Digital distribution dolor

A damp overcast day with bouts of drizzle. I got up early, having lost an hour's sleep by waking up at two in the morning, to find the room bathed in moonlight, as I'd forgotten to shut the curtains. The clouds had thinned out to reveal the Blue Moon I didn't get any clear shots of last night at ten. I'd brought my best two cameras down from the loft to the bedroom in case I did wake up to a clear sky. By this time the moon was fast disappearing behind the gable end of the house where the second chimney once stood, so I took several shots with each, and then returned to sleep. 

I processed the pictures after breakfast. They weren't very sharp, being hand held shots. I didn't have the presence of mind to set up a tripod before going to bed, and relied on automatic settings. Serves me right. Some photos taken with my Olympus OM1-D were interesting as the white clouds around the moon were shown tinged with orange, reflecting urban light pollution I suppose.

I then moved on to drafting Sunday's sermon and finalising this week's edition of the Parish Sway and posting it the link on WhatsApp before stopping to cook lunch. All worked well at this point. After we'd eaten, I had to send out the same link in the weekly email distribution using MailChimp. I followed the instruction notes I'd written but couldn't establish how to send out this week's instead of last week, as the obvious task of finding and using the link edit page didn't work as I expected. By trial and error,  and half a dozen attempts I succeeded in doing it correctly. As for the error bit, I reset this week's Sway link at some stage, which removed access to the web page I created while cloning its content to a new one. Then the proper page link had to be reissued on WhatsApp, to match what worked via Gmail and Facebook.

The ten minute task of checking and sending the MailChimp link took me two and a half hours to sort out and correct. Hopefully, I'll get my head around it all with a few practice runs this week, so it soon becomes a routine. Important that it does as the plan is for me to do it for a six weeks then hand over to someone to be recruited and train them in using Sway and MailChimp if they don't know how. Chatting with Owain after I returned from a visit to the shops and a walk in the park before supper, I discovered that he has used MailChimp for years and is acquainted with Sway, though he has a low opinion of it.  When next he visits us, I'll ask him to give me an expert tutorial on MailChimp's finer points.

Clare had supper early as she went out to explore a new local choir she's thinking of joining, leaving me to my own devices, so I indulged in baked beans on toast for a change. Then I watched this week's episode of 'The Woman in the Wall' on iPlayer. Interesting, complex plot development, but rather too many visuals of the nightmare trauma of an abused woman whose baby was stolen from her in a convent that served as Magdalene Laundry while pretending to be a training school (aka 'reform school', in the language of my youth) for wayward girls. 

Amazing that pious people responsible for such institutions could think they were doing anything good for young people by intimidation and cruel harsh treatment. At one time it was taken for granted, as 'normal'. Thank heavens profound changes in attitude have occurred in the past quarter of a century in how vulnerable disturbed young people are treated. Repentance of a kind, but the loss experienced by many is incalculable. Stories of this kind need to be told. Fact based dramatic fiction, as long is it is true to real life is a good means for exploring such painful issues of social injustice.

Blue Moon night

After breakfast, I went to the Eucharist at St Catherine's, the last occasion for Mother Frances to celebrate there, we were fifteen altogether. Afterwards there was a special round of cupcakes to share, with a bunch of flowers and a card from the weekday worship regulars. We took our leave of each other afterwards in the knowledge that there may be minor issues missed out that we'll need to be in touch with each others about in coming weeks. 

It's good to know she's getting a fortnight's holiday and Cataluyna before starting her new job mid September. Moving is tiring enough, but the job has been especially taxing for her since Emma left for Caerphilly Ministry Area after Easter - four urban churches one full-time priest. Organising Sunday cover alone can be a nightmare, let alone the occasional offices and funerals. Unsustainable, really exhausting. Let's hope her new ministry on Holy Island will put new life into her, more than it takes out!

I collected this week's veggie bag from Chapter on my way home, and then cooked lunch. Waiting for me in the letter box on arrival was a letter from HMRC with a tax refund cheque for nearly a hundred pounds. That was quite a surprise. When I submitted my tax return I didn't think I owed anything, and that I might get a refund for a third that amount. Also surprising was the speed at which this arrived. It's just twelve days since I filed my return. 

Having also received an expenses cheque earlier this week from my locum cover in Caerphilly a few weeks ago, a trip into town to the remaining HSBC branch was necessary to pay them into my account. I used the bus going and returning, but it was five by the time I got home. I paused in Wharton Street on my way to take photos of the gap in the side of the former James Howell department store building. One section facing the street about ten metres wide has been demolished to give construction lorries access to the core of the building where the former Bethany Chapel still stands. In 1963 it closed and the congregation re-established itself in another chapel in Rhiwbina. 

The building was incorporated into the store as it was being extended out from its original site, creating a huge inner courtyard, with corridors linking it to the rest of the building on all sides at ground and first floor levels. It was an ingenious way to conserve this legacy of nineteenth century non-conformist prosperity in Cardiff. Bethany Particular Baptist Congregation was built in 1807, rebuilt 1821-27, then enlarged in 1840, and rebuilt again in 1865. The Particular Baptists were a group embracing a Calvinist interpretation of biblical teaching, which was widespread in its influence on Presbyterians in Wales from the 18th to mid-20th century, and on some independent evangelical movements as well. Churches which are now close to extinction, after being the majority of Christians adherents in Wales as century ago.

When I got back, there was this week's grocery shopping to do at the Coop, which only took three quarters of an hour. Then it was approaching supper time. I did a little work on this week's Sway after we'd eaten, then watched the fourth available episode of 'The Investigations of Lolita Lobosco'. It seems there are another six in the pipeline, but when these will appear is anybody's guess. All four have been a good watch, full of humour and romance alongside a serious crime to be solved, and an account of the protagonists early life and influences, told through a series of flashbacks. 

Tonight, the full Blue Moon rises. I got a few photos, but thin slow moving cloud frustrated efforts to get clear pictures, sad to say. It'll be eleven years before the next Blue Moon appears.

Handover achieved

I slept the usual amount of time, seven plus hours, but it was unsettling light sleep and I woke up feeling thick headed, as if I'd hardly slept at all. It's been a cool cloudy day with showery episodes. Forecasted hot spells this summer have simply not arrived here, or elsewhere in Britain for that matter. 

After breakfast, I had an online rendezvous with Mother Frances to hand over the Parish MailChimp login so I can distribute the weekly Sway link. Login takeover on my laptop was successful, enough to get me started, but I wanted to do the same on my desktop workstation and Chromebook, so I'm insured against a system failure with a critical distribution deadline looming. Enabling a new device to run this web based app requires a secondary access code delivered by email to the Parish Office account. 

With one device secured, I dived into MailChimp, and found a complex user interface, built for marketing and publicity clients, using vocabulary foreign to me. At this point, Frances was about to go to a handover  meeting with Iona, so there wasn't time to finish off. I agreed to join her at Iona's and continue the tutorial on using MailChimp. I've got my handwritten notes now to remind me of what I need to know hands on with this software, but the session itself was not without its worries, as Iona's computer was playing up and the laptop Frances brought didn't have the parish Gmail account details on it to enable Iona to gain access to MailChimp if she could have used her own device, so that's a task for another day. 

When we left Iona's house it was drizzling rain. I didn't have a top coat and Frances was on her bike, so we both got damp. Nevertheless, when she got back, it was possible to get MailChimp to work on my desktop computer. Chromebook can wait for now.There are good reasons for having two stage security working with apps that deal with mail-shots, but it is such a fiddle when you don't have all the account details you need in one place. It's easy to overlook a detail that can stall your progress.

I worked on this week's Sway after lunch with new photos and texts to add, then went for a walk until it was time for supper. Afterwards, I indulged in a third episode of Lolita Lobosco, which had even more comic dialogue in it than the first two, much of it dedicated to pretentious foodie talk. It was about the murder of a popular restauranteur who was also a secret loan shark and child abuser - the dark underside of light entertainment.

