Another broken night's sleep, but at least it's less unpleasant now it's warmer. After breakfast, I had a phone call from Pidgeon's about a funeral in two weeks time. It's of the widow of a man whose service I took exactly three years ago. Her memory was failing at that time and she moved away to the South East to be near her daughter. They want her service to be down here, as they lived in Cardiff for thirty years in later life and it's where their friends still are. When I heard the surname, I recalled all the essential detail immediately, much to the funeral arranger's surprise, and mine for that matter.
As I was jotting down the date and time, a lens dropped out of my specs. Yet again, awful design, although it's my fault for taking them off so frequently, when I don't need them. They took me ten minutes to fix, and lateness panic started to set in. I get distressed if I think I'm losing my grip. Kath drove me over to St German't to celebrate their midweek Mass, and despite traffic we arrived on time.
It's something I agreed to do before I had any idea of the impact of the operation. I didn't want to cancel unless I was incoherent and drained of energy, and as I have been feeling well despite the discomfort, I thought it would be a test of my recovery. I've done this before over the past two years. It's demoralising to have to cancel and it can undermine confidence, if you're afraid you can't do something when you can. All went well. It was good to have an opportunity to celebrate a Corpus Christi Mass in anticipation of tomorrow's feast, even if there were only four of us present.
Kath waited to take me home, but instead of staying for the service, wandered off down to Ruby Street in Splott, where she spent her first intense year of training to start her higher education Contemporary Dance course in Coventry University. A little trip down Memory Lane for her, and a photo on Instagram of the dance studio, to mark the sentimental journey.
After lunch Kath and Clare went to town on a clothes shopping trip. I stayed home, with my weekly tasks of collecting our food shopping orders, also Friday's funeral and a eulogy to prepare, and a recording for tomorrow's on-line Matins and Reflection. Jan called about a funeral at 'the Res' while she's on leave too.
Somehow the afternoon slipped by and after an early supper, Kath took her leave, hopefully rested by her four day break. It was so refreshing to have her with us. Finally, I got around to editing what I'd recorded earlier and uploaded it to YouTube, ready for the morning. This took three hours, by far the hardest task of a busy day, as I was getting tired and unable to sit at my workstation without the distraction of discomfort. I needed stand or kneel at my desk, to control the Windows video editing suite properly. I used audio plus some photos as audio markers. I've done it before to my satisfaction. Being unable to sit and record video was enough reason to repeat the exercise.
I don't know what consumers think of this. There's little by way of feedback apart from the odd 'Thank you'. It'd help to have an evaluation session involving consumers and users of on-line Parish content, not least to find out who find what's thought easy or hard to achieve. I've noticed a recent switch by producers to video delivery via YouTube with a What's App link. I may not have triggered this, but I experimented with this months ago because of my antique phone hassles. Nothing has been said agreeing to this as policy, we just carry on muddling through.
I ran out of time for evening exercise, and only walked for an hour today. I acknowledge I'm impatient with myself, but having lived so long with this affliction, getting as close to normal as I can does my heart and mind good, better than medicaiton.
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