When the penny drops

Last night was pleasantly warm making for relaxing sleep and late rising. Clare was up early however, and cooked waffles for breakfast. Boris Johnson and Donald Trump are both accusing politicians and officers of the law of conducting a witch hunt against them. Such monstrous egoism! It's amazing that for so long both lied and deceived their way to the top of the pyramid of power and persuaded people to support them. This says a lot about the moral and spiritual health of our respective countries.

In today's post there was a happy Father's day card from Kath for next weekend. The date of Father's day isn't fixed in my mind. She and Anto are going on a cruise along the Norwegian coast this week.

I cooked pasta and veggies for lunch after an idle 'do nothing' morning, perhaps because I don't have to prepare for taking a service tomorrow. There was a layer of cloud, no wind, occasionally penetrated by a few rays of sun, and it's been humid. I sat in the lounge looking out aimlessly at the sky, then fell asleep for an hour. I guess I need to do this given how busy life has been lately with funerals, Sunday services and the weekly prayer video to prepare for.

We went for a walk before tea. Light intermittent drizzle made it necessary to carry and use umbrellas. Too warm to wear a light waterproof. Cricket matches continued, but groups that had gone out to picnic settled down under the shelter of big trees, a rather strange sight.

Discarded in the bushes near Blackweir bridge was a brand new 'bag for life' from one of the supermarkets so I retrieved it and carried it around Pontcanna Field picking up cans, glass and plastic bottles and paper cups, about twenty altogether, a bag half full. And this was on a day when there wasn't a large number of people out picnicking as was the case last week when the weather was much better. I deposited my haul in a bin before heading for home along with the 'bag for life'.  I'm not alone in doing this, reaching polluted places Council rubbish bin emptiers and their mechanical sweeping machines cannot cover. It's another way helping out others after all.

After supper, with no appetite for watching telly, I sat and read Zafon's 'La Sombra del Viento' for a couple of hours. He's a great story teller, and his narrative descriptions and dialogue are funny enough to make me laugh out loud. If I was reading this in English, it might make me smile or snigger. I think the laughter arises because I'm a little slow to realise what I'm translating is funny, and laugh when the penny drops. It's a different kind of entertainment, I suppose. Time passes quickly when I read and then it's time for bed.