Surreal confirmation 45 years on

Another wonderful clear blue sky sunny day with gusts of chilly wind, but around  15-16 C like yesterday. I posted the YouTube link to today's Morning Prayer just before Thought for the Day, and got up to make breakfast. It took me an hour and a half to get to sleep last night, as I was so tense after my dramatic disorienting day in Derby. After breakfast, I re-visited Google Maps, not for an inquest, but to use street view to locate the snack bar van in Howden's car park Ascot Road Derby, and examine the image patiently from different angles to find the side of the van on which Sarah's kitchen displayed a mobile phone number. Then I was able to send her a thank you text message from her, and received a prompt appreciative response. 

Today's the 45th anniversary of the St Paul's riot. It's also the 45th anniversary of Amanda's confirmation, which was happening in St Agnes while police confronted rioters in streets nearby, so I sent her a message. "It was the most surreal experience I ever had." she replied, having stood after the service in her white dress with others at the top of Badminton Road watching the bank burn. Worse civil disorder has followed on occasions since then, days of rioting in disadvantaged areas of discontented Britain. So little has really changed since then.

I finished Bishop Rowan's fine book before taking it to St Catherine's to lend to Rachel as I expected to see her at the Eucharist with Seb. There were nine of us today. Seb is now crawling and sitting upright like a Buddha, full of playful smiles. Our little midweek congregation ranges in age from nine months to ninety one.

After a drink in the hall, I collected the veggie bag from Chapter, and found Clare cooking tofu burgers and roasting potatoes and root veg for lunch. Still feeling tired from yesterday's excursion, I tried to sleep in the chair but failed to doze off and eventually went walking instead. I spotted a cormorant and an egret, plus a pair of goosanders fishing in the same stretch of river. Maybe it's a spot where elvers are hatching at the moment. The egret opted out of the hunt and flew up to perch on a tree branch instead. I've not seen an egret perching above ground like that since my locum spell in Mojácar in 2017. I heard but couldn't see a green woodpecker in trees above the river's west bank. I saw at close range but couldn't take a photo of a blue tit, and watched a kingfisher speed upriver in a straight line just above the water. Best of all, a couple of photos of a speckled wood butterfly, one of several I spotted flitting about along the edge of the river. Altogether a very interesting walk today.

After the day's football matches, discarded bottles and cans scattered about, needing to be escorted to the nearest bin. I picked up half a dozen and there were more out of reach once both hands were full. I wrote until supper time, and again after supper. Before turning in for the night, I recorded next week's reflection on Boenhoffer's life and anti-nazi witness, linking it to the Passiontide theme of next week's Gospel.

Disoriented in Derby

The necessity of an early start got me in bed by eleven, but I lost an hour's sleep, waking up at six to a blue sky just before dawn. I walked to the station by seven and caught an 18 bus from Cowbridge Road to ease the effort and get me there with extra time to spare. The seven forty five train to Derby left punctually and arrived on time. Going north east, the sun was in my face throughout the journey but not unpleasantly so. The train wasn't full when we left, but filled up completely from Gloucester onwards with students and staff commuting to Birmingham University. Then it filled with another batch of commuters leaving Brum for stations up the line to its Nottingham destination. 

When I emerged from Derby station with the 20min walk to the Cathedral I had Google Maps open on my phone. I still can't work out what went wrong, but when I followed the instructions given it took me in the opposite direction. It gave me names of streets but on half of them no street name signs were visible. A townscape of industrial warehouses and five storey buildings on flat terrain made it impossible to see the Cathedral's 200 foot early sixteenth century tower on a 30 foot rise above the level of the river, at any time while I walked for half an hour. I thought I was following the prompt on the map, but evidently not, despite checking several times as I walked. 

When Google told me eventually that I had forty five minutes to walk, it meant I would arrive after Geoff's funeral had started. There were very few people on my route to ask for directions. I stopped at a refreshments van called Sarah's Kitchen parked on the forecourt of a Howden's kitchen depot to confirm the grim truth. In distress I explained to the lady in charge why I had to be at the Cathedral by noon.

