Three dimensional ethics

After breakfast this morning, I worked on editing and condensing on next week's reflections for a couple of hours, then went for a pre-lunch turn around the park. I'm amazed at the growth of the French Beans planted three days ago. One of the six hasn't sprouted at all, a fifth is starting to emerge three days behind the others. Will it end up doing as well? We'll see.

More good news about the continued reduction in covid infections and deaths over the past week. This is a review following the easing of restrictions in England five weeks ago, and shows no infection set-back has occurred as a result.  This has been sustained both due to over half the country being once vaccinated and a third vaccinated twice, plus social distancing and other precautions still being followed by many. It's so good to see pubs and restaurants opening for outdoor service. 

I was particularly pleased to see that the tiny St Canna's Ale house on Llandaff Road has transformed its back yard in recent weeks with the addition of a solid canopy sheltering all the yard area at a three metre height above ground. I think this is a far sighted investment by a popular real ale pub with a substantial following. 

Most places have gone for tents or umbrellas within enclosed serving areas. Heaneys, our local nouvelle cuisine restaurant with its own cocktail bar-cum-cafe next door has canopied its car park. The building was once a paint store, with huge shop windows and a narrow forecourt, where clients parked off road. Not the most congenial of dining environments even after an extensive makeover. The forecourt is fenced off now with outdoor tables under big umbrellas and flowering plant pots punctuating the enclosure line. The shop windows no longer detracts from its appearance. It's somehow more inviting now. I wish them success in the bounce back to normality. The pandemic has really changed the ambience of city centre and Pontcanna streets for the better.

After lunch I drove Clare over to Cathays to the University Optometrists to collect her new varifocal specs which look very good on her, and deliver a hoped for improvement, given the slow deterioration of her eyesight. She's been for a DVLA mandated two-eyes field of vision test at Specsavers this week, and now we wait to hear whether the results will permit her to hold a license or not.

Then, another walk down to the river and back before supper and this week's episode of 'New Amsterdam', which was all about the ethics and values behind crowd funding for medical aid for patients who couldn't afford life saving treatments. A discussion of the issues in an essay wouldn't be nearly as engaging as a well thought out film script in the hands of the right director. The argument in words may be something any reasonable person could follow, but a movie condenses and symbolises the issues in a way that allows the reason, imagination and critical faculties of a recipient to engage with. It provokes genuine discussion over values we can identify with. We need all the tools we can find to help us analyse and think creatively

WNO anniversary milestone

Last night we agreed that the holiday letting we fancy booking is an apartment overlooking Aberaeron harbour. There was a glitch when Clare tried to book on-line, so I rang up this morning and was pleased to find the place was still available. The letting company Wales Cottage Holidays uses a simple payment system working on any 'phone with a tone dial keypad. It's good for those who are unable to pay on-line, and resembles the remote banking transaction system used in parts of Africa, where usable internet is scarce but landlines or more likely, Nokia type mobile phones are commonplace. We've booked for late June, to be on the safe side given that my op is at the end of May. We've visited Aberaeron before when holidaying in Ceredigion. It's a long wait, but something lovely to look forward to.

There were fifteen of us at St John's for the midweek Eucharist I celebrated this morning. Walking home with Fr Benedict afterwards, I discovered that one of his passions is the history of liturgical development. In fact, he's doing a PhD on early Christian eucharistic prayers, and how understanding them has evolved over the past half century. This was something I also found interesting when I was studying for ordination, so I look forward to reading his work when he eventually publishes it.

We had blue sky clouds and rain showers today, and fortunately not when I walked in the park after lunch. I got back at four in time for a Zoom session put on by the Welsh National Opera, reviewing the seventy five years of its life, celebrating its remarkable evolution from a small group of keen amateur singers and musicians, which held its inaugural meeting in a Crwys Road chapel at the end of the war, to a world class professional touring company with its own full time chorus and orchestra. 

It was a delightful hour's watching with the WNO's archivist telling the story and former musical directors being interviewed, and telling anecdotes. The best true story was about a pioneering visit to the former German Democratic Republic, during the Cold War. Somebody joked about the need to omit punctuation from performance related documents, liberetti and technical schedules and notes, just in case the Stasi held up the documents, vetting them scrupulously for embedded microdots. The administrator took it seriously and to everyone's astonishment produced punctuation free paperwork. This occurred in the days before word processors. Imagine!  

This evening we sat together and listened to Oscar Peterson, and Miles Davis albums, and I drafted the last couple of Rogationtide reflections for next week. In many ways listening to jazz takes me back to my youth as much if not more than listening to sixties pop songs. It's far richer and diverse musically than pop songs (few of whose lyrics I can ever remember completely) and like opera, has far more meaning for me. I'm so glad that i grew up in a family with such broad musical tastes. Dad was always contemptuous about the new wave of rock and pop music when I was growing up. I think I understand why now. 

 

Holiday planning

The day started cold and cloudy, then the rain came mid-morning and persisted until early evening, making it was cold as February again. Meanwhile, overnight, French beans which Clare planted in a seed tray on her work station have completely emerged in just fifteen hours. Four out of the six seeds are now poking their heads out of the compost. I'm amazed at their rate of growth, and for amusement am taking photos of these first stages.

There were nine of us at St Catherine's for the midweek Eucharist. Mother Emma has agreed to collect me from Llandough after the operation, if Clare is no longer allowed to drive, after her field of vision test this morning. On return from church there was a voicemail from the other Emma, Euro-diocese locum coordinator, in response to my email about the aborted safeguarding seminar. She's in the throes of moving house at the moment, so we will talk again next week when she's back at her desk.

In the news today, a report about follow up research on recipients of the Oxford AZ vaccine. As well as offering a high level of protection from serious illness, it seems that about half the people who get re-infected don't pass the virus on to others. In other words, virus contagion is significantly reduced by the very fact of getting vaccinated. This is certainly good news in terms of curbing the pandemic. It's good to see that India is now getting international support with medical equipment, oxygen and vaccine supplies. 

It's ironic that India's vaccine production industry is one of the largest in the world, no doubt a good income generator, but currently it's short of vaccines for domestic use, having seriously underestimated the scale of the problem it is now facing, not least because covid deaths have been widely under-reported, and the full scale of the Indian epidemic my never be known. This is really bad news, as inaccurate data make it so much harder to monitor the situation and plan an effective response.

Clare has been spending a lot of spare time this past few days researching holiday cottages, so that we can take a week off in July after the operation. There are a lot of places to choose from at off-peak times, and it's hard to decide what will best suit our needs, except it should be near the sea. 

Talking of expenditure, I renewed the car insurance with Aviva this morning, eleven pounds more than last year, but I expect to pay a bit more, being the age I am, regardless of an accident free record over the past twenty five years or so. Aviva's website is a model of clarity, and the payment process was simple. Would that all web commerce had such high standards.

I walked in the rain to Beanfreaks after lunch to collect our special weekly grocery order, and later went out again for a walk in the park, this time wearing rain trousers. The rain slowed to a drizzle and stopped in the hour I was out, but it was still very chilly. I felt very resentful. It should be much milder so near the end of April.

After supper, I watched telly for a couple of hours. There was a documentary about police corruption in London in the 1970s and 80s. Apart from film footage of some of the now elderly police officers who were aware of what went on and tried to speak out, most of its was selected from newsreel footage of the era, an interesting reminder of how London has changed, but also a reminder of how accustomed we have become to high quality digital movie footage in the new millennium. Video newsreel footage of the era isn't sharp, it's even fuzzy almost out of focus sometimes, and the colours are over-saturated. You notice the difference between this and digitized black and white newsreel footage, much sharper unless its from a super eight home movie camera.

Creative spurt

Thanks to a gentle flow of ideas, I spent much of the day writing my next round of reflections for the Parish WhatsApp prayer group. A letter confirming my surgery appointment arrived in the lunchtime mail. Unlike previous ones it's an morning rendezvous, 7.30am. I'll have to take a taxi to Llandough, as Clare may not be cleared to drive me there, if her field of vision test turns out unfavourably. I had to ring up and confirm acceptance, as the procedure now includes a covid test before three days self isolation. 

Jackie came over for lunch in the garden. She moves house to Stroud in a couple of week's time, and is currently waiting somewhat nervously for the sale formalities to be completed. At 78 she's uprooting for the first time in twenty years, moving away from friends to be nearer family. Quite a challenge.

Later on I walked, first around Thompson's Park and Llandaff Fields before tea, then continued writing reflections, before and after supper. To clear my head before bed, I went for a short walk around the block and realised that tomorrow is rubbish collection day, so I put out the recycling and organic waste bags, a job Clare usually remembers before I do, but tonight she was in the lounge absorbed in listening to an album of Art Tatum playing piano. It's what she needs to do as she gets to grips with playing by ear and improvising jazz. It's great that she does this.

Yesterday she planted some beans in a seed tray and by this evening a couple were poking their heads out of the compost, so I took close up photos with three different  cameras for comparison. It wasn't as easy as I imagined with different lenses. Hand held close ups can be as difficult to get sharp pictures of as distant telephoto subjects. Working at both ends of the lens range may well be more effective with the camera on a tripod using the timer. Lesson learned.

