Wet Friday

Overcast and raining all day today, until mid-evening, so little incentive to go out. 

I completed next week's Morning Prayer video and uploaded it to YouTube. After lunch I walked in the rain to what turned out to be a rather difficult bereavement visit. My preparation for the funeral service will have to wait upon another discussion on Monday.

It was too wet to continue walking after the visit, so I went home and binge watched several episodes of a euro-crimmie serial about money laundering, called 'Hidden Assets' set in Antwerp and Shannon. It shed light on the complexities of concealing money from tax authorities through shell companies in tax havens, and how much value can be concentrated by investment in diamonds, legal or otherwise. 

I went for a walk in the dark around Llandaff Fields after supper. It was very quiet after the rain. Then watched the final episode before bed.

Rude awakening

I woke up earlier than usual and uploaded my Morning Prayer link to WhatsApp half an hour before 'Thought for the Day'. At twenty five past seven the doorbell rang. A delivery of medicine for Clare's self injection course of treatment for her vertebrae eroded by osteoporosis. She had been told to expect a text message to advise her of the delivery time window, but it hadn't arrived by the time she went to be last night at ten, switching her phone off at the time. 

The message arrived ten minutes after the delivery, which arrived five minutes before the earliest delivery time stated. Just as well I was awake as Clare was still asleep. The text message stated it was from 'Logistics', but didn't state which company or assignment it related to. A previous text message advising her to make arrangements by visiting a certain website arrived without stating clearly its origination or purpose in relation to a NHS treatment plan. It was a vague as any scam text message might be. 

The company sending it was a specialised nursing service to which the NHS outsources work that might otherwise be done by District Nurses. I had to dig into its website to establish that the company is used by the NHS. Outrageously incompetent communication in my opinion, this presumption that the business is too important or well regarded not to be known without introducing itself properly in an age where digital deception is routine and commonplace, particularly when communicating to people who may be ailing and vulnerable.

On my way to St John's to celebrate the Michaelmas Eucharist, I called into Tesco's and bought some groceries for the church's food bank contribution. There were four of us at the service and we didn't bother with coffee afterwards. I went straight home and cooked lunch. Afterwards, I collected my quarterly prescription medication, then walked into town to bank a couple of cheques, and caught the 61 bus back home. As the workers next door had finished for the day and Clare was out, the house was quiet, ao I recorded and edited next week's Morning Prayer. After supper with nothing better to do, I watched crimmies on telly until bed time. An interesting one about money laundering in Europe.

Housing misfortune

Today is Clare's birthday. I forgot to get her a card, but bought her present weeks ago, and a bunch of roses later in the day. After breakfast an early walk to St Catherine's to unlock the church and prepare for the Eucharist. There were five of us, and afterwards we had coffee together in the church hall. When I'd locked up behind me, I went straight to the collection point to pick up our weekly veggie beg, and got home with three quarters of an hour to spare before being collected for a funeral at the Wenallt Chapel in Thornhill. There were two eulogies, one from a representative of the family, the other on behalf of a wide circle of friends. 

The man whose funeral it was had worked for most of his life running a store belonging to John Hall Tools in the Royal Arcade in a public facing job that led to him making friends with scores of customers. This old Cardiff family business was equipping enthusiasts and craft workers for a century before massive retail companies got on the DIY bandwagon. I can remember my father shopping there seventy years ago. One of the remaining family members who worked for the company, Richard Hall was at the service. He was church warden of St John's City Parish Church when I was Vicar there. He's now old and frail, using a walking frame but still quietly active. It was good to see him again.

Clare had a cooked lunch waiting for me when I got back, fresh sardines with rice and veg. We then drove to the Post Office sorting office to collect a parcel which hadn't been delivered or left with a neighbour. Such a nuisance. I dropped her off with the shopping trolley to get some of the week's groceries at Beanfreaks. When she returned, I took the trolley to the Co-op and got the rest of the things we needed.

Distressing news from Owain. Not only has the bank repossessed the flat he made an offer on which was accepted before the owner died, his own rented flat has now got a new owner after his landlord died, and he visited to inspect today. He's thinking of installing his adult children in property, which will mean giving Owain notice to quit. The Bristol housing market has been over inflated by demand from people moving out of London, wanting to work from home and occasionally commute, particularly in the past eighteen months since he started his home purchase quest. 

The likelihood of him finding a new flat to rent is low anyway, and rental costs have gone up by a third to a half. It's grossly unfair and it's happening to thousands of people as a result of government policies rewarding greed and speculation on property. The economic recklessness of the Truss government is depressing the value of the pound and adding to the current inflationary spiral. Recession seems unavoidable. Uncertainty promotes instability. What an awful mess, and there's little that can be done until there's a general election to get rid of the fools who have held the reins of power for far too long.

After supper I started work on new week's offering of Marning Prayer, writing and recording a biblical reflection  the rest can wait until tomorrow.

Job done

After a good sleep and breakfast, I continued tweaking a few things on my sister's computer, including a check on whether the printer would work after the update. Thankfully it did work properly and didn't need attention. I also deduplicated files on the backup drive. Now that the computer's file system is synced with One Drive June, a flash drive backup is not so necessary, except as a dated archive copy. June prepared a list of technical questions for which she needed explanations, and we worked through them as well.

After lunch I walked to Northcote Road Pharmacy to collect her prescription medication and buy a few other items she needed. I walked across Wandsworth Common on the way back, and as interested to hear parakeets squawking in the trees. A few years ago the first inland colony established itself around the lakes on thte west side of Heathrow Airport. Progressively since then they have spread much further afield in the metropolis. An invasive species competing for food and space with indigenous species, no matter how attractive people might find them to look at.

After a teatime snack, I parted company with my sister and caught the train to Victoria, and then the Circle line underground to Paddington. It was so packed with commuters, I put a face mask on as a precaution. Paddington was also very crowded with travellers. I had half an hour to wait before boarding a train which was pretty full. Most passengers were reading or writing on their phones, and some were working on their laptops. The train began to empty at Reading and Swindon, and even Bristol Parkway, which illustrates I believe, how far people are commuting these days.

The train arrived at nine fifteen, spot on time, and I walked from there as far as Canton. Impulsively at the bottom of Romilly Road, I crossed over to walk through the bas shelter, and as I reached it a 61 bus pulled up alongside me, so I had a ride for the last two thirds of a mile. Good to be back at the predicted time, with two services to take tomorrow.

Troubleshooting in Wandsworth

A break in routine today, with a taxi ride for Ann and I to the station, to take the 10.41 train for the two hour journey to London. We parted company at Paddington and with underground and suburban train connections working without delay, arrived at my sister's June's place at one thirty.

Her computer has been ailing for some time, so after lunch I set to work troubleshooting. The 64GB hard drive was almost full, threatening to stop working entirely. On examination the problem turned out to be her photograph collection which was inflated in size by several gigabytes, by duplicated files. How this happened is yet to be determined, how to remove the redundant copies was my challenge. 

I started by transferring all files to a back up flash drive. This gave sufficient room for Windows to update. To my surprise the update was a full version of Windows 11. The file transfer to flash drive took more than two hours, and the operating system update another three. In between, I did some food shopping, and searched for a way to safely remove the empty folders and two gigabytes of redundant file duplicates. Then, it was a matter of doing the job manually with the search tool, taking another hour or so. Then some of the pruned photo files could be restored to the computer. The majority of the photos more than four years old will have to stay on the flash drive, as the computer's drive isn't big enough to work properly if it's nearly full. The exception is treasured travel pictures from a decade ago.

