Ancient viral music

I heard the front door bang shut at five past five, as Rhiannon left in an Uber taxi for the railway station, to get a train to Bridgend by six o'clock, then a forty minute walk to the film set to start he days work, being dressed and made up as a 1920s party goer for scenes to be shot today. I admire her enthusiasm, stamina and willingness to work at such a demanding job. Amazingly, she relishes the experience, and as ever is learning about movie making on the job. I slipped back into sleep, and woke up in time to post today's link on WhatsApp to my Morning Prayer video, then dozed off again.

After breakfast I went to St John's to celebrate the Eucharist and reflect with the congregation of six on the past six months without pastoral leadership, a time which I believe has demonstrated the resilience of the congregational life we still have, despite losing older members and general decline in numbers.

A walk in the park after lunch. Another day of clouds and occasional short showers. By Blackweir bridge are a couple of park benches. One of them is occupied by a large crow as often as it is by a human being. This afternoon I took a picture that made me smile:

I did the email distribution of Sway later than usual, when I returned from walking,  as I was waiting for confirmation about advertising for a Sway editor to replace me after Easter.  It didn't come, so I posted it anyway. I live in hope of there being a surprise volunteer coming forward!

This evening Colin asked if I would open St Catherine's church  for a Fountain Singers rehearsal just after seven, which I agreed to do and booked it in my phone as usual. I proposed to set up, welcome people and then pop over to Chapter for the first of four Christian Aid discussions about tackling poverty in Britain as well as the rest of the world, and then return to close the church at nine thirty. When sending out Sway I checked the start time, and it was at seven. My phone notification sounded, but I didn't look at it. I headed straight to Chapter instead and was last to arrive at the meeting. When I went to put my phone on silent for the duration of the meeting, I saw the pop up notification and realised I'd gone to the wrong place first! I had to make an excuse and leave, disrupting proceedings and making a fool of myself. I had to go home to get my church keys to open up St Catherine's. It started to rain, but at least I was able to get an umbrella for the walk to church, where I arrived in good time to be evening caretaker.

It was good to hear the choir practicing some unfamiliar early music pieces, including a twelfth century hymn to the Virgin with drone bass accompaniment. It so reminded me of something I heard last week on YouTube, sung by Cardiff's Russian Orthodox Exarchate church choir. A simple flowing melody with little adornment, similar to one's I recall hearing Greek Orthodox cantors singing in times past, except that their version is embellished with complex melismata that sound strangely dissonant to Western ears. Purely melodic versions of what we call Byzantine or Latin plainchant are, I believe very ancient and may have been come from Jewish synagogue cantors. Beautiful music inspires and uplifts, sharing it is inevitable.

I stayed throughout the rehearsal, not daring to go back to Chapter and disrupt proceedings a second time, and got home at half past nine. It was nearly half past ten by the time Rhiannon returned, having done more than the twelve hour day on set he gets paid for. Clare had a meal ready for her, and she was in bed an hour earlier this evening. Thankfully she has a later start time tomorrow morning.

Uncertainties

Clouds and slight drizzle again today. I couple of roofers turned up at eight this morning to do a small job of work extending the slate cover of the annexe at the back of the house, to prevent water seeping through the walls and replacing a few broken ones as well. This will cure a damp problem at the far corner of the building that has persisted since it was re-roofed fifteen years ago. It costs extra however, but never mind.

There were ten of us at the St Catherine's Eucharist, celebrated by Archbishop Rowan this morning. After coffee and a chat I collected this week's veggie bag and headed home. We had sausages and veg for lunch. Then after a snooze, Clare went out to fetch the grocery order from Beanfreaks while I started work on a Sunday sermon. When she returned, I went for groceries at the Coop. The sun was setting by the time I returned, so I had to finish the rest of my day's exercise as it was getting dark. Fortunately no rain.

I had an anxious message from Basma saying her lawyer was now less confident about her asylum request being granted at the hearing on March 4th. It's not clear whether he's mentioned her desire for baptism, to the tribunal or not. It's none of their business. She insisted she wouldn't be baptized until she had leave to stay in a place where it was safe to proceed. This is not the reason for her petition. If the tribunal has been briefed about this, it could constitute a breach of client confidentiality, and prejudice a fair judgement. It could however, simply be a case of crossed wires, due to translation/interpretation error. We'll see. 

The fact there have been serious criminal cases involving baptized converts from Islam using this as case for obtaining asylum, means churches have come in for criticism from those who know little about cross cultural pastoral ministry. Regardless of background, people with ulterior motives can lie about their intentions. Those exiled from their homeland and culture can come off the rails, and fail to understand that a new faith means consistency in a new way of life with a new sense of values, regardless of how sound or inadequate the baptism preparation and follow up they receive.

As a result of this exchange of messages, I missed the Diocese in Europe's on-line farewell celebration to Suffragan Bishop David Hamid, retiring after twenty two years in this role. No news yet about the appointment of a successor. Whoever this is, he'll be a hard act to follow.

Fr Colin called this evening to ask if I could replace him at the St John's Eucharist tomorrow morning, as he knows I go regularly, since was feeling unwell. It's the last day of the ministerial vacancy, with Andrew being licensed tomorrow evening. Not only happy to help, but also to have an opportunity to give thanks for all that has continued to happen during the past six months, and put the future into God's hands.

I seem to have spent the evening exchanging emails, and diary checking with Clare so she can book opera tickets for the '24-25 WNO season. It seems odd to me to be thinking so far ahead in such uncertain times. I think this is a legacy from the pandemic, when everyone who wasn't managing the health crisis could do little else apart from put their lives on hold until they were confident of survival. The older I get the more uncertainty stalks me. None of us really know how much time we have left here on earth, so planning too far seems a bit absurd. 

Rhiannon rang at ten from Bridgend, as she was on foot, heading for a train back to Cardiff. She has to be back there on call for six o'clock in the morning. She hadn't eaten since lunchtime. It's crazy. So I cooked her eggs, chips and green peas washed down with chamomile tea for a belated supper, and she went to bed at eleven forty. Me too.

Pictures of Jamaica

Mild and cloudy, but no rain today, apart from a few bouts of fine drizzle. Clare's study group came after breakfast, so I occupied myself in the front room, writing a couple of talks for Basma, and recording them later after they'd left. 

Rhiannon arrived to stay just after we'd eaten a snack lunch. She has a couple more days film extra work in Bridgend this week. I went out for a walk, and went up to the Cathedral where I met Canon Jan, and we chatted for a while. I returned in good time for us to take Rhiannon out for a birthday meal at Stefano's. She was twenty five days ago. 

Amazing how the years have passed since she was born. We've seen her go from infant to young woman at closer quarters than we have done with Jasmine living in Arizona. Sad that the two of them have spent so little time together as cousins. Maybe they'll discover each other when they both are adults and free to go wherever they wish. Who knows. So many things in life turn out in ways you can't predict.

After returning from Stefano's we relaxed and chatted. I started reminiscing about my trip to Jamaica forty two years ago, and ended up showing Rhiannon the 313 surviving photos I digitized from the slides I took when I was there. A trip down memory lane for me, and an introduction to what was then a poor Third World Caribbean country which has developed so much since then, but I suspect that hasn't made that much difference to the gap between rich and poor both then and now, even if overall standards of living have improved down the generations.

Account upgrade, maybe

A lovely bright sunny winter day, the kind that's been in short supply this year. Housework after breakfast, and then the realisation that my usual Monday mail-out of next week's readings weren't needed, as there's a United Parish Eucharist at St Catherine's next Sunday, so the organisation will be taken care of by Sue. What will happen about routine service preparation and Sway when Fr Andrew arrives is not yet known. 

