Chromebook quandry

Another sunny day, with waffles for breakfast again to add to the cheer. Our car tax is due for renewal today, so that was a chore to do when we'd eaten. I've decided to keep the car, though our annual mileage is now about 2000, a quarter of what it should be for a car eighteen years old. It's used for medical appointments where public transport is too time consuming, family visits and seaside outings, trips to the municipal recycling depot, and only occasionally for out of town shopping. Total running costs are probably a bit higher than using taxis and coaches, but some of the trips we make are impossible without a car, so it's worth keeping.  I can't see the need to replace it.  It's in good condition and reliable. So far, no unforeseen repairs. It's a low emission vehicle avoiding ULEZ tariffs. I'm likely stop driving before petrol cars are banned altogether. Thankfully paying car tax on-line is easy with a well designed gov.uk website.

I cooked a seafood paella for lunch, something I haven't done for ages. It turned out quite well. Then after an hour's siesta, we walked to town and had a drink in the John Lewis restaurant with a free scone, thanks Clare's store loyalty card. I noticed an Acer Chromebook on sale with a specification equalling mine and it's discounted from £349 to £279. That's cheap, when you think I paid £20 more five and a half years ago for a similar discounted model and prices have risen with inflation. My present Chromebook received its final security update back in June - built-in redundancy in other words. It still works though slightly  vulnerable from now on. It's possible to re-purpose the hardware to run Linux, but it's tricky. I came away reluctant to buy unless I need to, perhaps I should take advantage and buy after the weekend. 

We came home on the 61 bus from the new 'interchange' in Central Square. If you want to be different why call it 'interchange' and not 'terminus'? Bus 'station' we used to call it when it was next to the train 'station'. That would confuse slightly less. It's so pretentious. I completed my daily walking goal before we had supper, then spent the evening binge watching the rest of 'Presumed Guilty' in which the resolution of the crimes was complex and the culprits hard to anticipate right down to the last ten minutes. Still not sure I can reassemble the plot from memory! 

RSV - vaccine and scripture

A sunny start to the day, warmer after a cool night. After breakfast two men arrived and spent the morning fitting replacement radiators in the downstairs shower and upstairs bathroom. This obliged me to clear a space in my study to permit access to the radiator under the window so that it could be drained. I took the manuscript of my novel to Diana for her to read, and we chatted for half an hour about the inspiration we both got from growing up in the South Wales Valleys. Then I returned for lunch, just as the radiator men were leaving.

I took my prescription renewal form to the chemist's before going to walk. The pharmacist told me that the RSV vaccination is, as I thought, something new. Winter 'flu vaccinations start in October. The acronym RSV in my recollection stands for Revised Standard Version of the Bible, which appeared in 1952 as a development of the Tudor era Authorised Version using contemporary scholarship to give more accurate translations of Hebrew and Greek words, but in a traditional form of language. It was widely used for bible study until contemporary language translations appeared from the sixties onwards: New English Bible, Jerusalem Bible, Today's English Version, New International Version, and so on. I still have one but rarely read from it, relying on reading from on-line texts these days, in whatever versions of scripture they present. RSV texts are still those I have most memorised over a lifetime, however.

Walking in a street on my way to the park I spotted a grasshopper jump off a garden wall on to the pavement near me. It wasn't easy to see where it landed at first, but when I did, the resulting photo I took was surprisingly good. Later at Blackweir Bridge I spotted a cormorant taking off and got a clear shot of it flying up river under the bridge. I saw a heron and an egret in different spots on the east bank downriver then spotted an odd shape in the trees above the riverbank, resembling a kids kite crashed and hanging from a branch. I took a photo using the Olympus OMD E-M10's digital zoom option, and realised it bore a resemblance to a large heron stretched out. Dead or alive? 

When I got home I uploaded the picture to examine magnified to check the detail. A heron, but not a dead one. Its neck was fully elongated and its feet firmly grasping a lower branch. Its wings half extended, and hanging down if not drooping.    I searched through a wide range of heron pictures on Google images and came across just one in a similar posture to the one in my photo, entitled heron sunbathing. And yes, it was facing westward in full warm afternoon sunshine. Not part of a mating display ritual but a relaxed pose by a creature that knows it's safe from predators high in the tree canopy. Fascinating and rare.

After supper this week's episode of 'Hostage' on More 4 then another of 'Presumed Guilty' which I found a few days ago and have intermittently. It's a French cold case murder mystery, set in a Breton coastal town. Complex with lots of flashbacks, with the same actress playing daughter and her murdered mother (with a different hairstyle), and a lot being made of the look-alike factor.

Another jab appointment

It was quite cold overnight and this morning and I woke up late to clouds and sunshine. Despite going to bed early I slept light, and posted today's YouTube link to WhatsApp three quarters of an hour later than usual. Clare got busy preparing a casserole for a late lunch, before we drove to Rumney for a late morning hairdo appointments with Chris. 

He's still working in his salon behind its wrecked front section, boarded up after a  malefactor drove a lorry into it two months ago. Loss adjusters have reported on the damage but the insurance payout will only cover a quarter of what a like-for-like rebuild would cost, so he's planning to re-model the premises to make it less vulnerable to attack, with bollards added outside to defend against ram raiders in future. Hopefully this can be done in a more cost effective way. The police seem to have done little to investigate. The day's news reported on the current epidemic of shop lifting, some of it carried out to order and re-sold to crooked retailers at a discount price. A criminal enterprise driven by the cravings of drug addicts, sadly.

It was quarter past one by the time we reached home, but thanks to the casserole Clare made we were soon eating lunch. I had a message from Basma reporting that she had been able to arrange with the Holiday Inn management to store and prepare her special diet food, and retrieve warmer clothing from storage in a corner of St German's Church Hall, thanks to support from Hilary and Peter.

After we'd eaten I walked as far as Tesco's on Western Avenue and down the Taff Trail on the east side of the river to Blackweir. I got a few good close up photos of a heron standing at the foot of gradient next to the fish ladder, then crossed over and walked along the west bank, where I spotted an egret perched high on a tree branch overlooking the river. It's the first time I've seen one do this here, and it reminded me of times I stayed in Mojacar and saw many hundreds of egrets roosting overnight, clinging to the reeds and bushes on the sea shore where the Rio Agua outflow is blocked by a sandbank and ends in the charco which forms the nature reserve. 

In the mail yesterday we received notice of vaccination appointments for two week's time. It informed us that people in our age bracket were prioritised to be offered the jab to protect against something called the Respiratory Synctyial Virus that slowly affects lungs nose and throat, causing cold-like symptoms, unlike 'flu which comes on rapidly. Its impact has more serious consequences the older you are. Thirty thousand under fives and nine thousand over seventy-fives are hospitalised with RSA each year. If it's possible to prevent this spreading, it's going to diminish demand for medical treatment. I guess we'll be offered the 'flu jab as well in a few months time.

After supper, I watched the classic 1971 American crime thriller 'The French Connection', awarded five Oscars. Fast paced with pursuits on foot through New York and a hair rising car chase pursuing a train on an elevated rail track, brilliantly filmed in glorious Technicolor. The celluloid original has been digitized, and while it lacks the sharpness of a modern movie, the colours are faithful to the original film evoking an earlier era, just as black and white movies do. I noticed the difference when digitzing my collection of old slides and negatives when I do it correctly. And nowadays, the popular resurgence of film cameras with negatives digitized after processing indicates the interest in a unique medium for capturing colour and light subtleties in contrast to the tendency to harshness in images captured by a digital sensor. A reminder to me that I still have many packets of un-digitized negatives to work on when I get around to it.

Noticeboard update at long last

Another dull cloudy start to the day. It's Kath's birthday, so I sang a Happy Birthday message to her over WhatsApp, as soon as I got out of bed. At the moment she's sending us lots of photos of scenic places she and Anto have been visiting during their Santa Pola holiday. It's 35C in Alicante Province at the moment, so many of the pictures feature cool tree lined watery places inland.

After breakfast I went to the Eucharist at St Catherine's and was delighted to see a new updated church notice board just installed. It's bi-lingual, with names and email addresses of Fr Andrew and Fr Sion. It even has the QR code for the church website. It was last updated when the former Rectorial Benefice was in place, and Fr Mark was team leader. He moved on five and a half years ago. By that time the existing notice board had been there ten years. Service time changes and new Team Vicars meant changes to the content were effected with a strip of tape over the original. A poor statement about being 'church for others' in our Parish. The update is due to an ex-public relations professional now as priest in charge.

On my way to fetch the veggie bag from Chapter, I shopped for foodbank groceries in Tesco's and dropped them off at St John's. Clare was already cooking a prawn stir fry with rice for lunch when I arrived home. Despite a good night's sleep and not feeling tired, I slept in the chair for three quarters of an hour after we'd eaten. Some days I relax after a meal and don't fall asleep and other days I do. There seems to be no logic to it.