Op date assigned

I was just about to settle down to say morning prayer in honour of St Mark the Evangelist this morning when I received a 'phone call from the hospital. The anaesthetist had already read Saturday's pre-op report and added me to the day surgery schedule for May 28th. Now at last we can plan a week's holiday because we know where we stand. A cottage by the sea, early June in West Wales is what we're hoping to book. 

Another glorious sunny day today, with curried lentils, rice and veg for lunch in the garden. Then I walked into he city centre to take photos on this much awaited day when it became permissible to eat and drink at tables outdoors once more. i can't say that every open establishment was crowded with people queuing for a table, but it was fairly busy, you could say as busy as you might expect on an ordinary Monday. It's nice to have photos that contrast with those take when the centre was deserted for so long due to lock-down.

It's tragic to see the pandemic raging out of control in India, people dying in the streets waiting for treatment at overwhelmed hospitals lacking in oxygen to keep sick people alive. Just as covid deaths are reducing to single figues per day here, they are reaching a couple of thousand a day in India, with a third of a million new infections as day. The country caught unprepared for this huge surge in numbers, and Narendra Modhi's government has a lot to answer for.

I spent the evening watching episodes of NCIS that I haven't seen before from the more recent series. Then there was a full moon to gaze at, brushed lightly with high cirrus cloud. I'm not expecting great things from the photos I took, but it was lovely to look at above the roof tops. It made me remember the three full moons I saw in a crystal a clear pollution free sky last year in the countryside in locked down Ibiza.

Avian surprises

I drove to Saint German's after breakfast to celebrate the Parish Eucharist. It's the first time in eighteen months. It was wonderful to be reunited with a congregation I got to know well and love during the years I spent with them on locum duties. Fr Phelim was taking services in Grangetown, but I had the support of his two ordinands on placement, Natasha and Ross, to brief me. The sun shone and lit the interior of the church during the Mass. Ross acted as thurifer, and Natasha was sub-deacon, and deejay, controlling from her phone via bluetooth the four selected hymns of the day to be listened to rather than sung under current restrictions, with some suitable extra music to fill in when the hymns were too short to cover the action. It worked very well. The investment made by the church in a state of the art karioki device is proving worth while, though I'm glad someone else was managing this and not me! 

There were just over thirty present, all the regular congregation members outlasted the pandemic so far, and much work has been done in the time since I was last there - new church central heating, stainless steel aisle roofing replacing the lead cover which kept being stolen, new church hall heating and toilets. The old people's drop-in centre didn't survive the pandemic. Numbers dropped, not least because some of the regulars died. Transport costs rose, making the project unsustainable for the few remaining, sadly. A plan is afoot to develop a play group with mothers and babies once the covid restrictions come to an end.

Before I left, Phelim returned and we chatted briefly outside. As the new ministry area leader, he will be relinquishing charge of St German's to Roath ministry area. I'm hoping that if help is needed in future, I will get more opportunities to return and make myself useful, but that'll be next year.

We had lunch in the garden again, and after a siesta, I went out for a walk which took me down the path alongside the Taff, through the woods next to the horse paddock. There for the first time I caught sight of the resident bird of prey, perched in a tree, possibly a buzzard or a hobby, and took several photos, none were especially good, as I wasn't using one of my decent telephoto lenses, but it was the first time I had got within twenty metres of one hereabouts. 

Just below Blackweir bridge a little later, I caught sight of a flock of birds that behaved like swifts, but after a discussion with a fellow birdwatcher, conclude they may have been House Martins hunting for insects above the river, as their undersides were pale all over. Then for the second time this weekend I saw a small flock of starlings feeding on the grass. They are often to be heard in the trees around the park, or even in our local streets, but they seem to go elsewhere to feed for much of the year.

In the evening I had a call from Fr Paul Bigmore who retired from ministry in the diocese four years ago and now lives in Riverside, but is housebound following a bout of covid last year. He's a keen hymnodist, who has written texts for well over a hundred hymns, composed music for some of them and published a book of his own work. He's now working on producing another one. To have a creative project like this must be a consolation when his ministerial activity has been so severely curtailed in this way.

The penultimate episode of 'Line of Duty' tonight, another cliffhanger containing an intense long interview sequence. It's still impossible to work out how this series will end. Or will it?

Assessment appointment

A lovely sunny day again, starting with a lie-in and pancakes for breakfast, made this week with gluten free buckwheat flour, as an experiment. It was a great success, they were very tasty! 

I walked over to the Heath Hospital for my pre-op assessment. I wasn't given a date, as the assessor's report has to be okayed by an anaesthetist on Monday. Then I'll be sent an operation date. In preparation this time I'll only have to self-isolate for three days and be covid tested before being operated upon. 

I walked back home, after the hour long assessment, arriving just in time for lunch in the sunshine in the garden. We both had a siesta, then walked over to Bute Park to wander through the woods beside the Taff. Wild garlic and bluebells are now out in abundance, replacing the daffodils and varieties of narcissii which thrive in abundance beneath the trees. When we arrived home my Fitbit told me I'd walked over 20,000 paces, just under ten miles. That's a first for me, and I'm neither foot-sore nor exhausted as a result. Slowly my stamina is improving.

Water in the river Taff is very low, revealing lengthy stony reaches along the banks where some of the many hundreds out picnicking in the parks, are enjoying the water and lighting fires. Yesterday kids were jumping and somersaulting off the bridge into the short stretch of water under the bridge which is perhaps five feet deep - a supper ritual for adolescents ever since the bridge was constructed. Today, a police van was out. All but one of the kids had disappeared. Just one was swimming about defiantly upstream, being 'observed' by a masked policeman from the bridge. I couldn't imagine the copper wading in and making an arrest! A man was approaching the bridge from the Bute Park side with his three year old daughter. She eyed the stony stretch below the bridge on the other and exclaimed "Daddy, is that a beach over there?"

Before supper I finished my sermon for St German's tomorrow, then we watched a movie called 'Goodbye Christopher Robin', about the relationship between A A Milne, author of 'Winnie the Pooh' and his son Billy, and how the books came to be written around the various characters of the child's animal soft toys in the 1920. It made Billy aka 'Christopher Robin' into an unwitting child celebrity which has a negative impact on his life as he grew up. The author suffered from PTSD after returning from the World War One, and saw his son join the army, go missing and eventually return home safe and sound, no longer resenting the loss of his childhood, but realising how much his father's books held treasured childhood memories of normality for some of his comrades in arms. A fascinating true story.

V-2 day

A lovely bright sunny morning for our car journey to Cardiff's football stadium grounds for our second covid inoculation. In contrast to the wintry grey overcast morning of out first jab visit. On the Today programme we heard from Professor Sarah Walker of the national covid infection survey research project. She reported on findings from people tested after vaccination, illustrating how mass vaccination is paying off in the population in terms of sustained high antibody levels after single and double doses. Along with continuing precautions, restrictions, test and trace, this is fast driving down infection and death rates. 

And on this day of good cheer, excellent news of the development of a much more potent anti-malarial vaccine. Roughly half to three quarters of a million people have died of malaria annually for decades, if a more effective vaccine is rolled out globally, it will transform the health and economy of many poor tropical countries.

The speed and efficiency of the UK vaccine roll-out has helped enormously. But she also presented facts that warn us against complacency. Once vaccinated you can still get covid infected a second time, albeit a milder dose, which might still make you a carrier of contagion if you're unaware of being infected. It may be a one in fifty chance of this occurring instead of one in five let's say, but this could trigger off another spike in infections if not nipped in the bud. 

The epidemic may be on its way out, but the virus will still be endemic; i.e. not totally eliminated, and therefore some level of on-going precaution will be required. like mask wearing and social distancing in enclosed public spaces. In many South East Asian countries this became habitual in any case decades ago, during the SARS pandemic, and helps to explain why their covid infection rates have been low in comparison to others. The 'new normal' is going to include mask wearing, like it or not.

We shared in cooking a pizza for an early lunch, which turned out superbly thanks to perfect dough made by Clare. Then I drove to Thornhill for the funeral at which I was to officiate. The hearse arrived just in time, instead of being ten to fifteen minutes early, which is normal - due to sporadic traffic congestion as a result of city centre restrictions on all but public transport along Castle Street. Both my journeys today, at the same time as on Wednesday this week, were un-delayed, unlike Wednesday. It's not sol easy to predict and plan journeys around the city as it was previously.

When I got home afterwards, I went for my daily walk. Kath called me and we chatted for half an hour. Then I settled down to catch up on writing emails to people from whom I have heard recently, but been too busy to respond to. After supper, another episode of 'New Amsterdam', more photos to upload and edit, and then bed.

Congestion miscalculation

I went to bed far too late last night and woke up having lost at least an hour's sleep. These days I find that I don;t get along so well on less than eight hours a night.

