Despite the bright morning sunshine, I didn't wake up until gone eight this morning. When the Radio 4 'Sunday Worship' programme came on it wasn't a conventional service, but a meditative presentation about Edward Elgar's sacred music with readings and prayers included. Fine, in its way, but not the usual live act of worship with congregation and choir. I guess this had to happen during lock-down, but it's become an occasional feature of Sunday's dedicated morning worship slot. I don't suppose the BBC would have made this a part of its programming schedule if there'd been no demand for it, and features of this kind have been in the late evening devotional slot for ages. But, what of those listeners who tune in looking for a live act of worship, so they can imagine themselves part of the congregation, rather than individual consumers of a religious programme product? I think there is a difference.
I so enjoyed celebrating Mass at St German's this morning, with the sunlight pouring in, lifting the spirits. There were thirty four of us in church. Of the twenty eight communicants, four were in wheelchairs, five under 16s, two retired clergy, no longer active, and a mix of people with African and Asian backgrounds in addition to Cardiffian regulars. It's one of those special nurturing congregations where a priest can feel that they receive more than they give out from ministering to people. I stayed late, chatting to people after the service, but remembered to ring Clare and tell her before I left. It was one twenty by the time I got in for lunch, but she'd waited for me, so we could eat together.
I siesta'd for more than an hour after lunch and when I woke up found a message from Frances to find out if I'd be free to take a funeral in two week's time. That's three I've got lined up at the moment. Fortunately, they are well spaced out. June's friend Elaine called me. My effort at fixing the erroneous bookmark in her Chrome browser through remote sync'ing hadn't worked. I was able to explain to her how to edit the list of bookmarks, and at second attempt she succeeded. It's a relief she understood what I was talking about. It seems she had difficulty topping up June's phone, probably because it ran out of credit a while back. When that happens, the number can get relegated to 'dormant'. although it should still be able to make emergency calls and text messaging.
Then a walk around Llandaff and Pontcanna Fields. There's a lot of outdoor socialising going on at the moment and rubbish bins are heaped to overflowing. I wish these throwaway barbecue kits were banned, as they burn into the turf and cause added mess around the rubbish bins, along with takeaway pizza boxes which take up far too much space needed for empty drinks containers. I found one barbecue tray that was probably abandoned yesterday in a remote spot on the periphery of Llandaff Fields. I took it to the nearest bin 150 yards away but there was hardly enough room to cram it in.
Everywhere I recognise discarded plastic bottles and cans in undergrowth or long grass because sunlight is reflected off them. It so mars the beauty of nature I feel I must retrieve them and take them to the nearest bin. All that glistens is definitely not gold! I could get to feel depressed and angry about the carelessness of those who abuse our common land. It's the selfish ignorant behaviour of badly brought up children, no matter how old the culprits may be. Sanctions don't work. Enforcement is non existent, and there aren't enough bins in strategic peripheral locations.
If only the Council would provide extra empty rubbish sacks at overflowing bin locations, where demand for containers outstrips existing capacity. This could actually make the daily clearance operation at peak times much more efficient I believe. There'll always be a few people around to insist that rubbish is at least kept tidily once the bins are full.
We had a phone conversation with Gail in Worcester before supper, to arrange a visit to collect Clare's clavichord which Clare loaned to her husband Mike several years before he unexpectedly died. Where it will fit in the house is something that will need some thought.
There wasn't much of interest of telly, so I went out for a walk around Thompsons Park for half an hour before it closed at sunset. A pleasant aesthetic experience with near horizontal golden rays of sun piercing the trees on top of the hillock and lighting them up. Another gorgeous day, and in Thompsons Park there was only one discarded cider can to take from beneath a park bench to the nearest bin thirty yards away.
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