"Can you afford a taxi?" she asked. "I'll call one for you." Kitchen service halted while Sarah and her work mate Ali rang several taxi firms to find one which would be free to pick get me to the Cathedral urgently. After several tries, she looked up, said "Five minutes" smiled and returned to sandwich making. Five minutes later I was on my way for the ten minute drive around the ring road and back into the city centre. After crossing the river Derwent was I able to see the Cathedral tower on the promontory above for the first time. Thankfully, I was half an hour early. Geoff's friends and associates were already arriving. We were well over a hundred in the congregation, with Bishop David Hamid presiding of the Requiem Mass for Geoff, a former colleague and good friend. His eulogy did Geoff justice. The service was beautifully conceived with the Cathedral choir singing the Kontakion for the Departed as part of the Commendatio Animae at the end.

Apart from Bishop David and Judith, former churchwarden of Nerja where Geoff's European chaplaincy ministry started, his wife Carol and his children Becky and Simon, there was nobody there I knew. After I'd greeted them all, I wasn't in the mood for looking at the city centre or trusting myself to wander around town in the extra hour I had before my bargain train ticket determined I should travel on. I returned to the station to get something to eat at the Gregg's snack bar there, looking for and not finding street name signs on the way, asking passers to check I was going in the right direction. 

At least this time the map gave me an overview that made sense but at first sight it was tricky to relate it to what I could see. I thought that routes from city centre to train station would be way-marked adequately. Vehicles yes, but pedestrian signs not as obvious. Cycling signage was fit for purpose and that saved me from taking a wrong turn. I was hungry, thirsty and stressed out by the time I reached the station. Vegan and veggie options were scarce and had to be hunted for on the lower shelves of the display rack. Strange I thought in a city with a strong second and third generation East Asian component of the population, whose kids also eat European fast foods. I got by with a vegetarian sausage roll and a curried veggie pastry slice, waiting more than an hour for the appointed train.

Delays were announced for other trains headed south west. Commuters with more flexible fares than mine piled on to the train after I'd found a seat, filling the aisles to capacity as far as Birmingham, then re-filling for the second leg to Cardiff, despite the number of students getting off at the University stop. I made the wrong choice of seat as I had the setting sun in my eyes all the way to Cardiff. The young man opposite, as well as being tall like me took up floor space between our feet with his travel bag and laptop, reluctant it seems to entrust them to the overhead rack despite the exhortation over the tannoy to do just this. It wasn't a comfortable trip, but I did listen to a couple of episodes of the weekly Archers podcast meanwhile. And there was a 61 bus home within minutes of arriving at Cardiff Central. I walked into the house as tonight's episode of The Archers was starting. 

After a light supper I went out for a short walk at sunset to de-stress myself then went to bed, tired at ten. I'm so used to navigating my way around any new place relying on what I can see in the environment as well as a map, that today's experience was distressing. Not something I want to repeat. On the positive side, I experienced the kindness of two strangers going out of their way to get me to the church on time to say goodbye to a dear friend and fellow pilgrim, from the Halesown where we met, to the Costa del Sol. May he rest in peace.

Eye test

Another sunny day with high cloud making the sky less clear. I got up early, had breakfast at eight, then walked to Thompson's Park and back to get some fresh air and brief exercise, to see what difference it would make to the day, leaving Monday housework chores until I returned. 

I had an hour long phone call with Ashley, which had us both reminiscing about the variety of traders in food and household goods that used come street to street or even door to door when were kids seventy odd years ago. All are now a thing of the past, and in this new millennium have been replaced by online trading and delivery services of quite different nature. Cooked food, groceries, clothes books, and all kinds of electronic gadgets imaginable are now bought without going into a shop and arrive at your home. While we were talking a large bunch of flowers for Clare from the children arrived at the door. The covid lock-down led to a huge expansion of services which existed beforehand but are now available on such a scale that high street shop closures have impacted greatly on the town centre economy.

After lunch, I walked over to the School of Optometry for my annual eye test. The cataract in my right eye hindered the scan of the retina, so I had to book another appointment so the test can be done with the pupil dilated. Still no idea of when I can expect a second cataract operation.