Anyway, it was good to have time to devote to tidying up my study. First, hoovering up a film of plaster dust deposited by the work on the roof, and then filing away months of bank statements and then clearing the pile of redundant charity mail shots, I didn't get around disposing of since last autumn. There's a lot more that needs getting rid of. Historic files from previous jobs, books I'm never going to read again. A lifetime of stuff nobody else is going to be interested in.

Clare cooked a veggie lentil dish with rice for lunch while I was pottering about upstairs. After we'd eaten, I got around to upgrading our Santander current account on-line. A new offer is advantageous for paying abroad with a debit card, and for withdrawing Euros from a Santander AGM. The earned interest rate is higher, but I doubt if it saves much really. It also means not getting any more paper bank statements, which is a pity as I've been holding out against losing them for years, as it's easier to identify transactions when you you need to on paper, than it is on-line, when  search and identify isn't as good as paper and pencil.

Then, a bracingly chilly walk in the park, some more work on a recruitment poster for the next Sway editor, should this be needed, and a batch of bread dough started. After supper, I wrote and recorded another talk for Basma, then made a video slideshow for next week's Morning Prayer and uploaded it to YouTube. I quite forgot about the bread dough until I'd finished work. It had risen very well and was easy to knock it back and put into tins to bake, just before it was time to turn in for the night.

Familiar voice on air

This Morning's Sunday Worship on Radio 4 was broadcast from the Wales Millennium Centre, in honour of St David's day, later this week, called 'Love of Nation'. It was led by a contemporary colleague of mine, the veteran BBC religious programme presenter Baptist Minister Roy Jenkins with the BBC National Chorus of Wales. One of the contributors Roy interviewed was singer Vanessa Hall, long standing member of St John's City Parish Church and old friend of ours. That was a surprise and delight to start the day.

The respite from horrible weather only lasted a day. It was dry when I drove to St German's to celebrate the Eucharist, but by the time we finished it was raining again. We were nearly forty with the children, and I noticed several new faces in the congregation.  I had a good chat with Basma afterwards, going over the baptismal words in Arabic which I'll learn to use for her big day. We've covered most of the ground we needed to in preparation. Not knowing when she'll get her residence permit is a frustration for planning. We'd love this to happen at Easter, the most appropriate time of year. If the delay is longer, I'll be away for two months. Basma insists I should be the one to baptize her, although it's not essential that I do. I'll be happy if I can complete her preparation. It's for Fr Stewart and Fr Jarel to decide when the time comes. 

I drove home in pouring rain. It was half past one when I arrived, late for lunch. The rain continued until eight in the evening, so I snoozed in the chair for an hour, then prepared next week's liturgical texts. As the rain slackened, Clare ventured out for a walk, while I took advantage of a quiet house to record and edit next week's Morning Prayer. Once the rain reduced to a trickle, I went out, walked for three quarters of an hour, returning in time for the Archers and supper. The rain finally stopped so I went out again and walked to reach my daily quota. There's no doubt this much exercise does me good. A clear head and relaxed sleep are well worth the effort.

Speculation is mounting over a cease fire deal in Israel's war on Gaza, although Netanyahu's government is still unready to agree, despite mounting pressure at home and abroad to do so. The intransigence of the Israeli government is having repercussions all over the world against Jewish people being scapegoated for what a secular extreme right regime has done to Palestinians, though they can play no part in its decisions and policies and have little or no ability to influence them. Blaming one group of people for the actions of another is unjust, ignorant, irrational. It's a symptom of contagious malice, amplified and spread by social media, so hard to contain or counter when dominated by people of ill will. An instrument of conviviality easily flips over into a devouring monster. When will the world tire of such impoverished communication?

Very low tide

A cold day with sunshine as well as clouds. In my study after our Saturday pancake breakfast, a book I bought in Geneva over twenty years ago caught my eye on a bookshelf. It's about biblical meditation and its written by Daniel Bourguet, a French protestant pastor, who became a hermit after a career as a biblical scholar. I'm not sure if I got around to reading it before but enjoyed reading the first sixteen pages. It's been a while since I last read anything in French. A refreshing change.

We decided to go out and enjoy the better weather, driving to Penarth for a snack lunch in Cioni's Italian family restaurant and a walk along the clifftop to Lavernock Point and back. As the full moon had  already sunk beneath the western horizon, the tide was exceptionally low, revealing reefs of sand and stones in the middle of the Estuary, and the visible shore line below us, more uneven than usual, sculpted by tidal currents. The coastal path was a stream of running water in several stretches, if not puddles and slicks of mud. It'll take days for water to drain from the adjacent fields and fall from the cliff edge to the beach forty metres below.  It'll take much longer if heavy rain returns and persists.

After our walk we called to see Fran as she was at home, and saw the collection of icons she has painted, now displayed in her studio. When you see them together it's possible to see how an icon with the same subject can be made with small variations illustrating different insights into its significance which arose during the preparation for painting. She's about to start on a new icon of the Trinity and we discussed the challenge this presents, in the light of Rublev's archetypal fifteenth century masterpiece. Is there another approach to the Mystery of the Trinity which doesn't make use of 'The hospitality of Abraham' story in Genesis? Or the Gospel story of Christ's baptism?

We drove home with the sun setting at quarter to six. It's wonderful to have reclaimed nearly two hours of daylight since the end of last November. Before leaving, we left a line of washing to dry outdoors, but we didn't anticipate returning so late. By the time we got back, the sun had set and heavy dew descended, leaving the washing no better than when it came out of the spin drier. 

After supper, I went for a walk in the dark for half an hour to complete my daily quota. Moonlight shone through the clouds, but the moon itself wasn't visible. Such a disappointment. I watched an episode of 'Bones' on my Chromebook while Clare watched an old episode of 'The Repair Shop' on telly. Then it was time for bed. As I entered the bedroom before switching on the light, the room was flooded with moonlight  The sky was clearing of cloud and the full moon shone brightly down  from above the house.

Monty Don in Valencia

I woke up early switched the radio and listened to 'Thought for the Day'. After this I went back to sleep for another hour. After breakfast, work on my Sunday sermon, then a trip to the GP surgery for another blood pressure test. It's coming down satisfactorily, a month after the gall bladder op. Then I returned home and continued working on the sermon until it was time to cook a pasta dish for lunch. 

After lunch I worked on a reflection for the week after next, before walking in the the park for an hour and a half. Service and reflection are now ready to record when I next have free time. After supper we watched a programme about gardens in Spain by Monty Don, who traveled around central Spain visiting gardens both traditional and contemporary, considering how architects and gardeners are responding to climate change making conditions more extreme. 

Among the places he visits are Madrid, Toledo, Avila and Valencia, the only place I have visited. The aerial views of the parque del Turia running the length of the old river bed through the city were amazing. There were a few brief views of the Cuitat de les Artes i les Ciencias, but I was surprised to hear Calatrava's clamshell shaped L'Àgora building called the opera house when the building housing Valencia's opera is a kilometre up the river bed and shaped like a giant fish. L'Àgora is a massive event space, used for concerts, exhibitions and indoor sports. When my sister June and I visited the city in 2009, construction of L'Àgora was almost complete, the one public building in this massive modern complex not yet finished. 

It's great modern architecture, but the imagination of citizens demanding the river bed become a park not a motorway, produced a green innovation impacting the entire life of the city which cities throughout have imitated in different ways since. This was well before climate change became an urgent issue. Valencia is committed to becoming a the world's first carbon neutral city by 2025. How this is to be achieved, I shall be most interested to discover.

Waterlogged

I woke up at half past seven and posted today's Morning Prayer video link to WhatsApp. After breakfast I made a photo album with pictures I've taken of the six Ministry Area churches and sent it to webmaster Gareth to use, as he's now got the Ministry Area website running. It's a work in progress, but which I've helped get started and am now content to let others develop as they see fit. 

Then I went to St John's to celebrate the Eucharist with five others, before driving to Danescourt to give Communion to Sandra, returning in time for a delicious lunch of pan fried mackerel with rice and veg. Although I slept quite well last night, I slept in the chair for nearly an hour after we'd eaten. I must have needed more. 