The sky was clear of cloud as I got ready for bed and I got a good look at the rising moon as I got ready for bed. I wonder if the sky will be clear tomorrow night when the moon is full. If so, it will indeed be once in a blue moon. Such a cloudy summer.

Story telling partnership

After breakfast a morning of housework, preparing and emailing out next Sunday's scripture readings for the Sunday Eucharist. Clare cooked herself fish and veg for lunch, while I had the second portion of what I cooked for lunch yesterday. I drove her to another session with the homeopath in Thornhill afterwards. While I waited, I walked around the neighbourhood park six times in a hour. 

As today is a Bank Holiday there was little traffic on the road shortening the journey ten minutes each way, a third of the usual journey time. It shows what a difference vehicle congestion makes in a city served by a legacy road system. Work on improving the road alongside Llandaff Fields isn't completed. Temporary pedestrian crossing lights are still in use, a stretch of pavement needs completion and markings for the planned bus lane have yet to be painted on the road. Another fortnight is needed I reckon.

More messaging this evening to do with arrangements for the parish Sway newsletter and its distribution, but plenty of time to watch another episode of Lolita Lobosco, now the server demand for this has either subsided or been improved. This is indeed, high class Italian movie story telling. The author behind the ten episodes listed on IMDB is Gabriella Genesi. She's married to Luca Zingaretti who played Inspector Montalbano and took over running the Montalbano TV series movie production company after the original producer died half way through. 

So, it's no wonder the entire presentation of the stories feels familiar, although that's not to say they are formulaic, only that there's a distinctive sympathetic narrative style to them. The portrayal of persisting traditional old town quarter life in a Puglian port is delightful, and certainly not as squalid as it might have been when we passed through Bari en route for Athens by ferryboat back in 1967. 

Given a voice by transforming tech

Up early today, although I had a late start time for the twenty five minute trip to St Edwards to celebrate the Eucharist. I had time in hand to do some writing and was disconcerted to find that my Huwaei Honor Magicbook laptop (stupid name) wasn't charging as it should. I tried both USB-C laptop chargers in my possession, but neither worked with the laptop, yet both worked delivering a charge to a phone. This led me to conclude that the fault lay in the laptop innards. I had two hours of charge left, and fearing the worst, set about decanting all the data stored on the laptop but not replicated in One Drive on the Cloud to a backup drive. 

It didn't take long, but robbed me of a tranquil start to the day, wondering about my next move, realising it would be expensive to repair, if at all possible, and maybe it was time to replace it. I bought the laptop in June '21 and it was probably around two years old then. The battery by the time I bought it lasted half the original length and the screen had a tiny scar, but it performed well. It's been my workhorse ever since.

There was a congregation of twenty six at St Edward's, including Jo a young man in an electric wheelchair who has been severely from childbirth. He suffers from part paralysis plus palsy, and cannot speak, but he is fully alert to his environment. He's in church every Sunday with a carer. I was completely surprised this morning when his carer re-positioned his wheelchair to face the congregation and held a tablet for him to use. He was able despite his constrained movement to work his tablet and deliver the epistle reading with a suitably reproduced man's voice. 

I learned after the service that Jo had started attending a few years back and asked for baptism eighteen months ago. I imagine advanced technology showcased by Stephen Hawking had given his intelligence a voice, and ability to participate in normal life un-dreamt of when he was a child decades ago. I hadn't been alerted that this would happen. Nobody saw fit to mention it, as it's part of the inclusive normality this congregation takes for granted. I was deeply moved by this, and had to overcome my inner amazement to continue the service as intended.

It was five to one by the time I got home to cook lunch for myself as Clare was at St John's attending the farewell lunch for Mother Frances. I took another look at my laptop, intending to see if there was any data I'd not retrieved before using the remaining battery life to wipe it clean. That was when I discovered the charger had been inadvertently switched off at the wall, by an extension switch I didn't see was facing a different direction to the other switches on the extension. I don't know how I missed that, but it's quite a relief that I don't have to worry about repairing or replacing it. It's charged normally and starts up the way it's meant to once more. What an idiot!

It was gone five by the time I went out for a walk, having sat down for a rest after lunch and eventually falling sound asleep for over an hour. I walked until seven, returning in time for supper and 'The Archers'. I was going to watch another episode of 'Lolita Lobosco' but found an error message and an apology on the Walter Presents landing page, saying their servers had been overwhelmed by viewing requests. Is this an indication of traffic generated by enthusiastic programme reviews, or a denial of service attack on this Channel 4 website, I wonder? 

Instead, I uploaded a batch of photos taken in recent days using my Alpha 68 with a 50mm prime lens in manual mode, something I've not done before. It reminded me of the years I used a Praktika SLR film camera, and got some decent results until the shutter started sticking during my visit to Jamaica in 1981. 

Then I watched the first episode of 'The Woman in the Wall' on BBC1, a crime thriller set in coastal Ireland at the time when terrible stories about the Magdalen laundries started to emerge. It brings to light the terrible trauma experienced, not only by unwed mothers robbed of the babies but other young women labelled as 'delinquent' by idle gossip in days when the church served as morality police in the community and some religious people with power and responsibility for the vulnerable behaved in ways that caused many people to reject Christian faith altogether. A harrowing story.

Owain home-making

Just as we were about to set off for Bristol after breakfast to see Owain's new flat we had a power cut, a rare thing. Clare had an immediate text message notification on her phone to say power would be restored within an hour, but I didn't. Funny, I thought the service providers had both our mobile numbers. It was only twenty minutes before the lights came on again in fact, as happened last time, when the first thing we knew was that the legacy mains connected alarm system started sounding. That has now been consigned to the dustbin. The power was off for twenty minutes last time this happened, and blame was attributed to a squirrel cooking itself on the neighbourhood power transformer. Same again I wonder?

We found our way to the city end of Fishponds Road without difficulty, a lot easier than the rented place Owain is now forsaking for a place of his own. The co-ownership housing estate of 105 flats, where he's at last a home owner was very recognisable and easy to find. The entire block is surrounded by security fences with digital locks, and interior access depends on both a wireless key and a pass-code for each floor. A legacy from earlier times when this was an area with a dodgy reputation. It's a long standing inner city multi-racial, now in the throes of slow gentrification, like other districts of Easton, with house prices rising steeply. Owain was fortunate to find this place, just at an affordable rate on his salary. His flat at the end of a clean and tidy long carpeted corridor on the first floor overlooking the inner courtyard of the complex with a well tended green space and trees.

Already he's made a lot of progress with cleaning and redecoration. This morning his new oven was delivered to go with the hob installed for him by an electrician friend last week. Clare joined him in the task of painting the skirting board of his lounge. He gave me a brief tour of the district when we went out to hunt for takeaway coffees. Later on we went for lunch at Tali, an Indian restaurant in St Mark's Road which we've visited before. Nearby is the former Parish Church, a Victorian church in the Romanesque style converted now into apartments. The former church hall was converted long ago into a Mosque, and after a recent makeover has acquired an attractive dome and beautifully tiled exterior walls. A spelendid example of environmental uplift, even if the legacy church architecture next door stands as a reproach to the failure of the Church of England's mission in an artisan working class community. It's not much more than a mile from where he was born in the old St Agnes Vicarage back in 1978.

We're so happy to see him securely housed, able to settle and make a home of his own at finally. He is impatient and ambitious to get as much done as possible and soon as possible and understandably. A young lad raised in formative years in Geneva, with apartment dwelling friends, has ideas influenced by Swiss interior design. He's waited a long time to have the freedom to put them into practice!

It was nearly six by the time we got home again. After supper, I spent the evening making a video slide show with commentary of the photos taken on our visit and uploaded it to You Tube for other family members to see with Kath just now in Spain, Rachel and Jas in Arizona, June in London and Rhiannon in Kenilworth. I reckon a brief preview will be of interest to them.

Picasa revisited

Having woken up and breakfasted at the usual time, I spent the morning receiving and sending messages, some of them to do with setting up communication channels for Sway information. Then I cooked a lunch of sardines and veg, rather hastily, as my concentration was elsewhere, but it turned out all right, if late. They were really tasty. It made me miss Spain.