I had an email from cousin Dianne this evening giving a positive verdict on the revisions I made to grandpa's story. That means I can circulate it to family members now.

Clare went out to choir practice at six. After I'd eaten, I set to work on preparing recording next week's Wednesday Morning Prayer. As I'm going to Geoff's funeral in Derby Cathedral tomorrow, I will lose a day's work time, so it's good to get ahead. I now have increasing domestic duties to relieve the pressure on Clare whose hip joint pain has slowed her down significantly.

Bed early tonight, nervous about not waking up at half past six, wondering if I'll have enough time to have breakfast and be out of the house by seven.

Eid on Mothering Sunday

Another clear blue sky sunny day, waking up an hour earlier in effect to start the day at the usual Sunday time. It's Eid al fitr, the end of Ramadan for Muslims today, Mothering  for church goers and Mothers Day for the greeting card and flower industry. BBC's Sunday religious news programme highlighted the fiesta, and promised a live broadcast of Eid prayers from a Bradford mosque for the first time, and there's a live entertainment programme this evening. It's an interesting milestone in the history of the BBC, reflecting the fact that the number of Muslims in the population is four million. Although a third of the population describe themselves as Christian, only three and a half million attend regular worship. Christians are well represented in terms of broadcast air-time, so it's right that the BBC is making an effort to ensure Muslims are adequately represented as well.

I celebrated and preached at St German's this morning, seven months since I last did, and four months since I last sat in the congregation. I was touched to receive a warm welcome from many members of the congregation. There were forty five of us in church, including former Vicar of Tonyrefail Ruth Moverly, whom we both know from the meditation group Diana used to run in her house some time ago. I enjoyed stepping back into the familiar ritual setting, though it was a bit of an effort with an hour's less time in bed, plus it takes me half the morning to feel fully awake. I really could do with getting up early and going for a walk to oxygenate my brain before breakfast to be at my best for the rest of the day. By the end of Mass, I felt much more awake thankfully.

It was a quarter past one before I reached home for lunch. Afterwards I slept in the chair again for over an hour, which at least meant that I felt more awake when it was time to go for a walk. The park was busy with people enjoying the spring afternoon sunshine. A group of about a hundred of all ages were enjoying pizzas together, an Eid party, probably from one mosque. Men and boys played football nearby, women and children were grouped together in a circle of prams and pushchairs, elderly women and men sat in a separate circle, with another large mixed group standing chatting in between them. Quite a sight.

Clare joined me to walk together for a while. She can't walk for so long or so fast these days, but it was nice to sit on a park bench and enjoy the sunshine together. After supper I watched the rest of 'Flowers over the inferno.' In the last half hour a mystery is unravelled, somewhat confusingly as the complex back story to a series of present crimes dates pack forty years and is told far too rapidly to make sense, though I spotted the hidden perpetrator early on. There was a poorly conceived scene in the run up to the final crisis in which a spool of 35mm movie film runs out and the miraculously started re-running while the dramatic action plays out. There's another mystery too in mise en scene. The wonderful Tyrolean alpine landscape is partly covered with snow, but  large melted patches make it look like it's spring, when the big seasonal festa during which the story is enfolding is St Nicholas, 6th December. There are other scenes with snow falling, or hoar frost on the trees, but the rate of change in a succession of scenes to another is implausible as if the movie editor was taking 'artistic' liberties that didn't really make sense. This distracts from the story being told. 

The story, past and present, concerned child abuse of different kinds. The six episode series covered one novel by Ilaria Tuti, featuring Commissaria Teresa Battaglia as a criminal profiler working with a couple of male inspectors, and keeping them on their toes all the time. This seems to be a feature of the Italian crimmies. The role in the story of the supportive friendship of four ten year olds, two of whom weren't strangers to physical abuse, was well portrayed and the kids were just marvellous. They reminded me a little of the Famous Five in children's stories when I was young, except that they were just four. It seems there's another series based on another crimmie featuring Teresa Battaglia is in the pipeline, but it'll be a while before that sees the light of day I suspect.

And that was it - time for bed now.