After waking up refreshed, I walked to Thompson's Park. Weeks of rain has left the open ground saturated. In several places the footpath around the top of the hillock is flooded with water draining off the grass. In the lowest area of the park, where there's a big boundary wall enclosing a street, there's a pool of water as big as I've seen in the winter rainy season, if not bigger. Once the rainfall reduces to a spring or summer level, it will take several months for this area to dry out, as there's a bed of clay beneath the trees there. 

The sun was shining but at 5C the cold wind chilled me so I had to return home for a warmer top coat, gloves and scarf. I continued walking in Thompson's Park for another three quarters of an hour to reach my daily target, the spent the rest of the day binge watching the second action packed series of 'Vigil' with a break for supper. A complex story of spies, drone warfare and the dark side of the British arms industry, and a warmongering conspiracy among top military officers in a fictional Middle Eastern country, actually filmed in Morocco, and Scotland. Hard to follow on times, as it switched between locations, but worth the effort for the questions it posed about supporting dodgy regimes, on the grounds that, if we don't our enemies will.

Industrial mission remembered

As I was getting up this drizzly morning I had a message from Rufus to arrange a coffee and a chat. I went to the Eucharist at St Catherine's and then we met. It's great to see him enjoying his new job as Wales Chaplain for the Mission to Seafarers. He talked about the fast pace of change in the maritime and linked industries, and how the Mission is having to respond to this. As well as his pastoral role as a pastoral ship visitor, his work embraces on-shore personnel, in the way industrial missioners did in the early days of my ministry. 

It's been 25-30 years since specialist industrial chaplains disappeared from church ministry teams, with the demise of heavy industry, coal and steel especially. Port Talbot steelworks, threatened with closure in the near future had its own industrial chaplain until five years ago. My friend and former colleague Geoff Johnston was industrial chaplain to a steel works in the Black Country which closed while he was in post. Much of his remaining time in post before he returned to a parish was spent working with people made redundant by the closure. 

After Rufus and I parted company, I had to go home, collect the veggie bag and retrieve this week's supply from Chapter before lunch, which was thankfully delayed as Clare had made a late start, having spent the morning investigating travel insurance. After we'd eaten, I did the Co-op grocery shopping, and then went for a walk in the park.

With nothing better to do, I spent the remainder of the afternoon and evening watching several episodes of 'Vigil', which is pretty good dramatic fare laced with hi-tech' investigations. Interesting portrayal of the changing ways in which espionage and warfare are waged in the age of the mobile phone, and the impact  on warriors on the front line of living constantly with the need to be vigilant on duty or off. 'Be sober be vigilant because your adversary the devil walks about like a roaring lion, whom resist steadfast in faith', as scripture says. Except that these a lot less faith around these days, and you can never be sure you really know who your enemies might be.

Paid in full

Another good night's sleep, another cold cloudy day. One of the roofing team arrived as we were having breakfast to remove the last traces of the work done and tidy up the front garden. Clare went off to her study group in Penarth, and I took the bus into town to pay the roofing bill at Santander Bank. I was rather annoyed to discover that the bank's computer system was out of order. I was expecting the last person to arrive at the house to collect a back alley gate key at twelve thirty so I caught a bus straight away rather than hang around in hope. When I got back, I made the slide show to go with next week's Morning Prayer video and then cooked lunch. Clare was back just after midday and was able to hand over the last key herself.

After lunch I took a bus into town and re-visited Santander Bank. This time everything was working as intended. Give the size of the invoice I was paying, I was impressed at how thorough the bank clerk was in questioning me about the payment I wanted to make; about the job done, how we chose the contractor and whether any advance payment had been made. She explained that it's part of their anti-scam protocol when dealing with large amounts. Given the rising prevalence of banking fraud I must applaud this, even if it does add a few minutes of Q&A to a visit to the bank. 

On-line banking with Santander is also thorough with its own in-built protocols to ensure you know what you're doing and haven't been pushed into making a transaction by a third party you don't know. I could have made the payment on-line, but as it was such a big sum, I wanted an official receipt containing all the necessary details, for the record. While I was there I was able to leave a notification on our account of my next stay in Spain. I was also told of a new current account set up called 'Edge' which promises favourable interest rates and no fee withdrawals and payment when in Spain. I must investigate this, as it could be beneficial.

While in town I visited John Lewis' but couldn't see any bargains worth contemplating, the popped into Wally's deli and bought a chorizo and some Greek Black olives before taking a bus to Canton and walking the rest of the way home. Before supper I watched the remaining one and a half episodes of 'The Drought', which was, I thought, an impressive piece of movie making, portraying a good relationship between two investigators and the teams backing them up, with some lovely townscapes of Caceres in Extremadura and Lisbon in Portugal. Both places worth visiting. 

Then after supper, with no urgent jobs to do, settled down and watched a couple of episodes of 'Vigil' about a murder on a British nuclear submarine. An interesting way to showcase the role the Navy plays in deterring global superpowers from wiping out life on earth by accident or design. Interesting detective work with limited resources in an unnervingly claustrophobic environment.

A productive start to the week

A cooler cloudy day, up at eight after a good night's sleep. A very good 'Thought for the Day' this morning from David Wilkinson, Principal of St John's College Durham, which gave me a new angle of insight on the Beatitudes in Matthew's Gospel. Housework after breakfast, then sending out the texts for next Sunday's readings, editing next week's Sway and spending rest of the morning recording and editing talks for Basma and a Reflection for the week after next. 

After a curry made by Clare for lunch, I drove her to the Nuffield Hospital down in Cardiff Bay, where she had arranged an eye appointment to get a second opinion about a proposed procedure. She came away reassured by what she learned about the reasons behind her surgeon's plan. Then we drove to Cathays to the Uni School of Optometry for a repair to her special varifocal spec's, from which she'd lost one of the nose pads. meanwhile I had an exchange of messages with Martin, who's now returned from Petra to Aquaba, a seaside resort which he described as being 'a bit like Ali Baba meets Barry Island'.

I walked in the park for a couple of hours before supper. Clare went out to her meditation group only to discover she'd got the day wrong. While she was out I recorded and edited next week's Morning Prayer and then settle down to watch a couple more episodes of 'The Drought'. The investigation of a twenty year old murder is very complex, involving an assortment of corrupt people with murky back stories. 

It's very slow paced, as it doesn't gloss over any of the painstaking detail which is necessary to work out a narrative for a series of inter-related cross border events past and present. I think it gains a lot from this approach. It has been compared to the Scandi noir series 'The Bridge', except that the murders aren't bizarre or vixtims of a crazy serial killer, but something more mundane - powerful people manipulating all around them to avoid losing power and privilege. 

Double duty Sunday

Going to bed just that bit earlier paid off with a refreshing night's sleep, waking up in good time to have breakfast and be out of the house just after half past eight, walking to St John's to celebrate the Eucharist. With the children we were about three dozen altogether. It was noticeable that several of the adults came forward to receive a blessing, as well as younger children not yet receiving Communion. I then walked to St Catherine's to celebrate the Eucharist and found the same numbers and pattern of attendance there. It's the end of half term week, and there are probably people in both congregations who are still away, but it's clear that regular attendance hasn't recovered post-covid. I think irregular attendance may have become a new norm for those who haven't given up on public worship altogether.

Just before I left St John's, the Orthodox priest and a few of his congregation arrived to prepare the church for their Sunday Liturgy which begins at 10.40. He was busy and I didn't have enough time to stop and greet him. It will have to keep for another time, when I can attend the Eucharist there and stay for the Liturgy. It must be about twenty five years since I last attended an Orthodox Liturgy in Geneva. Fr Jean was parish priest there. In 2015, he was elected Bishop of the Russian Orthodox Church in Western Europe, a group of expatriate parishes, exiled from the Moscow Patriarchate at the time of the Russian revolution, recognised by the Ecumenical Patriarch in Constantinople. 