The bright sunny blue sky weather continues, but it's deceptive. I went out without a top coat and hat to walk down to St John and celebrate the Eucharist this morning, and felt the impact of a chilling breeze. The loss of sleep affected me as well. At the beginning of the service I twice reverted to the modern language rite instead of the traditional one mid-sentence! I had to re-start the Gloria, as people were rather confused, but thereafter I was OK. The funny experience gave me a pretext to talk about how the Word is communicated despite language confusion and even through faltering broken speech, thanks to the Spirit speaking heart to heart, whatever else is going on.  

Again we were thirteen people. We would have been fourteen, but one lady came, and as she was getting water to freshen up the flowers, she dropped her hearing aid into the sink, and was compelled to return home and dry it out immediately, hoping that it wasn't by damaged by the inundation. She has difficulty hearing, even with a hearing aid. It's one of the trials of old age which so far I have been spared, except for the occasional miserable wax blockage. 

With Clare in school this morning, I cooked lunch on returning home, and then had an hour and a half of a siesta which perked me up, ready for my walk in the park. Opposite the riding centre stables is a very rich area of well cared for mature allotments. It hosts many different garden bird species, more than any other part of the green zone at the heart of the city. It's a real treat to stand under the trees by the hedgerow and listen to chaffinches, wrens, robins, blackbirds, thrushes, starlings plus other birds singing I still cannot identify. I made me appreciate just how fortunate I am still to enjoy good hearing. I had a few good lucky bird photos too. This one was the best: a missel thrush, I think.

Having had a moan about traffic congestion caused by Castle Street restrictions yesterday, I was pleased to see an article on just this subject posted on this morning's Wales Online website. I must get busy and write to Caro Wild our local ward councillor who has been involved in road management changes this past year. While the objective is to reduce pollution in city centre hot-spots the solutions tried so far simply lead to the distribution of congestion and queues to other inner city zones, with longer journeys and delays leading to more pollution distributed more widely but a general increase in the carbon foot of city traffic associated with slow moving traffic.

With preparations for tomorrow's funeral complete after supper, I decided to go to bed really early, relax and watch a couple of episodes of 'Non Uccidere', in an effort to catch up of missed sleep. Hopefully I'll be on better form tomorrow, when we're having our second covid jabs just after ten. It's terrible to see the rate of virus spread in India at the moment a third of a million a day in the absence of universal lock-down (maybe impossible to enforce anyway) plus the continuation of mass gatherings for pilgrimage rituals and political rallies. Inadequate reporting of fatalities in some impoverished regions may mean that the true scale of covid deaths may never be known. 

Mass religious gatherings would be hard to stop anyway, as pious people are often stubborn with it, but political rallies could simply be cancelled by the prime minister. It's hard to fathom such foolishness, and we've seen so much of this in the past year. So many avoidable deaths ultimately due to egotistical populist leadership.

Traffic impact

This morning we both had early appointments at the University Optometrists in Cathays for our annual eye tests. We decided to drive the shortest route through the city centre, as I thought that Castle Street had been re-opened to all two way traffic, but discovered that it's restricted to buses and taxis. It's no wonder there's s little traffic along there. We had to divert down Westgate Street and through Callaghan Square and Churchill Way to reach Park Place. Instead of taking five minutes, by the shortest route it took us twenty five minutes, and we were late. This road closure adds twenty minutes to the journey from Pontcanna to Cathays. It would have been the same if we'd driven to our destination by way of Western Avenue and North Road. It's sheer stupidity. Quite apart from time wasted, this added twenty minutes of extra fossil fuel consumption adds to our carbon footprint. Next time, we'll walk for forty minutes across the parks to Cathays instead.

Ceri, the optometrist who examined me, couldn't complete the planned examination of the interior of my eyes, as my cataracts are now too advanced to permit a clear enough diagnostic photograph. Unfortunately apart from this my vision hasn't deteriorated much at all. I don't even need to have new glasses. The triage of people in need of cataract removal operations won't rate me as a priority. If I were to get on the waiting list with Ceri's special pleading, after a more sophisticated eye scan at the beginning of June, I'd still be at the bottom of a ninety week list of patients in need of the operation. I could pay to have it done privately, but if I did, that would be money we didn't have available if either of us urgently needed a new knee or hip replacement. It's what happens if you don't have a big pension pot. At least I can still see to read, drive and take photos. although in certain light conditions this is getting quite difficult.

When we got back I cooked an early lunch for us, then headed off to Thornhill to take a funeral. In her early eighties the lady whose funeral it was moved from Hull, where she'd lived her entire life, to be close to her daughter and her grandson, living in Cardiff. She settled down and made friends here, and attended church in Llanishen. Her daughter brought along three Palm Crosses and planted them in the wreath of yellow roses on her mother's coffin. A small but touching tribute to a woman whose faith mattered to her.

I drove home through slow moving traffic that builds up every afternoon when schools finish. The road above Llandaff Fields is always congested around this time because parents come to Howells School to collect their children, many turning right, crossing the traffic stream to enter the school grounds. This is a busy north south-road for much of the day. It's destined to get as new housing areas being built on the edge of Cardiff are occupied without additional roads to support an increase of commuter traffic into the city. 

Over decades, no effort has been made to resolve this particular persistent term time obstacle to the flow of traffic, adding more pollution and increasing the city's carbon footprint. I dread to think what it's going to be like in five years time, whether or not we see a real increase in numbers of electric cars. A year of covid lock-downs and home schooling emptied the roads of traffic, making it quite pleasant to live around here ad interim. The 'new normal' looks a lot like the old normal to me at the moment. Congestion from cleaner cars is still congestion, time wasted getting from A to B because public transport and roads still fall short of what the city needs to thrive.

I walked over to the Aldi store on Western Avenue when I got home, to buy some interesting reasonably priced wine. The route from the University Campus in Cathays to halls of residence in Gabalfa has, over the past year, been upgraded. There's now a two metre pedestrian pavement and a three meter cycle path side by side running for a couple of kilometres. It could do with being better lit, but gives the impression of being safer and more modern an environment for students to walk or cycle back and forth to classes. 

On the way there I met Gareth from church who, seeing my camera, said the Blackweir heron wasn't around, but when crossed the bridge, I spotted the bird in the position it has taken up for the past three days, at the little waterfall next to the fish ladder. I was thrilled with the photos I got, thanks to my new Olympus telephoto lens. This one one of my favourites.

After supper, with nothing better to do I watched a couple of episodes of 'Non Uccidere'. Step by step the dramatic back story of the chief detective around whom the series is constructed, is revealed. It's all taking too long really, even if the murder cases in each episode cast a rather dark light on northern Italian society.

Encouraging news

After breakfast this morning I had a phone call from the appointments office in UHW Heath to ask I could take a pre-op assessment this Saturday morning. A delightful surprise and and indication of my surgeon's commitment to resume normal activities as soon as possible. Determination in the face of a nightmare of a backlog of patients needing treatment if news reports are to be relied upon. If all is well on Saturday I may even get an appointment for my final round of surgery.

Recently, in our area many building companies are working on houses. It's consequence of people having to stay at home during lock-down and not spending much, so money saved gets spend sooner or later on jobs needing to be done or major home improvements. A house opposite in our street has been undergoing a substantial loft conversion for several weeks now, taking advantage of the dry weather, and it's nearly complete. The house changed hands a few months ago and couple moved in that until today I haven't seen let alone meet. Pascal is from Nantes and Miriam from Bilbao. She and Clare got to talk in the street because she'd seen me out and about in my Basque beret, bought in Bilbao back to 2009. 

When I got back from my walk of the day, Clare introduced me to Miriam on the street. We chatted in Spanish, occasionally lapsing into English and even French, covering a wide range of subject for over an hour. On my own doorstep, I get to use the Spanish I have learned over the past nine years more than I have done in all my time among expats in Spain. Wonderful! One of God's little surprises, just as I strive to get used to not being able to travel in Spain again.

The new phones we bought last week don't include an answering machine. I needed to get TalkTalk to activate the native answering service. When I visited their website, I discovered that our contract had just expired. I set a phone notification eighteen months ago last time I renewed it, but it hasn't yet arrived. So I did what was necessary, and then tried to find out how to switch on the answering service. I had to resort to usng Twitter's instant messaging service, like I used last time I had a broadband malfunction, and had an exchange with one of their helpline people. The first time I tried, the system wasn't working properly as it was still updating my subscription renewal, but the second time, it did work. That was how I discovered that using TalkTalk's answering service will cost me an extra pound a month. Altogether with my renewed contract, I'll be paying fifty three pounds a month. It works pretty well. Is there better value for money out there? Maybe, but what I have is consistence and continuity where I need it most.

Next up, car insurance renewal at the end of the month. Another tenner on the premium if i pay on-line, but then, I am a year older now, and no matter what my record or how careful I am, the more I am seen as a liability by underwriters. Given how little we use the car these days, using a taxi when we need it would probably be less expansive than have a depreciating asset in need of maintenance parked outside the door.