During the morning, I printed off Sunday's sermon, and then decided to hunt for an an installation file for the desktop version of Picasa to run on my desktop. It's a digital antique but contains some useful features absent from the phased out web version and its successor Google Photos. It took me a while to find it on an archive hard drives. Installation didn't take long, but it took even longer, half a day in fact, for it to scan my OneDrive account to collect thousands of linked thumbnails of every graphic file it contained. A useful tool, worth having as a stand alone graphic editor and file manager.

I went for a walk after lunch. I took my Sony Alpha 68 and made some progress in understanding how to get good results from a 50mm prime lens. I took a decent photo of a butterfly I've not seen before and have yet to identify. Funny how I've come across several different butterflies this week alone, more than during the rest of the summer.

After supper, hunting for something new to watch I came across 'Lolita Lobosco', an Italian crimmie about a detective Superintendent who returns to her beautiful native port city of Bari in Puglia after working up north for decades. She had grown up in the heart of the urban village at the heart of the city, so there are flashbacks that help to explain her as a person. I enjoyed hearing the Italian spoke clear and found I could understand most of it, thanks to similarities with Spanish.

The crime story line is worthy of Montalbano, but it's set in what is in effect a family comedy with superb dialogue and a deep dive into social and domestic customs. I've not ever laughed as much at a crimmie. It rang true for a boy who grew up in a village. Delightful to watch. Refreshing. A great treat for the weekend.

Web bureaucracy

Awake in time for 'Thought for the Day' then I posted the Morning Prayer link to WhatsApp before getting up for breakfast. Then I finished next Sunday's sermon, and worked on a biblical reflection for the week after next until it was time to help Clare cook lunch. 

Afterwards, I found the Parish Sway web-link had  already been posted to WhatsApp by Andrew, to whom I'd already sent the link for posting on Parish Facebook pages yesterday. I thought I was meant to do the former, but when I thought about it, having one person dealing with posting links to both Meta products is a good idea. I discussed it with Andrew and found he was happy to do this. Frances posted the Sway link on the MailChimp circulation list as I'm still waiting to get access to it. Next week she'll be on her way to her new posting in Northumberland, so I hope the MailChimp access code comes my way by then, or the distribution will be less comprehensive than intended.

On my afternoon walk in the park, I spotted a Red Admiral, a cabbage white and got a photo of a Speckled Wood with my Sony HX90. Back in Clare's garden I took a few photos of bees foraging for honey with my Sony Alpha 68 using the 50mm prime lens that I rarely use. I wanted to find out what it can and can't do well, and was pleased with the close up pictures it produced.

Before supper I continued preparing the Morning Prayer text for the week after next, then in the evening, feeling relaxed and in the right frame of mind, I recorded and edited this and the reflection to go with it, made the video slide show and uploaded it to YouTube. It's good to be ahead with this for the moment, as I don't know what extra time and effort will be required for the weekly Sway newsletter until I get used to a routine with it. It may not take long when you're used to it, but it's in nobody's interests for it to become a rushed job or disrupt the rest of life too much. I need plenty of sleep, that's for sure! And so to bed.

Sway challenge

I woke up to sunshine just in time for 'Thought for the Day'. After breakfast, a walk to St Catherine's to celebrate the Eucharist of St Tydful's day with ten others wondering with them if this Celtic saint about whom next to nothing is known, except that she was a princess who was murdered in a fifth century war between pagan and Christian tribes. We know only of her death and burial in an unknown location at the head of the Taff Vale, where some time later a village sprang up bearing the name Merthyr Tydful. There's no story told of defiant heroism witnessing to her faith, as is the case of most early Christian martyrs, by her name persists a yet another testimony to the brutality of violence against women down the ages.

After coffee and chat, a walk over to Chapter to collect this week's veggy bag then home to cook lunch in time for Clare's return from a visit to the Royal Welsh College to buy tickets for five different shows there over the next three months. Then I needed to collect my summer jacket from the cleaners on Cowbridge Road, and decided to continue a small errand started earlier at St Catherine's, taking photos of the three Canton Churches to turn into a banner image to use for the Sway publication. Fortunately I have keys for all three churches.

Before going to St John's, I called into Tesco's and bought this week's Foodbank contributions to leave in church. After opening a couple of visitors from Pontarddulais came into church to look around. They said their son lived nearby, and although they'd visited him before they'd not found the church open. I'd already taken the photos I needed, and sat quietly while they had a good look around. A group of young pilgrims from Germany are stopping over in the church at them moment. The Lady Chapel chairs had been removed and the floor was covered in sleeping bags. A special meal was laid on for them tonight after time of worship streamed on-line, which I didn't get around to watching as I was busy with Sway.

Next, I took a bus to Victoria Park and let myself into St Luke's to take a few photos there as well, then took another bus back to get to the cleaners and pick up my jacket before returning home. Inside the bus shelter by the park, I noticed that a new improved LCD display bus timetable had been introduced. I've seen these elsewhere, but the roll-out across the city has been slow. I wonder if the network carrying the real-time data to the display is an improvement on the former unreliable device? We'll see.

Having collected my newly cleaned coat, my first task when I got home was to edit the photos and make a collage of church exterior images. Back in the days of the Picasa desktop app this was straightforward, but its successor Google Photos produced a non-editable collage which for my purposes was useless. I had to resort to making a presentation slide with Libre Office Impress and converting it a jpeg file which would fit where I wanted it in Sway. This was what Google photos wouldn't do.

Doing this, and completing this week's edition ready for distribution took me a couple of hours before supper and an hour afterwards as well, but not before I'd made a batch of bread dough ready for baking. Two loaves were cooked and filling the house with their aroma by the time I'd finished by digital labour.

All I need to be fully operational is access to the Parish Mail Chimp email list. It's been quite a lot of work learning a new tool and producing with it these past few days. Time to turn in already.

Glimpses into the past

When I came down to breakfast this morning, Clare was getting ready to be collected by taxi to be taken to the University Optometry School for a session with trainees being examined in diagnosing glaucoma. While she was out, I did the week's grocery shopping at the Co-op. I then started work on next Sunday's sermon, and when Clare got back she cooked us tuna fish steaks for lunch. I finished drafting after we'd eaten lunch, then went for a walk in Thompson's Park and Llandaff Fields.

Clare left for her meditation group as I arrived home. I had supper while she was out. Nothing seemed worth watching on telly, so curiosity kicked in and drove me to hunt for a set of photos I scanned for my sister ages ago. She had shared one with me which Google photos had randomly presented her with. She had no idea why, and I didn't recognise it was one I'd seen before, though it did look like a picture of hot volcanic lava, which meant the  photo belongs to a set taken either on Mount Etna or Mount Vesuvius forty or fifty years ago.

I fired up my 2009 Acer Windows Vista desktop workstation, the one I still use with my photo scanner, as it won't work with Windows 10 or 11 without me buying a device driver update. Initially, I couldn't get Vista to load when the Acer was connected to the higher resolution display screen I normally use. On the other hand the Linux Mint operating system also installed on the machine and produced a full sized display, and I found the relevant photo file and realised I had scanned them. The quality of the digital scans was very good, and many of my sister's photos were of superb quality and composition, considering how long ago it was since they were taken on film. 

Eventually I realised that Vista didn't work because it never had a hi-res digital display driver. When I switched over to the old Sony TV, of much the same age as the Acer, Vista displayed as it should. It's nowhere near as sharp as the Linux operating system, but that won't run the photo scanner either. I tried and failed on this years ago. It's the curse that goes with devices running on proprietary software.

I rang my sister and told her I'd tracked down the puzzle photo, and told her where she could find it on her laptop, along with all the others I scanned for her over the years. She tells me there are still more negatives and slides in need of digitization. I'm happy to do this, as they give me a window into the world of European travel ten or fifteen years before we started holidaying abroad and taking photos.