A decision was made in 1999 to bring this arrangement to an end, and re-unite the Exarchate churches with the Patriarchate of Moscow, a process which took ten years to realise, by which time Bishop Jean was Bishop, leading the process of reconciliation. Because the Exarchate congregations are so diverse and spread out internationally, they remain a self governing entity, distinct from the new wave of Russian Orthodox congregations, more focused on Slavic language expats. This is the congregation that meets in Conway Road Methodist church. This is the first time I've successfully got my head around a story in which a priest I knew years ago has played a key role. The in-house ecclesiastical vocabulary of Orthodox churches is different from that of Roman and Anglican churches. Perhaps new websites with links to each other make this clearer than it used to be. 

After lunch, I walked in the park for an hour, enjoying the cloudy but mainly blue sky and sunshine, and spring like mildness of air. As the snowdrops start to diminish, swathes of white yellow blue and purple crocuses take their place. When I returned Clare was chatting with a couple who had come to retrieve their new back gate key. Then she went out and chased a few more who hadn't yet responded. There remain just two more to collect and the job is done.

Clare has now booked her flight to come and join me in Nerja for two weeks, shocked, as I was, by how expensive it is. The cost of baggage has risen alarmingly and can be more than the plain price of a flight. Then I watched more episodes of 'The Drought', which is interesting in its exposure of corruption among the rich elite of Iberian society. It's good practice for hearing Spanish conversation and understanding it.

Borderland mystery

Another good night's sleep, but awakening to an overcast sky. Pancakes for breakfast. A plasterer arrived at eight thirty to complete work on the attic room and make good some of the holes in ceiling plaster that were caused by roofing rails being driven in over zealously. It was gone two two by the time he left. I had a succession of messages and video clips from Martin, in Jordan now and visiting Petra. He took a coach from Aquaba through the mountains and it turned out to be a hair raising ride in low cloud and rain. It was good to see Petra through the eyes of his smartphone, and notice a modest amount of greenery in the environment. It rains very little, but winter fog and mist supports hardy vegetation. When we were there thirty years ago it was high summer and the landscape was parched. 

Apart from exchanging messages with him and a few others, all I did until lunchtime was tinker with tomorrow's sermon to ensure it remained concise and easy to follow, as I'm taking services at St John's and St Catherine's, one after the other. I've done it before, but would rather not rush the service or the short trip between the two. Hence, keeping to my text and not going on too long. 

After a splendid pasta with tuna and veggie sauce for lunch, I wrote some intercessions for tomorrow. By the time I finished, rain arrived, so another two hour walk in rain gear and wellies under the brolly ensued. I didn't enjoy it, but at least it will help me to stay fit. 

With time on my hands before supper, I printed my sermon and prepared next week's readings for Monday's mail-out and next edition of Sway. It's a fiddly job, but easier to do when relaxed and not looking at a deadline. For most of my life I could work well under pressure and relish the achievement. This last few years, it's no longer the case. I don't have so much to do, but need to enjoy whatever I'm working on. It means I may put things off which I should do, until I feel I have the energy. It may mean I'm more thoughtful about what I take on. Quality not quantity these days. Well, I hope so. 

After supper I was surprised to come across in my news feed a review of a new Spanish crimmie called 'Sequia' - 'The Drought' on Channel 4's Walter Presents, so I watched couple of episodes. It's set in the borderland province of Extremadura, the story enfolds in Portugal as well as Spain. I was amazed at how much dialogue I understood before reading the sub-titles, perhaps because of the actorss' clarity speech. It was good to hear spoken Portuguese and think that understanding and speaking Spanish, it would be easy to get by in Portugal without needing to fall back on English, a second language there, I believe.

Early bed again tonight as I must get up early enough to be out of the house by eight thirty in the morning.

A heroic sacrifice

An overcast day, though the clouds were higher with a few glimpses of blue sky, and a welcome respite from rain. I spent the morning, writing three short talks for Basma introducing the sacraments. 

Just before noon the scaffolding lorry arrived, followed by a van with a small work team. Dismantling and uploading the equipment took under two hours. It's good to regain an unimpeded view of the street and back garden. Several people called to collect new back lane gate keys from Clare, prompted maybe by the sight of scaffolding being taken down. The coded lock has stayed in place while the roofers have needed access. The new padlock can now be used instead.

Clare cooked fillets of monkfish in a savoury sauce to go with veggies for our lunch. Afterwards I went out and walked for two hours before sunset.

The death of Russian anti-corruption activist and Putin adversary Alexei Navalny in an Arctic Circle gulag where he was imprisoned was reported this afternoon. Two days ago, he was seen in a court hearing and was in good health. His death was sudden and unexplained, but world leaders are pointing the finger at Putin and his gang, as Navalny's poisioning with Novichok nerve agent a few years ago was attributed to a secret agent of state. The world waits to see if there will be an autopsy, and whether his body will be disposed of where he dies, as he's regarded as an enemy of the state, or returned to his family. 

Navalny's choice to return to Russia after recovering from his earlier poisoning rather than seek asylum was a choice he made, to continue any way he could, confronting Putin whom Navalny believed is destroying Russia. Like a soldier, he chose to risk his life to defend his beloved country with the force of truth rather than armed might. His death was tragically inevitable. It remains to be seen what impact his self sacrifice will have on Russian people when they go to vote for a new president.

After supper, I read my Spanish novel through the rest of the evening until bed time. I'm enjoying reading for a change, instead of watching programmes on telly or Chromebook. It's taken my imagination to Paris and the life of a Peruvian ex-pat there in the revolutionary sixties so far. When we were in Geneva, I made an effort to learn and use everyday French, and could read newspapers and occasionally a French novel, but literary language was more of a challenge than a pleasure. Thirty years later, that experience seems to have made it easier to read in Spanish, as the grammar and sentence constructions are familiar. Spanish is as rich as English in vocabulary, and I need Google Translate for some new words, but others I can guess from context, helping to make reading more fluent. This makes humour in the story more accessible too. It give me a pleasure I didn't think I'd enjoy in old age.

Cooking Skate

I woke up after a good night's sleep at half past seven and posted the Morning Prayer link on Whats App, listened to the news and Thought for the Day, then got up for breakfast. Before going to St John's for the Eucharist I made the video slide show for next week's Morning Prayer and uploaded it to YouTube. There were six of us for the service, including Meg who celebrated. 

Clare went into town to the bank, and moved her share of the money for the new roof to our joint account, ready for paying the bill after the weekend. Too wet again today for the scaffolders to arrive, but we did have a visit from the plasterer who will come on Saturday morning to finish off the surrounds of the new Velux windows. 

I cooked lunch while she was out. Rice and veggies as usual, but there were two large skate wings to cook, a fish I don't recall having to cook before. They were so big they wouldn't fit side by side in the pan, not even in my skillet, so they had to be cooked separately. I wasn't sure how to know for certain if they were properly cooked, I had to 'wing it', as the saying goes. Five minutes each with a small drop of oil seemed to do the trick, and they tasted fine and didn't need to be returned to the pan for an extra burst of heat. It's a mild bland sort of taste. The flesh must be combed out from between the supporting strips of gristle as you eat. An odd experience. A dash of lemon or lime would have helped maybe, but for a first time experience I wanted to know the un-garnished taste of the fish. If there is a next time, maybe a marinade beforehand?

It rained on and off from lunchtime until nearly five o'clock. After sending out this week's Sway link via Mailchimp, I paced around the house in frustration, rather than go out and get soaked again. When rain turned to drizzle, I donned rain gear and wellies and left. Then the drizzle halted for an hour and didn't resume until I was out of the park, five hundred yards away from home. 