Eclipse day

I got to bed on time last night and had a better night's sleep. It was sunny when I woke up, but the sky threatened to cloud over by the time today's partial eclipse of the sun was due mid morning. Clare cooked pancakes and I cooked garlic mushrooms for breakfast. I was nice to hear author Michael Morpurgo speak about his daily walk on Radio 4 'Saturday Live' programme. He lives on a farm in the Cornish countryside and takes the same route each day, appreciating the changes he notes as the days of the year pass by. Time to appreciate what gets taken for granted is one of the great gifts of old age he says. He's a year and a half older than me, and share the same experience.

Around half past ten, the sun was passing in and out of moving cloud. Armed with a completely black frame of celluloid film, we both took a peek at the sun with a small portion of it obscured by the moon. It was interesting later to see other people's pictures taken during the eclipse. The moon shadow seems to work its way from the top of the sun's disc around the right hand side, not straight across, as the moon's orbit is elliptical and it's coming past at a different angle to the rotation of the earth. I tried taking a few photos, holding the frame of film over the lens of my Lumix TZ95, and then with the addition of an old UV filter. I didn't have enough know-how or enough time in a hurry to override automatic settings and use a high enough ISO number for a properly exposed shot, so none of them were sharp, and the moon shadow was masked by the glare. Interesting colours after editing the images but not really portraying an amazing natural phenomenon at all. 

I cooked some veg, Clare baked a piece of frozen cod and I heated up yesterday's leftovers for lunch. Then I walked into town to buy a pan from John Lewis' to replace the one that caught fire two days ago. It was impossible to get it perfectly clean as the interior surface is very slightly pitted in places. Fragments of carbonised material are embedded in a few tiny pits, and nothing we tried would remove them. The embedded substance could leach toxins if used for cooking. I thought a new one was advisable. The pan in question was bought when we were in Switzerland over thirty years ago, so why not? Our other Swiss pans are still going strong.

This evening is the Women's rugby international match between Wales and England, so full road closures are in operation and buses re-routed until half past nine tonight. Thousands of spectators arriving early for the match mingled with the influx of shoppers. Women of all ages with confident smiles on their faces, wearing red rugby shirts walking proudly with husbands and children, or in groups. Growing interest in women's sports generally is contributing to an upbeat mood on match day, win or lose.

I walked back home through Canton, so I could buy a jar of olives in the Turkish supermarket. The shiny new pan fits perfectly on the the electric hob, the one it replaces was a centimetre smaller, so cooking with it will be a bit more energy efficient.

After supper, I continued watching 'Flowers over the inferno', then put all the clocks forward, and set out for bed an hour early.

Green woodpecker's eerie call

A bright sunny start to the day, but clouds blew over mid morning. without covering the sky. When I went to be last night, I realised it was an hour later than I thought it was. I hadn't noticed when I sat down to relax with the first episode of the new crimmie with the strange title 'Flowers over the inferno'. The rhythm of the day was broken after lunch by losing an hour on line and on the phone trying to modify my travel insurance. No wonder I didn't sleep as long as I intended. I reckon that since Christmas I've had to spend a total of six hours using online direct message chat bots to make enquiries, each of which could have been answered directly by a living person in fraction of the time.

I read an article this morning about the phenomenal growth in the application of AI for every conceivable purpose, driven by investment entrepreneurs. Promoters admit it's far from perfect, sometimes falling short of real world accuracy when it comes to complex scheduling with many variable elements. Chat bots often fail to answer a question because they've not yet learned from use, or been taught to recognise how many ways a question can be asked. The response to this criticism is to say that humans have to learn how to ask questions in a particular way. We have to adapt to AI, rather than AI succeeding in adapting to the real world. 

Already spelling and grammar checking programs highlight what it thinks are user errors, in an effort to push writers into a style not their own. It can be useful on times but irritating as well when there are words of phrases it doesn't recognise. Blogger wants me to change 'on times' to 'at times'. I write as I speak and think, why should I change? 