To conclude, I activated the file synchronisation process to the cloud storage system, so everything is properly backed up all the time. This took several more hours. It was eleven o'clock be the time I finished. All that was needed then was to repodition the Start mrnu to the old Windows 10 position, so thst no learning to use a new redundant was necessary. All thst needs doing now is to find out how files are getting duplicated and fix that. A job for tomorrow.

Double duty

An autumnal chill in the air this morning, and an early start, walking to St John's to celebrate the Eucharist at nine o'clock, with about forty adults and children. Then, on to St Catherine's for the ten thirty Eucharist with fifty adults and children. It's the first time in three or more years that I've done two Sunday services ensuite. It's good to know that I can still do this if needs be, even if it left me feeling pretty tired. I think I slept for two hours after a late lunch.

This weekend a couple of workmen have continued stripping the paint off the stonework of the house next door despite initial undertakings by the developers that work would only be carried out between eight and four on weekdays. They've been at it all week and it's been very messy as the protective cladding has been inadequate and not properly secured. They have tried to clean up after them several times, but have not been very thorough about it. The men themselves seem to have worked without masks. Heaven knows what it has done to their lungs.  We were told they are still waiting from industrial face masks ordered to arrive. This job doesn't seem to have been done with any on-site supervision of their work at all.

We questioned them about working over the weekend and were told that they had been given a deadline of Monday to complete the job, or not get paid. An outrageous threat. Clare wrote a detailed letter to the firm responsible for the project, and we agreed that a copy should go to the Council's Environmental Services team, as Health and Safety legislation has evidently been ignored, risking the health of the workers and the immediate neighbourhood with all that toxic paint laden stone dust. On-line the developers have bragged about the profit they expect to make, 'upgrading' number eleven to four bedrooms and three bathrooms. At what cost to the workers?

After my long siesta, a walk in the park, then supper and an hour in front of the telly before bed.

Singing in Llanilltud Fawr

A pancake breakfast this morning, then a drive to Llantwit Major for a choir rehearsal in St Illtud's Parish Church, the fifth century cradle of Christian mission in South Wales. It must be twenty years since I last visited, and much has changed. The delapidated Galilee Chapel at the west end of the building has been splendidly renovated and developed as a modern visitor centre. It still houses its collection of ancient Celtic crosses, but in an enhanced well lit setting. My photos are here,

We practiced some pretty challenging music for three hours, then went for a pub lunch at the nearby Old Swan pub, then drove home. I had a few things to obtain for my sister and went into town after returning. After supper, I printed tomorrow's two sermons and then we watched a double episode 'KaDeWe' on BBC Four, a serialised story with German subtitles about Germany after the World War One, and the rise of the Nazis and anti-semitism. 

The episodes were, to my mind overloaded with fairly explicit sex scenes which added little to the advancement of the story. I didn't much see the point of this, except to delight voyeurs in the audience. Curiously background street scenes, slightly out of focus, were of modern Berlin, with the actors in the foreground. I wasn't sure what the point of this was, apart from huge savings in period piece vehicle and film extra costume hire. It other respects it wasn't a low budget movie.

Autumnal opera season begins

After breakfast I has a phone call from Tony Lewis of the United Services Mess inviting me to serve as chaplain at the annual Remembrance Day banquet, as I have done many times in the past twenty years. The banqueters are mostly armed service veterans. This is the first to be arranged post-covid. I do hope there'll be rely good turnout.

I completed next week's Morning Prayer video and uploaded it to YouTube, then I walked into town, while Ann and Clare walked in the park. Having decided to travel to London with Ann on Monday to see my sister June I needed to buy a train ticket. I was lucky enough to reserve a set next to her. Monday off peak trains are not so busy, apparently.

We drove to the Millennium Centre after tea for the evening's performance of Janacek's opera 'The Makropulos Affair', one we've never seen before. It was an unusual story, about a law suit and a 300 year old opera diva kept alive and young by a magic potion, set in the early 20th century.

The music and singing was immaculate as ever. The production was unusual and innovative, making use of evocative video projection during the overture and one act. Then during a long scene changing interlude, one of male singers came on stage and explained entertainingly to the audience the complexities of the law suit. A brilliant innovation.

Janacek isn't as popular as many other opera composers, and the auditorium wasn't packed, as it is usually. Those who didn't chose this show missed a treat. It's unusual in another way worth experiencing.

It was like a stage play with dialogue and actors singing not speaking. The music, full of dissonant harmonies served like a sound track in a movie. It was rich with emotional content, sustaining the drama. One thought provoking statement from the 300 year old diva, was how intolerably lonely it was live so long, a sentiment often expressed by those who live beyond ninety and lose spouse, friends and sometimes offspring. For such loneliness, when nobody is left who shares your life experience, there's no cure.

Here for the weekend

I woke up in the small hours and it took me a long time to get back into sleep. Then I woke up at my usual time, seven, and fell asleep again listening to the news, so it was gone eight when I posted my Morning Prayer link to WharsApp. After breakfast I went to Tesco's to buy groceries for the food bank and then took them to the St John's collection point. There's been a notable dip in the volume of food donated, with the recent price rises, not only in the news but here in church. David told me he and Lynda used to take drop donations off at the Splott food bank every couple of weeks, but now it's every four or five weeks. A sobering thought. There were seven of us for the Eucharist. We celebrated St Matthew again. Why not?

We had a light lunch, planning to have a cooked supper with on sister in law Ann's arrival. Afterwards I recorded and edited the audio for next week's Michaelmass Morning Prayer, and not without difficulty with the noice of building work from next door in the background. The house 'upgrade' next door goes on still after three months. It's been messy and dirty with much dust, and most recently from dirty water on out railing and windows from the stripping of paintwork from the stone facade next door. Remedial work on cleaning our railings, path, porch and garden plants as been less than satisfactory. Less than thorough. We'll be glad to see the back of the builders whenever they go.

It's good to have Ann with us for the weekend, looking better since her surgery earlier this year. She told us that her journey from Felixstowe had been made easier by using the new 'Elizabeth Line' to get across inner London to Paddington, and now of course, the electrified train line to South Wales has reduced the journey time to Cardiff by half an hour. No wonder house prices in Wales and the West of England are fast rising as the regions come within easier reach of London. It's not a happy situation when houses become unaffordable to people living and working here.

We each had a complete sea bass for supper, a splendid treat, and a bottle of Prosecco in honur of both Ann and Clare's birthdays, which are close together. Then we sat and chatted until it was time for the news and eventually bed.

Op delayed

If left early for St Catherine's this morning as I had to open up the church and prepare to celebrate the Eucharist without the support of Clive whose away this week in St David's. There were only three of us today. Two thirds of the regulars were also away as well. I was glad there were a couple of people there, as the feast of St Matthew the Evangelist is special to me, as I was ordained Deacon and Priest in the two days beforehand in different years. No coffee and chat this morning, so I came home, has a coffee and then went collect this week's veggie bag.

After lunch I worked for a couple of hours on next week's Morning Prayer and Reflection for Michaelmas Day, then went to the Co-op for this week's grocery shopping. Then I had a phone call from St Joseph's hospital to say that tomorrow's cataract op is postponed as surgeon Andrew is off sick. Clare heard at the meditation group last night that he was absent because he was unwell, so I wasn't surprised at the news, only disappointed that I have to wait another month. 

The new date I've been given is 20th October, right in the middle of our Gower holiday with Ann. I have to drive back the evening before as the appointment is at 7.00 on Thursday morning. I'm not sure I'll be recovered enough to return and drive them home on Saturday, so unfortunately they'll have to return to Cardiff by train. I called Martin. He and Chris will give me a bed on Wednesday and Thursday nights and ferry me to and from the hospital. It's fortunate they only live a few miles from St Joseph's.