It seems unfair that Andalusia has been in drought conditions while we are getting an overdose of winter rain, not even a flake of snow. There's often torrential rain on the Costa del Sol and in the sierras behind at this time of year, refilling the reservoirs, but the best the region can manage at the moment is showers. Our temperature today is 13C, while in Malaga it's 18C. When I was there this time last year 12-15C by day was usual. The average is higher at both latitudes now.

After supper, after neglecting reading for several months, I returned to reading my Spanish novel 'Travesuras de una niña mala' for a couple of hours. It was easy to pick up where I left off, although I hadn't left it with a bookmark. The language reflects the Peruvian background of the protagonist, with unfamiliar turns of phrase. It's certainly broadening the range of my understanding, having to decipher apparently strange words whose meaning in Google Translate only emerges when a whole phrase is typed in. Fascinating stuff.

Ash Wednesday

Another damp overcast morning with occasional showers. Not surprisingly, the scaffolders didn't come to dismantle and finish their job. I went to St Catherine's to celebrate the Ash Wednesday Eucharist with eleven others. I'd slept well and didn't feel tired, but strangely it felt like an effort to lead the liturgy with  penitential add-ons, quite nicely devised, in a previous year. After coffee, I collected the veggie bag from Chapter on my way home. 

Clare had made an early start on lunch, which included a pork chop for me. Not quite the penitential fare recommended, but worthy of thanksgiving anyway. I gave up drinking wine after Christmas, and will continue now until Easter. The change of habit, change of awareness is worthwhile, I think. I can only eat dark chocolate, no more than a couple of squares a day, and a couple of chocolate digestives, unless I forget. I'll do without that too, but I can't think of anything more drastic to do. 

Lately I have been writing a lot more, as part of instructing Basma for baptism. That will continue for a good while to come. The creative exercise is already doing me good. Hopefully her too. Perhaps I should give up binge watching telly for Lent, although it's quite likely I'll watch a lot less telly when I get to Nerja, apart from the news to improve my Spanish.

While Clare was out shopping at Beanfreaks after lunch, I recorded and edited next Thursday's Morning Prayer, then went to the Coop for the other half of the weekly groceries, followed by a walk around the park. Thankfully the rain stopped when it was time for me to go out. I was a relief not to return home with wet shoes and wet coat.

Thanks to an exchange of messages with people in the Ministry Area churches, I was able to assemble a sheet of information for Fr Andrew about Holy Week service times in all of them, already arranged, or tentatively suggested. Informing the decisions he'll have to take about deployment of clergy seemed to me a worthwhile task, which will make it easier to add into the weekly Sway nearer the time.

After supper, no telly tonight. more writing to do, with a Sunday sermon to prepare and a poster to modify for Sway. Then early bed after another productive day.

Pancake day

Another day of intermittent drizzle and light downpour. We were expected a work team to arrive and take down the scaffolding this morning, but nothing happened. I'm not surprised. Dismantling a vertical structure in persistent rain would be a risky job. Clare went off to her study group in Penarth. I stayed in, just in case they turned up and needed access to the back of the house, spending the morning writing a sermon for tomorrow's Ash Wednesday service, answering emails, then preparing lunch, leaving Clare to finish cooking tofu burgers in an onion sauce. She does this better than I can.

I went out for a walk in the rain wearing wellies and rain trousers with an old Gor-tex jacket I used to wear for cross country skiing, thinking it was still waterproof. How wrong I was. The top half of my body got soaked and I had to change all my clothes when I returned. Usually it's my feet that end up soaked, thanks to the wellies my feet were the only part of me that stayed dry. I long for a change in the weather. Each time we're promised freezing weather and snow, we just get more rain and cold. It's so depressing. Never mind, arrangements for going to Nerja are falling into place nicely.

Not wanting to get soaked again, I started working on Morning Prayer and Reflection for a week Thursday rather than idling waiting for the rain to stop. At tea time, Owain reminded us it's Shrove Tuesday by sending us a photo of his first pancake. Unknown to me, Clare had quietly prepared batter earlier in the day, so I cooked half a dozen to eat with savoury fillings: garlic mushrooms, vegan cheese, hummous, and for Clare scrambled egg with vegan hard cheese. A photo from Kath revealed, ratatouille, nutella, banana and raspberries. Rachel is seven hours behind us, so we've yet to see what she comes up with! Foodie family fun.

As it stopped raining around sunset, I decided after supper to walk in the dark for an hour. Then I finished off and printed tomorrow's sermon and watched a couple more episodes of 'Bones', (can't find anything else I want to watch at the moment). Then bed.

Busy Monday

A cold, but sunny start to the day after a long night's sleep. One of the roofers arrived early to add a new section of drain pipe to the back of the house, and show Clare exactly how to open both of the new Velux windows, as we found them rather stiff yesterday.

After breakfast, and sending out a few emails, I had a long phone call with Iona, then went to St John's to attend Alf's funeral, at 94 he was one of the last of a generation of lifelong St John's members, living working and worshipping locally since returning from National Service in the RAF in 1950. He was an technician with the GPO, later British Telecoms, effectively in the same job for his entire working lifetime, through all the changes that involved. I loved the story told of him that he could tell you the number of the telegraph pole in the street where he used to meet with Lil his wife when they were courting! Such a lovely man.

On returning, I cooked a paella for lunch, using a generous quantity of a fish pie mix from the freezer. It's been a while since I did this, and the result was satisfactory, although it took me much longer than I expected. I've been trying to figure out how long I've had the big skillet pan I use for making paella. It's still in excellent condition, as it doesn't get heavy usage. It may be as much as ten years, but I can't pin it down, searching through my blog. When we'd eaten I did my share of the housework, then wrote and recorded another talk for Basma, and then went for a walk. I saw a redstart for the first time this year, in its usual foraging ground near the stables and got a photo of it.

Today's news reports on the mounting international pressure on the Israeli government announcing a final assault on the remaining brigades of Hamas fighters concealed among the population of the Gaza border crossing city of Rafa, hosting over a million displaced Palestinians, driven to seek refuge there as a result of the fighting in the north. Inevitably this action will cost many more civilian lives. Leading international figures may be saying 'Enough is enough' and calling for a truce and exchange of hostages to start with, but it will take mounting pressure from the Israeli electorate, perhaps enough to dislodge Netanyahu and those who are keeping his government in power before there's any possibility of change. The damage done to Israel's standing and credibility by such an extreme right wing regime is incalculable. It's heartbreaking.

After supper I completed and uploaded this Thursday's Morning Prayer video, then watched this week's double episode of 'Silent Witness'.

Contemplative Liturgy - first steps

A colder day, but a sunny one. After breakfast I drove to St German's to celebrate the Eucharist. During the week the church central heating was repaired and filling the building with warm. As its half term week the crew young servers were absent. So too was Brian the organist who's gone down with a bug, and no last minute stand-in organist. We agreed a few modifications to the choreography, and I led the singing of all the hymns and best known Mass setting used. The congregation of two dozen rose to the occasion, singing everything with confidence. St German's church acoustics are wonderful for singing unaccompanied. This encourages a slower reflective kind of worship, the kind you'd experience in a Cistercian monastery. It was truly uplifting, and I think everyone enjoyed the experience.

Basma wasn't at church this morning. She emailed me later to say that she'd been up for much of the night with her daughter, getting her ready for an early coach to Heathrow and a flight to Amman in Jordan to see her grandparents. Now that Maya has her residence permit she can safely travel back to the country from which she fled with her mother six years ago. I hope it won't be too long before Basma gets her residence permit and can make the same journey herself.

I got home for lunch just after one. Afterwards, I recorded and edited the audio for next Thursday's Morning Prayer, then went for a walk. After supper, Sunday evening prime time telly Antiques Roadshow, then Call the Midwife. As I want to attend Alf's funeral at St John's tomorrow morning, I thought I'd get a head start on my Monday morning chore of preparing next Sunday's liturgical texts and making a start on the next edition of Sway. I completed all I needed to do, ready to send, in an hour. That's quite a few extra things done that I didn't expect to do quite so easily. Hopefully it will ease the pressure in the coming week, with Ash Wednesday and next Sunday's sermons to prepare.