Later in the afternoon I went out and did the week's Coop grocery shopping, then want to Thompson's Park before supper to check on the Moorhens. There was no sight of the chicks or the male bird, only the female dabbling in the mud under the reed bed. I wonder where they have gone?

For a change we watched two engaging programmes on live telly: 'The Repair Shop' and 'Fake or Fortune'. Impressive demonstrations of artisan skills in the first and investigative art expertise in the second. In the evening news, the Israeli army has turned its attention to Iranian backed armed groups in refugee camps in Palestinian West Bank territory in the worst military incursion in twenty years. 

Lethal violence by illegal Israeli settlers driving Palestinians from their homes and land has continued unchecked for years. All this contributes to undermining the governing Palestinian Authority and reflects the Netanyahu government's rejection of any settlement leading to a Palestinian state. Total outrageous disregard for the welfare of millions of Palestinians makes the risk of total war in the Middle East seems closer than ever as a result. It's heartbreaking foolishness.

Ready for reading at last

Another damp cloudy day with occasional showers but at least a little warmer. As soon as I got up, I inspected the dough and found it hadn't risen beyond the bowl. I knocked it back and put it into two baking tins, but it still only rose very slowly until parked on the stove above the oven as it heated up to baking temperature.

I went to the surgery after breakfast for my annual hypertension review. Unfortunately the nurse was unable to tap into a vein to take blood samples so I was given another appointment for next Wednesday. It seems that veins narrow up if you don't drink enough water. Usually I avoid drinking much after supper and drink at least a pint - water tea or coffee - at breakfast time, but this morning I forgot and drank only a mugful of tea. I don't often feel thirsty, and have to make an effort to remember to top up before I start feeling rotten. It's frustrating.

Clare's study group arrived as I was leaving for the surgery, and was still in session when I got back. She popped the bread into the oven while I was out, and it was ready after returned.

With an early afternoon eye hospital appointment, she needed an early lunch, so I slipped into the kitchen and prepared the meal, so that it could be cooked and eaten as soon as the session finished. Then I drove her to UHW, returned, and while she was out, spent two hours recording and editing the audio for next week's Morning Prayer, then making and uploading to YouTube the video slide show to go with it. 

As it was still cloudy I checked my weather forecast app and found it was just about to start raining for a couple of hours, so I set out for a walk with my brolly and top coat. It didn't rain much at all, just a few very light showers, hardly worthy of rain gear. When I returned, Clare was just setting out for meditation group, so I had supper on my own. The bread turned out beautifully, much to my surprise. Denser than usual but moist. The slow leavening at a cooler ambient temperature than usual resulted in a finer textured loaf despite the late addition of the yeast. Delicious!

Then I finally got around to correcting the final chapters of my novel. It took me the rest of the evening. It's ready now for someone with fresh eyes to read it, and tell me if they think it's worth the effort of taking steps to publication. I have no way of knowing if it's the story I tell is interesting enough to others, or how to convince a publisher it's worth taking on.

Baking boo-boo

Rain overnight, but cloud was giving away to sunshine and warmer temperatures by the time I surfaced for breakfast. Afterwards, the usual weekly household chores regardless of it being Bank Holiday Monday. I had an idea about a reflection for next week's Morning Prayer, which I wrote and recorded while Clare cooked lunch. Then a walk in Llandaff Fields and on the woodland path by the Taff to Pontcanna Fields after we'd eaten. I glimpsed a cormorant fishing in the river, swollen by rain, but that was the only bird I saw all afternoon apart from the ever present crows and gulls.

When I got home, I started to prepare a new batch of bread dough. I couldn't figure out why it was sticky and unresponsive, until I realised while we were eating supper that I'd forgotten to add the dried yeast. I had to interrupt my meal and add it to the mix, not knowing if this anomaly in the baking ritual would lead to a dough disaster. Not long after doing this, I kneaded the inert dough and felt it come to life when I kneaded it, except that it was somewhat sticky.

Clare finished error checking the draft of my novel, so apart from an hour listening to the second episode of 'Sherwood', I spent the evening after supper correcting the digital version. The bread dough was so slow leavening it was necessary to leave it in a cool place overnight, and hope it doesn't overflow the bold and make a mess. Also, I didn't get to compete text correction before bed time, so it too will have to wait until tomorrow.

Unsettled Bank Holiday

Rain overnight again with the sun occasionally breaking through clouds and showers during the day, again more like autumn than summer. I drove to St German's to celebrate Mass in the absence of Fr Jarel this morning. It's must be six months since I was here as a locum priest during the last vacancy. No changes in the way the service is done, except that the high altar table was shifted eastward by about a metre for the St German's Day celebration in which Fr Jarel had his back to the congregation, after having spoken about the significance of this during the sermon. Apparently he reverted to the status quo the following week but the altar hasn't yet been returned to its original position. It really does require four strong weighty people to shift without risk.

This is only the second time in three months that I've officiated and preached at a Sunday sermon. While I enjoyed doing so and fitted into the liturgical ritual with relaxed ease, tiredness reminded me at the end of of the service how much energy it required to do this well. I have come to enjoy being in the congregation and coming away refreshed rather than drained by worship. Very much a sign of advancing age.

Basma wasn't in the congregation today. I learned that she'd been moved into emergency accommodation at the Holiday Inn out at Tongwynlais on Thursday this week. As her asylum seeker's tenure ended, it had be vacated in favour of an arriving asylum seeker. Her accommodation needs are handed over to Cardiff City Council, and she'll have to wait until 'temporary' housing is found for her, where she'll stay until she's eligible to go on the Council housing waiting list - a process that can take several years. I can't imagine a worse time to be relocated than just before a Bank Holiday weekend. There are concerns about her health because she needs to be on a restricted diet, and her mobility, as she's unsteady on her feet. This has quite an impact on the ease with which suitable accommodation can be found. It's tough for her, but she is used to fighting for herself, and is sometimes reluctant to accept help as a result.

By the time I'd chatted with fellow worshippers after the service and eaten fruit cake with coffee twice, it was twenty past one when I got home, even though the roads were almost empty with many people away from the city having a good time elsewhere. After lunch and a brief snooze I went for a walk in the park. 

I emailed Basma to find out how she's adjusting to her new circumstances. With difficulty was the response. No provision has been made for her strict dietary needs. Leaving the Holiday Inn is a problem as it has a steep drive, difficult to walk down safely for her. There are no pavements along the roadside for walking into Tongwynlais village. It may be a Holiday Inn, but in effect it's a motel. Heaven help you if you don't have a car. I phoned her to see if I could be of any help. She's on survival rations until Tuesday and is hoping to negotiate with the hotel manager and kitchen staff about dietary food preparation. But no, she didn't need help. Independent, just as I expected.

This evening a new series of 'Sherwood' started on BBC1. It's set in the present day, thirty years on from the previous series, set in the same community whose loyalties were divided by differences over pit closures and the miners' strike. It starts with a murder and its repercussions with suspicions of a return to gang warfare, but is there something else going here?  There's another episode tomorrow night.

Binge reading

Again it rained in the night, but the clouds were blown away by a strong breeze and the sun shone by mid morning, and for the rest of the day. Last week Clare found and bought the kind of electric waffle maker she had been searching for, and cooked waffles for our breakfast. As it hadn't yet stopped raining, I read my latest Spanish novel until Clare called me for lunch. The pace of the story is picking up and it's not yet clear how it's going to work out, as it's a mysterious story with a strong supernatural thread. Absorbing to say the least, even if I find the style verbose and need a fair number of dictionary visits to check if I have understood properly. No harm in that really

We had salmon soup for lunch, then drove to Penarth for a walk along the coast path in the sunshine. Since it's a Bank Holiday weekend, the promenade and cliff top path were busy, especially with dog walkers and couples with babies. We walked for an hour, had a drink in Cioni's cafe, then drove home again. The tide was out a very long way. Staring out of the cafe window at Flatholm in the distance, I noticed for the first time a slender white line at a slight angle to the horizon, running from shore to sea. On the way back to the car, I took a photo from the cliff edge, confirming that it's a long jetty, making it possible for a boat to stop there and unload at low tide, if needs be. as well as high tide. It's visibility today is noticeable at low tide due to illumination by the afternoon sun. The strange things you notice while staring!

When we returned, I continued reading my novel until supper, then afterwards until I finished it, after ten o'clock. Tomorrow's sermon to print off and then bed.