We went to St John's for the Lent lunch with a dozen others and sat at table with Andrew and enjoyed an interesting conversation with him about his work as a mental health counsellor at UHW. He starts training for ordination at St Padarn's in the autumn, taking with him a rich experience of lay ministry. I wonder how this will impact on his future priestly role?

After we'd eaten I went shopping for an assortment of groceries - plant milks, fruit and rye bread. It was a heavy load and I was grateful for the rucksack to carry it home on my back rather than in two shopping bags. I slept for over an hour and woke up refreshed before walking in the park. I caught sight of a buzzard riding the thermals a hundred and fifty feet above the trees near the stables, and got a couple of photos at the limit of the range of the Olympus telephoto lens, so not terribly sharp when magnified. One of them, after editing revealed its plumage pattern and colour confirming it was our local raptor. I watched it glide down into the tree cover the other side of the allotments. I think there may be a nest somewhere over there.

After supper I devoted some time to exploring an excellent website of British bird songs and bird calls, in an effort to identify a distinctive loud call which I've been hearing daily at several locations around the two parks for the past couple of months. To my surprise, I discovered that what I'm hearing is a green woodpecker. I've heard them hammering several times of late. It's good to know what kind of woodpecker it is. There's one in Thompson's Park too. We're so lucky to have such a variety of wildlife here at the heart of the city.

Then another episode of 'Flowers in the inferno'. As the story unfolds it seems to be about a mysterious man in disguise avenging children abused by their parents in a remote alpine village, as several incidents of casual if not deliberate violence towards children are portrayed, somewhat shockingly to my mind. How this fits together remains to be seen. The female commissario (chief inspector) in the story is as grumpy with her colleagues as Rocco Schiavone in another Italian crimmie set in the Alps!

Dishwasher with wifi?

Cloudy and colder today, no gradual progression towards warmer spring weather yet. Going up to bed at ten last night gave me a good night's sleep. I shall try and persist with this until the clocks go forward and then repeat. I seem to be so much more rest these days, for the same amount of activity.

Mid-morning I went out to see Marlene and say goodbye to her as Ann and Paul are taking her back to her home in Swansea, after staying with them in Llandaff. She has attended the Wednesday Eucharist at St Catherine's with them over the past couple of years. Yesterday she didn't come as she didn't feel strong enough. I arranged with Ann to go and bid her godspeed before they set off today. She said she was pleased to see me. I think I may remind her of all the other regular attenders who have enjoyed her company over a cuppa after the service. I was glad of the opportunity to give her a blessing before we parted company.

My journey to their house was surprisingly difficult despite Ann's clear instruction. Google maps gave me what I thought was a circuitous route to follow, but didn't make it clear where I had to turn at a junction with two exits side by side, taking me into Llandaff village not their street. I ended up parking at Insole Court, which I knew was close to the street in question, and Ann came out to meet me. A side entrance to the grounds took me there on foot. If I'd been able to leave a little earlier, I could have walked there and not missed the confusing turning. 

Unfortunately my arrival was delayed due to a kitchen disaster. A pan containing a dish cloth being boiled for cleaning had boiled dry. It had just caught fire. The kitchen and other rooms downstairs were filled with acrid smoke. I was able to pick up the pan, put it in the sink and run water over it, but I had to hold my breath while rushing to open doors and windows. Fortunately there was nothing near enough to catch fire, but it was a shock.

I was back home by a quarter to twelve to await the delivery of a new dishwasher from John Lewis', which was due to arrive over lunchtime. Clare had booked a physio appointment at noon, so I needed to be back on time. I completed drafting my Sunday sermon while I was waiting. It was delivered at a quarter to one and took half an hour to connect to drainage and water supply, then run through its setup routine. 

It has a posh electronic interface displaying several dish washing options. One of these is a wifi interface which allows you to attach it to the internet, to be controlled by a phone app. I can't imagine us ever needing to use such a utility. To me it's bizarre and unnecessary. I'd like to know if its connectivity has the ability to find and attach itself to the nearest network, or 4G phone once it's powered on. It sounds silly maybe, but technology pundits have commented on the poor default security settings of devices that are part of the 'internet of things', like smart speakers, thermostats and so on. Fortunately it can be switched off.