Conservation Art

Another bright day to delight in, with a walk in the park before cooking lunch. I've got a little learning project going at the moment, taking photos of the spire of Llandaff Cathedral from the far end of the park with three different cameras and five telephoto lenses. I'm curious about what lenses 'see' in both similar and different lighting conditions, how colour and sharpness vary. There's much I can learn best by doing and diligent observation, I think it's worth the effort.

After a post lunch siesta I walked down to Cardiff Castle to take a look at the huge shiny sculpture by Sarah Wardlaw of a red kite exhibited outside the main gate. It's a symbol representing RSPB Cymru, and is placed there at the launch of a conservation campaign entitled 'Revive our World'. In the run up to the Senedd elections in two weeks time, RSPB Cymru is calling upon the next Welsh government to implement a green recovery plan, in response to the climate and ecosystem crisis the world faces. 

The red kite symbolises what becomes possible when people really care about nature. Over the past thirty years, this kingpin species of raptor has gone from near extinction to 2,500 breeding pairs in Wales, thanks to the initial passion of one mid Wales farmer whose kite feeding program caught the imagination of many and ended up becoming a local visitor attraction. East Anglia has seen significant growth in the numbers of breeding avocets, which had suffered for centuries due to draining of coastal saline ecosystems. Work to restore these in designated conservation areas has resulted in a reversal of decline. The avocet with its long legs and turned up bill is the English RSPB totem species.

It's just occurred to me, this is the first time in several years that I've posted a photo to this blog. I used to add photos often, especially when I was abroad on locum duty, and I had time to spare to download, edit and re-size a photo to the correct size for this purpose. The process could be rather fiddly if I had first to edit and transfer a picture from another device, and did it less frequently when I was busy, and then got out of the habit altogether. I don't exactly know know when it happened, but only recently have I noticed a change in the file management user interface which the Chromebook uses to display photos. There used to be basic editing tools as part of it, but if needs be, it was better to use a proper web app like Pixlr to re-size a photo accurately. I've just discovered that this can be done using what Chrome itself provides, this makes adding photos to a Blogger post smooth and seamless. It's a much appreciated improvement to workflow.

Profisciere

A weekend of gloriously sunny weather continued today. We went to the Parish Eucharist at St Catherine's and again there were thirty adults and half a dozen children present. After the service, I was able to make contact with the next of kin I needed to speak to in order to prepare the second funeral service I will be officiating at this week. Another service for an octogenarian who was a child in Cardiff during the Blitz, who lived most of her life in the next street over from where she was born. It's hard to imagine that could happen in Britain today.

We had lunch in the garden as it was warm enough, then a siesta, followed by a walk in the park and down to the river. The cricket pitches were busy with practice matches, and the temporary practice nets structure appeared and was in use in a corner of the field nearest the tennis courts. Another wave of trees are blossoming as the first wave sheds petals and sprouts leaves. It's amazing to see how much growth there has been in leaf cover in just the past few days, yet half of the trees have no leaves at all and buds are yet to burst or flower. I don;t suppose I have ever spent so much time observing the arrival of spring in such wonderful detail.

After an absence of a month or longer, there's a heron perched near the fish ladder at Blackweir Bridge, on the lookout for food. I also caught sight of a wagtail on the river bank downstream from the weir, and for the first time got lucky with a decent sharp photograph taken with my new Olympus zoom lens, which is a pleasure to use. It was rather puzzling to identify as it has grey chest plumage fading to yellow around the bottom half and legs. Is it a grey or a yellow wagtail, or a hybrid?

Clare and I chatted with sister in law Ann about Prince Philip's funeral, impressed as we were by both the content and the beautifully orchestrated choreography of the hundreds of participants. Ann observed that when the prayer 'Go forth Christian soul...' was said by Archbishop Justin, the Prince's coffin disappeared from sight. I wondered if this moment had been edited out of the recording we watched later in the evening, but it seems that the catafalque was positioned on top of a neat platform lift, to lower the coffin straight into the undercroft of St George's Chapel, where other royals are laid to rest.

The 'Profiscere' prayer as the 'Go forth' Latin text is called, is a sending off prayer which belongs with the Last Rites prayers said as person dies, but it fitted in this context. It's perhaps better known to music lovers as a text used by Edward Elgar in 'The Dream of Gerontion'. I noticed there was no prayer of Committal in the liturgy broadcasted, and wondered why, but learning about the coffin lift, helped me make sense of proceedings. The public service ended, then the Royal Family members descended to the undercroft with the clergy, where the Committal prayer would be said as the Prince's coffin was put in its resting place. When the Queen dies, Prince Phillip's remains will be moved to wherever she is laid to rest, and that will be where their shared tomb and memorial will be erected.

After supper, we watched an episode of 'Call the Midwife' together, which combined insights into the impact of Pacific nuclear testing on service personnel and their families, with an elderly nun experiencing what she describes as 'the dark night of the soul'. Set in the year we got married, it was very evocative of our shared experience of life and its concerns in those days. Then another episode of 'Line of Duty' ending with another cliffhanger, and more plot twists and turns than you can count. The story line had a strong elements of the Stephen Lawrence case, and the murder of the Maltese investigative journalist Daphne Caruana Galizia. a couple of years ago. Enough to keep the media commentariat busy for another week until the next episode, no doubt!

Late birthday excursion

A beautiful blue sky sunny day for Prince Philip's funeral at St George's Windsor, and for our train trip to Cheltenham to meet with Owain, Kath Anto and Rhiannon, for a belated birthday picnic party in a park. We walked to the station in good time to catch at train that got us to Cheltenham at midday. We met Owain fifteen minutes later arriving on a train from Bristol, then walked to one of the town's parks, Montpellier Gardens, where we waited for the others to arrive from Kenilworth. They came by car and had to use one of the town centre car parks and walk from there to meet us, so it was one thirty by the time we met them.

It's the first family gathering (in person with big hugs) that we've had since Oxwich Bay last August. The weather was kind to us and we were able to sit out on the grass and eat our picnic comfortably and talk of the past year's events for a couple of hours. Then we walked to the town centre enjoying the atmosphere of crowds of people out in numbers for the first time since Christmas last. Pubs and restaurants are now open here to serve clients outdoors, and some had long queues of people in the street outside, waiting for a free table. Very few people were wearing masks or properly observing social distancing, perhaps they were in social bubbles and feeling able to stand that close to others.

Before we left the park a Police mobile CCTV van arrived and parked on the main thoroughfare, hoisting its 10m telescopic pole with camera mounted on top of it. We could see no uniformed officers patrolling on foot anywhere in the park, but the entire area was obviously under surveillance. I could see no evidence of misbehaviour or suspicious activity. It's clear that in some public spaces have witnessed crowds of people gathering, partying and leaving a dreadful mess behind even with uniformed police attending. Was the CCTV van there to deter the dozens of family sized groups from creating havoc? A couple of officers on foot patrol would have been preferable, as people are used to this and the officers can be asked what their duties are. As for the camera on a pole and no police officers publicly visible, I think that's sinister and a bit threatening.

We parted company at four thirty and caught a train at five fifteen. Owain accompanied us as far as Gloucester where he left us in the hope of getting a connecting train to Bristol somewhat earlier than the next long distance train for which he'd have to wait an hour. In our train carriage were two men our age, drinking orange juice from plastic bottles, and lacing it with spirits, not allowed on board, but they carried on defiantly, lowering their masks and chatting loudly, amongst other things about climate change. Both of them were 'deniers', as well as having spurious ideas about the unhealthiness of mask wearing. They drew into conversation a young student from Nottingham on her way back to Swansea where she's studying Zoology, aiming to become a conservationist. She politely disagreed with their views and behaved in a way that was a real credit to her generation. 

I didn't have the energy or the wit to debate with the guys and stayed out of the conversation. People pick up all sorts of half formed ideas from the internet or tabloid media, and don't fully understand the scientific evidence surrounding climate change, simply because they cannot interpret for themselves statistical evidence involving large numbers and trends. Not everybody is willing to take seriously what David Attenborough or Greta Thunberg have to say. It's only when crisis has a personal impact that it gets taken really seriously. Events change minds more than arguments.

We arrived home at seven and Clare quickly organised supper of rice and peas with mussels in a white wine sauce, a new favourite of ours. Then we watched an edited recording of  Prince Phillip's funeral, so well conceived and carried out with dignity and precision, with hundreds of members of the armed forces involved in escort duties and music making, plus the Dean of Windsor and the Archbishop of Canterbury, all giving of their best to support the thirty members of the Royal Family, everyone masked and socially distanced in an exemplary manner. 

The national one minute silence was observed when the Prince's coffin had been carried shoulder high half way up the steps to St George's chapel west door, at the interface between the household of faith and the wider world of nation and Commonwealth. I found it most moving and appropriate. And I can imagine Prince Phillip had, as reported, been thinking about this and planning it over the past twenty-five years. It is being said how unique and original was his contribution to national and international life, but in a way he embodied the best attitudes, values and standards of service to others that all can take pride in. Who will take his place?