Roadworks

It rained quite heavily overnight, but the west wind blew again and cleared away some of the cloud cover, so we woke up to sunshine, though not a clear sky. After breakfast I finished my Sunday sermon for St German's then prepared lunch early, ready for cooking while Clare was out. When she returned I walked to Nesbit's kitchen equipment store on Cowbridge Road East to buy her a new pastry brush. The meal was ready to serve by the time I got back. After lunch I had a brief siesta then went to collect my summer jacket from dry cleaning at Canton Launderette, much needed after my Spanish sojourn. Then an hour in Llandaff Fields before a cup of tea and a piece of cake. 

When schools close for the summer vacation, the volume of weekday commuting traffic decreases greatly, roads are quieter, easier for a pedestrian to cross. About a month ago near the junction of Llanfair and Llandaff Roads, the cover of an access chamber for underground cables and pipes was left open a few inches and surrounded by yellow plastic security barriers with a 'No smoking' notice. Someone had reported a smell of gas in the vicinity. I lost count of the number of times stupid mischief makers knocked over the barriers for someone else to re-erect. Last week several surveyors' hieroglyphs got sprayed on the  footpath. Still no indication of when anything else would happen. 

Two days ago big vans turned up, temporary traffic lights were installed bypassing ordinary ones, more yellow barriers were erected and the junction of Llanfair and Romilly Roads reduced to one way traffic, while a meter square hole was excavated in the road. I wondered how long this would create congestion at a normally quiet time of year. To my surprise, twenty four hours later, the hole was refilled and temporary lights taken away. A smooth operation. All back to normal again, problem solved. 

This was perhaps the best time for the work to be done. Doing this at a busy junction involves tight collaboration between several work teams. Hiring an excavation service, arranging delivery and removal of safety barriers, hiring and managing temporary traffic lights, scheduling engineers to investigate the leak. Organising and planning all this takes time, especially if there are more urgent gas leaks elsewhere in the city. Which serves to explain why it took so long from reporting the gas leak to conclusion. Thankfully hi-tech sensors are used initially determine the measure of risk. Last winter it took several months to deal with a leak on an even busier stretch of road by Llandaff Fields in a stretch of old gas pipeline that had to be patched as replacing pipe in a 300m stretch of road would cause even more disruption, and need more time and resources to implement. What it takes to run a city!

Full cloud cover returned later in the day, and with the temperature at 16C it felt like an autumnal evening. After supper I read until nine then watched this week's episode of 'Hostage' before going to bed early.

Registering the ivory

Another overcast start to the day with occasional light showers and a strong wind which didn't drive away the clouds until early evening. I posted my Morning Prayer YouTube link to WhatsApp three quarters of an hour later than usual, as I woke up early, switched on the news and then dozed off again. Not that it matters that much to anyone but me, trying to retain a semblance of punctuality in my everyday routine. 

After breakfast, I helped Clare decant photos of her clavichord from her phone to her laptop, so she could use one to apply for a registration certificate for an instrument with ivory keys. It seems that if you wish to sell or donate any artefact containing real ivory you are legally obliged under the CITES convention on endangered species to register a formal declaration to this effect. There are special categories for ancient artefacts, another for the period for the post-war period up until 1974, and another for the period since the trade in ivory was banned. Each is covered by a different type of license. The one Clare is required to keep on file permits for up to 20% ivory content for anything produced in the period up to 1974. In reality true ivory keys will be a fraction of a percent of the weight of the instrument, so it's of little concern. Still it has to be done. Ivory keys have been replaced post-1974 by synthetic materials of similar quality.

Then I did the weekly big grocery visit to the Co-op. Although no rain was forecast, a sudden brief shower left me very damp, but by the time I was walking home again, my top coat had almost dried out in the wind at 18C. The shopping trolley was unusually laden with heavy items on the return trip with all that I purchased. In addition, when emptying it, I discovered a sweet potato and two avocados which I hadn't bought beneath the base of the bag. Somehow they slipped into hiding on Clare's shopping visit to Beanfreaks earlier in the week.

For lunch I cooked a veggie favourite dish with butter beans. Although I slept quite well, I slept for more than an hour after we'd eaten, and then went out for a walk to Thompson's Park. From the photos I took of the moorhen family, I see a clear difference between the tree chicks. The larger pair, when not out foraging for themselves, stand on one leg by the nest on the edge of the pond accompanied by the larger adult male. Google tells me wading birds do this to conserve body heat when inactive, tucking the other one into their downy feathers. The length of waders' legs makes them a source of significant body heat loss apparently. 

The third chick is smaller than the other and spends more time swimming, following the female around and taking titbits of food from her beak. I wonder if at a certain stage of development segregation of the sexes occurs so that differently gendered offspring can learn different behaviours from their parents? The past few weeks of regularly observing this family have been been interesting. After a few laps of the park, I walked over to Llandaff Fields to complete my daily step quota before going home for tea and cake.

After supper, time to file away many months backlog of mailed as opposed to digital financial statements, and collect documents into one physical folder ready for doing my annual tax return. A tiresome and tiring job. So much small print and serial numbers to read. It took me an hour to deal with. The only document in print I didn't have was my CofE pension P60 statement. A quick check of my emails revealed a recent notification of the posting of this to my on-line pension account, set up some years ago when the system was introduced. From logging in to to downloading the relevant pdf file took a few minutes. The website is clear, simple and easy to navigate presuming you're digitally literate. But that's enough paperwork for tonight. So I end the day reading in Spanish for an hour and a half before bed.

New sandals

Another of those disappointing days, waking up to sunshine, then the west wind pushing a layer of cloud to cover the sky. There were ten of us at the St Catherine's Eucharist, and we had scones with out coffee afterwards, left over from the 125th anniversary celebration on Sunday, with jam and cream for those who fancied it. I bought courgettes from the churchyard garden, and a pot of blackcurrant jam, made by Hilary last weekend on a visit to St Davids, where she found blackcurrant bushes in a neighbour's garden laden with unpicked fruit. 

I've just started the only other jar of blackcurrant jam made by Hilary with fruit from the churchyard garden. Our bush bore hardly any fruit this year, sadly. Blackcurrant jam is for me a taste of childhood, as they flourished in our home's back garden. Apart from Mum's juicy black current pies, the other favourites were sticky sweet blackcurrant jam tarts and steamed suet pudding with embedded fruit. Summer wouldn't be the same without the lingering flavour of blackcurrants in the mouth.

I bought the week's food bank offering in Tesco's and dropped it off at St John's on the way to Chapter Arts for this week's veggie bag. While Clare was cooking lunch, I uploaded the photos taken last night to one of my Google photos accounts for inspection. I wasn't surprised at a disappointing result all round. If hadn't been just before bed time I'd have set up each camera manually and used them with a tripod. Seizing the moment turned out to be a waste of time.

I went into town again after lunch in search of a pair of replacement sandals. At the end of supper isn't the best time to be looking, as they're only rarely on display. I got lucky however, in A J Meeks, where there were several pairs on offer at half price in their end of season sale. It was gone five when I got home, and I read my latest Zafon novel for a while before supper and after. Then I watched the last two episodes of six part mini-series 'Renaissance' or 'Revival' in English.

It turned out to be more than a story about heart transplantation. It's also a murder mystery tale with many twists and turns in it, and it's also about two children adopted as infants, born to young mothers who have to give up their children. Both adoptees are on a quest to know more about themselves and the full story of their origins. One of these is the murder victim in her twenties. Coincidentally the recipient of her heart is the adoptive white mother of a black child. Granny is racist, triggering an identity crisis for a feisty fifteen year old. In getting to the truth, both families' destinies are intertwined. Where there's so much love there's also much pain, before the 'happy ever after' mood music plays in the final minutes. It's well crafted and a good watch.

New trainers

It was cloudy and had been raining when I got up this morning, but a cold breeze blew the cloud away mid morning leaving a clear blue sky with sunshine for the rest of the day. It was 18C, but felt colder when the wind blew. Clare went out to her study group after breakfast, and I spent the rest of the morning recording and editing next week's Morning Prayer making a video slide show and uploading the finished product to YouTube. I got the lot done in two and a half hours, which pleased me. Then I cooked mackerel with veg in time for Clare's return.

After eating, I went to Thompson's Park to check on the Moorhens and then took the 61 bus into town to look for a new pair of trainers for my daily walks when the weather isn't warm enough for sandals. In the past week the right heel on the 'vegan sandals' I bought in early April has started to break up and is giving me unpleasant ankle pains. Apart from this their cushioned soles are comfortable, so much so that I have worn them daily for the past six months, and in that time covered eight hundred and fifty miles if my sums are fairly correct, and wearing them 12-15 hours a day so the deterioration is largely due to wear and tear. I can't complain, except about my own laziness in continuing to wear the same sandals day in day out even if it has what I have done habitually for decades in the summer.