Clare went to a Pilates class at six and returned in time for supper and 'The Archers'. Afterwards I watched a Physics programme about the part played by temperature in making the universe, called 'Ice and Fire'. A lot of information, perhaps a bit too much was packed into an hour on the physics of low temperature. It was presented Dr Helen Czerski. Her enthusiastic style reminded me of Brian Cox. Then there was a programme about the history of the Second World War and how interpretation of its events has changed over decades in the light new historical research. Also interesting to watch. Altogether an educational rather than entertaining evening.

Change at the top

A cooler autumnal day after a cold night, but sunny despite the clouds. Clare went off to her study group after breakfast. I worked on next Sunday's sermons, and then completed this week's Morning Prayer video and uploaded it to YouTube. A surprise email arrived from the Diocese announcing the appointment of a new Dean of Llandaff, Richard Peers, sub Dean of Christchurch Oxford, plus a letter from Bishop June announcing her retirement in December.

I'm disappointed there wasn't a Church in Wales candidate to occupy the post. Too many positions in this diocese have been filled by Church of England clergy in recent years, and this is bad for the self-esteem and morale of long standing Welsh clergy in my opinion. Will the diocesan electoral college take note of such a concern when choosing an episcopal candidate/ Will the Bench of Bishops control the process and over-ride the diocesan electors' wishes, as happened last time around? Time will tell.

I cooked lunch ready for Clare's return, and after eating together went for a walk in the park. I bumped into Lord Dafydd Elis-Thomos on Llandaff Fields, returning from a meeting at the Cathedral. We stood and chatted about the news many many other things, for the best part of an hour, before continuing down to the river.

When I returned home, Clare had gone to her meditation group at six, so I ate supper alone, then watched a lovely documentary programme on More Four in a documentary series called 'Wondrous' Wales, giving different aspects of rural life - one was about hill farming in Carmarthenshire's Black Mountains, and the other was about a smallholder in the Brecon Beacons specialising in honey production. Then I watched two episodes of a new drama called 'Crossfire', a fine piece of drama about a murder spree by two disaffected young men in a Canary Island package holiday resort. It portrayed in detail the whole experience from the viewpoint of the many different victims caught up in the shooting. There's more to the story than that, but I'm keeping the final episode for another night.

The Queen's Funeral

Thankfully, I woke up to find the after effects of yesterday's covid booster jab had subsided completely. Good news, as were intending to drive to Bristol to watch the funeral of the Queen with Amanda and James, our first visit since August 2021, due to covid. Traffic was light for a Bank Holiday Monday, with so many people watching the service on telly at home, or in social gatherings. St John's church in our Parish was showing it on a large screen, with a light lunch afterwards provided by the Mothers Union. I'd have gone if it hadn't been such opportune to go to Bristol. Both she and James are on good form. She made us a splendid lunch while the Queen's coffin was on its way from Westminster to Windsor for burial in St George's chapel royal vault.

In every aspect. the service and the military ceremonial were beautifully planned and perfectly organised. Amazingly, the service from Westminster Abbey was televised with no commentary, titles were shown on screen identifying those with speaking parts. Archbishop Justin spoke very well. It was in every sense a clear and positive witness to Christian faith the Monarch professed. It seems she chose the hymns, and maybe the readings as well. The prayers were mainly from the 1662 Book of Common Prayer, some adapted to the occasion, plus a few new ones as well, but all of them framed in Tudor style English. We've got so used to using contemporary English, this had a strange poetic freshness to it.

If there were any security incidents they occurred off the radar of the mass media. An atmosphere of peace and quiet reverence prevailed, in the Abbey and on the streets of the capital. Some people will question the relevance of the antique rituals of state and armed forces to modern life, but not take into account that all those involved are highly trained and disciplined in modern warfare, security and rescue practices. Having to work together in such large teams in which everyone knows their role and place is part of parcel of their military training. I don't begrudge them their quaint if not bizarre traditions when they put themselves in harm's way on active service for the good of the country. The Queen set the supreme example by her life of devotion to the duty of serving others.

We left Amanda and James's place mid-afternoon and drove to Redfield to visit Owain. After a cup of tea we walked around Netham Park, his nearest green space overlooking Netham Lock, which is the point at which boats on the Kennet and Avon canal gain access to Bristol's Floating Harbour. The canal between the weir at the lock and the harbour known as the Feeder Canal, carries the water of the river Avon and is tidal. It dates back to the early nineteenth century. The Netham park site was once a huge chemical works established in 1859 which made caustic soda and sulphuric acid. The works would have been a major polluter in its day, and no doubt the ground is still contaminated. It closed in 1949 and the site levelled to create the park. Owain said that people are warned not to collect blackberries from bushes along the canal because of their potential toxicity.

We left Bristol in what would normally be the rush hour, but traffic was still light for a Bank Holiday, all the way to Cardiff, which made a pleasant change. After supper I watched the last episode of 'The Blacklist', of what turns out to be series one. It's overall storyline remains as confusing as ever. I'm still not sure what the series is getting at. A mystery, but not in the usual sense of the word when it comes to tales of crime solving. 

After effects

This morning, I drove to Roath and celebrated the Eucharist with the congregation of over thirty at Saint Edward's church. I'm not sure that I preached here in my time with USPG, so this was my first visit. There was a choir of six who sung enthusiastically. The priest's musical parts were different from anything I know off by heart, and it was difficult to learn them properly in the short time beforehand, as the music wasn't very big and the lighting not strong enough for me to see well enough. I'm looking forward to this Thursday's cataract op making a difference. It's been so frustrating this past year. To my aronishment yesterday I had a letter from the ophthalmology department in the Heath hospital giving me an appointment date in November. It may be a pre-op assessment, or even a triage appointment. The letter doesn't say.  I shall wait to respond until I have had advice from eye surgeon Andrew.

I was home slightly earlier than usual, as people don;t socialise after the service at this church. I started to feel as if I was developing a dose of 'flu. Yesterday's booster jab starting to have its impact on my immune system. It was the new Moderna vaccine which protects against the original and omega strains, which my mean it makes you feel twice as lousy. After lunch I drove Clare to Penarth for her study group meeting, and came straight home, and laid low for the rest of the day, not even going out for a walk. I don't know of this will make a difference to my recovery rate. I normally make the effort when I don't feel like exercise, but not today.

After supper, I watched an interesting programme about art theft in Stockolm, and learned that 95% of stole art works are never recovered. This story was one of the rare successes, involving the Swedish and Danish police and the FBI, as two of the painting had ended up in America. And so to bed.

Jab number five

After our late Saturday pancake breakfast, I worked for a while on tomorrow's sermon, then we walked over to Bute Park for a coffee before lunch, We didn't get back until one thirty so lunch was late as well. After a siesta, I went over to see Emma and Nick, and begged a lift back home after Thursday's cataract operation. 

Then Clare and I drove to Maes y Coed Road in Llanishen to have our fifth covid jab. It's the third mass vaccination centre we've visited, a smaller set up, with a speedy throughput and no queue. It's a series of temporary cabin buildings in a car park, designed in the light of experience of previous set-ups I imagine, and working very efficiently. We were logged in, jabbed, and on our way out in ten minutes. At the end of Maes y Coed Road there's a big Lidl's, so we stopped and did some shopping.

After supper I recorded and edited next Thursday's audio, and then watched another episode of The Wagner Method before turning in for the night.