Admin challenge

A good long sleep and sunny start to the day. Along with the weeking stint of housework I spent all morning after breakfast getting my head around preparing and distributing via email and WhatsApp the bible texts for reading at next Sunday's Eucharist. It goes with editing the Parish Sway newsletter. Taking on a legacy task isn't as easy as it could have been. It should be easier next time around, as I practiced by doing a set of readings for the Sunday after next, after we'd eaten lunch cooked by Clare while I beavered away at the keyboard. 

Then I went for a walk in the park which took me up to the Cathedral. More trees have been felled there, near the Prebendal House, and along the river bank. It seem there's been a spate of tree felling this summer and I'm not sure why. Many fallen trunks left to decay on site seem to have a healthy core. Some may be removed in a thinning exercise to make room for others, or because there are structural weaknesses in the canopy, or signs of disease. I'd like to know more. when our city councillors return from holidays, I think I'll enquire.

When I returned, the house was quiet, so I took the opportunity to record and edit Morning Prayer and the reflection for the week after next. It falls on what will be Mother Frances' last day in office before she moves to Lindisfarne's Marygate retreat house to work. Coincidentally, it's the feast day of St Aidan of Lindisfarne. 

It's the first time those who deliver the Daily Office are having to write their own. Ruth worked together Frances to produce weekly texts for the team to use and with her departure Ruth has decided it was too much to provide the texts on her own. How this will work out remains to be seen as the months go by. When a new Ministry Area Leader is appointed, things may change again. 

Left to my own devices, there will be deviations from the lectionary provision of Psalms for the day. Many of them are unsuitably miserable, angry and vicious for routine use. I believe it's better to start the day with praise and affirmation, and keep the darker stuff for times of penitence and introspection. It's interesting how the Roman Breviary makes sure that there's always one cheerful Psalm to be recited each morning - at the Office which used to be called 'Lauds'.

Having made the recording for St Aidan's Day I went on to produce the accompanying video slideshow, and uploaded it to YouTube after supper. That's quite a lot of work for a Monday. The third series of 'Blacklist' started on 5USA tonight. I watched and found it was just as confusing and ridiculous a story line as before. It was all I could find to watch after a challenging day of admin.

Hopeful news for one refugee mother

A moist warm cloudy morning with sunny spells. Up at eight to a leisurely start, driving to St German's through quiet empty streets for the eleven o'clock Mass. With the women's football world cup game due to be broadcast live at the same time, I was pleased to see the usual number in the congregation for worship, although there were a few people searching on their phones for news over coffee later, and resignation as it looked like Spain would defeat England in the last moments of the game. 

One person who was smiling was our Iraqi refugee, who eighteen year old daughter learned this week that her asylum request had been grant without further interviews of procedures, after a five year wait. This means she'll be able to have an identity card and work, which she's keen to do, having just finished a business course at college. It seems this unexpected move may accelerate her mother's request for asylum, enabling them both to begin a new life together in the place where they have both found freedom from violence and security. 

Because of the football match on telly the streets were pretty quiet on the home run afterwards, so I was home in good time for lunch, then a quick visit to Tesco's for flowers and wine, followed by a doze in the chair and then a walk in the park. Avoiding the news today while the broadcast media recovers from the disappointment of an England defeat by Spain.

After supper I did some more editing of next week's Sway, and prepared the Eucharist readings ready for sending out to those who need them in each of the three Canton churches, which Clare watched a movie I wasn't interested in. Kath sent a message to say they'd just arrived in Alicante for their welcome break in Santa Pola, where it's 28C this evening, 78% humid and feels five degrees hotter, in contrast to 18C in Cardiff, 80% humid and feeling five degrees colder. 

Stirring early for Christmas

Another long night's sleep. Overnight rain, but warmer and clouds slowly displaced by sunshine as the day went on. We had pancakes for breakfast, then I worked on tomorrow's sermon. Coincidentally the Gospel is Matthew's version of Jesus' encounter with the Syro-Phoenician woman and the same story from Mark's Gospel is the lesson at Morning Prayer a week Thursday. Small differences between the versions made it interesting to work with, so I ended up preparing a reflection on Mark's text and a sermon on Matthew's, even though it took me a lot longer than usual.

While I was working, Clare filled the house with the aroma of brandy and spices, as she made Christmas puddings and steamed them. She called me away from the computer to help stir the mixture. A welcome pleasure. It's another three months until 'Stir-up Sunday', but this is a good time of year to allow extra time for maturing them in time for this coming Christmas Day. Once they were cooking nicely, I got to work on cooking us lunch.

Recently I've exchanged messages with Rhiannon on Instagram about her Italian train trip, reminiscing about our first continental train journey from London to Brindisi on the way to Greece by ferry boat, back in 1967. Three years ago I transcribed our travel diary from that adventure. I've just emailed it to her, as she's expressed interest in reading it, now she has her own experience to put alongside it.

I finished writing at four and went for a walk. While I was out in the park I had a WhatsApp video call from my sister June, using her tablet. I installed it for her ages ago but she never really understood how it works. Today, Kath drove down to visit her and gave her some computer coaching. I suspect she's much better than me at doing this, as she's been training to work with elderly people in the field of movement and dance in recent years. It was great to see the two of them together, enjoying each other's company.

After supper we watched a movie on BBC Four called 'Radiation', telling the life story of Marie and Pierre Curie, and their scientific discoveries that transformed medicine during their time and long after, but also spotlighted the consequences of the development of nuclear weapons and the danger inherent in nuclear power in vignettes of a future unforeseen by them. Fin de siècle chemistry laboratory work, when almost everything had to be done manually, was well portrayed, reminding me of my time as a science student, before electronic analytic technologies taken for granted today became tools in common use. How much the world of science has changed since then!

Tax-ing day

I woke up refreshed after an eight hour sleep to another overcast day with occasional rain and dry spells. After breakfast, I spent the morning tidying my office, filing away documents and then compiling all the information needed to submit my annual tax return. Then it was time to cook and eat lunch. We shared the fig that I picked yesterday. It was ripe, but not all that sweet. 

Then, I opened my HMRC account and entered the data I collected. The process was easy enough, and I had no problems until I submitted the completed form. I had an error message about an incomplete page, but was unable access the file to check it. Almost at the same time, I received an email recording the submission of my tax account. It takes three days for HMRC to process, then I will be able to review the file and check to see if there are any errors. It's possible the error message was itself erroneous, but I'll find out next week.

I went for my daily walk in the park after finishing the job. It was almost completely deserted. Only in the last ten minutes of walking did light rain began to fall, enough to make me slightly damp. Earlier, I learned from WhatsApp that Iona has agreed to edit the weekly parish web newsletter. I sent a message of support, and received a response indicating she'd bitten off more than she can chew, having to learn how to edit Microsoft Sway, collect relevant info and publish, with family duties taking up much of her time and attention at the moment. She needs to find someone else to recruit in her place pronto. Having offered her support, I said I'd help until she recruited another.

I thought it would be a good idea to find out how Sway worked. I've consumed its output for the past couple of years without ever bothering to load the app and learn as I had no need to. I accessed my One Drive account on my Chromebook, found the Sway web app in the MS Office collection, and soon got the gist of its functioning. It's simple and fairly easy to use, but gaining familiarity with it for the sake of efficient working is what matters. 

Having received this week's Sway newsletter only yesterday, I discovered when I opened it, that I could make a copy of it to import into the web app. It was possible with care to edit this week's info with next week's, and eliminate redundant data to produce a serviceable edition for checking and circulation. That took me about an hour and a half, then sent Iona the link to what I'd done for checking.

After supper I thought I'd install the Sway app on my laptop. Having done so, I was unable to find the file to open, although it was possible to do just this through One Drive in the laptop Chrome browser. Rather odd but I thought I'd find a workaround somehow. Try as I may, I couldn't get the desktop Sway app to load the file I created. It kept telling my it couldn't access the internet, poor thing.  My laptop was accessing the internet fine in  every other respect. So, desktop Sway was summarily uninstalled. I'll be able to work with the web app version, now that I have proved it does function.