After much vacillation, I bought a pair of walking trainers in Sketchers, rather than sandals. I need another pair, as the weather is still warmish, but that will have to wait until another day. I came home on the bus, had a piece of cake and a coffee, then broke in my new trainers with an hour's walk in the park, getting back in time for supper. My existing walking trainers are still in fairly good condition. I've not worn them nearly so much, as they were a bit tight for me. I now need a size nine rather than eight or eight and a half, as my feet have spread. Fortunately the old ones are washable, so once they've been through the washing machine and dried out, I take them for recycling to the used garments and shoes repository in the Canton Co-op car park.

After supper I read my new novel for an hour, then watched some more of 'Renaissance' until it was time to turn in for the night. I noticed the moon that was full yesterday had just appeared above the roof line in a clear sky. I took photos with four of my five cameras on automatic 'night shot' settings just to see which gave the best results. I didn't have time to set any of them up manually, so I'll find out if it was worth bothering tomorrow.

Renaissances

Another dull overcast day. Clare had a GP appointment after breakfast so I did all of the routine Monday housework, and cooked a prawn pasta dish for lunch. Good news from the doctor. Clare's CT brain scan showed no anomalies, nothing to cause concern. As ever tests will continue to see if there's something else contributing to memory loss.

After we'd eaten, I prepared next week's Morning Prayer and reflection texts for the commemoration of the beheading of John the Baptist. Coincidentally, it's the same set of readings as two years ago,  in which the murder of James the Apostle by a different Herod was recounted. I looked up the reflection I wrote at that time, revised and added to it. There are three different murderous Herods in the New Testament. How confusing! I thought it would be a good opportunity to explain this. A few odd facts here for a pub quiz.

Then I went to Tesco's for some smoked fish and a chorizo. Rain was forecast, but only a few drops well spaced fell while I was out. I stopped at while at home to have a drink, and when I started walking again it started to drizzle and did so on and off until I returned in time for The Archers and supper.

Looking for something to watch afterwards, I found an unusual French drama series on Channel 4 Walter Presents called 'Renaissances'. It's about what led up to a heart transplant for the donor and recipient, the aftermath and people involved directly and indirectly. It has all the elements of a detective mystery story in the setting of a domestic drama against the scenic backdrop of Biarritz, ticking a lot of cinematic boxes in one go. Interesting and original I think.

It was good to hear today of the Prime Minister Sir Keir Starmer's visit to Wales and his meeting with First Minister Eluned Morgan, celebrating a new beginning in the relationship between Wales and Westminster, characterised during the years of Tory Government by an adversarial attitude resembling what prevailed for the Dominions under British colonialism. There are serious economic and social problems in need of solutions that are best tackled in a partnership of respect and trust. Another renaissance to my mind.

Grangetown Parish revisited

A cloudy day with breaks of sunshine. The first thing I did when I got up was print off my sermon and pack my back for the drive to Grangetown to celebrate Mass at St Paul's, and went there after breakfast. It was disappointing to learn that no progress has been made on turning the church's gutted nave into much needed homes. Apparently the developers ran out of funding to support the project. Neither apartments nor the promised new church worship space in the former chancel and sanctuary have been built. Hopefully in the course of this new government something can happen to revive parishioners' hopes. At present worship continues to take place in the east end of the refurbished parish hall. There were twenty of us today.

The worship space has been kitted out with its own kit, plus internet for live streaming services. There are large screens at front and back on which hymns and liturgical texts are displayed, and a large table for the celebrant to us on lectern and altar, and it all worked well. The last time I had to celebrate Mass without any books was when I was in Estepona the summer before last. The technology is reliable enough these days, but I still don't like doing things this was as I don't feel fully in control of proceedings or content. South Cardiff Ministry Area uses liturgical some texts from the Roman rite whose new translations from the original Latin leave a lot to be desired for lovers of current English usage. It seems to be such a source of dissatisfaction among the faithful that another revision is in the course of being prepared.

The only problem for me was that I'd not checked Fr Dean's email properly and had prepared a sermon on readings for the 12th Sunday after Trinity, when the parish was observing the feast of the Assumption, transferred from Thursday last, so I had to improvise a from a different set of readings on the spur of the moment. It's just as well that I'd done a reflection around the theme of the death and life of blessed Mary for my Thursday Morning Prayer this week. If I'd thought quickly enough I could have used that reflection, as a basis for preaching, as I could access it from my phone, but didn't. As the Mass was live streamed on Facebook, I hope what I said made sense.

I was home before Clare, as St Catherine's had a cake eating extravaganza over coffee after the service in honour of the 125th anniversary of the consecration of the church. Andrew Sims, a leading lay person at St John's preached, and was met with approval by Clare. He's a candidate for ordination selection now I believe. After lunch, I slept in the chair for an hour, then went to Thompson's Park to photograph the moorhens before going for a walk with Clare in Llandaff Fields.

After supper, I spend the evening with my new Spanish novel before turning in for the night. 

A community planting a forest

It was sunny when I woke up, but soon clouded over. 'Thought for the Day' was by my old friend Baptist Minister Roy Jenkins, insightful about the way communities of really poor people can be places full of hope persisting against the odds, challenging and inspirational. I was thinking about the desperation of the people of Gaza, 40,000 people have been killed there in the past ten months and ceasefire talks are still deadlocked. Has that hope Roy talked of been quenched there? Or will it emerge again when the fighting finally ends.

When I got up, some time later, Clare was cooking pancakes with stewed apricots as a filling. Delicious! After breakfast I read an article from 'Sur in English' about an initiative to transform a large area of 'brownfield' land which once hosted a filling station storage and tanker depot into an urban forest. Bosque Urban Malaga or BUM for short. Community volunteers are planting a variety of  native trees and regularly watering them by hand with water from an artesian well belonging to a local activist. The project, with scores of volunteers has been running for six years. When mature, the forest promises to provide a huge shady green space, cooler by 6C, for a barrio of tower blocks paved with concrete.  Until trees are big enough to send roots into the subsoil aquifer, they'll need watering, but will be self sustaining in the long run. A visit to Google Street view gives an idea of the size of the BUM, alongside the Avenida John XXII. A creative expression of hope for the city's future from its citizens.

I spent the most of the morning working on tomorrow's sermon, while Clare cooked lentils for lunch. Afterwards, I went for a long walk, first to Tesco and then in Llandaff Fields after a break for tea. In the evening I finished the final chapters of 'Marina', a mix of the melodramatic and the sad. A complex story but overall memorable, for its relationships and the dark undercurrent of a theme about a man who tries to play God a bit like Frankenstein but becomes a monster himself controlling a horde of vengeful monsters. Then I started 'El Palacio de Medianoche, another of Carlos Ruiz Zafon's early novels written for teenagers and read until it was time for bed.

MOT'd

A pleasantly warm sunny day for driving over to Splott after breakfast to take the car to N G Motors for its MOT test. I walked back to Newport Road, took a bus to Greyfriars Road and walked from there to the bus stop outside Holiday Inn, to catch a 62 to Llandaff Fields, a journey of about fifty minutes. I've agreed to celebrate this Sunday's Parish Eucharist at St Paul's Grangetown, so I now have a sermon to prepare in just a few days. Last Sunday was priest in charge Fr Edward's farewell service before moving to North Cardiff. It's a coincidence that when Fr David their last cleric left I was the first locum priest to minister to the congregation in the vacancy. I wonder if anyone in the congregation will remember?

Clare and Owain went out for a walk to Bute Park for coffee and a snack. I stayed behind, thinking about that sermon, intending to join them, but I didn't get around to it, and ate on my own. After they returned Owain and I set off town, walking and by bus. We parted company outside John Lewis, where Owain went to buy a new keyboard and mouse to go with his new work laptop, which wouldn't work with the bluetooth Apple Mac keyboard he used with the previous laptop. Hopefully, work will pay for this.

I went around to the John Lewis entrance on the other side of the building where there's a Newport Road bus stop. A 49 bus arrived, I joined the passengers and go on. Then we were told the (new electric) bus couldn't start as the brake pedal spring had broken, so it couldn't be safely driven. We all got off to wait, and fortunately within a few minutes another Newport Road bus arrived which took me to the nearest stop for the walking round across Adamsdown, over the railway bridge and into Splott. I arrived at the garage just as the garage was about to close. The car needed a replacement tyre, though its companion was hardly worn, suggesting I must have hit something to throw the wheel tracking out of alignment some time ago. 

Our annual mileage is now only 3,000 so rarely do we make long journeys. It's a useful convenience given the price of fuel. It costs about £1300 a year to run. We don't have to take depreciation of value into account. In a few years time we'll be obliged to scrap it anyway and by then I may no longer want to drive. So is it worthwhile? Probably yes if you take into account the cost of the taxis when needed, long distance train and bus journeys maybe car hire. The alternatives require cost time and effort to arrange and book. 

