the songs seem to have been written, certainly during lock-down, if not for this particular concert. It held together seamlessly as a production, and was really impressive with thoughtful content. I was struck by the expression of spiritual longing and searching, with mentions of God. A setting of the Benedictus from the Ordinary of the Mass was sung, and that was the only church/religious item to be included. Wales may now be a largely secular society, but its creatives are still looking above and beyond themselves for hope and meaning.

Afterwards I went out to stretch my legs and get some fresh air before bed. Some people were still sat on the grass chatting in the twilight under a clear blue sky as the stars came out.

Slight progress

The day started, cloudy and slightly damp, but the cloud broke up as the morning went on and the sun shone, warming the air, making it feel like a proper summer day.  A visit to our GP surgery mid morning for a wide ranging blood test, five samples being taken in all, My blood pressure was taken and it's still worryingly high. The doctor came down for a brief consultation me in the treatment room, which was so much better than the phone conversation I'd been waiting for. 

Thankfully the ECG taken a fortnight ago revealed a few minor anomalies, but nothing of concern, similar to when the one I had in Ibiza, no need to refer me for an ultrasound heart scan. I am, however being referred to a hypertension specialist at Llandough. When that'll happen is anybody's guess. Meanwhile my doxazosin dose is doubled. from the original prescription. I hope it makes a difference, as the symptoms I'm experiencing raise anxiety and distract me from doing new things. The first half of the day is worse than the second. I always seem to be feel better after I exercise, and in the evening. It's a puzzle in need of a solution.

I walked into town this afternoon, and visited John Lewis store, which is once more open for business,  so far with few customers, no need to queue outside. Like a kid, I challenged myself to ride the elevator up to the top floor and down again without holding the handrail - insanitary things. Nothing to worry about there, my balance is as good as it needs to be! More customers wearing masks in there than in the SD2 mall next door. 

There are some good tech bargains at the moment especially Chromebooks, but nothing new I really need. There is, however a used Olympus OM-D in the window of Cameraland, half the price of a new one. I'm tempted by this as I'd like to find out what's so special about Olympus Micro Fourth Thirds cameras, often highly praised by enthusiasts, not least for their portability it seems. Well maybe, maybe not. Hard to justify. I wish I could borrow or hire one to try out.

After supper, Clare and I relaxed and watched an episode of 'Vera' together. It doesn't happen that often and it's nice when we do. One or other of us is often busy with some task or other, or we want to watch different things, at the same time. Clare in the lounge, me on the bed on a Chromebook.

The imposition of precautionary quarantine on people returning to UK from countries showing spikes in rates of infection is wreaking economic havoc during this holiday month. Unable to go to Spain, many Brits are going to France instead, but infection rates are rising there again too. It may not be long until France joins the list. I feel for Emma the diocesan locum secretary visiting family in Brittany. In an email last week she said how shocked she was by what seemed to her a total disregard for precautions in the general population where she stays, quite apart from holidaymakers. It's as if people have already forgotten just how frightening the events of recent months were.

 

Anniversaries - personal and global

Our fifty fourth wedding anniversary today, on the feast of the Transfiguration, and the seventy fifth anniversary of the atomic bombing of Hiroshima four months after I was born. On the news I heard that there was no international gathering to observe this anniversary this year because of the pandemic, just a handful of dignitaries and remaining hibakusha - survivors of the bomb - all masked and socially distanced. A generation which learned about about lethal contamination the hard way in the ruins of their city. Were their contemporaries in denial about the dangers they faced, like so many people today who refuse to take seriously the need to wear masks, wash hands and keep socially distanced? Somehow I doubt it.

I went to St John's for the Eucharist of the day. There were ten of us present, five of us clergy. With its movable chairs it's easy to arrange the church for social distancing by removing surplus ones, and it still looks OK. On the walk home to cook lunch, I met Eileen on her way to church to prepare for the first funeral since the pandemic started. I wonder how it'll work, how many mourners will be allowed inside?

Nicky or niece asked if it would be possible to annotate a few of the oldest photos in the slideshow I did for my sister Pauline's funeral with identifying names. Today I got around to doing this. It meant adding text to photos and replacing the originals in the slidewshop project file, then re-rendering into MP4 file. Adding the text was a bit fiddly as I had to learn how to do it in the latest version of MS Paint. Just as with other modern apps, it's simple enough once you know how the process works, but the minimalist user interface lacks guidance

Mid afternoon we drove to Bristol for another double chiro appointment. Ruth took my blood pressure. I was relived to learn that although high it was less than when I last took it. I didn't get my GP telephone appointment yesterday and wondered if that would happen today instead, without having to chase up the surgery. I still need to discuss medication dosage rather than just guess. I am at the surgery for a blood test tomorrow, so I can ask about it then.