To conclude the day, another episode of I Claudius on iPlayer.

Figs in the park

I woke up and half past six and couldn't get back to sleep, so I posted the Morning Prayer YouTube link on What'sApp, listened to 'Thought for the Day' and got up for breakfast earlier than usual. I had a voicemail from Mother Frances at eight thirty to ask if I'd celebrate St John's Eucharist, as she was afflicted with a severe migraine. I walked there early enough to shop for food bank items in Tesco's on my way to church. Most of the regulars were away. It was just David and I when we started, but my sixth sense was at work, telling me our number was incomplete. Half way through, another person arrived, who attends from time to time when her work schedule permits. Two or three gathered together around the Lord's Table. Funny how this happens.

I returned home, feeling tireder than usual, losing an hour's sleep. I rested in the chair but couldn't doze off, so I got up and worked on next week's Morning Prayer video, while Clare cooked lunch. I had stopped to eat lunch then completed the job and uploaded the video after eating. 

Father Stewart emailed me the dates of Sunday duties he wants me to cover in the third quarter of the year. It won't be weekly as his regular pattern of duty cover required me to fill fortnightly slots, so I can offer the remainder of dates to Area Dean Fr Dyfrig, in case they are useful to him for covering our local double vacancy. According to this week's parish newsletter, he's going to be the interim Ministry Area Leader until an appointment is made. As if he didn't already have enough work on his plate with Eglwys Dewi Sant, Welsh Language Advisor and Area Dean in his brief! 

Anyway, it looks as if I'll be able to celebrate Christmas in the parish this year rather than crossing the city to St German's, as I have done previously. We're hosting the annual festive banquet this year. Then, a few days later, Kath and Anto are off to Australia on a long planned visit to some old friends of theirs.

Clare succeeded in getting a full coat of paint for the shed out of tin we bought, but another is needed for a second coat, so I walked down to Cowbridge Road and took a 17 bus to the top end of Heol Trelai in Caerau then walked the last half mile uphill to B&Q to buy one. I was lucky to wait only five minutes for a 96 bus outside Western Cemetery, which brought me back into Canton, and a fifteen minute walk home. Before supper, I went out again and walked to Thompson's Park, where I checked out the fig tree which overhangs a back garden well next to the park.  

It was covered with baby figs which will take a year to grow and ripen, plus a couple of dozen large figs on overhanging branches unreachable high up. These had over-ripened to the point of going rotten and attacked by wasps. But I found one big nearly ripe fig concealed by leaves on a low hanging branch, which I took home and left to finish ripening next to a large nectarine, due to be eaten tomorrow. A small treat, thanks to our warmish wet summer weather. Next year's fig crop from this tree should be fantastic, if they survive long enough to ripen.

Just as I was going out to the park, Pete the tree surgeon husband of Mandy, a school friend of Kath's came by to inspect the Damson tree in our garden. It's suffering from an infestation which is causing its leaves to curl up. No chance of fruit this year I suspect. Investigation and diagnosis is now under way.

After supper we watched the first episode of 'I Claudius' on BBC iPlayer. It's a classic TV drama made in 1976 with a stellar cast, and amazing acting. I'm not sure we had colour TV when we saw this back then. It was shot on videotape according to Wikipedia. It's acclaimed as one of the best ever TV dramas from the BBC and still looks surprisingly good, especially when you consider its age.

Useful day

I woke up and got up earlier this morning, and just as well, as after breakfast I had to drive to St Peter's in Fairwater to celebrate the Eucharist with a congregation of two dozen. While I was having coffee in the hall afterwards, Iona arrived to collect some play equipment for early years open air session the garden of St Catherine's tomorrow. She arrived by bus and intended to return by taxi, but as I was there, I was able to offer her a lift back to St Catherine's with the things she'd come to collect. Then I returned home to get the veggie bag and went to Chapter to collect this week's order. By the time I returned, Clare had cooked hake and oven chips for lunch.

In the afternoon, she started work sanding the wood surface on the garden shed prior to painting it. When she went out to collect the Beanfreaks order, I took over the task and sanded the other two sides that are exposed to weathering. A horribly dusty task. Then it was my turn to take the trolley out and do the week's grocery shopping at the Co-op. By supper time Clare had given the end of the shed with the door a double coat of paint and realised she hadn't bought enough paint on our Saturday trip to B&Q. We need to return tomorrow and get some more.

After supper I finished next week's reflection, recorded and edited this and the office of the day, ready for making a slide video. Quite a useful day, one way or another.

Hatless again

Another long night's sleep, waking up unhurriedly at nine to sunshine and warmth after overnight rain. I started work on next Sunday's sermon and then cooked lentils and rice for lunch. We had an appointment with Chris for hairdos at three, and with an hour to spare after eating I sat and watched the last episode of 'Enemy of the People', in which the suspected piramid bitcoin fraud is exposed and the murder exposed due to the courage and persistence of the investigative journalist heroine. 

There's bound to be a second series on the way as only only one of the crooks has been caught. The other has absconded with the remainder of the investors' cash, and there's another murder victim yet to be discovered. What's been interesting in the way this story was told, is the extensive use of text messages printed on-screen throughout. Nothing new in displaying a handful, but the main thread in the messages show is the stream of vile abuse and threats from anonymous social media trollers and conspiracy theorists who are in denial about the reality of the bitcoin scam. I suspect many crimmie viewers will not be aware of how public figures with controversial things to say are persecuted by evil minded keyboard warriors who revel in dispatching their poison to others.

We drove to Rumney and after discussion with Chris, I decided to let him reduce the overall length of my hair and do away with the pony tail. Unless I tie my hair back all the time it blows in my face when I'm outdoors as it's now too fine, and thinning out, so I have to wear a hat all the time, to avoid discomfort and distraction from the hair. I don't think it's been good for my scalp, not being exposed to the elements. So, after a thorough treatment and a loss of 3-4 inches length, I can now go outdoors without needing a hat! It was an interesting experience while it lasted. That was the longest I've ever let it grow, but all good things come to an end. Better to cut it before it falls out.

When we got back, I walked for an hour in the park before supper, then uploaded photos from the last week, and gave Rufus some feedback on a forthcoming job application presentation, then went out for another walk before bed, this time in the dark, without a hat again!

A lunch date, but not when expected

I woke up early enough to listen to 'Thought for the Day' and then dozed off again for another hour. After a late breakfast, Monday housework. I was just finishing an email to a local councillor with a suggestion about providing an extra large container at strategic sites in the parks for collecting the sacks of rubbish generated whenever there's a big barbecue or picnic, to prevent them getting dumped alongside ordinary bins and getting torn open and blown apart by the wind. Then my phone rang. 

Rufus was calling to ask if was was about to arrive at the restaurant in town where we agreed to meet with Philip for lunch. For no good reason I believed we were meeting Thursday this week, so I apologised to Clare, having just agreed to cook lunch, and left in haste. I caught a 61 bus and arrived not long after they had started with a drink. It's more than five years since we last met for a pub lunch, so there were lots of stories to tell. They've both been in full time ministry now for ten eventful and difficult years with the church in catastrophic decline, and both wondering what their future ministries in their final ten years of full time work are going to look like. 

Both of them were mature ordinands, one coming from a senior job in local government and the other from a senior training job in industry, both with so much to give, and both deserving of more serious recognition than they've had from the church's hierarchy, which seems error prone and panic stricken in trying to manage its way out of decline in a way that alienates many faithful people. I admire their courage in persisting with their respective pastoral vocations in the face of great discouragement.

After we parted company, I had a look around John Lewis', and then on impulse visited Waterstones, where I bought a paperback copy of Anthony Beevor's magisterial account of the Spanish civil war, 'The Battle for Spain', which I started reading when I found a hardback copy on the hall bookshelf in Casa de la Esperanza in Fuengirola. Now I have my own, I can share it with Anto once I've read it, as he too takes an interest in Spain's Civil War history.