I was back home by half past four. My parking space outside the house had not been taken by someone else, which was a relief. Clare cooked supper. Roast veggies, fish for her chicken for me, apple crumble to follow. I spent time before and after supper reading Zafon's 'Marina'. As I was so preoccupied by my phone screen breakage, I forgot to mention on Monday that two more of his novels arrived in the post, ordered by Kath as belated Christmas and birthday presents. Some good things are worth waiting for.

A new Swedish thriller started on Walter Presents in the prime time slot, called 'Hostage'. It's about a sophisticated electronic hijacking of a transatlantic flight. A bit slow, with lots of flashbacks, but quite an interesting theme. Then bed.

Oversight

I woke up on time to post today's Morning Prayer YouTube link to WhatsApp just before 'Thought for the Day'. Overcast again and cooler, just 18C. Masses of cold air from melting sea ice in the Arctic combined with the southward shift of warmer ocean currents that usually give the British Isles good summer weather are now making southern Europe's summers even hotter, prone to drought and wildfires, while ours is cold and damp. 

Just a few days ago northern suburbs of Athens were threatened with wildfires on a 20 km front, requiring emergency fire fighting expert teams from other countries to join Greece's firefighters to bring forest fires under control. After several days of intensive effort they succeeded, high temperatures and random gusts of wind still threaten further outbreaks however. Wild fires on the coast of the island of Evia three years ago killed three people and drove holidaymakers to take refuge in the sea. 

Last year Greece had eighty wildfires, with 28 people killed. Higher than average temperatures of 40C are a consequence of climate change, and similar environmental catastrophes are happening around the world. The deforestation of the terrain makes it more susceptible to flooding and mudslides when torrential rain arrives, and these are now much heavier than before, for the same reason. The world is already at a tipping point that could have been avoided if action on climate change had not increased at a faster rate earlier. More urgent action earlier would of course have had widespread economic consequences, a reduction in standards of living and quality of life maybe. This is likely to happen anyway now as the cost of recovery from each new environmental catastrophe increased. What a mess human greed and over exploitation of nature has caused. 

I went to Thompsons Park to check out the moorhens. The three chicks are out in open water exploring the pond. One of them I caught on camera has lost a patch of its black fluff and feathers growing underneath are just visible. The larger male bird sat on the floating nest for a while, and I've seen chicks climb on and inspect it. It's unlikely there are any eggs to hatch at the moment, but the female bird calls out persistently. At the end of July I photographed the male bird on the nest spreading its tail feathers, characteristic male mating display ritual apparently. Maybe she's ready to lay another clutch of eggs now.

Our car tax renewal form arrived a few days ago. It's only just dawned on me that this means our MOT is due. I rang N G Motors and fortunately the car can be fitted in for a test tomorrow. It's running fine. We do very little mileage these days, so hopefully it will pass. We have a fortnight before the tax bill needs to be paid. Hoepfully if anything does need to be remedied, it won't take that long.

We had a snack lunch so we can eat supper together this evening with Owain. Later in the afternoon I went out for a walk. When I reached the river, it started to drizzle. I didn't check the forecast, so left without a rain coat or brolly. The forecast when I checked said it would rain for over an hour. I walked across Pontcanna Field to the campsite and took refuge with a coffee in the site cafe until it closed at six, stood outdoors under the cafe gazebo until it slowed to a light drizzle then headed for home slightly damp. Owain arrived at half past seven. After eating we spent the rest of the evening chatting and drinking Manel's gift of a Swiss Pinot Noir with pleasure.

Welsh pride in RCT

Another damp and cloudy day. After breakfast I walked under my brolly to the Eucharist at St Catherine's. We were nine at the service, anticipating tomorrow's Feast of the Death Blessed Virgin Mary. After coffee and a chat, I went to collect this week's veggie bag from Chapter Arts. On the way I called into the phone shop on the corner of Severn Road to get a diagnosis of its condition. A replacement screen will solve the problem after all I was told, so I left it with their expert repairer, the same guy who replaced the screen eighteen months ago, and replaced the screen on a Samsung phone I had several years ago. I didn't mind the fact that it would take until the end of the day for the job to be done. Six hours off line. A mini holiday.

Then I went to Tesco's to buy food bank groceries and took them to St John's, open Wednesdays midday for the Eucharist instead of Thursday now. The service was half way through, so I slipped in, deposited my offering in the collection basket and left pleased to see that congregation numbers are undiminished by the change of day. By the time I got home Clare had lunch ready. Tofu burgers today.

I started making next week's Morning Prayer video slideshow after lunch, but didn't record the audio until later, as I needed to go out and collect my phone. It wasn't ready when I arrived, as the repair guy was waiting for a screen he ordered to arrive. The Moto screen 6.5" specification is slightly different from the more common Samsung one it seems. I went home and carried on with recording and editing audio to fit with the slide show I prepared earlier. I collected my repaired phone just after six, and was only charged £65 for the job, the same as I paid 18 months ago, would you believe it?

After supper, an impressive and diverse programme on S4C reviewing the activities of the week at the Eisteddfod in Pontypridd. Such a rich diverse celebration of Welsh culture and creative arts. The first ever female Archdruid, Meredydd Hopwood, made a big impression inhabiting the role with creative confidence, tweaking traditional ritual formalities in the way that won approval. Several literary prize winners turned out to be Rhondda Cynon Taff locals, one of them the youngest chief bard in the history of the Eisteddfod. 

It's a traditional all age festival in every sense. What's amazing is the high proportion of young people attending as well as participating. Thanks to fifty years of developing Welsh language education and schooling, Welsh language pop music culture has a big enthusiastic following and the future of the language in everyday use more secure than it has been in more than a century of rural depopulation and decline. Something to be proud of. We may well see that decline reversed with so many Welsh speakers now living in urban areas.

 

Inertia

A good night's sleep, a mild and cloudy day and a morning of inertia for me in which I did very little apart from looking up the Mass readings for a week Sunday to start thinking about a sermon. We had a brief visit from gas engineer Matt to look at bathroom and shower radiators which are in need of replacement for more efficient ones. He'll send us a quote in a few days time.

I cooked for myself a pork chop lunch, and for Clare a veggie burger. Afterwards, I fell asleep in the chair for over an hour although I wasn't tired. Having resolved to see if it would be possible to repair my phone, I failed to follow this up with a visit to a local repair shop. 

I went to Tesco's to check out the stock of Moto and found only models less powerful than the one I have. I started to walk there but had to turn back for a raincoat and brolly as it started to drizzle when I got to the park. I hadn't thought to check the weather before setting out. As long as the phone is usable with its oddly coloured screen, there's no urgency to go to Curry's the other side of town to buy one. It might be sensible to go there anyway and check what they do have in stock. It may be necessary to buy on line if the website mis-represents what they have in store.

I had supper on my own, as Clare went to her meditation group, then began to get some sermon ideas, so I did a little research and wrote a first draft. Then the eleventh and final episode of McDonald and Dobbs. Will there be any more I wonder?

Huge yet limited choice on offer

When I woke up this morning, the sun was shining and the sky apparently blue. Out of the blue however, came a five minute torrent of rain. The noise was so loud that at first I thought was the sound of a bath full of water emptying down our's or a neighbour's drainpipe. It seemed to be very localised. Clouds returned and covered the sky a few hours later. 

After breakfast, the usual housework chores. A spam text message arrived on my phone, and as I looked at it, the screen became unstable again, and I couldn't remedy it. I found that there was a minute crack in the top of the case, next to the camera housing, though the camera still works. I still have my ten year old Z10 Blackberry as an emergency standby, but it no longer receives security updates, so using it would be risky. There's no alternative but to buy a new one. Thankfully, I can afford it, as I've not spent much recently.

I cooked lunch and went into town after to hunt for a new phone. I went to John Lewis' where I know Motorola phones are on offer, but they didn't have one of desirable specification in my price range. One by one I visited half a dozen phone shops with the same result, that is, if they carried the brand at all. Apple and Samsung models dominate. There's a range of low cost Moto models but almost no mid range ones. In the end I gave up and returned home. On my way home, I called at the GP surgery to book an appointment for my annual hypertension review.

After supper, half an hour's walk in the park. A strong breeze had blown the cloud away and the evening was bright and sunny. Then I settled down to watch another complex episode of McDonald and Dobbs to end an inconclusive day. 

For the moment I can still use my broken phone. The screen display has changed during the day. It's still unstable, but less difficult read now than it was earlier. Maybe a new screen would suffice? Perhaps I should check that out first. I'll sleep on it. If it's un-repairable, I can go to the big Tesco's to check what's available, but I suspect the same will be true there as the stores in town. I may end up going to one of the Curry's superstores. Their website offers a broader range of Moto models including one I'm interested in. 