After supper, I watched the third of Huey Morgan's programmes on Latin American music on BBC iPlayer. This one was about Puerto Rican music, on the island and in Huey's native downtown New York. Like the other two in the series it was most enjoyable, well worth watching, all three are celebrations of cultural diversity and musical creativity. And I could follow the Spanish being spoken!

 

Sound fixed

There were ten of us for the midweek Eucharist at St Catherine's this morning, all spread out in the nave of the church rather than up in the chancel - the inevitable 'new normal'. It was overcast but warm enough for us to sit outside in the grounds after the service, chat and drink a coffee together. Hilary was there, selling this week's harvested fruit and veg from the church garden, including the first half a dozen ripe figs. I bought them, along with a pound of Victoria plums just picked. You can't get any fresher than straight off the tree!

Ann joined us after the service. It's the first time we've met since returning. We kept in touch via email when I was away. She told me that she belongs to a U3A group which sometimes talks about IT - she used to teach this in school. Thanks to the enthusiasm of one group member, the challenge of installing Linux is being discussed. It seems I'm not the only person disaffected with Windows 10's intrusive behaviour.

As I left for home and lunch, there was rain in the air and by mid afternoon there was intermittent drizzle which persisted for the rest of the day. I didn't go out to complete my walk until after the Archers, since I missed my GP's phone call at church - ironic when I was only just across the road from the surgery, where you can no longer just drop in, as access is now carefully controlled, for good reason. I waited in for the return call all afternoon, but none came. As it was wet, I wasn't eager to go out anyway. 

The symptoms I've experienced in recent days are slowly becoming less intense, and I'm enjoying spells of much needed deep relaxation. I hope that when I do next measure my blood pressure it will have dropped closer to normal. I recognise that chronic stress is a contributory factor, and reckon that I'm still 'decompressing' at a deep physical level, not just those muscles in my right gluteous maximus which have been worked on by Ruth during our expeditions to Bristol. I just have to be patient with myself and not push myself quite so hard.

I was pleased to have an acknowledgement from Wesley Media this morning, with a promise to remedy the problem. Later in the day, there was a second email to say it had been done. I needn't have stayed up late last night and edited the sound file as I did, but at least it proved that the fault could be remedied by someone a lot more professional than me.

Inaudible

An overcast day today, but no wind and warm enough for people to be sitting out in groups on Llandaff Fields. I went to the bank and deposited a cheque after breakfast. This week the door was open and a few clients were queuing inside. Not all were masked, but the cashiers set a good example behind their bullet proof security screen. Stores it seems are no longer offering those who enter a shot of hand sanitizer, the bank likewise. The two tills in HSBC are equipped with new card and smartphone app reading devices, recently installed, but not yet operational "Next week", I was told. Other banking groups are ahead of them in this. I had to pay in my cheque with the traditional paper slip provided, and draw cash from the nearby ATM. I guess this makes it simpler to check receipts at the end of the banking day.

Twenty five years ago Swiss retail banks were fitted with magnetic strip card readers for clients' specially issued account identity card. When we lived there, Switzerland was still predominantly a banknote using country and to some extent still is. There were ATMs but fewer of them. You made a visit to the bank for withdrawal as well as payment and deposit services, and the bank card made it easy to pay money in and take it out. Some UK banks adopted similar bank cards in the new millennium but not universally so. The use of ATMs was more widespread, and cheques for payment. The introduction of modern debit cards giving access to account information from the 'hole in the wall' out in the street. And then came internet banking and mobile banking from the smartphone.

I noticed the door of Stavros' hairdressing salon next door to the bank was open, so I caught his eye as he was seeing a customer out, and asked how I could book an appointment. As he had time before his next booking he summoned me in for a quick cut, much needed. My hair, thank God I still have this much, has grown so thick and untidy in the five months since I last saw him, a few days before leaving for Spain. He was out of work for four of those months and is now playing catch-up with clients. 

My name, temperature and phone number was taken, while the chair was sanitized, and then I was covered in plastic sheeting before my haircut. I paid and gave him a big tip, to make up for the haircut I didn't get after I should have returned at the end of April. He said the business the first week after reopening was hectic, but has settled back to being normally busy now. His salon is so conveniently placed, it benefits from passers-by as well as loyal customers.