I walked home from there through Bute Park. The rubbish strewn site on the edge of Pontcanna Fields that was the subject of this morning's email was totally clean, since earlier in the day so I tweeted a message of thanks to the Council's Waste Management team when I got home. 

I read Beevor's book for an hour before supper, and afterwards returned to Watching episodes of Finnish crimmie 'Enemy of the People' that I started yesterday. The journalistic investigation that follows a murder has turned into an enquiry into a bitcoin pyramid selling scam with laundering of public funds thrown in, and all sorts of people in public positions being conned into suspect dealings. Though it's a fictional story it describes in a clear way how such schemes actually work in real life. Quite educative really. I'm keeping the final episode until tomorrow, and heading for bed now.

Young pilgrims in Portugal

Another rainy cloudy start to the day. Morning worship was a recording of songs and interviews made at the World Youth Day gathering in Portugal last week, with half a million youngsters getting together with Pope Francis and a huge number of Bishops and clergy from all over the world. The enthusiasm and sincerity of those interviewed was touching, and I was surprised at the warmth of devotion to the Virgin Mary expressed by some, as well as the love they had for the Pope and his teaching. Perhaps that had something to do with the theme of the week being based on the mystery of the Visitation, which was celebrated just as the gathering began. 

I drove to St Edward's in Roath to celebrate the Eucharist with thirty people. The choir of seven sing together very well so it's an enjoyable traditional Sung Eucharist. There wasn't any coffee and chat afterwards, so I was home by a quarter to one.

I fell deeply asleep in the chair for an hour after lunch. It seems to happen on Sundays that I don't sleep so well at night and the make up for it with a good hour after eating. We then went out together for a walk in the park. Clare did a shorter circuit than me and I walked for two hours. Just below Blackweir bridge the four Canada geese passing through made themselves visible close to the river bank, standing right next to the older heron, which was perched on a stone immobile and indifferent to the movement of the geese, within a couple of wing spans away. 

I think there are two almost mature goslings and their parents, to judge by the different sizes of the two couples. One of the smaller ones went on walkabout. The parents got restive and started to honk loudly. Within a few minutes the stray returned. There were several wagtails out on the stone island and an egret too, with a pair of cormorants fishing up be the weir. Only one of the goosanders was around that I could see. That's an unusual amount of variety in one small stretch of river.

In the evening after supper I watched a Finnish crime series, featuring the work of a newspaper reporter into suspicious activities which may be connected with the murder of a famous footballer in Barcelona. One scene took place in Spain and it was good to find that all the Spanish spoken I could understand.

It's an ill wind

Rain before seven fine before eleven. Well, not quite, but the rain diminished to an occasional drizzle in the afternoon, but there were few breaks in the cloud. Not much encouragement to go out or do much else in the morning, but a good walk in the park in the afternoon.

I was disappointed to see a terrible mess on the grass on the site where I'd seen yesterday's grand picnic. Rubbish had been collected, half a dozen bin bags of it, and left by a rubbish bin, but a combination of gulls scenting food to scavenge and strong gust of wind broke open the bags and strewed it across the road and over a field which had been left tidy. The party would have finished hours after the Council waste bin collection had passed by, so it was there all night until the end of Saturday afternoon, when the next round of bin emptying took place. 

If only people would go the extra mile and take their rubbish bags home with them. If only the Council still employed park keepers to monitor large gatherings, and groups of youngsters partying in the fields  leaving dozens of cider cans and plastic bottles behind, and firmly remind park users of their civic duty.

When I got back, I continued reading the last section of 'La Sombra del Viento' more than fifty pages, at a slow pace, to make sure I understood key elements of the novel's conclusion. I finished at eleven and then printed off tomorrow's sermon before going to bed, pondering on a lengthy and complex narrative, which was essentially a detective story about the vanished literary works of a Catalan author, who had disappeared, as did all his published books, all except a small handful retained by collectors. Over 450 pages, and well worth the read.

Saint Clare's day

Another warm and sunny day. I worked on my Sunday sermon in the morning, and then we drove out to B&Q to buy paint to do up the garden shed, and a disc sanding attachment for a power drill. As we set out, I was struggling to make myself comfortable in the car seat and hurt my back with the same involuntary movement that strained the same muscles earlier in the week. I had to be very careful not to make things worse after that, getting out of and into the car and walking, and needed a painkiller and a massage later. When we got back home Clare discovered she already had the same sanding tool hidden away among her jewellery kit, but forgotten about.  But at least we have paint for the shed and for the front railings as both need refreshing, weather permitting, soon. 

We had a delicious salmon soup for lunch, prepared by Clare before we left for B&Q On my afternoon walk through Pontcanna Fields, I saw several extended family groups equipped for a picnic, gathering on the grass, groups of men separate from women and children. So many pushchairs in one place! I've seen this before on a Friday if not a Sunday afternoon. Asian Muslims enjoying the park together in free time at the weekend. Two hundred metres away in a different field, I saw two teenage girls in burkas dancing to music from a portable sound system, making their own statement about what they prefer to do after Friday prayers. One of those moments that make life in this part of the city a delight. 

Down at Blackweir, in addition to the resident cormorant, I saw an egret and a pair of Canada geese on the island of stones in the middle of the Taff. A family of six young goosanders, were swimming upstream, then drifting down with the current. Occasionally several would break out across the current and dive momentarily. I think I saw one with a fish in its mouth when it surfaced. We don't see these birds up there that often. Maybe they just show up when they know there's food to hunt for,

Recently I've seen Japanese Knotweed flowering there, an invasive species giving cause for concern. Its roots will help stabilise the island of pebbles which changes shape under the power of the water flow. The more the stones are bound together by root systems the more the island becomes an obstacle which can increase the risk of flooding. I hope river management people are keeping an eye on this change.

After supper I read for an hour, then watched this week's episode of 'Disturbing Disappearances'. This week the setting was Lyon and the surrounding rural area. All the cases are interesting, complex and very difficult to resolve, often involving personality clashes resulting from the emotive nature of the cases, and so far, all have a happy ending of sorts. I like the fact that the series depicts different regions of France. It's a worthwhile difference.

Tonight sees the peak of the Perseid meteorite shower. The sky is clear, but I'm too tired to stay up and keep vigil on the off-chance of seeing a shooting star - not like when we were young, holidaying and on the way across France by night for a fortnight's camping in the sunny south. Wondrous memorable times.

Slow pastoring

I woke up later than usual and it was eight thirty before I got around to posting the link to today's Morning Prayer on WhatsApp. Frances had asked if I'd take Communion to Sandra at home, something to continue monthly during the vacancy after she leaves for her new job. I first met Sandra twenty years ago at St John Ambulance events in St John's City Parish Church and she's been a lifelong member of the other St John's in Canton, so the acquaintance has continued since I retired. 

I reserved the Eucharist and brought it home yesterday from St Catherine's, proposing to transfer the hosts from the parish pyx to my own. It's so long since I last used my own pyx to take out Communion that it was badly tarnished. I spent half an hour with silver polish, but couldn't get it looking good enough to use. Later on, Clare put it in her jewellery tumbler polishing device which did a really good job - for next time. I drove out to Danescourt and Sandra was ready, waiting to greet me, we chatted for a long while, catching up on news about her extended family, and church affairs before the time was right to pray together. It was lovely to have the time for this, not burdened by a schedule of other duties to perform or visits to do.

The aroma of chick pea curry greeted me when I arrived home, cooked by Clare for lunch, ready soon after I came through the door. After we'd eaten, I chatted with Fr Stewart on the phone about autumn locum duties. The hoped for recruitment of a replacement priest didn't happen, and he's still waiting for knee surgery not knowing when he'll be called, so we've agreed that he can make use of me in his Ministry Area every Sunday for the rest of the year. Then he'll only need to find one substitute while he's recovering and off duty instead of two every other week. Covering West Cardiff Ministry area's two vacancies is going to be a headache one way or another. Emma left at Easter. Recruiting for her replacement should already be happening, but probably delayed until Bishop Mary's arrival. Heaven knows when either recruitment process will actually start.