I wasn't able to cook lunch while the dishwasher was being installed, but started when the engineer left. Clare's physio session was much longer than expected, so it was almost ready by the time she returned, and we had lunch an hour later than usual.

Before going out for a walk I contacted Staysure travel insurance again, as I realised the policy for renewal didn't have cruise cover, and its list of destinations didn't specify Portugal among the destinations covered. I found the website wouldn't let me edit changes to the renewal police, for no explicable reason, nor could I find the cost of various cruise cover options, only what kind of cover was offered. Obtaining a yes to the destination question, and drawing a blank on the cost of options took half an hour on Direct Messaging. In the end I had to phone a call handler and explain. It took an hour to navigate my way through a lengthy and confusing list of options to decide which I could afford, and pay for it. Simply too much information to take in without being able to view the options at the same time.

It was five o'clock when I set off for the park. I returned as it was getting dark and time for supper without reaching my daily step target, so I went out again after we'd eaten to finish the job. 

I found a new Italian crimmie to watch set in the Dolomites in winter. An hour's escape from a strange day before bed.

Blossom time

Clear sky and bright sunshine return today,  but at 15C it's still with a cold breeze. We were nine adults with baby Seb at the St Catherine's Eucharist. I collected this week's veggie bag on my way home, then recorded next week's biblical reflection and added it to the Morning Prayer audio while Clare cooked lunch. I also started work on a Mothering sermon for the Sunday to come at St German's. After this I have no more bookings to take services or sermons to preach. 

After lunch Clare went to Penarth for a walk with a friend and I walked in the park. I counted three rugby matches in Llandaff Fields and six football matches in Pontcanna Fields, maybe more. There were so many players in different brightly coloured football shirts it was difficult to work out from a distance the exact number of games. There may have been some women players involved but the majority were men. Women were either spectators, or out running instead. 

Yesterday and again today in different regions of Japan, the first blossom is seen and noted officially. It's an auspicious time and the population take time out to visit parks and well known beauty spots. Each day now in Cardiff's parks, blossom and/or leaves are bursting out on the trees. Leaves on our favourite crab apple trees have come out in past few days, but it's too early for them to bloom I think. 

The terrible onslaught continues in Gaza, with Israel and Hamas trying to force concessions out of each other without yielding. more journalists have been killed. There are reports of anti-Hamas protests by people in Gaza, in the face of intimidation by armed men. Impossible to say how many protesters there might be, but it's been noticed now by the wider world. Impossible to say what impact it will have on the situation overall.

After supper I made next week's Morning Prayer video and uploaded it to YouTube. I also backed up Clare's computer Home directory to prepare to upgrade the laptop to the latest edition of Linux Mint. Time passes so quickly that was all I had time for before getting to bed early.     

Lighting frustration

The feast of the Annunciation today. The Parish has given up the routine observance of major saints' days that fall during the week unless it's on a Wednesday. It means going to the Cathedral or to a church in a neighbouring parish which maintains the tradition. Apart from the travel, there's the hassle of finding out what the service times are, and it's not always possible to fit this in. Retirement often feels busy, not least because it takes much longer to do perform domestic chores, take exercise and go for medical checkups! Anyway, I wrote two reflective haiku on the Gospel of the day. So far I've been able to write one on each day since Ash Wednesday. It makes you think about what is the most important point in the Gospel text.

Mild and dry today with clouds and sunshine.  Getting to bed half an hour earlier last night was beneficial. I must make more effort to resist late evening distractions. After breakfast Clare went to her study group in Penarth. I prepared, recorded and edited next Wednesday's Morning Prayer before cooking lunch in time for her return. Writing a biblical reflection on Christ the Good Shepherd after lunch came quickly. Making the recording will have to wait.

I went to Cardiff Central station to buy tickets for the trip to Derby for Geoff's funeral. I'll need to get up very early to catch an eight forty five train. It'll get me to Derby Cathedral half an hour early to give me time to meet his family and any colleagues from the Diocese in Europe who may be there. I'll have plenty of time to return on the three thirty eight train. Amazingly, commitment to particular trains means the total cost is forty pounds, a flexi-fare costs over a hundred!