Rats in the park

A sunny start to the day and quite mild. Rhiannon slipped away quietly just after five, for a local train to get her to Bridgend by half past six. We surfaced for breakfast around nine o'clock, and made an effort to get out of the house ourselves, and drive to Dyffryn Gardens for a sunny morning walkabout. We had a snack lunch there, returned home and then I went for a walk in Thompson's Park.

At the side of the pond at the centre of the park, I spotted a couple of rats shyly emerging from the reed bed on to the grass. It's the first time I've seen them in this location. They weren't big creatures, possibly juveniles. Recent migrants or offspring of a resident family? No idea. If the two I saw are a breeding pair there could be dozens more by the end of the year. 

The couple serving in the Lufkin coffee bar, but they weren't interested, just complacent that their food outlet was well protected, when I mentioned this to them, but can you be confident the creatures won't gnaw their way through the wiring or the corner of a wooden door post or partition in search of something else to eat? I decided to tweet a photo to the Council's pest control department. Just in case.

I cooked prawns with veg and brown rice for supper then added several new items of information to Sway which have come in since yesterday. Then I whiled away the rest of the evening watching more episodes of 'Bones' again. An incredible variety of bizarre story lines and medical scientific jargon which may just be gobbledegook or not, but it's amusing stuff when there's nothing else of interest on telly. Finally, before bed, I printed off tomorrow's sermon.

Surprise visit

The same weather pattern continues, overcast and damp in the morning, the bouts of rain intermittently all day, sometimes heavy. Quite depressing really. I was up for breakfast at eight thirty, answering emails and writing a reflection through the morning until it was time to cook lunch. I thought the scaffolding might be taken down today, but when a workman turned up, it was to take advantage of our scaffolding to go up and examine the roofing next door around the chimney as our neighbour has found a leak. It's nothing to do with our roof being replaced, but with an existing fault.

When it was time for a walk after lunch it was raining, so I had to dress up and take a brolly. It drizzled for the first hour and rained persistently for the last fifteen minutes, I didn't get as soaked as I did yesterday, thankfully. It's just unpleasant, day after day.

When I got back, I thought I'd check my Post Office money card account, which still has a few euros on it from last year and worked normally. When I tried to use the Money Card app on my phone, I discovered it had been updated and the new version failed to let me log in, or recreate my account. When Clare checked the app on her phone to access her own Post Office Money card, she was able to update it perfectly, witn no problem. The app on my phone was confused by the fact that I have more than one gmail account, and wouldn't let me choose between them. 

When I looked at the reviews on Google Play Store, as many of them had the same experience of logging in as Clare, and an equal number reported a failure or an app so dysfunctional as to be unusable. This is a strange state of affairs. I found I could log into the Money Card website through Chrome on my phone without any problem, so that's what I'll do if I need to check expenditure in future. To hell with the app.

I finished preparing the text for next Thursday's Morning Prayer after supper, but didn't get around to recording it. I watched a couple more episodes of 'Bones', while we waited for Rhiannon to arrive. She came late on a flying visit, having taken a train straight after work. She's on her way to a film studio Bridgend where she has a job as an extra. She has to take an early morning train to arrive there for seven o'clock so she'll only have a short night's sleep, It was delightful to see her again and hear about her recent trip to Venice with her auntie Viv before going to bed at midnight.

Life in a building site - almost there

Another overcast damp morning. I posted today's Morning Prayer YouTube video link to WhatsApp, then dozed until nearly nine o'clock. A long time in bed, but awake for eighty minutes during the night, if my Fitbit sleep monitoring app is to be trusted. I feel the sleep does me good if I get up feeling clear headed. It's not always the case regrettably. Apparently the intermittent effects of anaesthetic can show up a month or so after an operation, as the body slowly purges itself naturally of a foreign chemical.

By the time I left for the Eucharist at St John's drizzle was turning into rain, and persisted until the evening. Fr Colin celebrated with six of us in the congregation. Tomorrow is St Teilo's Day, one of our Cathedral patron saints, but we kept his feast a day early. As I was nearing home, saw the lorry containing our loaded builders' skip turning skilfully in order to leave the street. Later I found a roofing nail made of brightly shining copper in the gutter, so I swept the area where the skip had stood, to make sure no other nails had fallen into the gutter. A couple of times in the past fourteen years, I've had a car tyre has been punctured by a nail picked up in the street after work was done in one of the neighbouring houses. Next to go will be the scaffolding.

I worked on next week's Morning Prayer and Reflection before lunch, then afterwards booked a mid-term locum duty round trip flight home for a couple of days with Vueling in early May. I was fortunate to get places as there are only two flights a week that early in the season. The timing is good and not too early, considering I must get from Nerja to Malaga airport, and vice versa. Clare has yet to decide when she will join me.

Rain persisted throughout my ninety minute walk in the park, and down to the river whose water level was up to the top of the fish ladder and still rising by the looks  of it. I still got soaked, despite rain trousers and carrying my brolly. One of the spokes is about to break, so sadly it won't last much longer. It's been fairly long lasting as brollies go. Buffeting by the wind this past few months has taken its toll however. Pretty good for a free brolly, which I got when buying a new pair of Ecco shoes a couple of years ago.

After supper, I did the Mailchimp email distribution of the link to this week's Sway. Later then usual, as my mind was preoccupied with sorting out my extra flights after lunch. I don't suppose too many will notice. Thursday seems a bit early to me, but this was the routine created by Mthr Frances, whose day off was Friday. I don't feel free to make any changes, as a 'locum' editor, I stick to what's given. Others will have to decide the future of this newsletter, and agree a production routine. I'm determined it won't be me. It's time to employ someone to do the Ministry Area Office work and manage communications between six lots of stakeholders.

With this chore done and nothing else to do this evening I watched the finale of 'Trigger Point' series two. I spotted what was going to happen at the end about half way through, which rather reduced the dramatic tension of the climax in which the baddies got their comeuppance. And then another episode of 'Bones' to finish the day. I'm really looking forward to a change of routine and scenery at the other end of Lent.

Life in a building site - nearly there

Another mild and cloudy day, but thankfully no threat of rain. Clare managed to sleep comfortably on a spare mattress in the lounge. I slept the usual amount, but last evening's dramatic disruption impaired sleep quality. The Velux installation guy arrived as I was getting up at 8.30, and was at work while we were having breakfast, nailing the wooden casing into place to hold the window. After completing the window job, ridge tiles went into place and the access ladder came down, revealing the finished job. He and his partner finished and tidied up as best they could and left by lunchtime.

I went to St Catherine's for the Eucharist, celebrated by Fr Tomas Watkin today. We were eight altogether including Jane his wife. I got to know her at St John's city parish church as her father Bill Hamlin was one of the ancients of the congregation at that time, one of St John's historians of the twentieth century, along with Bill John, who taught me history at Lewis School Pengam as a teenager. 

Both were quiet and thoughtful men, who brought perspective to any discussion about the present and future hopes for the church at the heart of the city. Bill Hamlin had an extensive photo archive of the church, which I would have loved to see but before I could, he died. Clearing his house was a nightmare for Jane, as he was by then a widower. She knew about the photos and their value, but getting  around to investigating them was bound to take its time. She hadn't got around to doing this before I retired, and I have no idea if she ever did.. She and Tomos popped into the church hall to say hello after the service but didn't stay, so sadly I didn't get around to asking her.