Royal flying visit

After breakfast this morning I walked over to Pontcanna Fields to await the King's arrival. I was there just after ten, and had more than an hour to wait. The tree lined avenue was cordoned off and lined with police officers. Down the path to Blackweir Bridge a line of VIP vehicles was parked and dozens of officials and security personnel were gathered, along with photographers. Getting a clear view of the King's helicopter landing spot wasn't easy, as nobody was allowed on the side of the avenue next to the field. The view from behind the banking that carries the road was restricted, so I had to use the full extent of my Olympus long lens to get any worthwhile photos, and crop them on editing.

It was eleven twenty when the King's helicopter arrived. I was surprised to see that it wasn't a military but rather a civilian one in maroon livery. As the King was at Highgrove House in Gloucestershire overnight,  the flight most probably started there, about half an hour away from Pontcanna Fields. Fairly quickly, the royal party and their minders drove away from the landing field up the avenue. Three police motorcyclists went first, with a single police motorcyclist in front of the usual regal Rolls Royce, with the royal standard pennant on top. 

On a whim, I decided to use my Sony HX90 in burst mode to capture a sequence of pictures of the passing royal car, but this was a complete failure. It takes great photos very quickly, but takes several seconds to save them to the camera's SD card. I got the motorcyclists, and the approach of the royal car, but as it went past me I was still waiting for the previous burst of photos to be saved. So disappointing!

I went home then, in time to watch the service from Llandaff Cathedral. It was lovely to see the faces of several people I know taking part. Throughout, it was thoroughly bilingual, hymns, readings, prayers, wth a special anthem written for the occasion, accompanied by the past and present Royal Harpist. The BBC delivered English subtitles - and they were readable for a change. Archbishop Andy spoke well. Five people took part in prayers of intercession, led by Bishop June, including Muslim and Jewish as well as ecumenical representatives. It was a splendid affirmation of Wales' diversity and bilingualism.

We watched the ceremonies that followed in the Senedd while eating lunch. It was nice to see Barry our former Archbishop commenting on the service in the studio afterwards. Clare was inspired to take off to the Castle to see the King arrive. She caught a bus, but was five minutes too late getting there. I followed on foot. We stood among the crowds opposite the Castle and waited for an hour and a half for the royal car to depart, through an inter-service military guard of honour outside the gate, with scores of police officers on the street, and other officials in their dark suits and black ties, standing around doing goodness knows what. After a long wait in a chill wind, it was over in a couple of minutes. 

We went to Barker's Coffee House in Castle Arcade for a warm-up drink, and a sit down. Clare then went to the crystal jewellery shop next door, and spotted a possible birthday present, which I purchased after she'd set out to walk home. I went to bank a cheque, caught a bus to Canton and walked the rest of the way home, then edited and uploaded a second batch of photos of this exceptional day. No good photos of the King, but a fair number of pictures of the setting of his arrival and departure from the edge of the action, as ever in my case. You can see them here

After supper, I started writing a Sunday sermon and got stuck half way. I needed further study on the text I'm expounding, but didn't feel like it, so I watched a couple of episodes of 'The Wagner Method' on my laptop instead.

Nearly late

I posted this week's Morning Prayer link to WhatsApp, just after Thought for the Day this morning. With a funeral at nine forty five at Thornhill, I had to be ready to be collected by nine fifteen. Normally funeral chauffeurs arrive ten minutes early. Today's was seven minutes late, causing me to panic, as you can never be sure of traffic conditions, driving to the crem. Plenty of slack is necessary. 

On this occasion the usual route along Western Avenue and up the Caerphilly Road from Gabalfa wasn't taken. We went via Llandaff North, Whitchurch then Rhiwbina's back streets to avoid traffic queues, and against the odds arrived just on time as the hearse was approaching the Briwnant chapel. I had to bale out and run to the chapel attendant's room for a briefing and put on my vestments. There was no time to greet the next of kin before we started, and somewhat surprisingly the funeral conductor made no effort to introduce me to them, as is customary in case we hadn't met. 

This was an occasion when I had to arrange the service by email and telephone only due to the amount of time between receiving the request and the service, disrupted also by the Queen's death. It was a case of trusting myself to the situation on the understanding that I'd prepared as well as I could. I was relieved that many people expressed appreciation of the service afterwards, but I didn't appreciate having to deliver it under that kind of pressure.

After lunch I welcomed to the house a couple of friends and and couple of family members of the man in Llanfair Road whose funeral I've been asked to take - on Clare's birthday, as it happens. By the time we'd finished we had an order of service and a basic plan for other arrangements as well. Then I went out for my walk in the park. 

Pontcanna Fields now has a tall mobile platform positioned next to the mobile TV control room, to film the King's helicopter landing. The perimeter of the field to be used is marked out with a boundary of blue string, but no security barriers. It's odd. Maybe they're not expecting people to turn up and watch. Or maybe a wider security cordon will be imposed with armed personnel to keep the public away. There has been no specific mention of the landing site, perhaps for security reasons, although it's obvious. It could be that the transfer from helicopter to limousine for the ride out of the park to Llandaff is planned to take place at such speed that no other measures are required. I'll find out when I go there tomorrow morning. Access to Llandaff Village will certainly be controlled, to ensure residents get the benefit.

There was nothing of interest to watch on live telly tonight, so I turned to More Four Walter Presents and found a new French crimmie series to watch, based in Strasbourg, featuring a hypocondriac detective inspector. The investigations are serious and keep your attention but the interactions between characters are often humorous. The regional accent takes a little getting used to, but it's entertaining viewing..

National pilgrimage of farewell

After breakfast I went to the Eucharist at St Catherine's and signed the Royal Condolences book, set out in the Lady Chapel with the Queen's portrait and lit candles. There were ten of us. It's Holy Cross day today, also Amanda's birthday. We'll go over to see her on Monday next and watch the Queen's funeral with her on telly. Talking of funerals, I had a call about another funeral at lunchtime. That'll be the third since I got back from Estepona.

I collected this week's veggie bag After church, containing another freshly picked giant lettuce which will last the whole week, as long as we eat some every day. I bought some cherry tomatoes and apples from the church garden as well this morning, so we have an abundance of fresh produce at the moment.

After lunch, I worked on next week's Morning Prayer and Reflection for an hour, then walked over to Pontcanna Fields to see what preparations were being made for the landing of the King's helicopter on Friday morning. So far only a large mobile TV control room has established itself on the grass. I walked to the Cathedral where another mobile TV control room and several other vehicles providing power for additional lighting are parked. The Cathedral is ringed by LED floodlights directed at the stained glass windows. If it's a dull day, this will provide extra backlight for the windows to show up well on camera. The mobile control units belonging to a service provider called 'Timeline TV' dedicated to providing  the latest broadcast 4K HD TV signal technology for world news media. The units don't carry the BBC or ITV logo I remember from previous experience of outside broadcasting. All is outsourced to an independent company nowadays.

As reported on last night's Welsh news, Llandaff village public realm has been getting a lick of paint and all excess vegetation cut back and tided up. The painters were just finishing the handrails outside the north west door when I arrived. A press photographers' gallery has been constructed at the top of the hill in front of the old ruined tower and a tented enclosure next to it above the path for TV cameras. All the pavements are lined with crush barriers and High Street is closed. All the main roads in Cardiff will close on Friday as the King moves from Cathedral to the Senedd and then the Castle. I'll be out with a camera, as usual.

The evening news has been dominated by reports of the procession of the Queen's body from Buckingham Palace to Westminster Hall and the ceremonial surrounding her lying in state. Now begins the procession of mourning citizens, hundreds of thousands of them between now and early Monday morning. It's been very carefully planned and seems to be working well in terms of the flow of people, with queues already a couple of miles  in length along the South Bank of the Thames. A million people are estimated to be in London for the funeral, a third of a million paying their respects at Westminster Hall beforehand. An event of this kind on this scale is pretty unique, and will be a triumph of oganisation and public safety if it goes off without incident.

