Cloud and rain showers returned today after quite a long absence. I woke up at seven thirty, after a good eight hours sleep, listened to the radio and then got up at eight to make breakfast. That's a pattern I'd like to sustain with no afternoon siesta. After all, it's not hot enough to justify an lie-down here after lunch, even if I am often tempted just to nod off.
At nine thirty I drove to Fairwater to St Peter's church to celebrate their ten o'clock Parish Eucharist. It's one of the few churches in Cardiff I've never been to before. It wasn't the building I thought it was, so I had to check the location on my phone. The building dates back to the inter-war period, simple in style and well appointed. The congregation of thirty which swelled to forty-five when the Sunday School came in at Communion time.
Their arrival was unexpected. Apparently they meet on Sundays fortnightly, then on a Saturday afternoon for an outdoor session in alternate weeks, but over Easter the sequence must have been disrupted. Never mind. I had fun. The entire Sunday School sat in the empty choir stalls, which was good for having a little chat with them about what they'd been learning. Then a box of percussion instruments appeared and they all took one they could bang or shake during the final hymn. Normally a suitable hymn would have been chosen, but today's last hymn was 'Guide me O though Great Redeemer'. A joyful noise unto the Lord, but quite unsynchronised. Everyone took it in good part.
There was coffee afterwards in the church hall next door. The hall looks newer than the church and may have been rebuilt in recent years. The buildings sit on a substantial piece of land, and in the past decade or so, it has been developed as a community garden run by volunteers from church and parish. The hall windows look out on a beautifully kept green space with trees and bushes, plus there's a patio with chairs and tables for outdoor refreshments. I was surprised there were several people in the congregation that recognised me from former times when I worked in the diocese. That doesn't happen too often these days, given that only sixteen years of my ministry took place here and I've been retired for twelve years now, part of the distant past of diocesan life.
Clare ventured out to church this morning for the first time since she got covid. Her condition is slowly improving, though 'two steps forward one step backward' seems to be the rule of progress. I went down to St Catherine's to meet her as I got home early enough to do so, but she'd already left. We met at the junction on Llandaff Road. She'd just been for a turn in Thompson's Park after the service, reluctant to socialise with so many people interested in asking how she's getting on, and not knowing what to say when progress is so erratic. She'd prepared lunch as well before going out, so when we got back home, I took over the cooking while she had a rest. All in all, I think this is an improvement on previous weeks.
I went out for a walk in the park after lunch, rather quiet today with the grass still damp from the rain. I caught sight of a Song Thrush gathering a clump of grass mowings and flying with them up into a tree to use in building a nest.
After a couple of hours watching telly, I spent another couple of hours reading and revising my novel before turning in for bed. There's so much I wrote back in the winter three years ago that I've forgotten, so it's quite a pleasant surprise to discover how much I packed in to a work that began as a short story and took on a life of its own. Now's the time to get it under control. So far so good.
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