Before returning home I walked around town and checked the progress of the demolition of the former Debenhams department store building. Not much is visible over the safety screens enclosing the site but since I last passed by, the interior of the building has been hollowed out, with the excavating machines digging down from the rooftop parking bay. It's a pity I've not yet been able to find a viewpoint over the site above street level.

I took the bus back to Canton and walked home from there. After a cup of tea and a bun, I went out again and walked in Llandaff Fields for half an hour to complete my daily distance quota. After supper the strip lighting installed under the kitchen cabinets over the working surface came adrift from their mounting, not for the first time. There simply aren't quite enough clips attaching to each long florescent tube to ensure it's sufficiently stable, to survive the lightest of glancing blows from beneath. Easy enough to touch it if you're using the working surface. There are three units attached to each other in a chain, if one goes they all go. I'm surprised they have come apart without breaking to tubes. In desperation, I used gaffer tape to suspend the units while I manipulated the three feet long chain of tubes into their mounting brackets and then reconnect them. That gave me a lot of stress and lost me an hour's relaxation, so I watched the last episode in the current series of 'Astrid - murders in Paris' before going to bed 

Story completed

Thin high cloud today, dispersing during the day, dry but a little colder. Housework after breakfast, then writing the final chapter of grandpa's story. I knew I wanted to end it with my father's birth, but how to deliver this given how little information we have inherited to speculate around and build into the narrative. Anyway, until I find more concrete information to shape this tale worth telling, what's done is done. I've sent a copy to cousin Dianne for early feedback. She's recently finished reading the version ending on grandpa's return from America. The new version is half as long again, but incorporates elements about grandma's parents' back story, as well as the path from courtship to marriage.

While I was writing, Clare cooked a veggie pasta dish for lunch. Afterwards, I walked in Thompson's Park for an hour before we drove to Rumney for a hairdo with Chris. While Clare was being seen to, I walked around the lake at Parc Trederlech in the sun. The roads were busy with rush hour traffic, and it was nearly six by the time we reached home. Clare had a snack, then rushed off to a 'Canna Capella' choir practice. By the time I'd eaten it was dark, so I went out for a walk in Llandaff Fields to complete my exercise for the day, then settled down to watch the first episode of 'Helsinki Crimes' second series before early bed.

Journey challenge

 Over cast, and cooler today, but no rain. My last Sunday locum visit to St Paul's Grangetown, with twenty five adults and nine children in the congregation. I had hoped to visit Basma, after the service, but she had a guest staying with her, so I came home earlier than expected.

After lunch I snoozed in the chair before going for a walk in the park. Clare went to the Welsh language Eucharist at St Catherine's at four. I received a message from Becky about Geoff Johnston's funeral. It will be in Derby Cathedral at noon on April 1st. It's a straightforward journey by train, but since the reception afterwards is in Belper, and I am not sure about travelling there and then back Derby station for the train home. It will be a very early start on the day, but I intend to go.

Again I spent the evening after supper working on the concluding chapters of my grandfather's story. It's taking me longer than expected. Another late bed time as a result.

Booking for Spain again

Another cloudy day with some drizzle, but 16C again. Pancakes, sweet and savoury, for breakfast. Clare went out after breakfast. I completed the recording and editing  for next week's Wednesday Morning Prayer, then made the video slide show to go with it and uploaded it to YouTube. I don't know why, but I had trouble for the first time with the video editing app, so it took me much longer than usual to complete. Then I cooked fish and veg for lunch.

Afterwards we compared diaries to agree the window of opportunity for booking a trip to visit Veronica in L'Escala. No Vueling flights out of Cardiff unfortunately, so Bristol to Barcelona was inevitable. At least with an airport coach from Sophia Gardens it's more straightforward than Cardiff-Wales. Changes to the user interface of the EasyJet website added to the difficulty of booking. Finding suitably convenient times, given a two hour onward journey increased the cost and so did the expense of adding a cabin bag for each of us. Anyway, it's done now. We'll be with Veronica and John, 10th-16th May.