Much as I have admired and respected the Queen since I was in the Scouts over sixty years ago, I can't imagine going up to London to participate. Quite apart from having pastoral duties here, I find large crowds of any character hard to cope with. Travelling in London is taxing enough at the best of times, but on an occasion like this, even more so. I'm grateful for the TV eye view instead, even if the commentary that accompanies it is unrelenting, repetitive and often unnecessary. 

Being able to offer a requiem Mass for the Queen and preach about the meaning of her ministry to us as a nation has been at the core of my mourning. Watching all the ceremonies surrounding succession and laying her to rest is a kind of vigil, praying for continuity between mother and son un-disrupted by contention and strife. I'm sure security everywhere is at the highest level, but discreet, not invasive or self promoting, making it possible for all participants to pass this sad time 'in rest and quietness', as the second Collect for Evensong prays. We live in such uncertain times facing so many great problems. We lose a beloved Queen whose presence reassured the nation that it is possible to cope, to come through crisis together. But I don't believe we will lose what we received from her during my lifetime.

The last episode of this series of 'Shetland' tonight. Another crime drama set in a beautiful environment. A complex mystery solved, and a career ending decision for the key protagonist. Another series is promised next year, but there'll be a change in the island's top cops. Who will inherit the mantle?

Egret surprise

Clouds and intermittent drizzle throughout the day. Mournful weather perhaps? The King was in Northern Ireland. Cardiff is gearing up for his visit on Friday to Llandaff Cathedral and the Senedd. Will we see him arrive in Pontcanna Fields by helicopter I wonder? I hope to be out there with my camera.

Clare's study group arrived for a two hour session at ten, so I confined myself to upstairs, tinkering with my Linux laptop, working out how to download and install an operating system upgrade without losing its data. I couldn't get the in built data backup program to work at all. No idea why. I slipped out for a walk around Llandaff Fields, and when I returned, cooked lunch.

Then I had more work to do on the eulogy for Thursday's funeral, before going out with Clare for a walk down to Blackweir. To my surprise we saw three egrets close by - a solitary one near the weir and a couple on the edge of the bank down-river. A solitary one I've seen up-river near the Western Avenue bridge several times this year, but this is the first time I recall seeing egrets in this vicinity. I wonder why? Normally egrets are found a couple of miles up-stream by Fforest Farm and Radyr Weir. The only thing that's different is the much lower level of water in the river. Has that affected their food supply?

After supper, I watched the last episode of 'Redemption' with the crime exposed and offenders paying the price outside the judicial system accidentally, but then there as a coda about the importance of family life and bonds, how these can be can forged voluntarily, not just a matter of genetic kinship. Italy, like most other countries in Europe has experienced a decline in family life, decreasing fertility, impermanence in relationships, work and career demands forcing people to live further away from each other, weakening natural bonds of affection, so that kin become more like acquaintances. In a sense the whole story reflected that sense of how much and how little we may know about each other.

This was followed by the last of Michael Portillo's travelogue series walking coast to coast along the Pyrenees, reflecting on his father's escape from Spain to France during the Civil War. He met several interesting people, including an organic wine grower and a breeder of native tortoises that have become a threatened species whose decline is partly due to them being rounded up and used as domestic pets, out of an environment in which they can breed and flourish. Now they are too thin on the ground to reproduce in the wild, and have to be bred in captivity and then released. They're all micro-chipped so that they can be identified when found in the wild, giving researchers and idea of how far they spread from where they are released. Fascinating.

To be seen in the flesh

An early start for us today, driving to Clare's nine o'clock appointment at Llandough Hospital osteoporosis clinic. I met Rufus for a catch-up chat at Cafe Castan at ten thirty. We drank coffee then walked with his young Schnauzer around Llandaff Fields. A slow process with so many other dogs being walked out there for a curious puppy to check out.

I had to leave Clare to return by bus, as we didn't know how long her appointment would be. The journey is just twenty minutes by car, but it took her over an hour to return, what with waiting for a bus, the ride to Canton and then a walk home.

When I got back, I did the weekly stint of hoovering the carpets, then cooked a chick pea curry for lunch. I spent time this afternoon preparing a eulogy for the funeral based on notes received in an email. This is for a service I'll be taking on Thursday this week. I also received notification of another funeral at the end of this month when Mother Frances is on holiday. The deceased lived just around the corner in Llanfair Road. Clare was aware of his demise from the local WhatsApp group I'm not a member of.

After a siesta, an hour and a half walk in the park. We learned from social media that King Charles will arrive for the service at Llandaff Cathedral this coming Friday by helicopter landing on Pontcanna Fields. I wonder how close the public will be able to get to see him arrive?

The news today is largely preoccupied with the detail of the late Queen's funeral journey to Edinburgh and stop-over to lie in state for the public to pay their respects, with a host of interviews with people sharing memories of encounters with Her Majesty. Since her death it's been like that, in between reports of public events marking the reception of King Charles III as Head of State. 

Meanwhile significant military gains by Ukraine against Russian occupying forces in the north of the country have been given air time as well. What difference this will make to Putin's hold on power remains to be seen.

In the evening, I continued watching 'Redemption', set in the seedy suburbs of Rome far from the tourist hotspots. In addition to being a good detective story about organised crime in the city, it also portrays a bereavement and relationships in a working class family, which has several members who are poorly paid police officers. It's interesting from several angles and well paced. 

Then, the final episode of 'The Capture', a fast moving portrayal of deception, betrayal and unmasking of conspiracies, rather confusing, like watching a chess game. I think I may need to watch it again to understand fully how it all stitched together in an ending which was a polemic against video fakery, an appeal to all citizens to be vigilant against deception, and the importance of encountering and dealing with real people in the flesh, not on screen, which is universally at the heart of the rule of law. In this context, as I said yesterday, public ceremonies surrounding the establishment of a new Head of State make even more sense. 

Cathedral closed

When I left home to drive to St German's this morning at ten fifteen, I took my usual route through the city centre only to find the road was already closed to traffic because of the Accession Proclamation at the Castle at the junction with Cathedral Road. When Castle Street was closed to traffic previously, diversion signs were erected one junction earlier at the junction with Neville Street, but not today. There was a large vehicle in front of me and I only saw the 'road closed' signs opposite when it turned into Cathedral Road. Rather than attempt a U-turn, I turned right down Lower Cathedral Road, as the junction was clear and it was safe to do so. But this is a no right turn junction. Verboten. I shall spend the next few days waiting to see if this was caught on camera and whether I get fined for doing this. Why this change of established traffic management practice? And where were the traffic Police when needed? This rather upset me.

There were twenty three of us for the Mass at St German's, with black vestments and requiem prayers for Queen Elizabeth. I suspect some members of the regular congregation were simply unable to reach church because of diverted traffic on the north side of the city centre.

Llandaff Cathedral has been completely closed since Friday in preparation for King Charles' first visit to Wales since his accession. That means no Sunday services, except one on-line this morning. I've heard the astonishment in people's voices when talking about this. There's much to organise for an historic service for sure, with representatives of Wales' national and local government, judiciary, statutory and voluntary organisations, plus the armed forces, all in attendance. 