Phone woes

Hot and sunny today 27C, after a good night's sleep. An email from Fr Jarel arrived asking if I'd stand in for him at the Parish Eucharist the Sunday after next, which I gladly accepted. I went with Clare to the Eucharist at St Catherine's. We were thirty today, just one family with children above Sunday school age. Fr Sion said he'd spotted me on the Maes at the Eisteddfod on Friday, his day off. 

A Sikh family came into church just before the service, wishing to speak to the Vicar but they had to return afterwards. I learned from one of the stewards that they were asylum seekers from Afghanistan, and I think they have moved into a house opposite the church gates. Sikhism originated in the north Indian region of Punjab, in the sixteenth century, a significant minority in neighbouring Pakistan and in the old North West Frontier region, home to Afghan tribes. It became an independent state in 1926 after two years of war with Britain's colonial forces 1919-21. 

In the 1970s there were 700,000 Sikhs in Afghanistan, but the population dwindled to 220,000 by 1992, 400 at the beginning of 2021 and 150 by the end of the year, such has been the pressure exerted by Islamist militants throughout the country. Sikhs have never had it easy in predominantly Muslim regions, not least because of their respect for the sacred teachings of other religions - Hindu, Muslim and Christian. There are more than 10,000 in the UK, and were among the first migrant communities to establish themselves in Britain in the twentieth century as so many had served in the allied forces during the war. Like the Jewish community, Sikhs value their distinct identity and education, significantly in law, finance, science and commerce. Many are farmers in the Indian sub-continent. Afghanistan is so much the worse for having driven out its Sikh population. It's the same old lesson, exclusive fanaticism impoverishes, but inclusive diversity enriches.

After lunch I slept for an hour in the chair, then walked to Thompsons Park to photograph the Moorhens. I couldn't be sure but I think there's a now a second brood of chicks there. They look smaller than those I took pictures of last week, swimming around but not venturing into the mud of the surrounding reed bed to forage. It was hotter than I anticipated when I left the house, so I returned all sweaty and changed shirt and jacket for a light tee shirt, then walked around Llandaff Fields, taking photos of a cricket practice.

When I got home, I dropped my phone. It landed flat, but instead of the impact cracking the screen, as happened when I dropped it in Fuengirola, calling for a replacement, this time the display has patterns of fine vertical stripes running through it. Text display was readable initially but photographic images were impaired, making it impossible to edit. When I took it from its case, the screen display became completely unstable and unreadable. I pressed around the edge of the screen, and to my surprise it became clear and stable again. A loose connection tightened again by chance? I put it back in its case, but then the display broke down once more, then stabilised when I applied pressure to the frame. Maybe the metal chassis of the phone is slightly distorted.

It might might be possible to fix it, so that it doesn't break the next time I drop it, but given that it would cost half the price of a new one, but would it be worthwhile. I bought it in November '22, when it had been on the market for half a year already. It's got slower since the last Android update. I'll stick with it for now while it still works, and live with it rather than make haste to replace it with one that's less vulnerable.

After supper, Clare went to Chapter Arts Centre as there's a free Jazz gig tonight. I worked my way through the corrections she made to the first 115 of 203 pages of the  printed novel. This took me the rest of the evening, right up to bed time. It's the night when the Perseid meteor shower is in full spate, with a hundred sightings an hour anticipated, but I felt too tired to stay up and watch, especially as the sky was hazy and urban light pollution reduces the chance of seeing much anyway. But I still remember sitting out under a clear sky in the darkness of rural Picardy meteor watching on a camping holiday trip south, half a century ago, still awesomely vivid in my memory. 'How many are your works O Lord: in wisdom you have made them all.'

Tired Saturday

After some morning showers the cloud cleared and it remained warm and sunny the rest of the day. Both of us were still pretty tired and got up late. I spent the morning writing about our Eisteddfod visit. Clare cooked lunch. 

After we'd eaten I did some advance preparation for the next but one reflection I have to write about a miraculous passage in Acts I find difficult. It tells of the Apostle Peter raising the dead. Throughout the day I wrestled with this and was able to write something simple and the right length in the evening. 

Meanwhile I went for long afternoon walk along the Taff, wishing I'd taken a container with me, as there are still plenty of ripe unpicked blackberries. The SWALEC stadium was at least half full of spectators for a 100 ball cricket match. With all its noisy razzmatazz, it's surprisingly popular form of the game.

After supper, another episode of 'McDonald and Dodds' with a fiendishly complex lot in which the sleuths become the target of a murderous psychopath who seems to anticipate their every move. Then bed.

Pontypridd welcomes National Esteddfod

Another cloudy start to the day, with the promise of showers. We decided this would be our day to visit the National Eisteddfod taking place in Ynysangharad Park Pontypridd. Mid-morning we took a 62 bus from Llandaff Fields to the bus station to catch the train. Much to our surprise Elizabeth, Manel and a friend were on the bus on the first stage of their different return journeys to Geneva. Elizabeth told us she would make the journey by coach rather than 'plane, and enjoy several leisurely days of travel across France. I'd love to do something like that, but don't know if I have the stamina nowadays. The bus was packed with people, perhaps because one had dropped out of schedule, but possibly because many were heading for the Eisteddfod like us.

When we arrived in Central Square we found it contained lines of crowd control barriers, obliging bus passengers to take one prescribed route to the station entrance. The area was already busy with people arriving for a Billy Joel concert in the stadium this evening, with road closures and bus diversions later in the day. We parted company with our friends chaotically as they sought to navigate their ways to different platforms in the face of passengers exiting the stations. After buying our tickets separately, Clare and I made our way to platform six for trains for the Taff and Cynon valleys to Aberdare and Merthyr Tydful. I saw a smart new Metro styled train and headed for it, assuming Clare was doing likewise as I lost sight of her in the crowd.

No sooner had the train started than she called me and asked where are you. I said the same to her. She was still on the platform waiting for the next train to arrive, and wouldn't believe that I was on a train going to Pontypridd. I was standing next to the train guard at the time and asked him to speak to Clare and convince her I was not going in the wrong direction! The train I'd got on was six minutes late departing. It also went in a different direction to the one Clare was waiting for. To keep it simple, the gateway station to the Taff and Cynon valleys is Radyr, at the north western edge of the city, and you can get there by trains going clockwise or anti-clockwise around the city network. 

Train timetable display boards show the final destination but don't always indicate interim stations. This is potentially confusing for visitors unfamiliar with the local train map. It's not as confusing as the London Underground, but the potential for confusion is there, especially with bi-lingual place names. Public address announcements add to the confusion by giving interim stations, bilingually too. In fact, the train Clare caught ten minutes later as destined for Merthyr Tydful, also stopping at Pontypridd. As hers was on time, I only had to wait five minutes for Clare to catch me up. I try to recall how Switzerland's multi-lingual rail network conveys information, and whether or not it's as confusing.

The entrance to Ynysangharad Park is only ten minutes walk from the train station. An effective one way system to manage crowds of arriving and departing travellers was in place. There was a slow queue to buy day tickets for those who hadn't purchased on line, including us. Cash payments were not accepted, only cards. Managing physical money is expensive nowadays and less than secure. Financial security is individualised, and this doesn't work for those who don't own a debit card for forgot to bring one, mostly the poorest of the poor, who have no choice.

Anyway, just after eleven thirty we were admitted to a crowded Eisteddfod 'Maes' and wandered around trying to understand the layout. The main 'Pafilion' with seating for 1,800 and the main competition stage we found at the far end of the site, adjacent to the A470 bypass road. The constant background rumble of traffic wasn't the best possible environment, but the sound system delivered well. 

Close by, an area with food stalls and places to sit, with an enclosure of scores of toilets next to it. We shared a box of fish and chips for lunch. Welsh Water not only provided a free public 'hydration station' but gave away water bottles to those who hadn't bought their own. Including us. The largest open area had several streets of booths showcasing every aspect of Welsh public services and creative culture imaginable, hundreds of them, with the Universities and broadcast media prominent. A huge open air stage hosted a male voice choir, a youth orchestra and a rock band at times when we were passing. There's a children's play area with the bonus of the park's unique open air swimming pool, very busy with children and adults.

Ponty Lido - wryly branded as being on the Taff riviera - opened in 1927, paid for by the Miners' Welfare Fund. It became less used and run-down, closing in 1991. Thanks to Heritage Lottery funding it re-opened in 2015, after a thorough restoration. It's a wonderful Art Deco period piece, and its modern publicity pays homage to that era of design.

We spent an hour after lunch in the 'Pafilion' listening to a competition of soprano soloists, and then one of Cerdd Dant  female singing groups - beautifully harmonised trio and quartet renderings of improvised  poetic lyrics accompanied by a harpist. It's one of the unique features of Welsh bardic tradition, and one of the highlights of the Eisteddfod. We came out for a breath of fresh air, but didn't return for the Chairing of the Bard ceremony, as a very long queue had built up outside. 