A new kind of ethical dilemma

Another bright cold sunny day, good conditions to try out my new Zoom lens, so I was out walking in the park by ten thirty. It's pleasant to handle and produces the kind of results I hoped for, getting shots of birds high up in trees not yet covered with foliage.

This past couple of weeks the cricket pitches in both parks have been mown and boundaries marked. One group of amateur cricketers I saw were in the throes of learning how to assemble a large mobile frame on wheels designed for use as a 'practice nets' structure. There's been the occasional informal match, although how legal that was under covid restrictions I don't know, and almost daily when it's dry small groups are out there practicing bowling, catching or batting. 

As I was walking over Llandaff Fields this morning, the astro-turf wicket was occupied by two guys. One was practicing his batting, but the other wasn't bowling to him in the normal way. He was delivering a white cricket ball to the batsman using the kind of throwing device beloved of dog walkers. The park is rarely without several people making use of this shoulder pain saving device to send a hound speeding off a hundred metres to retrieve a ball. I wonder how easy it is to pitch a cricket ball with speed and accuracy down a twenty metre wicket?

Clare made a pizza for lunch as she was also baking bread and had dough to spare. I went out for another walk after lunch, and then watched New Amsterdam on catch-up. This week an interesting modern dileema was presented in one story line. A young couple meet for the first time and fall in love at College. Some years later as they get ready to be married they both do a DNA test which reveals that by virtue of sperm donation, both have the same father. They are soul mates. What should they do? Marry and keep the fact secret, but adopt children on the grounds that they cannot have children otherwise. It's something I never thought of before. I wonder if it's happened in real life?

I had a phone call from Fr Phelim this afternoon, we've been trying to catch up with each other for the past week or so. I wanted to find out how he was getting on in his new role as Ministry Area Leader, even thought it's still early days. He told me that St German's is going to be in the Roath Ministry Area from the new year onward, and no longer under his watchful eye. St German's is one of the Parishes that remained open for Sunday worship, over the past year, except when it was legally obliged to close, Both St German's and St Saviour's are seeing a return of worshippers in numbers equal to if not greater than before the pandemic, reflecting their history of rootedness in the communities they serve. He's asked me to cover the St German's Sunday Eucharist for him a week Sunday. I'll be very happy to do that. It must be the best part of eighteen months since I was there last.

After supper I binge watched several episodes of 'Non Uccidere' series three in which the mafia background history of the is spun out alongside the weekly case study in dysfunctional family crimes. Some of the stories make me wonder if they reflects modern domestic reality too.

Zoom - but not the digital kind

A lovely sunny day today, but still cold. After a good night's sleep and breakfast, I walked to St John's to celebrate the Eucharist there for the first time since last autumn. It's the first public service to be held here this year too, and a Requiem Mass for Prince Phillip. Fr Benedict shared the liturgy with me and a congregation of eleven regulars a heartening return to regular worship. 

After returning home and cooking lunch, I slept for an hour and a quarter, which surprised me as I didn't feel especially tired. I then walked into town to the Camera Centre to follow up on my Monday visit, and buy a 14-150 telephoto lens for my Olympus camera. I've been mulling over this purchase since before the last lock-down began. My preference for using longer lenses is reflected in the cameras I've bought over the years. This new Olympus lens certainly offers the scope I need. This lens and camera together weigh half as much as the equivalent lens with my DSLR, as well as being physically smaller. In the six months since I bought the Olympus second hand, it's proved to be a camera system worth investing in.

On returning home, I contacted one of the two families for whom I shall be taking a funeral next week, and with the information received, drafted a service for consideration before supper. Afterwards, an hour or so uploading photos into an assortment of subject albums spread across three accounts. It's a fiddly job but worthwhile for easy access, if only my Windows 10 workstation wasn't so slow.

Speaking of which, I read a tech blog post yesterday which got me thinking. 

It spelled out the implications of Microsoft's strategy of moving data and apps to the Cloud and the way it affects the average consumer. The digital architectural design underlying Windows 10 relies not only on internet access speed, but on the memory capacity of the device being used. 4GB memory was worth having for Windows 7 or 8. It was OK when Windows 10 arrived. But no longer. 

I've noticed the progressive slowing down of my Core i3 desktop mini workstation since I bought it five and half years ago. The boot process is slow. Attaching the Cloud file system is slow, and loading files into Open Office or Gimp is slow. All slower than they used to be. It might be faster if I upgraded the RAM to 8GB, or replaced the 1TB hard drive with a smaller SSD, but one way or another it's evidence of ' built-in redundancy' nobody needs

The operating system works better with newer components, not just a faster SSD, but say, 8GB of RAM for my mundane purposes. If I was a business user relying on Microsoft Teams or the likes of Zoom for conferencing, I'd need 16GB of RAM or more to work in a smooth efficient way. Ultimately Windows 10 is designed with this in mind, which means new hardware all round. Well, I guess many companies do this anyway, and it's tax deductible if you need to. But think of the consumption of physical resources which forced upgrading requires. Think of the carbon footprint of all that Cloud server activity, much bigger than we may imagine.

Meanwhile, I can re-cycle my desktop HP Mini using the latest Linux Mint. Even with its existing hard drive it will do everything I need ten times faster than Windows 10, and not give me the same grief about system updating. I can still easily access Cloud applications and data services. The design of Linux is more efficient, even if it doesn't look as sexy. 

I'm rather obliged to maintain a Microsoft platform for easy compatibility with most other users, but for everyday use Linux and Chromebook deliver what I need when I need it and easier. Even on devices that are ten years old. It's ridiculous if you think about it. Crazy to think that the major producers of public digital devices have been conning us for the past quarter century by under-delivering the longevity and reliability many consumers need from an expensive purchase.

Transplant for a friend

It's still cold, but all day it's been pleasantly bright and sunny. I've been asked to celebrate at St John's tomorrow, as Mother Frances is on the sick list with a prolapsed disc that has frozen her shoulder. It will be a Requiem for Prince Phillip. I would have attended anyway, but being asked to offer the Mass is less of duty and more of an honour. I first became aware of him being in the public in the Coronation movie shown to use school kids in Ystrad Mynach cinema, weeks after the event. The striking image of him paying homage to his wife, very proper in terms of the consecration ritual of an hereditary head of state, but oddly counter cultural in those days. He gave his entire life to 'having her back' in the public realm, while being her soul mate and husband in private life. A great role model for anyone with eyes to see.

I went to the Eucharist at St Catherine's this morning, and afterwards collected a couple of pairs of latex gloves, obligatory to use in distributing Communion at present. and as the church hasn't yet resumed regular public services, there may not be a supply of gloves available there. I got caught out with that when I took services there last summer, but was rescued by a member of the congregation who had a spare pair in her car. Getting things perfectly right matters, but the devil as ever is in the detail.

On Monday, Clare's old friend Peter in Hamburg got in touch to say that he was about to undergo a lung transplant. He doesn't know how he came into contact with asbestos fibres, but in recent years the damage to his lungs has shown itself. He's been in hospital since Christmas out of contact with covid, which would have undoubtedly killed him. We were utterly amazed this morning to have a post-op video chat with him. Clare had only just got him on to the parish prayer list! 

The eight hour transplant operation ended at two on Tuesday morning. Instead of days on a knife edge in ICU, the nurses had him out of bed and walking late yesterday. The transplant was it seems. a good match. He said how much he was enjoying breathing fully once more. It was wonderful to see his face and talk with him. Peter reflected on how this was the 60th year since Prof Christian Barnard did the first ever heart transplant in South Africa. The first patient died within hours but, as we say these days, proof of concept allowed the medical team to move from one success to another until now. 

Miracle? Yes. Not the medical science or technology that made it possible, but the union of hearts and minds in medical teamwork that has given new life and hope to so many people over the past sixty years. The work of the Spirit, driving minds and wills to work in most sensitive and challenging circumstances for the good of others. Blessed be God forever! I say.

After cooking lunch, a couple of visits to the shops for groceries this afternoon. It's nice to see other shops opening up again with cheery proprietors smiling and greeting passers by. Clare went into town before lunch, and exchanged the cordless phones I bought yesterday for ones with lower radiation emissions, although we now have two phones instead of three. We got along with just two phones for the past ten years so it doesn't really matter. The new phones will be cleverer, more complex and annoying to program for use no doubt, but that's how it is these days.

Unintended consequences

I drove to Newport at lunchtime today for an appointment with Kay, our family osteomyologist, my first treatment since last summer. Kay has treated all of us at different times over the years. She checked her notes, and we were both surprised to find it's been over the past fifteen years that she's been helping our tense muscles and mis-aligned bones to return to the way they're intended to work. Recently, with the slow closure of my wound, many of the physical stresses on the rest of me seem to have diminished, though it's not stopped me worrying about my neck vertebrae being out of alignment, so this session turned out to be as reassuring as it was therapeutic.