The concentration of society's leadership all in one place at the same time poses a major risk to national security if anything should go wrong. I imagine the security threat level will be treated as high if not critical to ensure everything passes without incident. Closing the Cathedral for a week may be justified on those grounds, as much as for getting the building ready to accommodate a large crowd and media broadcasters. With a Church school just five hundred metres from the Cathedral, I  can't understand why one or more Eucharists couldn't have been celebrated in the school hall instead. Or has the church now become over dependent on virtual participation in the sacraments?

I walked up to the Cathedral after lunch. The doors were shut, but the lights were on inside. There were no noticeable extra security precautions or cordoned off areas. I could hear the choir rehearsing Psalm 121 in the Prebendal House at the hour when normally they'd be singing Evensong. It's hard to make sense of any of this.

I whiled away the evening in front of the telly, watching an Italian series about an ex-cop investigating the death of his own son after he finds the circumstances reported don't match the reality he uncovers. Then, another un-nerving bewildering episode of 'The Capture' in which the story about cyber-crime and video fakery turns into a political thriller.

Twenty years today since the Twin Towers massacre in New York. How the world has changed in the light of that terrible event.

Accession Day

It was good to wake up to sunshine and a day without rain after a long night's sleep followed by a pancake breakfast. Then I finished tomorrow's sermon and next Thursday's Morning Prayer video and it was time for lunch. In the background, news of the King's Accession ceremony broadcasted live for the first time, in the presence of state and church leaders past and present. After the solemn proclamation it was heartening to see the guardsmen kneel to lay down their rifles, then stand to take of their bearskin hats, ready to raise them in three cheers for the king. Whether intended or not, I saw in this moment an expression of personal homage to the new sovereign by men who are by professional soldiers.

Clare cooked me a couple of lamb chops for lunch, stewed with potatoes. She forgot to season them, and the resulting plain flavour reminded me of my mother's home cooking when I was a child. We didn't use a great variety of seasonings sixty years ago, no garlic, few spices or herbs. How life and taste has changed. After lunch I went to Tesco's for a bottle of wine and some flowers forClare, then walked in the park for an hour and a half before returning to watch more news.

Tomorrow the King's accession will be proclaimed in Belfast, Edinburgh and Cardiff at noon, repeating the declaration made at St James' Palace and the City of London. Good to know digital communication hasn't done away with the human element. At a time when video faking is becoming more sophisticated and taking centre stage in a current work of dramatic fiction on telly, the real presence of a person giving the news in front of live audience of witnesses is as relevant as it ever was. It's much more than just being a piece of tradition.

The Queen's body will lie in state in Holyrood House, and then St Giles' Cathedral Edinburgh over two days for people to pay their respects, then flown to London to lie in state for four days in Westminster Hall, giving a longer opportunity for people to file past her coffin and pay their respects. I wouldn't be surprised if the numbers visiting greatly exceed those anticipated. Her state funeral takes place a week Monday.

I spent part of the evening preparing prayers for tomorrow's liturgy, and then relaxed in front of the telly without non-stop news updates with a rerun of ridiculous 'Girl in the Spider's Web' movie before bed. Just for something completely different.

Mourning ritual

Another day of clouds, sunshine and showers. After breakfast I went to St John's to share in the Requiem Mass for the Queen. There were nineteen of us present, and the service was streamed on Facebook as well. Then I went to town, hoping to hear the great tenor bell of St John's City Parish Church, tolling ninety-six times to mark the Queen's passing. I wasn't disappointed. I met Ruth in the porch, welcoming visitors and alerting them to the fact that the  usual midday Mass was going on. She told me Evan Chapman the verger was doing the honours up in the tower's ringing chamber. Good to hear he's still there, over twenty years in quiet service of the church's solemn ritual if not longer to my knowledge.

I recorded some of the tolling, and then went to the Castle for the Royal Welsh Regiment's ceremonial honouring of the departed monarch with a ninety six gun salute. People were queuing along Castle Street in the drizzle to be security checked into the grounds. I joined a crowd of about a thousand others waiting for the salute, scheduled at one o'clock. By the time the ceremony started, the number had doubled. I took nearly sixty photographs and a short video of four out of the ninety six rounds. 

The ceremonial field guns were positioned with their armourers standing watch over them, and then at ten to one the teams responsible for each one in full dress uniform marched to their assigned positions, behind each gun. With meticulous punctuality, they fired a round every ten seconds, beginning as the City Hall clock struck one and ending at one sixteen. Each team then left the field in their personnel vehicle, towing their gun. The crowd was too dense to see all that was going on. For security reasons no vantage points from above were accessible. Press cameras were on a grassy bank about a metre about the field itself.

In the course of taking photos beforehand and trying to keep my camera from getting wet while it was still drizzling, I lost my camera lens cap. When I realised, I retrace my steps, and fortunately a couple and a young girl had spotted it on the ground, and left it there in case I returned. I was lucky! It seemed like everyone in the crowd was taking photos on their phones - hundreds of people with both hands held high in the air to position themselves for their best shots. I wasn't able to get near the crush barrier so my photos weren't as good as I hoped for. Nevertheless, when I reached home, late for lunch I spent the afternoon editing the sound files I'd made and incorporating them into a video slide show, which I thought my sister June would appreciate, and maybe a few others as well.

At six o'clock, before the national thanksgiving service at St Paul's Cathedral, we watched King Charles' first speech as our new sovereign. It was a warm tribute to his mother's vocation and life's work and he included twice his solemn pledge to continue to minister to the nation in the same way as his mother. He acknowledged that his life would change in the light of his new role, but expressed confidence that the things he was passionate about over the past fifty years now had momentum of their own in the hands of many others. 

The service following was good, uplifting music, carefully chosen readings and some new prayers for the departed I wasn't familiar with, but which spoke poetically about the mystery of eternity and resurrection. Such public prayers for the dead in a CofE service back at the beginning of Elizabeth's reign would have led to hard-line Protestants causing uproar, alleging papist inflitration. Not only the world, but the church is a different place from how it was when I was a kid.

End of an era

A day of clouds, sunshine and rain. I posted the link to this week's Morning Prayer upload before getting up for breakfast, then went to the Eucharist at St John's celebrating the birth of the Virgin Mary. A down pour began after I left church and I sheltered in the porch of 'The Corp Market' for ten minutes until it eased off enough to continue walking home. Unfortunately, instead of my jacket getting wet my trousers got soaked by cars splashing through water not draining off the road quickly enough.

News started coming in of concern for the Queen's health as I was cooked a lentil dish for lunch. Members of the Royal Family making their way hastily to Balmoral, suggesting the end is in sight for Her Majesty. After lunch I decided it was time to recycle some old redundant computers, all still working under Linux, but not with the speed and memory capability I need these days. I took three of them along to Davey at Tourotech who acts on behalf of a colleague with an IT recycling business whose shop nearby closed during the pandemic. They all fitted into one laptop bag and its was very heavy to carry. 

This leaves me with five computers of various ages, all used for different purposes and situations. One is twelve years old, running Windows Vista, retained because it drives my photo negative scanner. I would have to pay as much as the cost of a new scanner to acquire software to run the device on a Windows 10 machine. Best to keep the old machine until there are no more negatives left to scan. 

Another machine is ten years old with a solid state drive running Linux. Then there's a Chromebook, a Windows 10 laptop and a Windows 10 workstation with a big screen. Crazy really, but all have their uses on different occasions. It's strange to have a phone powerful enough to use for emails and text messaging in any time or place. I spend far less time now sitting writing at a desk or table because I can do short pieces of business and check information on my Blackberry instead, despite the risk of getting repetitive strain injury from one fingered typing.