As Clare bought a fish pie mix to eat for lunch, I cooked paella for the first time in more than a year. It turned out well despite lack of practice. It's become a bit more complex an operation since Clare adopted a special diet for arthritis sufferers. It involves avoiding potatoes, peppers and tomatoes among other things, all foods which I enjoy, so we've had to learn to cook some components separately which previously we both would have been able to eat mixed together. It's easy enough to cook tomatoes and peppers separately and then mix them into my portion of the paella, as long as I get the timing right and don't get distracted.

After my walk in the park this afternoon I decided to email my GP again to report that the doxazosin medication is having no impact on how I've been feeling this past week. Having to wait so long for tests and an examination increasingly worrying me. Should I increase the dosage further, stop taking it or wait to be prescribed something different?

I was disappointed to learn from Ashley this evening that Paul's funeral webcast is almost inaudible. It's sad as it means the eulogy, written with much collaborative effort for the wider civic audience won't be heard by anyone other than the family. The microphone was working, in fact it was over-sensitive as it picked up the noise of the lightest touch on the lectern, and I know the family could hear me from their responses. The audio feed to the webcasting device can't have properly configured or monitored for quality. A technical disgrace. I must check the webcast and record it, to find out whether Audacity can do anything to improve the sound.

 

Funeral for a friend

After a rather broken night's sleep, I was up early sorting myself out, getting ready to be taken to the crematorium at Croesyceiliog to officiate at Paul's funeral. Gary had agreed to drive Ashley and myself there, and Clare drove me to our rendezvous point at the Tesco filling station at half past ten. Having had high blood pressure problems this past week, I was reluctant to risk driving myself there and starting to feel ill. I wanted to minimise the stress, and was relieved to find they both intended to go. We were an hour early arriving, so Ashley and Gary went off to have a late breakfast, while I walked investigated the grounds, beautifully laid out and kept immaculately, and tried to familiarise myself with arrangements in place for the service as a result of covid19. Fortunately the toilets are now open, but the waiting room and superintendents office were shut, as there was an hour's gap between services before ours.

Colleagues from Cardiff Council began arriving a quarter of an hour beforehand, about a dozen of them, a few I recognised from several years ago, when CBS shared an office with the City Centre Management team. Then the family arrived, and I needed to introduce myself to them briefly before we started, since I was only known to James and Elaine with whom I planned the service. Just ten mourners were allowed into the chapel, all family. Former colleagues stood and watched silently as Paul's coffin was carried into the chapel by his sons outside. Bystanders waited until the end of the service to offer their condolences. Regrettably there was no external loudspeaker to relay the service, though a few apparently watched the webcast on their phones. I hope they'll watch the replay. I hope they'll think the eulogy did him justice.

We only had a twenty minute slot and unfortunately started and finished late, although there was slack in the schedule which meant the end wasn't unceremoniously curtailed. The usual arrangement whereby mourners gather under a canopy just outside the exit door has been suspended due to restrictions, to discourage gatherings in a semi-enclosed space. We were allowed to use an open air terrace around the corner, however, where colleagues got their chance to have a word with the family. There could be no wake, but there is talk of arranging a drinks gathering in the city soon, now that pubs are open again, as well as a memorial service next year.

Having known Paul when I was city centre Vicar, and then worked alongside Paul in retirement, for a total of eighteen years, I found this funeral as tough as the few family funerals I've had to do over the years. Normally when it's someone close, I prefer not to take the service but to be with the mourners. On this occasions I couldn't avoid honouring the family's request and experiencing grief of my own. 

After paying our respects, we made our way back to Cardiff. I was back in the house by two. Clare had just cooked a delicious curry for lunch, and when I'd eaten, I went to bed to mull over the experience and slept deeply for an hour. I was glad to have taken the decision to let someone else drive me, as it meant I could give of my best. If anything I came away feeling better than I expected.

After dropping me off at Tesco, Clare had taken the car to our garage to get a suspicious nose checked out. We had a phone call to say we could collect it, so I walked to Splott to get it, arriving just as the garage was closing. A quick stop at Lidl's on the return trip to stock up on nuts and a couple of wines to take to Oxwich Bay next week, before heading for home and a quiet evening doing nothing much more than writing this post. Rest in peace Paul.