On my way back across Newport, a 'low fuel' indicator light nagged me. I found a supermarket filling station, but to my horror, found I couldn't get the protective flap covering the fuel pipe to open. Something must be jammed I thought, but there was no way I could prise the flap open, and panic set in. I thought the best thing I could do would be to drive on until I could find a garage and get help, risking running out of fuel in the meanwhile. I made it across the conurbation and on to the rural stretch of the A48, a rather safer place to break down if I was going to. 

I passed several filling stations, but these days they have one-stop shops attached to them rather than mechanics' workshops. I made it to Newport Road, a mile away from NG motors garage where the car gets serviced. Indeed, they found it for us. I rang Phil, who told me to look for an emergency cord pull in the boot that would release the flap. I did but none was fitted on such an early version of this model of VW Polo. The last mile'd driving in heavy traffic was un-nerving, but I made it OK. A cheery young mechanic came out and diagnosed the problem in just a few minutes.

It was a case of 'unintended consequences'. Somewhere in its previous history an unresolved fault with the electric windows. After we bought it, the only practical solution to emerge after several attempts to resolve the issue in the absence of spare parts for an eighteen year old car, was to exchange the central locking and window mechanism from the driver's to the passengers side. The available substitute mechanism on the driver's side was one from a passenger side door. It works fine, except that central locking has to be done from the passenger side. This is seldom an issue as Clare and I almost always travel together, and with the development of her glaucoma, I am now the sole driver. 

On this occasion, I drove to Newport alone. The central locking system locks me in while driving. I don't like it, but Clare says it gives a female driver an enhanced sense of security from unwelcome advances from assailants. When I get out of the car all three remaining doors stayed locked. What I didn't know was that embedded in the central locking system is a magnetic device which locks the petrol cap. Normally on a car, the driver would get out to fill up with petrol and the cover flap would automatically unlock, but not on our car, unless Clare is with me and gets out to go and pay, or stretch her legs. We've always been together when visiting a filling station before, and it must be six months since I last bought petrol. From the garage I had a three mile drive on nearly empty to fill up at Pengam Green Tesco's, and made it OK.

Well, now I know what I needed to know, but that was an upsetting nerve wracking experience which took me some time to get over, so I walked later than usual in the day. Coincidentally my two phones and fit-bit all drained of power within the same few hours. As a result my so-called fitness record for yesterday says that I walk less than half of what I actually walked, and only slept for a couple of hours, both of which are untrue. No doubt the analytical algorithm will generate a reproach for being unhealthy, which will annoy me. So many smart info devices that aren't really a match for real experience. Such foolishness to rely on them for anything. 

 

Time zone snafu

It's still cold, but at least it's been sunny and dry today, something for which I was especially grateful as I had a trip to Western Cemetery for a burial after driving to St Luke's to take this morning's funeral, very much a local affair. One of the funeral directors' men and the cemetery worker supervising grave digging had been contemporaries with the deceased in secondary school. Unusually, the family decided to organise their own live stream of the service for one of their members in prison. Covid safety measures would not allow an inmate to attend in the company of a prison guard, (something I've witnessed occasionally over the years), but the authorities were willing to arrange an exclusive live video link from church to be arranged. Credit is due to the prison governor for agreeing to this.

I returned home just before two o'clock for my Safeguardng training session on Zoom, only to find that the session had been running already for an hour in Central European time. When I was contacted about the session I explained that there was a slight risk of traffic delay which might make me late, but that I did expect to be back by two. I don't know if the person I was in contact with arranging this was in London, where the Euro-diocesan Safeguarding team is based, or in Brussels. I said I was in Cardiff and would be back by two, but this had evidently not registered, otherwise I wouldn't have been booked in for the session, allowing someone else to take my place. 

It was rather embarrassing, as I got a brief impression that the session was for serving chaplains not locums, whose experience of working in a chaplaincy isn't quite the same. If the Zoom was organised on behalf of the London office by someone in Brussels for people in the dioceses, this was just a simple communications error, neither of us picked up on. But, I'm now wondering if the fact of my being a locum in the UK was taken into account at all. Ah well, I have let the organiser know of the mistake. That's all I can do for the moment.

As this gave me a couple of free hours in the afternoon, I walked into the city centre and enjoyed being out in the streets and shopping centre along with lots of other people, out looking for bargains on the first day all shops are open again for the first time since Christmas Eve. I went to the Camera Centre to investigate a possible lens purchase for my little Olympus, and because I thought of it bought a clamp to use to attach my mobile phone to a tripod while making a video. Because of its shape it's called a 'dog'. Clare was quite bewildered when I told her I'd bought a dog for ten quid! 

I went into John Lewis' store which has also reopened and has huge stocks of discounted goods, especially tempting tech bargains. The top floor is like an Aladdin's cave of red ticket items. Possibly goods from some of the JLP stores nationally that have closed recently have been shipped to stores remaining open. Much temptation. I did buy a box of three cordless phones. Ours are ancient and their batteries are dying. Clare says they are the wrong sort, a health risk. I don't really know what this means. Why would they be on sale if they were?

Digital birthday

I slept longer than usual, tired after yesterday's extra long walk, but came down to breakfast to a table, half covered with food and half with cards and presents. It's hard to believe that I'm seventy six today. As well as cards from the family I had digital greetings from Sara in Sweden, Valdo in Switzerland and Connie in Germany. That says a lot about the friendships I've made over the past thirty years.

There were thirty of us at the St Catherine's Eucharist. Mother Frances announced the re-starting of the Thursday morning service at St John's. Suitably it will be a requiem Mass for Prince Philip. After a lunch of salmon and roast veg with a bottle of Chianti Reserva, a siesta before walking up to Llandaff Weir and back. My fitbit phone app tells me that I have slept ten and a half hours since yesterday, compensating for the additional exercise I guess. That's how I really know how old I am!

At supper Clare presented me with a special vegan birthday cake made mostly of chocolate, fruit and nuts. It was delicious. Such a pity we couldn't share it with the family, but never mind, next Saturday we'll all meet up in Cheltenham for a picnic lunch.  Just like last year, wt eight we had a family Zoom conversation for nearly an hour, but so much happier to sit at home with Clare at my side. Then, the fourth episode of 'Line of Duty' with lots more bewildering intrigue and a dash of high melodrama. I'll have another Zoom meeting tomorrow afternoon, for a Eurodiocesan Safeguarding training session. I wonder what else will crop up this week?

Bay walk

A better night's sleep, awake in time to upload today's Morning Prayer video right after listening to the Archbishop of Canterbury giving a well crafted three minute eulogy on Prince Philip in the BBC 4 Radio 'Thought for the Day' slot. He ended with a one sentence connection to Christ's call to his disciples to follow. Nicely done.

Our regular Saturday lie-in and pancake breakfast followed, then a trip to Dinas Powis to have coffee with Jacquie. She moves house to Stroud in a few weeks time and gave me several books by Pierre Teilhard di Chardin that belonged to her late husband Russell, complete with his annotated bookmarks and underlinings. Reading them will be like having him standing beside me enthusing over a spiritual master whose ideas influenced his life journey. When we returned I cooked a paella for lunch.

Again, I hadn't intended to siesta, but ended up spending an hour and a half asleep before setting out for my walk of the day. This took me down to the Bay wetland nature reserve and back, some 12km, and at a better pace than I've been walking recently. Vsriations in my physical energy level are a mystery to me, but I'm grateful on those occasions when I have a really good day.

After supper I uoloaded my photos from the past few days, and then watched an episode of 'The Young Montalbano' before turning in for the night.

Royal family bereavement

I overslept this morning, but got my Morning Prayer video upload done at about the right time in any case. After breakfast and Morning Prayer, I relaxed until it was time to leave for today's funeral, of a 97 year old St Catherine's member who used to sit in front of us in church, before she became housebound. Strange to think that she was not known personally to any of the present Parish clergy team, as all have arrived since she stopped coming. I was glad that Mother Frances asked if I would take the service, since she was in any case, on leave. 

I wasn't so pleased with the funeral directors. I contacted them to inform them via the web-mail device on their website, but heard no reply. The official order of service at Mother Frances' name on it, and the fee cheque was made out to her. The notification document she passed on to me was unusual in that it had no phone or email address printed on it. I wonder whose clever idea that was, given that the web-mail device didn't serve its purpose.

At midday the death of Prince Philip, the Duke of Edinburgh was announced. Immediately all the BBC's regular programming radio and TV was suspended and switched over to continuous news - expressions of condolence to the Royal Family from world leaders, biography, interviews with journalists, historians and church leaders etc. It's been good to hear how well regarded he was in public life, and how advanced he was in his concern for the formation of young people, conservation and climate change issues. 

A lot was made of his role as the Queen's Consort, always standing behind her on official duties and of their long and happy marriage. It struck me that Philip always 'had her back', as we say today. Marrying her meant that as soon as she became Queen, he could no longer continue his promising naval career, but this he did willingly and uniquely in his own way. It also struck me that his naval training ideally equipped him to be there for her, as Queen. Teamwork is essential on any ship. The captain gives the orders, others make sure these are carried out. Doing the job properly and loyally is every bit as important as being in command. Prince Philip has been a good and faithful servant of the Crown in every sense. May he rest in peace. 