We wandered around the site for a while, but began to run out of energy, so we decided to head for home. On the way out a live comic performance was taking place on the path. Three women in period piece swimming costumes cavorted around a kids' paddling pool to popular band music from the mid 20th century. 

A humorous celebration of Ponty Lido's renaissance, and very timely too. Open-air swimming and the demise of many British public lidos has become an issue due to sewage pollution turning wild swimming into a health risk. 

The train on which we returned was an old-fashioned diesel rail car refurnished for its final spell of service before giving away to the new generation of electric Metro trains. This took us on the route from Radyr which goes to Cathays and  Queen Street station before end at Cardiff Central, the route taken by Clare's train this morning. 

I wish we'd got off at Queen Street. Cardiff Central was crowded with arriving fans. The ticket gates were open to reduce congestion. I walked through and tossed my ticket into a bin as I passed, before realising travellers were being herded in queues along lanes to have them inspected 50m outside the station. No written notice or announcement was made at the ticket barrier to inform ticket holders to hang on to them for inspection outside. Many had digital tickets on their phones. We were caught in an event we weren't part of. It was presumed all travellers had previous experience of these arrangements. A remedy for confusion. I told the ticket inspector what I had done and complained about this, and was released without further consequence.

The bus station was closed, as was Westgate Street to all traffic. We crossed the river and took a 17 bus to Canton Cross and bought a few things from Tesco's before returning home. I cooked veg and pasta with chorizo for supper, then settled down for another episode of 'McDonald and Hobbs' to conclude a taxing day.

Grim thoughts

Cool and cloudy with a few showers. I woke up on time to post today's Morning Prayer link to YouTube then dozed for an hour before getting up to make breakfast. On 'Thought for the Day' Angela Tilby spoke about being in Hiroshima forty years ago on the Feast of the Transfiguration, our wedding anniversary, for the annual ceremony of commemoration for the victims of the first nuclear bomb on the city. With nothing urgent needing my attention I whiled away the morning pondering.

Tilby observed how the dark threat of nuclear holocaust had receded from public consciousness in recent decades, though the world was as unstable and plagued with conflict now as it was back then. Putin has mentioned the threat of nuclear arms being used if he doesn't get his way over Ukraine. Nuclear weapon launch rehearsals are said to be taking place, and there are now several more nations which have their own. China, India, Pakistan, Israel. Iran is said to have the capability to build its own nuclear bomb and deliver it within a few years at their current rate of programme development. 

Women camped in protest outside Greenham Common air base in eighties and nineties against the deployment of American tactical nuclear weapons at the base. The Campaign for Nuclear Disarmament still exists and holds commemorative events. There was even one at the National Eisteddfod in Pontypridd this week, but these get little attention in the round of news preoccupied with civil disorder from anti-immigration mobs rioting in cities around the country. 

Britain's conventional defence forces are now smaller, less well equipped than they were forty years ago. The nuclear deterrent is still there as a last resort, but if it were used, the environmental catastrophe added to global warming could see an end to us all, sooner than later. With growing tension internationally, the risk of escalation and accident rises. Population shift and migration crisis are driven both by war and environmental degradation impoverishing people in underdeveloped countries of the South. Nothing we do at present will stem this tide of human need. I wonder if we're fully aware of how dangerous are the times we live in, globally? As long as human beings strive to compete for power and wealth, rather than co-operate and share resources equally, the complex web of problems facing the world entraps us. How to break out of it? How to turn problems into opportunities? That is the question in search of answers.

Clare went shopping in town, and I cooked rice and veg with prawns for lunch, which was ready just as she came through the door, more by luck than judgement as I started cooking late. Mid afternoon I made my way to the Cathedral by a longer route, through the park to arrive in time for HTC choir rehearsal, before their final Choral Evensong again with superbly performed modern music much of which I didn't know and a Bach prelude and fugue from organist Keith Dale to conclude. I took my leave of Keith and the few friends I still have in the choir then got wet walking home as earlier drizzle turned into persistent light rain.

After supper I read a chapter of 'Marina' and half an episode of another McDonald and Hobbs, followed by a walk in the dark around the block to get some fresh night air in my lungs before bed. 

Another HTC Evensong

Rain overnight and intermittent showers all morning. I got wet walking to St Catherine's for the Eucharist. There were eight of us today. Fr Siôn looks refreshed and tanned after his holiday in the USA. He arrived by bike, and departed in time to go to St John's for another Eucharist at midday.  I'm not sure if he got wet riding there. I look forward to hearing how many Thursday regulars made it at a different day and time.

As I arrived at Chapter Arts to collect this week's veggie bag, I noticed that the fig tree outside the main entrance was laden with fruit of varying size. I helped myself to a large one that felt slightly soft to bring home with me. I don't know why I hadn't noticed it before and wonder how many others realise it bears fruit all year round. The warmth and extra rain this summer has benefited the tree and may well have made it more productive than usual.

Clare marinaded a block of tofu, and I cooked a ratatouille using yellow courgettes from the church garden with quinoa for a rather tasty lunch. Then I made the audio for next Thursday's Morning Prayer and inserted into it a Gregorian Marian antiphon and Taizé Magnificat round in honour of the feast of the Assumption. It's the first time for me to do this, and I was pleased to find I could get the different sound levels reasonably close to each other.

Then I went early to the Catherdral to sit through the choir rehearsal before the service. They sang an exhilarating anthem by Herbert Sumsion based on a text from Psalm 107 about a storm at sea. It was superb. I went straight home after leaving them organising a group photo outside the west front.

After supper, I made the video slideshow of the recording made earlier and uploaded it to YouTube. Then 'McDonald and Hobbs' before going late to bed.

Catching up on HTC Geneva

Our fifty eighth wedding anniversary today. I went out before breakfast to catch the first mail collection of the day with the letter for Kath, then to Tesco's to buy some flowers for Clare. Grim news of more riots by far right extremists targeting refugee hostels in some English cities, and even one in Belfast. Already there are arrests of identified perpetrators and with speedy court appearances promised by the Prime Minister. As a former chief public prosecutor, he knows what's needed, and probably enjoys the good-will of former colleagues. 

Kamala Harris has chosen a Vice Presidential election running mate, Minnesota Governor Tim Walz. Her choice of a middle of the road Democrat liberal seems to be going down well with everyone apart from Trump who has lamely branded him as a dangerous radical. Both are enjoying the good-will of the party, and hopefully the country when it comes to the elections in November.

After breakfast I walked up to the Cathedral to meet Manel and bring her home for lunch. It must be six years since we last met. There was a lot of catching up to do, enquiries about our generation of HTC congregation members, talk about health, who's moved on and who's died. 

She left us at two thirty to return for a siesta, and we went up to the Cathedral for Evensong at five thirty. The choir sang well - a challenge in a building which is three times the size of their home church with a huge organ which is perhaps too loud, even in such a big building. As it's the Feast of the Transfiguration, the congregation numbered about twenty people, many coming to hear a choir they knew from having previously living or visiting Geneva.

After chatting for a while with people we know waiting to greet choristers outside the west door, we returned home for supper. There was a third page missing from my novel print-out which I had to remedy so Clare could continue reading.

I worked on next week's Morning Prayer for a while, then watched another McDonald and Hobbs episode. Unusually, each episode has a celebrity guest actor participating as villain. Rob Bryden in one, Sharon Rooney in another, Alan Davies and Siân Philips in the current. Well, it's different and gives comedians an opportunity to play credibly the sinister side. And so to be.

From Geneva to Llandaff

An overcast day with occasional appearances from the sun. Then housework, work on Morning Prayer for next Thursday, and cooking lunch. After a siesta, I walked up to Llandaff Cathedral and sat in the nave, waiting for the Holy Trinity Geneva choir to arrive for rehearsal remembering my days at worship there, and connecting their special visit to the one place of pilgrimage I have returned to throughout my life.

Eventually, Keith Dale, formerly organist and choirmaster at HTC same down from the organ loft and we greeted each other. He's special guest organist this week, enjoying his summer vacation from teaching in a Woodard school in his native Yorkshire. Then Sam Carmalt arrived, now one of the eldest members of the choir, and I spotted Elizabeth Brown settling into her choir stall but didn't get a chance to greet her. 

I didn't stay for the service but stayed to hear the choir rehearse the Evensong Psalm, then walked home to collect Clare and drive her to Llandough Hospital for a CT scan. We arrived half an hour early, but were seen immediately and on our way back by the time her appointment was due. We now wait to see what her GP has to say about the result.

