Watch rescue

Another day of strong winds, clouds and occasional light showers, but not as bad as the past few days. We are promised warmer weather later in the week, for how long, I wonder? This week, the Parish offering of Morning Prayer six days a week starts on rotation between three lay people, Fr Rhys, Mthr Frances, now back at work half time, and myself. This seems to me a good idea, with the variety of voices, and thoughts in a brief reflection as part of the Daily Office. It would be great to add even more lay contributors as time passes and others get used to the idea that they can do it too.

Last night, I had an email request from my sister June to shop for some special 'pill' batteries for a digital clock, as she can't get out to hunt for them herself. With difficulty she'd identified the serial number on the dead battery and sent it to me. I googled the serial number and got the impression that it shouldn't be too difficult to track this type down. I went to Tesco's where I knew a variety of common battery types were on sale. There was nothing with the same serial number on the rack, but when I googled again on my phone standing awkwardly by the shelf, I found info about the serial numbers for equivalent batteries, and that made it easy to buy the right type.

I popped home and put the purchase in an envelope, then took it to the Post Office, as the envelope wasn't thin enough to travel on a single first class stamp. The counter clerk quoted me £3.50 to send the envelope but I was even more surprised when when she pushed a customs declaration towards me. "Since when" I asked, "Since when was it necessary to declare the contents of anything going from Wales to London?" Then the penny dropped "Oh, I thought you said France." she said, staring blankly at the address on the envelope.

After lunch, I walked into town and visited the digital watch stall in Central Market with both my Casio broken watches in hand, to see if the repair guy there could make one good watch out of the parts of two. He took the older one apart and inserted a new battery, but the LED screen wouldn't display fully. In working on it, he had an insight into why the one he tried to fix two weeks ago wasn't working properly. He took that one apart, fiddled about with it, and got the control buttons to work properly. Last time he changed the battery but refused to take payment because it didn't work as intended. This time I insisted on paying him although he was reluctant to let me. I'm glad to have it working again. This means I have two watches to choose from now for the first time in my life.

I rang the Public Health covid Screening centre to confirm my attendance on Tuesday, and mentioned the fact that the facility doesn't show up on Google maps, wile asking for the post code and street location, to be sure I can go straight there without having to stop and ask anyone. From this evening on I'm going to avoid others, apart from Clare, eighteen hours ahead of the test. I'm not taking any risks with surgery at last on Friday this week.

This evening I watched another episode of 'Rocco Schiavone' on Walter Presents. It's another one of those series in which the landscape is as much a star as the actors. It's interesting to have a storyline running in between episodes revealing that this tough detective with unconventional often rule breaking methods and a certain way with the women in his life is also a grieving widower who cannot let go of his wife. He has conversations with his wife about his cases and his life alone which are often philosophical and poetic and that distinguishes this series from other crimmies. Inspector Montalbano is another Italian detective with whom it's tempting to make comparison, and episodes so far have similar richness, complexity and social observations to them. It'll be interesting to see how Rocco's character develops in the dozen remaining episodes to come and how this portrayal compares with that of Montalbano.