At the funeral I took, I read the eulogy, which was longer than usual, and we ran a little late because the funeral before ours also ran late. The exit music requested was Vaughan Williams' 'Lark Ascending'. I was not aware of what was about to happen. As I was saying the prayer of Commendation, the music began. At first I thought it was a mistake, but it didn't stop, and I couldn't interrupt it, so I just kept praying, hoping not to be drowned out by the music - in fact the chapel attendant turned the volume down a bit to balance my voice. I changed pace to work with the music and not against it, and the surprise combination worked out well. Mourners leaving the chapel were visibly moved by this. Whether planned or accidental, I'm not quite sure, but all in all the service did justice to a remarkably feisty 97 year old, whom I had known.

Back home for a late lunch, then a walk with Clare over to Bute Park and back before supper. We watched this week's 'New Amsterdam' episode together, but that was it for the night. We'd both had enough news of the Prince Consort's demise.

Video Quandry

Although I spent more than eight hours in bed, my sleep was somewhat broken. After uploading Morning prayer with no hassle, I had breakfast, said my prayers and fell asleep again. I must have needed it.

At lunchtime, I drove to Thornhill for today's funeral. Unfortunately with a long eulogy and a couple of tributes, which I had no control over, the service ran on a bit longer than the allotted time. The chapel attendant wasn't unduly worried about this, as the service schedule of the day wasn't completely full, and so there was a gap after the one I was taking. The decline in the numbers of covid related funerals has made a welcome difference. Before the service, I was chatting to the funeral conductor, who told me that in one week at the peak of the crisis eighty percent of the funerals done were covid related.

After a late lunch, I recorded and edited the last two Morning Prayer videos. I'm just about accustomed to the process again. I don't do this often enough for it to be habitual. I may be hampered by using equipment which isn't fully geared up for slick video editing. It makes me wonder if I should upgrade, although for all other purposes, my various computers are adequate to the job. These days 8GB RAM and a Core 15 processor seem to necessary to avoid glitches. Several times I there were moments when the editing suite didn't seem to react to the command given, or didn't display that it was doing what was asked of it. This can be a sign of memory buffers not clearing fast enough I think. Hence the requirement for extra RAM to make the process smoother. The trouble is, if there seems to be no response to a command given, I'll click or press a key again impatiently until I get a response, and that tends to screw things up. 

I look after my computers and although they are relatively old, the don't tend to die on me and need replacing. I could buy a new device and have no reason to use again it for video editing. Setting up a new machine to work with the optimum efficiency and minimum annoyance can take many days of machine minding, something I have less patience for these days. Also I don't need to spend time re-learning a new system, when I have all the digital tools I am ever likely to need already at my disposal. Best use of time is what matters most to me these days.

Just as I was about to go out for walk before supper, Marc called by with a copy of the final edit of the video he and Fran produced about the 'Noli me tangere' icon, and a bottle of wine as a thank you present for helping them get started with the project. It was meant to appear in the weekly Parish 'Holy Ground' slot on Facebook at seven, but there was a glitch, evoking a few puzzled responses. I uploaded to You Tube the copy Marc gave me then posted a link to WhatsApp, just in case but the official version appeared on Facebook an hour or so later.

I walked for an hour before supper. Later in the evening, I did the rest of my day's exercise in the dark. Fortunately it wasn't quite so cold as earlier. The weather is changing again.

Re-opening horizons

Thank goodness, no wind today, but still unseasonably cold. My daily Morning Prayer video upload went without hitch and on time. There were eleven of us for the Eucharist at Saint Catherine's. It was celebrated by Archbishop Rowan, who now lives in the parish in retirement. It may be the first time he's done this since he and his wife Jane arrived last summer. I was charged with locking up afterwards, as Clive who normally opens and shuts was leaving immediately after the service for a funeral in the Cathedral. 

I collected this week's organic veg bag before sharing in cooking lunch. I went to bed too late last night and dozed off for an hour afterwards. Then Ashley rang, and I went out to meet him for a chat while he waited an hour for his second jab appointment. We had to walk around the streets, as no place is open where one can sit and have a drink. There will be outdoor places soon, but in such cold weather it's just too cold, even to sit on a park bench with a take-away drink.

It's good to note that covid hospital cases are still diminishing, likewise the general infection rate. As a result it means that next week's planned reopening of shops can go ahead, and likewise cross border travel between Wales and England. I was pleased to learn this afternoon that discussion about reopening Saint John's for worship is now taking place. It's stayed closed longer than the other two as it's been more of a challenge to meet the covid risk assessment scrutiny for places of worship, requiring a team of people to prepare and clean up and welcomers who will check in worshippers and take their contact details for track and trace purposes. 

The average age of the regulars and their aversion to risk taking may have something to do with this, but now that all who can be safely vaccinated in the higher age range has had at least their first jab, confidence is returning. Reopening is complicated by the use made of St John's for live streaming a Sunday Eucharist. There's no reason why regular services with a congregation shouldn't be live streamed, with a little extra equipment and someone willing to operate it as part of their devotions at church, but this requires thinking through if it's to be sustainable.

For some on-line worship has been invaluable in the crisis of church closure, for others unable to attend church because they are housebound it's been a new and unexpected blessing. And, it seems there are even more others who aren't church attenders, but they have come across services on line and started watching and joining on-line discussions and forums. How this will bear fruit once people aren't subjected to social restrictions and have more choices about what to do with their time, remains to be seen. I believe that in the long term, having an on-line service for the housebound is worthwhile doing long term. The question is whether this should be done by every parish all the time, or should grouped parishes in the new Ministry Areas agree a rotation of on-line services from different churches. Maybe a Ministry Area could invest in high quality kit and train teams of people willing to make local broadcast worship their contribution to the life and outreach of the church. Now we've begun to see what works and what's valuable to people, a fresh exploration of this issue will be possible.

Cinema as observatory

Another day of clouds with chilling north wind, and even a brief bout of hail this afternoon, with snow on high ground. It's just like we're back in early February again. My morning prayer upload went smoothly, and after breakfast, I recorded and edited two more day's worth of uploads without a hitch, in less than an hour. Finally I made contact with the chief mourner of the third funeral I'll be taking, and was then able to prepare the service.

I also made contact with osteo-myologist Kay, who has been out of circulation not just due to covid but due to a personal injury a while back. She's now resuming work, and I have an appointment with her in Newport a week today. My neck and shoulder still need sorting out properly, I have found a way to stop the condition getting worse and having seize up on me, but I think there's an alignment issue which only someone with expertise can sort out.

This evening I finally got around to watching last week's episode of 'New Amsterdam'. It was interesting in that it dealt almost entirely with concerns about palliative care, and the different needs of patients in their end of life phase. The NYC public hospital in which the drama is set doesn't seem to have a chaplain on the staff team as such, but many key staff clearly exercise extended pastoral roles in relation to patients. I'm not sure how true to life this is, but this narrative angle poses challenging questions about the role of ministers of religion in a secular setting.

Then, by accident I discovered that More Four Walter Presents is screening two more batches of episodes in the low key Italian detective series 'Non Uccidere', which mostly looks at crime in the context of family relationships. Religious issues crop up in some episodes, to more of an extent than in other modern crime series. Despite the Vatican at the heart of its capital city, Italy is as secular as any other European country. I wonder what this particular story telling slant has to say about society and religion there today.

Unusually busy

More bright cold sunny weather today. At last some free time to spend on preparing for the rest of the week's services on WhatsApp, and making contact with chief mourners arranging funerals at which I'll be officiating this week and next. I uploaded this morning's as soon as I woke up, and got tomorrow's ready during the day.

For this week's assignment, Clare recorded all six resurrection Gospel readings. I think it's good to have the change of voices. Doing this for a continuous live recording is too complex and stressful given the resources available, and the recording time it requires. Inserting an audio file against a photo into the video stream was easy to do. I recorded Morning Prayer, and my reflection of the Gospel of the day separately, and this allowed me to edit them together using Windows Movie Maker. The program is perhaps long in the tooth, but I've used it enough times now not to find it hard to recall how to, and that's what counts, when you're under time constraints, and want to do this as well as possible.

I took a break for a walk in the afternoon, and worked again in the evening. One thing I had forgotten but which was nagging me in the back of my mind was the preparation for the on-line Safeguarding training I have committed to do in order to renew my Diocese in Europe PTO. Maybe I'll never get another locum duty assignment abroad, but I'd prefer to be ready if asked and am free to travel safely etc.. What matters is keeping up to date on an important dimension of pastoral care and awareness applicable to any parish or chaplaincy. The ways in which people can abuse and harm each other seems to keep growing. We have to 'expect the unexpected', as Ashley would say.