By the time we were sitting down to supper, news of the Queen's death was being announced, and all normal programme schedules on radio and telly were suspended and given over the reporting on the event and reactions to it world wide, and no wonder. So much has changed in the world over the past seventy years of her reign, appointing fifteen prime ministers, from Winston Churchill to Liz Truss over ninety percent of my lifetime. The Prince of Wales became King Charles the Third around six this evening. Despite the rain, crowds of mourners are gathering outside Buckingham Palace, Windsor Castle, Balmoral and probably Sandringham as well. 

Our churches are opening for prayer, There'll be an extra service at St John's in the morning, a Requiem Mass for the longest serving Queen in the past Millennium. King Charles takes the mantle of continuity, and will wear it in his own way. I hope and pray his long standing advocacy on environment issues will continue. He was right to speak out, and those who mocked him are proved to be the fools, in a light of the climate crisis. May Queen Elizabeth rest in peace. Long live King Charles.

Welcome to wi-fi calling

More clouds and showers today. After last night's direct message exchange with the EE helpline about the booster, another response which explained exactly how to find the Android o/s option to switch on wi-fi calls from a mobile phone, with no need for a clumsy complex app to intervene in the process. I switched on Clare's phone first, but thought my Blackberry was too old to include it, but when I tried the same routine I found the switch in a menu I didn't know existed, and now we can both make wi-fi mobile calls, as long as we're within wi-fi signal range. Best of all, I don't have to buy a new phone for now.

I had a welcome email from my friend Valdo in Aigle, recommending, if I needed a new phone, the Fairphone 4 which Ann-Lise bought last year and is very pleased with. It's built to be easily repairable, is manufactured in an eco-friendly way with materials ethically sourced. It's made by a Dutch company, guaranteed life of five years, and available though EE. It costs £500 however, more than double what I have ever paid for a mobile phone. But, it would be worth it if the Blackberry died. Battery life is half what it was when new and it is rather battered looking, but it still soldiers on. In reality I don't make that much use of the phone for making calls. I use it a great deal as a pocket computer in effect, more on wi-fi than on the 4G network. I don't use the available weekly allowances with my PAYG SIM card, so taking out a monthly contract and paying for a new phone over two years, as is the standard practice nowadays, in order to have fabulous amounts of data and calling time seems a pointless expense.

I drove to St Peter's Fairwater to celebrate the midweek Eucharist with over twenty people present, and joined the congregation for coffee in the hall afterwards. Among the worshippers was Jane Fenwick, wife of Fr Richard, a priest contemporary of mine, out this morning covering someone else's midweek service. We haven't met since they both stayed with us on a visit to Geneva over twenty five years ago. That was a delightful surprise.

When I returned there was the weekly veggie bag to collect, and then after lunch a grocery shopping trip to the Co-op before taking a walk in the park. When Clare went off to her Pilates class before supper, I recorded and edited next week's Morning Prayer audio. Later, I watched this week's episode of 'Shetland' and avoided the news, which is all about the Prime Minister's first day, and how the media pundits view her performance. All pretty tiresome really. 

Bye bye booster

A mild and cloudy start to the day. Clare went off to her study group after breakfast. I archived my latest photos from Spain and prepared lunch for Clare's return, The news media are obsessed with the state ritual of handing over the role of Prime Minister from Boris Johnson to Liz Truss, and endless speculation about her cabinet appointments, policy plans, and whether or not her first speech will be broadcast from outside Number Ten or indoors if it rains. An awful waste of time in my opinion.

I went for a walk along the Taff after lunch, saw and took photos of a solitary egret on the eastern shone, a place where I've seen just one hunting for food on several occasions in summers past. Apparently there are more of these birds upstream around Forest Farm area, but I've only ever seen a single one this far down.

We had an early supper as we had a six o'clock rendezvous with Fountain Community Choir members at a house twenty minutes walk away from home at the city end of Canton. Ten of us gathered to rehearse for a concert before Christmas of mediaeval liturgical and devotional music, some interesting and challenging things to learn. I felt completely out of my depth, and my vocal cords were stiff and unfit. The music was all new to me, and will be fun to learn. The rehearsal and concert schedule shaping up cuts me out of any more locum duties this side of Christmas, and that's just as well, given the gaps to be filled in maintaining the ministry of the church to its faithful remnant in coming months. I expect to be busy most Sundays and on weekdays.

Mother Frances has joined the singing group. I really hope she finds it's a fun adventure. As we arrived she sent me a message about a funeral a week Wednesday. Tomorrow I stand in for Emma at Fairwater's midweek Eucharist.

Our EE signal booster has stopped working, after seven and a half years of pretty decent service. I got in touch with EE by Direct Message and was told that the device was being phased out, replaced by 4G voice over internet mobile calls. Well and good if it works, but we can't get enough 4G signal on the ground floor of the house to be able use this facility - IF we have a phone designed to do this. Clare's phone does, my Blackberry is too old. There we are, built in redundancy at work. And no compensation. The signal booster and my phone are destined to become electronic waste for no good reason, and there's been no improvement in mobile phone service in the house since we moved in.

 

That voice again

Cloudy and dull for much of the day. After breakfast, a return to hoovering to start the week's chores. Then I worked on making the video slideshow for this week's Morning Prayer upload, and posted it to YouTube ready for Thursday. 

At lunchtime the Conservative party staged a big media event to announce the election of Liz Truss as the new Prime Minster. She has a huge and difficult agenda to tackle, including uniting the Tories in support of her leadership. Not all parliamentarians are happy with her election since she was not the MPs' choice of party leader. Who she chooses as  her cabinet, and what policies she can gather support for remain to be seen. So far, there's not much of substance to go on.

I walked along the Taff in the afternoon. Recent rain has washed most of the green algae downstream, and the flow of water over Blackweir is a little more than it has been for months in this dry season.

As I walked into the house on my return, the jingle and disembodied voice saying I'm here' re-opened yesterdsy's disconcerting mystery. I looked again at my phone Bluetooth settings and found that it was registering the presence of a Samsung TV presumably at number fifteen next door. I suppose the voice is a notification that a connection is possible if within range to retain a connection, which I couldn't as I moved around the house.

My fitness tracker which also uses Bluetooth then crashed, and needed rebooting, possible only by inserting into its charging cradle. Did the signal from the TV interfere with the tracker signal and cause it to crash? Maybe, but no idea really. It's all just a nuisance at the moment.

Thunder and lightning visited us in the evening, and rain, though not a lot. I took a lovely photo of a rainbow over the rooftop beyond our garden.

After supper, I saw half of an interesting programme on BBC Four about Maori Art, then this week's Blacklist episode, and then this week's second (actually fourth as there are two a week) episode of 'The Capture', which was more complex to follow with several different story threads running in it. A bit puzzling, but calm after the storm of last night's episode.

Uninvited voices

I slept for nearly nine hours and got up a lot later than usual for a Sunday. It's quite a while since I did this. The accumulated tiredness of the past couple of months of coping in a very different environment is now being compensated for, I think. It was lovely to return to St German's and celebrate Mass among friends again, twenty seven of us in church altogether. 

After the service over coffee, plans were being made for the coming Christmas Fayre. The Ministry Area is short of a priest now that NSM Ruth has been moved across the city. That's very tough for Stewart, the Ministry Area Leader to have to arrange cover for. Glad I'm still able to help him.

When I was getting in the car to drive home, my Blackberry emitted a short jingle, then a sultry female voice saying "I'm here." It happened again five minutes later when I was driving in traffic. It happened for the first time yesterday when we were out at Porthkerry. When I examined my phone on each occasion nothing was showing to indicate the origin of the disembodied voice. Hacked or not? Most un-nerving. 

