Gripes

Cloudy and cold, but little rain today. Clare went to her study group after breakfast, I prepared and then recorded and edited next week's Morning Prayer and Reflection. I cooked lunch in time for Clare's return, against a background of stomach pain which I've come to recognise as caused by some dairy ingredient in what I've eaten lately, thanks to my malfunctioning gall bladder. To take my mind off the discomfort, I did the week's grocery shopping at the Co-op after lunch, a day early, then went for my daily walk in the park, most of it in the dark. As ever, exercise makes a difference. 

I'm vigilant about eating anything that could cause me pain, but couldn't couldn't figure out if I'd eaten anything different from usual. Then I remembered I'd eaten two slices of toast from a new loaf of bread which Clare had bought in a different bakery from our usual one, which had run out of what we normally buy. It's a few months since it last happened, when I ate a fishcake for lunch at my sister's, whose label said that milk powder was a flavour ingredient. I can't yet prove it was that loaf of bread, a check at the bakery which produced it will tell whether or not it was a culprit.

Clare's special Swedish Bitters remedy eased the pain, but the discomfort stayed with me for the rest of the day, as the offending substance worked its way slowly from my stomach into my intestines. It's only my stomach which is affected it seems. After supper I exchanged emails with Basma, who thought she'd be meeting her asylum solicitor this afternoon, but the appointment was intended only for the delivery of documents relating to her case and this had not been explained to her. I was not impressed with the way she said she was treated. 

Then I drafted this year's Christmas newsletter for sending out to relations and friends, for Clare to check and approve. It was a less eventful year than 2022, with not much to look forward to so far, and no concrete plans apart from renewing the roof on the house after the winter. With all three ministry vacancies filled by Easter in the churches I serve, I should have more free time on my hands. What I'll do with that time I'll think about when it finally happens.

The Israeli assault on Hamas in Khan Younis in southern Gaza continues with brutal ferocity and stupidity. The military has dropped leaflets warning the population to move to designated safe areas. Where it was digital contact details text messages are sent. Updates are sent if safe zones become unsafe. Due diligence. But what a hypocritical joke when people's phones cannot be re-charged and cell towers are out of service, due to inability to access power. 

Accounts are emerging now of the extent to which Hamas terrorists invading the Israeli border zone targeted women for rape and disfigurement before murdering them. It is now at last being more widely recognised that sexual violence is a weapon of war. I remember this first being mentioned during the Bosnian war, and then again in Syrian conflict zones where the Islamic state held sway. Maybe things like this have always happened in times of conflict. Human beings soon revert to animalistic behaviour when it seems there are no sanctions. When will we ever learn?