A damp grey start to the day, listening to the Radio 4 Sunday Worship programme, from RAF Cranwell's chaplaincy, appropriate on this Remembrance Sunday, in the eightieth anniversary year of the Battle of Britain. Later on I watched the Remembrance ceremony at the Whitehall Cenotaph on telly.The Queen watched from a balcony above, while her sister, her son and grandson took part in the ceremony below. Prince Charles laid a wreath on behalf of his mother, and a representative number of Commonwealth diplomats attended.
It was all beautifully arranged with the hugely reduced number of participants safely socially distanced from each other. Quiet disciplined order give an extra sense of dignity to the occasion. This kind of social demonstration in a time of grave crisis and national lock-down is what characterises the United Kingdom rather than new footage of boozed up crowds thronging the streets of Soho, on the last night before pubs closed for the duration of the latest restrictions.
Beforehand, we logged into Facebook separately to watch the Parish Eucharist being celebrated from the Rectory this morning. Both of us had connectivity problems, picture freezing, or picture running without sound. It was most frustrating and distracting from prayer at a distance. Was this our internet connection playing up or an issue at source? Clare later heard from others on the Parish social network that we were not alone in experiencing this. I wish the Benefice would invest in proper digital streaming devices and a proper dedicated streaming web platform, not just get by with fancy phones and Facebook, which not all recipients trust or like using. It's hardly friendly to new users whose internet usage is limited.
It's time to get used to the prospect of on-line broadcast services will be with us for the future. Even if the majority are eventually able to return to regular public worship, there will still be housebound people who want to continue benefiting from a local church service in a place they love, in a way they never could before.
My personal phone was switched off for charging for much of the day, and when I turned it on I found a text message from the Covid Test and Trace centre saying that my test was returned negative. Having been symptom free throughout the year, and living in quarantine or under restrictions much of the time for safety's sake, I was pretty confident that I had remained virus free throughout. So now due diligence has been satisfied, the op can go ahead on Tuesday. The text message delivered a code to insert into the NHS app on my phone, which I did, conscientiously, only to be informed in best big government Web-2 graphics that I didn't have the virus. What Ashley would call 'belt 'n braces' info, I think!
In the evening we had a family Zoom call with Rachel and Jasmine to celebrate her 47th birthday tomorrow, and Jasmine's 14th on Thursday this week. I watched the last episode of 'Roadkill' on iPlayer afterwards. I found the ending somewhat obscure. The dodgy popular politician anti-hero makes it to be prime minister and doesn't get the comeuppance he deserves. His mistress dumps him, he owns up to a grown up love child, and his wife who has been party to his secret perversion of the course of justice, withholds the means to a cover-up to keep him on a tight leash, while both enjoy the privileges of life at Number 10 Downing Street.
It seems each of the characters portrayed in the 'Westminster bubble' has something incriminating on someone else, but don't use it in order not risk losing their own privileges and status. Whether that is truth telling fiction, but it's impossible not to see Boris Johnston as a model for the main character. I wonder if this is a first series with another to follow? Often it seems these days a serialised story ends on a note that allows for the possibility of a sequel, even when one isn't planned.
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