After a delicious lunch of salmon with corn on the cob, plus Porthkerry blackberries and apple crumble for pudding, I thought I'd better investigate. Nothing showed up in the instant message or SMS apps, nor in WhatsApp, Instagram or Gmail. My phone is linked to the wristband step tracker I wear through a Bluetooth channel, could this be the source of the intrusion? Indeed it was. The Bluetooth settings had a single item in it - the link made two weeks ago when I used the chaplaincy's Bose loudspeaker to link to the funeral music playlist I'd prepared for the service I took. That speaker is two thousand miles away from here, but I think this must have established an open 'listening' channel able to sense any Bluetooth speaker that comes within range. 

Indeed, St German's also has a Bluetooth speaker. I recall deleting its registration from my phone's  menu in Spain, when I was setting up the Bose speaker to use there. Many people have Bose Bluetooth devices in their cars and homes. Come within range of any of them and you get the disembodied voice inviting you to pair up, whether or not you need or want to - unless you delete the registration of the device in your Bluetooth settings.

I find this very disturbing. Firstly the disembodied voice can be distracting just at the wrong moment if you're driving or working on something critical. Secondly, this open channel could be used by a hacker with know-how to access your phone without you knowing or agreeing and dump nasty stuff on your phone, or extract personal data from it. An old fashioned cable connection is far more secure!

Clare went out to meet with members of her meditation group for coffee. I walked to Llandaff Cathedral in time for Evensong advertised on its website at 3.30pm, but found out it was at four instead. I enjoyed half an hour's meditative quiet before the service, which was said with a few hymns this week. Canon Jan va de Leley officiated and we chatted briefly afterwards. I was delighted to discover that she'd been head of Religious Studies at Aiglon College in Switzerland, a place where I took services on locum duty in Montreux.

After supper, I binge watched a French mystery thriller series called 'The Chalet', about revenge in a sub-Alpine village. It contained a lot of flashback scenes, presented without distinction between past and present, and given that the cast of characters was quite big, figuring out older and younger selves made it complex to work out who is/was who. Nice scenery however. Then, an episode of 'The Capture', fast paced, and confusing, but deliberately so, as the storyline is about real time video faking, false flag operations and cyber warfare, in which the characters in the drama are being deceived and confused by the manipulation of all their communications channels, audio and video. This was so powerfully and convincingly done I felt completely caught up in it. A disturbing view of tomorrow, especially in the light of uninvited voices coming from my phone.

Discovering MuseScore

Another dull day, brightened by a pancake breakfast followed by a lie-in. Then a trip to Canton Cobblers to collect my repaired shoes and sandals. The shoes were finished, but my sandals had been in a queue of other sandal repairs, and hadn't been done, so I'll have to wait until next week.

Clare received an email with an unreadable zip file attachment on it from the music transcription service of the Royal National Institute for the Blind. They have a specialist volunteer team  helping those losing their sight to continue normal activity by making large print copies of music whose notes or text layout is too cramped or too small for easy reading. It's not as straightforward as enlargement, as the layout of text in relation to music contributes to legibility issues, a digital re-write is needed using a special app called MuseScore. Clare's file attachment was not only zipped but in a special .mscz MuseScore file format.

Clare's laptop runs under Linux Mint, and initially the .mscz file was unreadable. I emailed it to myself and tried without success to read it on my Chromebook, so tried again on my Windows workstation. This told me to look in the Windows App store, where I found and downloaded MuseScore3 for free. This was able to display and print the file as intended. Then Google told me there's a Linux version, so I installed it on Clare's laptop for future use. It's a nice piece of work. You can create your own music files using it as well as files others have created.

Clare cooked a delicious salmon soup for lunch. Afterwards, I finished and printed tomorrow's sermon. Then we drove to Porthkerry Country park for a walk tea and cake. The sky remained overcast threatening rain but it didn't arrive. For supper I cooked myself a pasta sauce with red pepper and tomato - things Clare's diet forbids. Then I recorded next Thursday's Morning Prayer and Reflection.

Sustainable lifestyle?

An overcast day throughout. After breakfast, I worked on next week's biblical reflection. For a change we then went for a walk and a coffee at The Summer House in Bute Park, returning for a late lunch. On the way out a young couple stopped us and asked us about the street, what it was like to live in, as they were looking at one of the houses for sale. 

They're intending to live part time here and continue living and working in London. Another of the houses in the street is occupied by someone whose family are still in London, but works here, commuting home on weekends. What you can do if you're well paid! But will this displaced kind of lifestyle last in the light of soaring coast of living and inflation? We'll see.

In this morning's post was a new Post Office Money card, replacing the one that expired two days ago. I had no idea that a replacement would be sent to me automatically. It's arrived later than planned perhaps due to postal strikes. If I'd known, I wouldn't have acquired another card. Having emptied the expired card by transferring its balance to the new card by phone, I now have a second card to use. I could  load it with a small amount of sterling and use it for occasional internet purchases on websites I haven't used before, as a security precaution. I'll have to think about it. I'm not so keen on internet shopping.

Upgrading work on the house next door continues at a pace. The roof of the rebuilt extension will be put on early next week. The attic dormer window is complete, and scaffolding at the back of the house was removed this afternoon. The lorry collecting it blocked the street to traffic for several hours.

After a siesta, I went for another walk around Thompson's Park, making sure to use a route that obliged me to climb both sets of steps - good for the quad muscles. There was nothing much worth watching on telly, so I spent much of the evening writing a sermon for this Sunday at St German's instead.

Fish shopping

I woke early and posted the link for today's Morning Prayer to WhatsApp before getting breakfast ready. On the way to the Eucharist at John's early, I shopped for food bank items at Tesco's in order to leave them at church for collection. There were just seven of us today. Linda has kindly agreed to drive me to St Joseph's after the service on Thursday three weeks hence when I have my cataract operation. Over coffee we talked about opening St John's for a 'warm church' morning on a day when there are other community activities during the day and the church heating needs to be on. With churches paying business rates for energy it's hard to see how any heating is going to be affordable. We must hope that the Lord provides!

I cooked rice and veg with mussels for our lunch. After a siesta we walked into town to buy our monthly consignment of fresh fish for freezing. We omitted to bring a freezer bag with us, but bought one from the fishmonger's stock. It's a good sized bag branded stylishly with E. Ashton's Ltd, Fishmonger (est.1800) on the side and top. Normally I hate any design which carries product branding, but this is an exception as it's a Cardiff institution to which we have regular recourse for supplies.

We then went to John Lewis for a cuppa before returning home on a 61 bus. Unfortunately the young man who served us at Ashton's had put ice in with the fish in the freezer bag, but not contained it in a plastic bag of its own. By the time we were on the bus, some of the ice had started to melt and left a trail of water on the floor. It didn't smell fishy, as everything inside the bag was neatly wrapped up, but the sight of a fishmonger's bag leaking was embarrassing, suggesting a smell without producing one.

After supper, I watched the second episode of Michael Portillo's travelogue through the Pyrenees, and then the first two episodes of 'The Capture' series two. A cleverly devised political thriller about deep fake video technology, able to work in real time without lag or distortion. It's science fiction, but may be possible sooner than we think. The bad guys in this story are, or seem to be so far the Chinese, and it probes assumptions, stereotypes, and disinformation as a weapon of war, much as the recent thriller on Channel Four about cyber warfare expounded Russian efforts of a similar kind. It's a bit like twentieth century war time propaganda drama about 'fifth columnists', designed to alert the public to the enemy in our midst. Except that now the very technologies on which modern life relies so heavily are weaponised and used against us. Disturbing stuff. What have we done to ourselves?