Just after the service started my mobile phone started blasting out my ring tone, much to my annoyance and embarrassment, as I'd set the phone on the 'do not disturb' setting. But this doesn't silence incoming calls. That's controlled separately and you have to dig down two menu levels to find it. The 'do not disturb' switch kills only those annoying notification sounds it seems, the ones I've replaced with a buzz. It's so rare I get unexpected calls on my mobile, I'm not sure this had happened to be me before. If only I'd put it into flight mode, there'd have been no problem. Lesson learned.

I collected the weekly veggie bag from Chapter on my way home. Clare had already prepared most of the lunch, leave me to cook the pasta and lay the table. I needed a snooze after lunch, and then went out to do the Co-op grocery shopping, before taking an hour's walk around Llandaff Field. When I got back Clare had done her Beanfreaks shopping trip, and started work on cleaning the very dusty attic room. I helped her to restore order to the piled up room furniture, and vacuum white dust out of the floorboard cracks and nail holes.

There are still a few finishing touches needed, as the edges of the Velux windows need grouting, and in several places, roofing nails have penetrated the ceiling plaster and pushed off a small round patch. The attic room is going to need painting, and the bathroom, where nails have also penetrated. All the walls and ceilings from entrance hall to attic too. Nothing has been repainted in decades. When that's done, all the rooms and kitchen will need to be done. Sooner or later it had to be done.

After supper, I booked my return EasyJet flight after my stay in Nerja. The total cost is £340, plus trips to and from Bristol airport. Thankfully reimbursable. With travel insurance costing £153, it's getting to be too costly to holiday abroad. I'm fortunate in being able to spend time in Spain and provide a service that will cover most of my costs of travel, and allow me the satisfaction of doing what I love most in life.

Job done, I watched two more episodes of 'Trigger Point', a complex  story of hi-tech' terrorist attacks orchestrated with military precision right at the heart of London's financial industry. Who will prove to be the criminal genius behind it all? That can wait until tomorrow. Time for bed now

Life in a building site - the unexpected

A grey overcast, windy and damp start to the day, but the weather deteriorated as it went on. The Palace has announced that King Charles has cancer and is receiving treatment for it. This was discovered while in hospital for a prostate operation, but the cancer is unrelated, and so far undisclosed. It's admirable that he's being so open about these health issues, making this a matter of public interest so that he can encourage others to get themselves diagnosed if they have any health worries. Sadly, no amount of exhortation can make up for the shortage of medical and nursing staff, and the woeful lack of co-ordination in some areas when it comes to ensuring treatment processes are as efficient as they need to be.

The roofers arrived early-ish, only to discover that one of the Velux windows was smashed in its box, and the other had a part missing. They got on with small tasks while they waited for replacements. I got on with making several new pages for Sway, and checking content with the informants. Clare's study group arrived for a session, while I worked in the front room. Then I cooked lunch.

We had a hairdressing appointment with Chris, so Clare went on her own and I minded the house. The big back Velux window was carried up the stairs and installed without a hassle, but there wasn't enough time before dark to install the smaller front one. The roofers left at three thirty, and shortly after, I went out for a walk, first down the lane so that I could take a photograph of the back Velux installation from a distance. A big drop of rain fell on my camera, and the heavens started to open, so I returned home for rain trousers and brolly. 

I was out for an hour and a half in a deserted park and got soaked. It rained non-stop for over six hours, and the wind blew to make things worse. Clare arrived from Chris's Salon, also soaked. When she went up to the main bedroom, she found water dripping fast from the ceiling on to the duvet, just like a burst pipe, except there are no water pipes in that part of upstairs. The attack room above was perfectly dry. Very odd. We did our best to remove mattress and duvet and installed several buckets. Clare sent an SOS call to the roofers, and within an hour the guy who had been installing the Velux window earlier arrived to inspect. 

He figured out that water running off the roof was entering through a small gap at the edge of the place where the second Velux window would have been installed had it arrived on time. That gap, and the tile surfaces surrounding the opening would have been sealed off and waterproof, if the window had fitted. Water came in, ran along a beam across the ceiling and the came through at the lowest point in the centre. A coincidence of mishaps, with the foulest weather imaginable. 

The guy had to go up on the roof in the dark and driving rain, spot the cause of the crisis, secure the area from the weather, then crawl into the rood space to check there were no other weak spots. All was well. Safe for the night. He told us that after leaving this afternoon he had driven to Bridgend for a job and was driving back Caerphilly where he lives when he got the SOS call from his boss. What a life!

With cracks appearing across the bedroom ceiling, it seemed prudent for Clare not to sleep there tonight, so a spare mattress on the lounge floor provided the alternative. She didn't fancy my bed. She finds it too uncomfortable.

After supper I started a load of bread dough and baked two loves of bread which were out of the oven just before bed time. In the meanwhile, I watched another couple of episodes of 'Bones', and tried no to think how much worse this could have been if Clare hadn't gone upstairs when she arrived home after two hours of wind and rain and discovered the leak.

Life in a building site - On hold

Cloudy again today, and a cold wind, but at least the cloud base is higher. I had a disturbed night's sleep and woke up after nine. The awaited Velux windows didn't arrive but we're promised they'll be here  and installed tomorrow morning. The bay window needs re-tiling. It's a separate job, as for some inexplicable reason this wasn't included in the original estimate. Then the big tidy up can begin. We did the Monday housework, and will most likely have to do it again when the scaffolding and skip have been taken away.

I spent the morning searching my digital storage for an archive file of photos taken locally in the last half of last year. I seem to have deleted them from Google Photos. I had to retrieve them piecemeal from the SD cards of my various cameras, six hundred altogether, now safely deposited on a portable drive together with the companion file from the first half of last year.

After cooking a lunch of chillied beans with mushrooms rice and veg, I prepared and emailed readings for next Sunday to the usual recipients, and made a start on next weekend's Sway. Then, two hours walking in the park until it was dark.

Much to my relief, my renewed driving license card arrived in today's post, two weeks and two days after sending the paper application, when the promoted digital on-line service didn't deliver. Now I can apply for an International Driving Permit at the Post Office to accompany the card when I'm abroad.

After supper, I watched this week's double episode of 'Silent Witness'. Interesting to have another story in the series all about the dangers of social media algorithms, fake news the impact these can have on people without them realising, and how easily genuine scientific evidence can be corrupted and faked. We must beware of putting our trust in opinion and fact that cannot be verified.

Life in a building site - the Lord's Day

Another mild, damp and cloudy day with occasional strong gusts of wind. I drove to St German's for Mass this morning, my first outing in the car since the op, being warned not to drive for two weeks. There were about twenty people there for the service, held in the hall, as the heating in church still isn't working due to a drop in water pressure from an underfloor leak. It's hoped remedial work will start tomorrow. Fr Stewart celebrated, with a full crew of servers and clouds of incense, which didn't disperse so quickly in a building with a low ceiling. I'm surprised the kitchen smoke alarm didn't go off. 

Basma came, able to walk again after a badly sprained ankle. We had a good chat after the service, during which she said she's appreciate seeing the texts of my talks for her, as this would allow her to translate them into Arabic. I had hoped that talks on their own would be useful for making sense of ambiguous words or phrases, but I was mistaken. It's easy enough to send the texts with the recording, and the first thing I did when I got home was to send the five texts already used.

St German's next priest in charge, Fr Jarel Robinson-Brown, will be licensed on Saturday 23rd March. Fr Andrew Sully will be licensed at St David's Ely on 1st March, and it's planned that Canton Churches will have a joint Eucharist on Sunday the 3rd. The appointments bring to an end my tours of locum duty in West and East Cardiff Ministry Areas. A month's respite, then two months locum duty in Nerja. What will happen after that remains to be seen. Is there anything else, anything more I can contribute in what will be my eightieth year, assuming I have the energy? Heaven only knows.

After lunch, I went straight out for a walk, though I could have done with a snooze, but I wanted to take advantage of the weather. The Fields were starting to dry out, but the latest bout of persistent light rain has revealed just how waterlogged the ground still is. Although it was 11C, it felt much colder when the wind blew. I was glad to get home before the usual ambient temperature drop at sunset.