Straight after lunch, I drove to Newport to see Martin and work on the detail of making a database of his collection of fine Japanese pottery. I couldn't find software that I could use on the iPad that was charged and handy while we discussed, so I ended up doing a simple data framework on Google Sheets using my smartphone and emailing it to him to play around with later. We parted company in time for me to get home just after six and go for a walk to stretch my legs before supper. I went out again and walked for an hour after we'd eaten, then settled down with my Spanish novel until it was time for bed.

Celebrating a woman with a mission

Sunshine returned at dawn, and today is slightly warmer than yesterday, 21 degrees by lunchtime. I went to St Catherine's and celebrated Mass with seven others, remembering today Mary Sumner, founder of the Mothers' Union, a parson's wife who catalysed a world-wide women's movement to educate and support women home making and raising families in an era when industrialisation uprooted millions escaping rural poverty, drawing them to work in urban areas, where re-establishing home and community life was an uphill struggle. From its beginnings in parochial pastoral care, the Mothers' Union grow into a women's global network long before feminism.

After coffee and a chat I had to return home and collect the empty veg bag which I'd forgotten to take with me to church, and then go to Chapter Arts to exchange it for a full one, while Clare was cooking lunch. In the afternoon I made the video slideshow to go with the recording of Morning Prayer made yesterday and uploaded it to YouTube. Then I did the week's grocery shopping at the Coop and Tesco's before supper, and an evening reading more of 'La Sombra del Viento'. 

I wanted to watch the much publicised first episode of the second series of 'Annika' on Alibi, through the UKTV app but it doesn't live stream what's currently on air, as I discovered after wasting a lot of time finding this out. I gave up and went out to stretch my legs and get some fresh air, then read several more chapters of the book before turning in.

Conversation ear to ear

It was a cold and damp night, and I had to get up and find a blanket to supplement my duvet in the small hours of the morning, and lost even more sleep as a result. I started looking at the Gospel for next Sunday wondering about a fresh approach to the subject of the miraculous, prompted by the story of Jesus walking on water. Then I stewed veggies with half a chorizo for lunch, as I fancied something spicy. As it had stopped raining, I went for a walk while Clare cooked a tofu stir fry for herself. 

In the afternoon, Clare had an on-line piano lesson lined up. As she had difficulties before getting Skype to work on her tablet, we had a technical rehearsal between her tablet and my laptop. It worked fine both ways, except that I forgot the laptop camera is embedded in the middle of the function key row and not on top of my screen. It's a good app, but it's notable how little use I've made of Skype since the rise of Zoom and WhatsApp in the past three years. Then there's Microsoft Teams and Google Meet on offer as well, though these aren't on my radar at all now I rarely work in a team context. Added to that I make relatively little use of video calling anyway, unless there's something to be seen. Conversation ear to ear on-line is easier and more relaxed than face to face. I prefer that.

I went out for another walk, and by the time I returned Clare had gone out to meditation group. Ruth sent next week's Morning Prayer text, so I prepared mine, then recorded and edited this and a reflection already written, finishing the job just before Clare returned. We had a late supper, then I read more of 'La Sombra del Viento until bed time.

Eisteddfod in Pontypridd next year!

A little warmer and sunnier today, but hardly high summer weather. Housework after breakfast, then I got to work on a biblical reflection for next week's Morning Prayer. Clare was visiting so I cooked lentils with veg and rice for lunch. An hour dozing in the chair afterwards, then I went for a walk in the park taking in the west bank woodland path, where I saw a Red Admiral, moving took quickly to photograph, but then a Speckled Wood butterfly, which settled long enough for me to take this picture.

I sat for a while on a bench by Blackweir bridge, to inspect my butterfly photos. I was joined by an older man dressed in hiking garb, carrying a rucksack. I thought his speech was slightly slurred when he noticed my camera and enquired about the picture I was looking at. Then he produced a bottle of South African Malbec wine, opened it and proceded to swig from it. We chatted about nature for a while, then parted company. Was he homeless? Or just lonely, consoling himself as he walked around from wherever he stayed? 

After supper, I spent a couple of hours reading 'La Sombra del Viento', occasionally glimpsing tonight's S4C National Eisteddfod programme on the Chairing of the Bard. Delighted to learn that next year's Eisteddfod is going to be held in Pontypridd, which is wonderful news, as we'll be able to travel there and back by train. By this time next year hopefully, electrification of the Taff Vale railway line will be complete and the new Metro trains will be running even more frequent services, as intended. Handling huge numbers of travellers for a major visitor event will be a quite a resilience test for upgraded rail infrastructure. Here's hoping it's a success.

Meanwhile, early bed.

Anniversary free gift

I'm used to waking up and getting back to sleep several times in the night, but was taken by surprise this morning, waking up at twenty to ten, after ten hours in bed, and eight and a half hours' actual sleep if my fitbit is to be believed (not sure I do). Clare decided to come with me to St Luke's instead of St Catherine's as it's our 57th wedding anniversary today, the Feast of the Transfiguration. It'll be sixty years since we first met, this October. 

We went by car to church. It's something I rarely do unless travelling between two services, or going across to St German's. When I arrived, Kath the organist was having problems selecting hymns, as she hadn't realised today is not an ordinary Sunday after Trinity. As I was leafing through the hymn book looking for a topical one which wasn't included, heaven knows why, Fr Colin appeared. It seems he'd been asked to celebrate today some time ago, although my name was on the last amended rota I received. Last Sunday there wasn't a priest, as Fr Rhys is on holiday so it's possible there was a mix-up in organising replacements.  Ah well, never mind. I was happy to sit in the congregation with Clare instead, and really appreciated a Transfiguration sermon not written by me. Only one of the usual six singers in the choir, with Fr Colin we were twelve.

We went straight home afterwards and Clare cooked a delicious anniversary lunch - salmon with a parsley sauce, roasted slices of round courgette coated with mustard and honey, plus roasted potatoes and steamed runner beans fresh from the garden. A real summer feast! She's also been industrious, cooking a big batch of apples and straining the liquor to make apple and ginger jelly, four jars worth.

Later, we went for a circuit of Llandaff Fields together, then I went for another circuit of the park to reach my daily exercise goal. I'm through the worst of this streaming nose episode now, but I'm still coughing up a lot of phlegm. Thank heavens there's no infection or soreness. It's most unpleasant as it is, and being out in the fresh air helps. 

I finished watching 'Seizure' before supper. A potentially interesting story-line confused by the traumatic flashbacks of its two guilt stricken protagonists, overuse of aquatic imagery to portray them overwhelmed by their feelings, and an essay on the demonic and sin from an anthropology expert whose contribution was made in French. Another layer of obscurity, adding to the overall length of a story which could have been told in three quarters of its length. Disappointing. 

After supper it was time for the BBC Proms with a performance of Rachmaninov's second piano concerto on Radio 3 for me and Prokofiev's third piano concerto on telly performed by Isata Kanneh Mason, for Clare. Then we watched highlights on S4C from the Welsh National Eisteddfod, being held this year at Boduan on the Llyn Peninsula. Marvellous to be able to watch if you can't actually be there. 

The kids sent us anniversary greetings on WhatsApp, and I had a phone call with Rachel as well. A Sunday free from leading worship was unexpected, but nevertheless an appreciated gift. 

Landmark for Owain

Clare was up before me, cooking pancakes for our Saturday breakfast. It rained on and off all morning, big gusts of wind from the west were blowing the rain clouds across the country. The sudden cloudbursts were no incentive to going out anywhere, so I whiled away the morning reading, doing nothing until it was time to cook lunch. Owain called to tell us that the flat purchase has been completed. He's acquired the keys and made an initial survey of what needs doing, apart from painting, before he can move in. It may cost him even more than he anticipated, but at least he's happy now that he has a place of his own. It's been a long haul for him in the three years since he set about getting a mortgage and buying a place of his own.