The on-line training seminar is a week today, and before that I have to answer, and submit to the training team a series of questions in a digital work book about the nature of safeguarding and the church. There is a deadline for this on Wednesday this week, so that nagging feeling was that I'd better got on and do it pronto. I sat up when I'd finished my other tasks for the day and looked at the questionnaire, thinking I'd do it in the morning, but thoughts occurred to me rapidly, so I wrote to completion, emailed it and went to bed later than I should have done. This training promises to be very interesting, despite being on-line and not in the flesh.

My, that was a busy day!

A welcome Easter celebration

Another cold bright sunny day for our walk to St Catherine's for the Easter Day Eucharist. I remembered last year, alone in the Chaplaincy House in Ibiza, no congregation to respond to the Easter acclamations, no sharing of Communion, just the trusted words of the liturgy to run through in prayer, having uploaded an audio file of the same, and an Easter video greeting the night before. Such a unique experience, being compelled by circumstances to do without what matters most to me in my life of faith. Nevertheless, it was an experience I'm grateful to have had. For all I know it's one I may have to repeat some time, but if so, the essential truth of the Lord's words to St Paul are there for perpetual reassurance: "My grace is sufficient for thee."

There were fifty of us in church, including ten children. What a blessing! That's as good a congregation as any that we had last year before lock-down resumed, and a testimony to the determination of of our faithful members to make church part of their New Normal. Semana Santa in Malaga in 2018, we were a handful on Maundy Thursday and Good Friday, while there were half a million on the streets. In 2014 at Christmas in Taormina, we were eight I think. 

They were strange experiences of ministry, while being aware of UK parishes with no priest to accompany worshippers in Holy Week, but could summon up many more for services if there were any. But priests have no choice about numbers attending, and must not worry about this or the circumstances. You serve wherever you're planted, for the sake of those who'll gather there. That's all there is to it.

With some nervousness and difficulty, I managed to record tomorrow's Morning Prayer but wasn't satisfied with the result. I know I can do better but achieving that takes more time than I have today. It takes time to get used to the very precise routine of producing what's needed, and invariably I forget in between assignments. The last few days have just been too busy to get ready properly.

After lunch, with a glass of an excellent Ribera del Duero to wash it down with, we drove to Lavernock and walked down to the beach. It was low tide and it was just turning, so that off-shore there small waves were breaking without moving forward. An intriguing sight. We took Owain back to the station to catch a train back to Bristol, and then the whole family was re-united in a Zoom call, organised by Kath. The next Zoom call will be on my birthday, a week from now.

Our Passover

Another blue sky sunny day, but rather chilly, good for brisk walking. It turned out to be quite a busy day with three bereavement calls to make for funerals next week. I had to finish preparing the texts for this week's Morning Prayer, and set up the recording environment in the attic, but I didn't get around to doing any recording. It's still rather a trial and error process getting it right and required more time than I had to spare, what with a trip to the shops, then Owain arriving late afternoon, and a walk to St Luke's for the Easter Vigil as the sun was setting. I filmed the Easter Light ceremony and uploaded to YouTube so it could be seen by others who didn't make it.

Without the benefit of a choir, the Vigil was more muted and low key than services on Maundy Thursday and Good Friday, but it was mostly the same group of people worshipping together as it had been through the week, and that made it special. 

When I was chatting with Fr Benedict outside the church after the service, a youngish passer-by with an Ulster accent stopped and made some critical remarks about Anglicanism, saying it had sold out to liberalism, and deviated from the faith by ordaining women etc etc. He exhorted us to return to the one true Catholic church in order to be sure of salvation. It was very odd. He said he didn't attend church or receive Communion, although he claimed to follow the true faith. "He belongs to the church of fruit-cake I think" said Benedict when the guy took his leave of us. 

Was he just a crazy? Or perhaps someone who was self catechized through internet browsing? it occurred to me later. I've had the occasional interrogation from people who notice the cross I wear. They have strong beliefs and opinions and are keen to convince. It's never a real dialogue however. They always know they are right. Well, me too. 

How good to come home and share a few glasses of wine and a natter with Owain before turning in for the night.

Celebrating the Saviour's Passion

A cold bright sunny day to mark the Lord's Passion and Death. No service in church this morning, but the grounds of St Catherine's were open, with Mthr Emma and Fr Rhys standing around welcoming visitors. from net until noon, and I went and joined them for half an hour. Earlier a Calvary with three crosses had been set up in the flower bed by the railings on to the street. The grounds are looking so well cared for at the moment, and people from the neighbourhood who come in to walk around are most appreciative. 

After lunch I walked to St Luke's for the Liturgy of the Passion. The church with its socially distanced seating, and stripped bare looked good, like a monastic church There were two dozen of us, much the same people as have attended each day this week and seeing the same familiar faces in a way gives it something of a monastic feel.  

The choir which sang last night sang again, chanting Psalm 22 Anglican fashion and anthems during the devotions at the cross. The crucifix was carried in and displayed but could not be venerated in the customary way, but I don't think this detracted from the solemnity of the occasion. There was no formal procession to begin with Mthr Emma and Fr Rhys took their places quietly and we all sat in silence for a while, like a Quaker meeting, I thought. The lean un-fussy nature of the liturgy this week has appealed greatly to me. 

When it came to Communion, Emma came me half a Communion wafer. I was surprisingly touched by this. It's the first time I have received bread broken since before going to Ibiza fifteen months ago. I'm not a fan of communion wafers. Normally, if I preside and have a priest's host, I break it and share it, though nowadays I'm not sure if that's allowed, so I don't do it. This weeks turnout for services has resulted in the reserved sacrament stock unintentionally running low, so Emma broke some small wafers to give to the clergy - 'family hold back' maxim. It never really seems right to me symbolically speaking, that we don't normally receive a piece of broken bread. I've always thought people's wafers are a practical convenience that undermines the significance of the dominical action.

After the service Mthr Frances asked if I could cover two more funerals, to free up the clergy team to take their leave. I'm happy to do this, and unusually I'll be dealing with three different funeral directors. After the service I met Clare at the Co-op to do some grocery shopping. It was the first time either of us have had to queue for five minutes to get into the Co-op. I think they may have been short staffed, as there was a queue to get out as well. The rest of the day I spent preparing texts for next week's Morning Prayer and editing the reflections I've already written, so that, combined they are no more than ten minutes each in length. Nice to have work to do that I enjoy.

When I think back to last year, being on my own alone working hard at producing services for an audience that I wouldn't meet, it was the challenge of a lifetime. This year's Holy Week, though far from being usual has been such a blessed consolation.

Maundy Thursday back home

After breakfast this morning, a drive up to the Vale Crematorium for my second funeral of the week. This time I allowed half an hour to get there in good time, as the last occasion I drove there the traffic was slow moving, and I arrived just behind the hearse, which didn't give me much time to sort myself out. There was far less traffic today, and I arrived half an hour early. The buildings were locked, and I had to wait outside the the cold along with other mourners until the doors were opened at ten to eleven, an anti covid precaution, according to one of the office staff who came out to explain. It seems ours was the first funeral of the day, as one wouldn't normally expect the place to be locked in between services.

When I got back, I went to the bank to deposit a couple of cheques. If there's counter service I use this by default, rather than use a machine, as it's more sociable, even if there's not much to chat about with the cashier. Today I was informed that counter service will end in June. The branch will continue to be open with automatic machines, and staff on hand to consult. It will also be possible to pay cheques in via a Post Office counter, though why anyone would want to do that when there's often a queue of a dozen people at a Post Office waiting to be served, I've no idea. 

You might have a wait a short while for an automatic pay-in machine or and ATM to be available, but a fraction of the time needed for a Post Office visit. Branch decline is said to be a product of a major shift to digital banking. The upper limit for contactless card payments is about to be raised to £100. It was £30 at first, then went to £45, but during the pandemic, use of contactless payment has rocketed. While the greater limit will be convenient and 'safer' for many, there is also a risk of great loss, from card theft or electronic 'skimming'. A cashless digital society is what we're heading towards, but it trouble me that those least likely to benefit from the trend are the poorest and those without secure housing, forced to beg.

Another funeral has come my way for next Thursday, from a funeral director desperate to find a minister, as all the Parish clergy are taking time out in Easter Week, as they should. The work-load for the fewer number of clergy now serving the city has been made that much greater by the need to create and offer on-line services this past year. The strain on them is terrible.

I walked to St Luke's this evening for the Eucharist of the Last Supper. We had a choir of six singing the Mass and some anthems, all socially distanced. There were two dozen of us altogether. No foot-washing this year, no solemn transfer of the Sacrament or vigil, very low key really, but none the worse for that. I felt so grateful to be able to worship together with others, in such a contrast to this time last year. I think we benefit from overall simplification of our style of worship, but covid safe rubrics have tended to limit active participants, i.e. readers, intercessors, altar servers, Communion ministers. Far too much now has to be done by the priest, adding even more to the demands upon them. Do the rule givers realise?

I failed to spot any April Fool media pranks this year, unless there was one to do with 'Line of Duty' being filmed and having to stop because one of the actors, a Scot, lost his fake cockney accent. Well, it's no more silly than some of the regular media entertainment celebrity news is it?