When I woke up just before dawn, I decided to make the most of having a late start in church. I put a load washing through the machine and hung it out to dry after making breakfast, then started preparing lunch, as I knew the chicken would need long slow cooking. By ten fifteen I was ready, and talking down the hill to church. We were forty three at the Eucharist and I succeeded in remembering to give Communion in their mother tongue to the Finnish children and their dad who were in the congregation.
Afterwards I chatted with a couple who were holidaying from the Poitou-Charentes region of Western central France looking out over the Bay of Biscay. They are members of the Anglican Chaplaincy named after that region, with an area the size of Wales, a network of ten worship centres served by three Readers a retired priest, plus lay worship leaders, but without a permanent chaplain for the last couple of years, just like here at St Andrew's. Impressive to think that its life is sustained mainly by a large lay ministry team. There's a lesson for us in Wales in this, short as we are of volunteer lay preachers and ministers, and still so dependent on Eucharistic worship when there's insufficient priests can be afforded to cover the need.
Having made an early start on a meal meant I was able to eat lunch an hour earlier than previously, and then get out for a walk. I walked along the paseo chatted to Clare on WhatsApp then climbed the hill back to the house. She told me about leaked news of WNO's 2023-2024 season, nothing on the website about this yet. It includes 'Cosi Fan Tutti', 'La Traviata' and a 21st century opera in Spanish by an Argentinian composer called 'Ainadamar' which is arabic for 'Fount of Tears'. It's about the life and death of Frederico Garcia Lorca - such a coincidence, having bought a book of his poems yesterday.
The afternoon was marred by not being able to find my HX90 camera in the house. I went back to church and it wasn't there either, though I was sure I'd put it in my rucksack leaving the house earlier. When I got back, a second search of my rucksack revealed the missing camera hiding at the bottom of a padded pocket. Light enough not to make much of a difference to the weight of the bag. What a relief!
The evening sped by reading with interest Carlos Ruiz Zafón's novela 'El Principe de la Niebla'. It's a really good yarn, written for teenagers, a dark tale of magical powers at work in a seaside pueblo. It's been a world wide best seller, as popular among adults. It's easy to follow and get the sense of, although it's full of words I'm unfamiliar with but can decode from context, unless curiosity about exact meaning calls for a quick look at Google Translate.
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