In the afternoon I walked up to Llandaff Cathedral. Solemn Evensong was just concluding as I got there, and the aroma of incense wafted out from the interior, carried by the breeze wafting through the building. The service must have started at three thirty, though a notice on an A board outside the entrance stated it was due to start at five thirty, and a fixed notice board on the wall stated that the Cathedral closed and four thirty. Talk about confusing messages! It was like this some months ago when I came up for Evensong. I suppose the official start time is put out on social media. Heaven help those who don't have access to a digital device. Some of them might actually want to attend.

I returned home to have a drink and then went out again to buy Clare some flowers from Tesco's. It's our 57th wedding anniversary tomorrow. As ever, I got her some red roses, always her favourite.

After supper, I continued watching 'Seizure' on More Four until bed-time.

Protest on Western Avenue

I got up late and idled away the morning, still feeling groggy, still coughing up phlegm, lacking in energy. Clare cooked lunch. Afterwards I finished off Sunday's sermon, then we went for a walk and bumped into Pete and Roger in the park, relaxing after a low key jogging session. The tarmacking work is complete now, all the way up to Penhill traffic lights, and most of the new road markings have been added. After one circuit of Llandaff Fields, we went home. I had a cup of coffee then went out again to walk for another hour.

When I walked for the second time to the far end of Llandaff Fields, I discovered there was no traffic at all on Western Avenue though it was rush hour by this time. Police had stopped all movement because someone was making a protest on the footbridge from Cardiff Met to the fields. Fire and Rescue Service vehicles were in attendance, and a person in full firefighter's garb was on the outside of the bridge railings. I couldn't see properly, but I got the impression someone else was being held on to. 

At first I wondered if it was a 'Just Stop Oil protest', but then noticed a bed sheet with writing on draped from the middle of the bridge, protesting about the action of Social Services, so maybe it was a protest of a more personal kind. No sooner than I stopped to check the lettering, I was moved on by one of the cops, eager no doubt to prevent a crowd gathering. It resulted in traffic chaos, and no detail about the incident were published later in the day. Someone it seems was in great distress about loss of children put into care. 

In the evening I spent an hour and a half reading La Sombra del Viento and then watched this week's episode of Disturbing Diappearances', this week set in Dunkirk. Interestingly, the series has moved from Strasbourg to the Dunkirk. In different episodes it has focused on the work of the detectives, the public prosecutor and tonight the investigating magistrate. A useful introduction to the French legal system and how it works, quite different from ours.

Christmas already in view

A warmer and sunny day today despite cloud on times. I woke up late, so it was eight thirty by the time I posted today's Morning Prayer YouTube link on What'sApp. After breakfast, the piano tuner arrived and I stayed upstairs out of the way until he finished. Then I worked on next week's Morning Prayer video and uploaded it before cooking lunch. I languished in the chair rather than snoozing afterwards and eventually walked over to the Aldi store on Western Avenue to buy a bottle of brandy for feeding the Christmas cake which Clare is about to make.

The tarmacking of Penhill Road from the Half Way pub to the end of Llanfair Road was completed last night. The last hundred yards up to the traffic lights remains to be done tonight after dark. Finishing work on the pavements will take a couple of weeks more I think. Then we'll know if reshaping and narrowing of the carriageway will make a real difference to traffic congestion, or been a waste of a few million quid.

Rufus messaged me this evening to say that he's been shortlisted for the Missions to Seafarers chaplain to work in South Wales coastal ports. I'm thrilled for him, as the Mission is one of the few Anglican agencies that have kept faith with their traditional calling and continued to work innovatively. It's 197 years since the world first Seamen's Mission station was established in Avonmouth Bristol. It's spread world wide from there since. As the mainstream church continues to founder, this is one of the enterprises which has continued to work effectively at industrial mission globally, while conservative and liberals wing continue at loggerheads and veer into schism. A good place for Rufus to be, if they'll have him, as he's become disillusioned by the way his diocese has been managed since he was ordained ten years ago.

After supper, I watched a couple of episodes of a Finnish drama on More Four called 'Seizure'. It's rather slow moving and switches sometimes obscurely between the investigation into a group abduction and deaths of four asylum seekers, and PTSD flashbacks experienced by the two lead investigators. If this is a psychological thriller, no amount of eerie dramatic music can make up for the yawn factor. Whether it's from impatience or end of day fatigue.

Night works

Rain in the night, on and off during the day. There were nine of us at the St Catherine's Eucharist. I bought a jar of apply and blackberry jam, and some big courgettes, and then to collect the organic veg bag for the week. The warm and wet summer is providing us with an abundance of good things to eat this year. Clare had cooked lunch by the time I returned, somewhat later than usual, as we were chatting so long in the hall over coffee while it rained. 

After lunch, I tried unsuccessfully to catch up on poor sleep, and ended up recording next week's Morning Prayer and Reflection, before going out to do the week's grocery shopping at the Co-op. Marc came after supper to discuss what he and Fran want in their ceremony of mutual life commitment. After he left I took the wedding service text, pruned it to its essential elements and secularised it as best I could to given them a head start in thinking about what they really want as they're not yet ready for marriage. I hope this works for them.

I went out for a breath of fresh air, walking in the dark after ten. Fortunately it was no longer raining Although I've been feeling better today, and not coughing nearly as much, my lungs aren't free of congestion. At least they aren't too sore. 

From a distance, Penhill Road alongside the park was traffic free. When I reached it, I discovered it was closed off for road resurfacing work likely to last for many hours during the night. Better than closing by day and causing commuter chaos all over west Cardiff. A tarmac spreading vehicle and road rollers  were busy down by the Half Way pub, at the start of the 500 metre stretch to be covered. I counted six forty tonne trucks loaded with tarmac materials positioned up the road toward the lights. A spectacular night scene with hardly anyone out watching the squad of men in hi-viz jackets and helmets about their nocturnal business. I imagine the worker were relieved it wasn't raining too.

 Glad I decided to walk that way, or I'd have missed it. A small visual treat before bed.

None the worse for wear

I slept better, and yesterday's progress has been maintained, although I'm still coughing a great deal as my lungs are still congested. Ruth rang up to ask if I was willing to continue being a Daily Office contributor after Mother Frances leaves, and I said I would. She's recruited Pearlin to cover the empty Saturday slot, which is very good news - four lay people and two clerics making it happen. 

She also emailed the text of next week's prayers, so I started preparing the text and writing a reflection, which came very quickly as I saw a detail in the day's Gospel reading which I'd never seen before - Jesus giving Peter's fevered mother-in-law a hand to get to her feet. Any physical contact between a man and a woman not of the same family is forbidden by the Torah as I understand it. So the very first chapter of Mark's Gospel speaks of the way Jesus wasn't bothered by the constraints of the law if compassion was needed. No wonder he soon acquired a bad reputation with the rule-keepers.

I walked to the Post Office to mail a spare lens cap to Kath as Rhiannon has lost the one on her camera exactly the same size as my HX300. I was none the worse doing this and cooked lunch when I got home then slept for an hour. Clare needed help to turn the mattress on the double bed before I went out for a walk, but a had a long coughing fit before I could so this. Once I started walking in the fresh air however the coughing subsided somewhat, and I revived. By the evening it stopped altogether. I walked over ten thousand steps today, four fifths of my daily target. I could have done more but was satisfied to discover I am not worse for wear after the past few taxing days.

I continued watching the rest of 'Wolf' on iPlayer, skipping through the over-long melodramatic parts, without losing track of the complex investigation and eventual revelation about the culprits. Disappointed to discover there's has to be a series two to complete part of the story. Interesting to see locations in the Wye Valley, Chepstow, Newport and Cardiff Bay distributed throughout. Oddly anachronistic to hear Gwent Constabulary referred to as Monmouthshire Constabulary, but then it is fiction. It didn't work by amplifying the horrific elements of a distressing story of home invasion and hostage taking - straight from the school of thought that says if it can be shown it must be shown, leaving nothing to the imagination.