  

Progress, for better and for worse

Another sunny morning for a walk to St Catherine's for the Eucharist. We were about thirty this week, and it was Fr Benedict's first appearance at a church service there. Emma preached a superb sermon evoking memories of childhood in the Valleys, talking about 'Our Mam's' ability to conjure up a plate of food for anyone who turned up, when often it seemed she had very little in the larder to conjure with. The context was the Gospel about feeding the five thousand. She also talked about moments when Jesus just wanted to be alone for a brief while, to absorb what was happening before re-engaging with the crowd. It rang true.

Good news! The mid-week Eucharists can resume this week. St Luke's on Tuesday, St Catherine's on Wednesday and St John's Thursday, all at 10.30, so there's a standard time to remember across the Parish. Socially distanced coffee and chat to follow - bring your own!

I walked to the Cathedral in the afternoon for the third Sunday in a row, and said Evening Prayer from my phone, just at the time Choral Evensong would normally be taking place. Will it ever return?

Mother Francis asked Clare if she would video herself reading in Welsh the section of the Song of Azariah which features as a canticle in the daily office of the Church in Wales. She was bewildered, as there were a few oddities in the Welsh text. She wanted to cross check with the English version that she'd understood it correctly so she could recite it correctly, but was even more bewilderment when she couldn't find it in her bible. 

She was looking in a Bible without the Apocrypha - that slim volume of scriptural texts regarded by some, though not all Protestants as of secondary significance because their origin was not in a Hebrew text, but a Greek one. They come from the three centuries before Christ, and played a part in Catholic and Orthodox Churches, whereas reformers regarded them with suspicion, alleging they were source of abuse and false doctrine. Hence they find their place as supplement in reputable translations, and are omitted from conservative ones like the KJV. 

I realised Clare doesn't have a Welsh Bible with Apocrypha, only a Testament Newydd. Anyway I was able to find her the right passage for checking. A phone call to Eleri revealed that the Welsh text of the canticle published in the new Prayer Book office contains two typos. And how many more, I wonder. That's disgraceful in a bilingual church, although these days one can always get away with laying the blame on digital text editing rather than inattention or ignorance.

The new Google blogger interface is awful to use, as its drop down menus and search facility are so slow. I hope this is a work in progress and that it will improve. It makes my old Chromebook almost unusable. It's also uncomfortably slow on my Windows workstation, which equally robs me of time forcing me to machine mind whenever it updates. They're all the same, these big tech corporations  taking a simple easy to get used to product and imposing changes unasked for and unwanted.

Too many mixed messages

A sunny Saturday, with pancakes for breakfast as usual. I went for a short mid morning walk, as exercise and fresh air alleviate the unpleasant sensations, associated with  high blood pressure. Increasing the Doxazin dosage seems to have made no noticeable difference so far.

After lunch we walked over to Diana and Pete's house for a socially distanced up of tea on the lawn in their small garden abundant with flowers. We took our own cups and teabags and Pete supplied the hot water. We shared thoughts about the impact of lock-down on us a our great age, and the challenge of re-emerging into society again when so few people wear marks and observe social distancing rules. 

I received revisions to the eulogy I'd written for Paul's funeral, and finalised Monday's service text. I'll have to be sure when I print it off to print it in landscape mode. I recall, the last time I was at Gwent crem having an A5 service leaflet plus an A4 printout of the eulogy. As the ministers lectern is only large enough for an A5 booklet, I had to be careful juggling between it and the A4 sheet. Indeed, I did end up dropping it after reading, and had to retrieve it during a hymn, less undignified than waiting to pick it up, as I steppe down into the concluding silence. It's so important to minimize the amount of distracting movement at an intense moment like that.  

The government has again swiftly changed the restrictions on public gatherings, in the face of gradually rising infection numbers. It's frightful that there's been such confusing information to the point that people disregard and abandon sensible precaution. The highly popular children's play park on Llandaff Fields has remained locked, even though dozens of others across the city have re-opened following health and safety modifications. This hasn't stopped bigger children from climbing over the fence, and in passive I've even seen parents picking up smaller ones and depositing them the other side, to go an play with their friends. There are no park rangers or police to remind people there's a public health reason for keeping it locked, nor a stated reason for keeping unmodified playgrounds closed. 

I decided to go to bed early, rather than watch the second episode of French drama series 'La Vague' on BBC Four Tonight. Its fictional supernatural fantasy elements are  unreal and improbable to my taste, just as in the French series 'Contact' on Channel Four. It used to be said that religion was regarded as the opium of the people. Nowadays I think it's escapist fantasy fiction which merits this description more and there's so much of it about on a grand ambitious scale thanks to CGI animation.