After supper, I watched three episodes of the newly arrived second series of 'Trigger Point' streamed on ITVX. It's the same formulaic mix of fast paced dramatic action full of shocking deadly incidents starring Vicky McClure as an experienced bomb disposal officer. To my mind, there's something unreal about her being constantly at the centre of crisis action, with next to no time to react or recover before thee next one, rarely losing her cool for more than a few seconds. It makes her far too much of a super hero, head of a team whose members are less like partners and more like acolytes, despite their own experience and expertise. This doesn't quite add up.

Life in a building site - Match Day

A grey day with low cloud, and although the Accuweather phone app said 'no precipitation' this was not at all true. The dropped kerb zones along the neighbourhood streets, having just about dried out recently after weeks of rain were small ponds again, causing grief to pedestrian and wheeled users. It was after nine by the time we got up and had toasted waffles from the freezer for breakfast. Then I answered a few emails, wrote, recorded and edited another couple of talks for Basma, then cooked mackerel, quinoa and veg for lunch while Clare ventured out in the rain to get frozen foodstuffs from Iceland.

Afterwards, I went and walked for an hour, and was soaked by fine rain blown by the wind. I had to return and change my waterproof top layer to finish off. I met Jan and Peter out walking their dogs. We walked together and chatted. They had to park their car in a side street opposite the the park, as car parking in spaces at the periphery of the fields were all taken up by these walking into town for the big match rather than pay extortionate city centre parking fees. One of those things you have to live with when you're half an hour's walk from the National Stadium. Apart from a few other dog walkers the park was deserted, though there were a couple of guys in kilts walking purposefully in the direction of the city center for this afternoon's Wales v Scotland rugby match. I guess they're used to this kind of weather more than we are.

I spent the evening writing and re-acquainting myself with elements of the history of Arab Christianity, to remind Basma of what she inherits by being baptized. Arabic has its many dialects and an evolved oral culture. I was fascinated to find that Jews, Christians and other ethnic groups of Palestine and Syria spoke Arabic as well as their mother tongue and Greek. They would read scripture in Hebrew, Aramaic Greek and translate into Arabic as need arose. It wasn't until the end of the tenth century that a written Arabic translation of the Gospel appeared - in Moorish Cordoba, of all places! Moses, the first Bishop of the Arabs, in the fourth century was a hermit and desert nomad shepherd, who was consecrated as a missionary to evangelize nomadic Arab tribes. Complete freedom from religious institutions. Wow! 

The Northern Ireland Assembly met today for the first time in two years and appointed Michelle O'Neil of Sinn Fein as First Minister. It's a remarkable moment in the troubled history of Ulster, and hopefully a positive turning point in the social and political history of the province. Meanwhile, Wales lost at home to Scotland by one point. There'll be some mournful faces  in church tomorrow.

Life in a building site - day five

A cloudy damp sort of day. The roofing team didn't arrive, as the replacement Velux windows have yet to arrive for installation and completion of the tiling work. After breakfast, I took a bus to town, and walked from there to the School of Optometry for an eleven o'clock eye test, with a new young optometrist called Joanne. The examination room now has a new piece of kit that automates changing the selection of lenses through which you peer at the eye chart. Notes are made electronically each time a lens is exchanged, thus eliminating recording error. The device makes strange robotic noises on booting up. Quite bizarre really!

I'll have another session in a month's time to complete testing, with a view to getting on the waiting list for another cataract operation. The left eye cataract was unevenly placed so, I had a clear patch, bottom right of the eye, but the right eye is dead centre and the fog is consistent. Thank goodness my left eye is good now as I'd be in trouble if both eyes had cataracts.

I walked back home directly through Bute Park. It took me just under forty five minutes. Next time round if the weather is fair, I'll walk both ways. It took me twenty five minutes to walk from Westgate Street out to my destination and I had to wait for a bus which with the wait at the stop fifteen minutes to get me to town. Legs are a bit more reliable than buses, sad to say.

After lunch I went to the GP surgery to have my blood pressure taken. The diastolic pressure is normal, and as ever, the systolic is up a little after walking to the surgery. Given a bit longer to settle down before taking the readings, systolic pressure could well have dropped to normal. Nothing to worry about. Nurse warned me about taking it easy after the op. I'm never sure what people mean when they say that. A doze in the chair after lunch? I do that anyway. I'm back to walking 10k mostly in fits and starts during the day. Today was an exception, packing in the distance, before the time I normally go out for a walk.

I called into St Catherine's to see if I'd left my grey beret in the sacristy, but I hadn't. Then I went to St John's to check there, calling at Tesco's on the way to buy the weekly foodbank offering to leave there. No beret there either. It's nowhere to be found in the house. I can't figure out how I lost it and feel sad about it. When I got home, I tried having a 'take it easy' snooze in an armchair to no avail. Two of the roofers came by to carry the old Velux windows down from the loft room and deposit them in the skip, which could be taken away this evening or tomorrow maybe. Skip providers are pretty busy these days it seems as there's a fair amount of renovation work going on as properties change hands, especially in Pontcanna, where house prices have risen phenomenally in this now trendy neighbourhood.

In an unusual initiative, a collection of government officials have today published a critical declaration of concern at the policies of their political leadership in continuing to support the Israeli leadership's war on Gaza when it is producing a humanitarian catastrophe for oppressed Palestinians, with unrelenting attacks that are costing such death, suffering and danger for so many. 'Enough is enough' they're saying, echoing the concern of so many aid agencies over the past several months. Talks about a truce involving hostage release are said to be continuing, but it's hard to imagine how this can succeed while both sides continue to fight to the death. A crime against humanity, as if the Holocaust never happened.

After supper, I wrote another talk to record for Basma, then whiled away the evening 'taking it easy' with a few episodes of 'Bones' before early bed.

Life in a building site - day four

A clear sky overnight and air temperature of 1C. A good night's sleep nevertheless. I posted this week's YouTube link to WhatsApp, at half past seven and then dozed until half past eight. I walked to St John's for the Eucharist, but when I was half way there realised that I'd forgotten to take my keys, as Ruth asked if I would lock up, since she and John needed to leave early to reach Llantwit Major in time for the funeral of Fr John Webber, one of the parish beloved retired clergy. I had to turn back and retrieve them, but still made it in time for the service, led by Meg with six of us in the congregation.

When I got back I worked on producing next week's Morning Prayer video and uploading it to YouTube before lentils and veg for lunch. Then I did the Mailchimp distribution email for this week's Sway and went for a walk, thinking about the best way to acquire a Ministry Area gmail account in a way that would endure the many changes of users on different devices, likely to occur with the passage of time. The account holder would need to be 1) not elderly, 2) settled in the community, 3) not a cleric or someone likely to move on within years. In other words someone to act as a stable point of reference for using these gmail account credentials to log in to other services.

Having thought it through, I contacted Andrew our Ministry Area leader and explained the idea, and got his agreement to pursue it. Later in the evening I chatted to another very reliable parishioner who is going to be here for the long term, who agreed to set up an account to provide us with secure credentials needed. It's a step forward which enables others to work on a website using free on-line web creation tools with the stable information content we need to see posted where it can easily be found. Hopefully this will allow progress to be made before our new Ministry Area leader is licensed on St David's Day.

Before turning in for the night, I edited another talk I recorded for Basma, with a useful tips from Owain on using the Audacity sound editor. He's feeling pleased at the moment as the Insolvency Service has agreed to fund an expensive in-service training course, which will refine the skills he uses every day in his work as a web copywriter. All he needs now is that backdated pay award he's been waiting for unjustifiably for the past four months. 

The roof tiles are nearly all in place now, all that's awaited is the delivery of two new velux windows. Thankfully, it's been a dry sunny day. Hopefully the same tomorrow.