I had a belated message from Kath about relieving me of some of my euros still not exchanged for sterling as I've not got around to doing it. It was a matter of slipping them into an envelope and making sure to get them in the post early tomorrow. After supper, I went out for another walk to Thompson's Park, then watched another episode of McDonald and Hobbs before going to bed.

Waula Day

Overcast with occasional sunny spells today. Yesterday was St German's Day in the Church in Wales, but in the CofE and the Roman Catholic Church he's celebrated on 31st July. Not that it matters much  these days when fewer weekday services and festivals are celebrated, and festivals are transferred to Sundays. I drove there for Mass, celebrated in style, starting with the Litany of the Saints, and procession with a relic of St German, whatever that may be. Pilgrimages to Auxerre Cathedral where he was buried still happen occasionally, but at some stage either during the Reformation or the Revolution, I can't remember which, the ancient shrine was desecrated and any traces mortal remains disposed of. 

What passes as a relic may be a piece of stone from that shrine, acquired as a pious souvenir at some time in the past. I don't recall in my years of association with the church, seeing the relic carried in procession before. To his credit Fr Jarel preached a thoughtful sermon referring to the value and purpose of relics. It doesn't appeal to me. A saint's legacy as far as I'm concerned is bound up with their life story and insights their teaching gives into the Gospels and Christ. It was good to see Basma in church again after a period of illness. She showed me with enthusiasm the residence permit card that makes it possible to live and work in Britain. She now has three weeks to move out of the accommodation provided by the Home Office into whatever place the City Council can provide by means of emergency shelter. The waiting list for proper social housing is long. The weeks ahead will be very uncertain for her indeed.

It was twenty past one by the time I got home even though city centre traffic was light and the journey just fifteen minutes. Clare had made lunch and started ahead of me. I had sent her a text message when I left, but forgotten to switch my phone out of aeroplane mode. 

I had a siesta after eating, then went for a walk to Thompson's Park to see if I could get better moorhen photos with my Sony Alpha 68.. I wasn't impressed with the result, I couldn't get the auto-focus to budge from foreground leaves to the chicks behind at the centre of the image. While the long zoom lens I use works well, a full extent, hand held shooting is not as sharp. It's a budget DSLR from eight years ago, without the image stabilisation software from more expensive models. It's better to carry a tripod for sharper long lens shots. I heard that parakeet squawking again from another stand of trees on the hill above the pond, and then saw two gulls harassing a third bird, driving it out of their territory, but I wasn't able to see its colour beneath a cloudy sky.

Then I went into Llandaff Fields where I was surprised to see in the top field an all age family gathering of about a hundred people playing a party game akin to musical chairs, instructed by a young lady with a microphone. An improvised sign attached to a nearby tree announced a 'Waula Day' event, Googling the word produced a puzzling array of bizarre answers. Only later did I discover that Waula is the name of a region in the Punjab. 

From the clothes people wore the gathering was clearly an Asian Muslim community celebration. Perhaps they were members of the Bilal mosque in Severn Road. The atmosphere was joyous, fun filled and well organised, with food and a couple of canopies for sun shelters. Not that they were needed. Given the evil outbreak of islamophobic attacks and public disorder generated by extreme right fanatics on social media in this past few days, it was an impressive show of confidence and courage to carry on with this event, and a measure, I hope and pray, of the good-will towards a long established Cardiff community of expat elders and the rising generations of Asian Brits who know no other home.

I try to imagine a similar social event organised in the Fields by a parish or group of churches, but have to admit that numbers and comparable spread of participants' ages would be be hard to muster. Sadly fewer urban churches have that measure of social cohesion, numbers or sense of local identity and longer.

After supper, I watched the remaining episodes of 'High Country', full of surprises and a little confusing, involving cannabis farming in remote forest and baby trafficking as well as related murders, but the scenic backdrop was enchanting.

A familiar squawk

Cooler and cloudy again this morning, though the sun shone through the clouds later on. I was none the worse for getting to bed late after last night's nose bleed, but could have slept better. We had our Saturday pancake breakfast, then I spent the morning editing photos taken in Barry yesterday. A short batch were taken with a setting accidentally selected to give a one second burst of images either side of the apparent moment of focus and shutter opening. These are saved as a tiny MP4, but you can select the sharpest of  several frames you want to keep if there's a noticeable difference between them, as when a subject moves in a fraction of a second. I'm glad to have worked out finally how this feature functions, although it's not something I'd count on using. For me there's an element of randomness in any pictures taken, I get lucky sharp shots, and unlucky blurred ones, and that's good enough for me.

Kath and Clare went to meet Emma and her mother Avril in Coffee #1 and I stayed behind, happy to cook my own meal in the middle of the day. I went to Thompsons Park while the girls sat in the garden enjoying the sun. As I arrived I heard a familiar squawk looked up and caught sight of a green ring necked parakeet. It's the first time I've seen one in Cardiff, although I've heard that squawk from a tree on the Taff footpath several times in this past year. It's familiar enough from the time I've spent on the Costa del Sol over the years, where they are found in large flocks in some coastal resorts.

The moorhen family was out foraging along the edge of the reed bed much closer to the pond boundary fence. Photos of the chicks look blurred initially, but their well developed legs are in sharp focus, the camera registers imperfectly the fine black down that covers their bodies, absorbing rather than reflecting light, as shiny feathers will later on. This makes it harder to spot them when they're in the shadows. It's excellent camouflage.

I went home for a cup of tea and a piece of cake, and said goodbye to Kath who left for Kenilworth at five. Then I went out again to finish my step quota for the day before supper. Then the rest of the evening, binge watching episodes of Australian crimmie 'High Country' set in the forested rural uplands of the State of Victoria. Wonderful scenery, complex story about identity and origins.

Tim's tree

Cloudy again today. A lazy morning, with a walk to Thompson's Park with Kath to inspect the tree planted near the pond in memory of her college friend Tim who died last year. He lived in a flat opposite the park and walked there every day. Then Kath went to RWCMD to meet old friend Mandy who works there in her lunch break. We met her there after lunch and drove to Barry Island to walk on the beach. We parked in an area behind the main beach next to what was once a tidal harbour. It choked with sand many decades ago and no longer contains boats. It's an expanse of tidal marine wetland, interesting in its own right. I'd like to spend more time exploring the area.

The sea front and fun fair were crowded with holiday makes, we walked the length of the beach, busy with young families and groups of teenagers, but there was room for more until the tide turned. A huge flock of big gulls wheeled around ominously in close proximity to picnickers, hoping to snatch something to eat. After a round of vegan chocolate ice creams carefully guarded in the beach, we headed home slowly in the rush hour traffic.

We went to Stefano's for supper and enjoyed an excellent meal, then spent the rest of the evening at home chatting and drinking wine. When I got up to start getting ready for bed, I was surprised by a nose bleed which went on for longer than usual, and stopped like turning a tap off only when I drank half a litre of water. The delicious spaghetti bolognese I had for supper was denser and more protein packed than I'd usually eat later in the day. As my digestion worked to absorb what I'd eaten, it lacked the extra water it needed and this pushed my blood pressure up. It would have helped if we'd walked a further after eating, as well. It started after sitting for a long while when I stood up. I really must make sure to eat far less if I'm obliged to dine out in the evening in future.

Change of arrangements

A little cooler today with clouds and sunshine. I woke up and posted today's YouTube Morning Prayer link to WhatsApp, listened to the news and then got up and made breakfast. A trip to Tesco's to buy food bank groceries before celebrating the Eucharist at St John's with seven others. Next week this service switches to midday on a Wednesday, straight after the St Catherine's service. I'm not sure how sustainable this is going to be for full time clergy or lay people attending. I see no reason to attend two services in tandem. My contact with St John's regulars will be fewer and further apart from now on. 

Clare cooked mushrooms and prawns with laver bread as a 'snack' for an early lunch, as we're having a big meal tonight when Kath arrives to spend a couple of days with us before she and Anto go to Sta Pola for a much deserved holiday. After we'd eaten I made the video slideshow for next Thursday's Morning Prayer and uploaded it to YouTube. 

Then I walked to Thompson's Park, and saw on the pond the moorhen family swimming together. Both adults and three chicks, neat and small versions of their parents, fully fledged. A perfect photo opportunity, although the photos weren't quite as clear and sharp as I hoped for. Better luck next time. I walked through Llandaff Fields and down to the Pontcanna Street Coop, to buy a bottle of wine for supper on my way back.

Kath arrived just after six thirty and we ate the fish pie Clare prepared. Then we settled down to chat, sharing thoughts about a family Christmas celebration together away from our homes, in a special holiday location big enough to accommodate 6-8. The New Year to come will be one in which both Clare and I have eightieth birthdays, so this could get us off to a good start.

Clare and Kath went to bed before me, so I read a few more chapters of 'Marina' before following them.