This exercise took so long it was tea time when Clare and I went for a walk in Llandaff Fields. Her hip was painful and progress slow. After a while we returned home, then I went out again and walked until sunset. I spent the evening, adding more to grandpa Jack's tale. Getting nearer the end of the story now that I have rearranged some of the recent additions as well as writing new paragraphs. 

A day writing

Overcast today with occasional light drizzle, but mild enough at 16 degrees. I slept badly waking up early with shoulder pain. Astonishing news about Heathrow having to be closed for the day as a result of losing its entire power supply due to a fire in a key electricity transformer station. Unprecedented, embarassing, causing travel chaos for hundreds of thousands, with planes having to be diverted to airports at home and abroad, as they were unable to land. It may never have happened before, that the backup transformer also failed to deliver, but it does reveal what sort of risk management is going to be required when the world's energy requirements are met largely by grid electricity. Perhaps it's providential and will lead to a re-think of what level of resilience in our systems is required to avoid catastrophes in future.

Netanyahu's government is now threatening Hamas with the progressive annexation of land in Gaza and expulsion of its inhabitants if the remaining hostages are not set free. Analysts reckon that Hamas is far from defeated, as its militias have had an influx of new recruits, in reaction to the death and destruction meted out by the Israeli military. It's heartbreaking. It's criminal and heartbreaking,

After breakfast I continued writing grandpa Jack's new story ending, right through to lunchtime. Clare cooked tofu with veg. Afterwards I went to the surgery to book a medication review then did some grocery shopping and walked in the park for an hour and a half until drizzle turned into light rain, at which point I returned home. Clare had gone into town to buy printer cartridges while I was out, and didn't return until supper time. I spent the evening absorbed in trying to draw grandpa's story to a satisfactory conclusion, with the birth of his firstborn son, my dad John. Well, that's the plan anyway. Early bed now, to make up for the last couple of nights.

Dispatched

A lovely mild sunny day with the temperature rising to 17C, notably higher than usual for the Spring Equinox and most welcome. Owain was up before us having breakfast and a shower. He went off to work at eight thirty, ready for his token day in the office. Crazily, although the Insolvency Agency has people working from home in Bristol the relocation of their regional base has meant the nearest physical office location where he can occupy a desk is now in Cardiff. Next month should be his last, as regional HMRC has a physical office in Bristol, giving Owain his own workstation and a team of colleagues based there, while retaining the option to work from home on suitable occasions. He's looking forward to the change of ambience. Spending so much time working virtually without rubbing shoulders and popping out to lunch with colleagues can't really be life enhancing.

Clare had an early appointment at the bone clinic in Llandough Hospital so I took her there after breakfast. I had a rendezvous with Iona for coffee at eleven. With no idea of how long her appointment would take, I came straight home. I'd not been home ten minutes when she called to ask if I could come and collect her as she'd have a long wait for the next bus. I had enough time to go and collect her, and we were back by half past ten. The appointment was simply to give her an injection of a medication which would deliver calcium to strengthen her bones. It's something she now has every six months since she completed the two year daily regime of self-injection.

Iona and I chatted about the Ministry Area reflecting on the period since she completed her term of office as lay co-chair and how things may develop now. Jan will be finishing her ministry at 'the Res' in June, a vacancy that will be hard to cover adequately, let alone recruit for. The church still retains a key role in the parish hosting an unusually large number of funerals as it's a gathering point for the local community in the face of tragic events. It's a deprived area, seeing an above average number of untimely deaths. Having a pastor on the spot to turn to is really important. Let's hope the vacancy won't be long.

Clare had lunch ready cooking by the time I returned home - roast fish and veg. I found her sitting out in the garden enjoying the warmth of the sun relaxing and reading a book. After lunch I worked on a sermon for Sunday. The Eucharist readings didn't inspire me much, so I looked in my archive to find out how I'd worked with them before. I took an old sermon apart and re-wrote it completely. Looking back at old material like that gave me an insight into how my preaching style has changed over the past twenty years, moving from the heart of the city at St John's to an assortment of places on locum at home and abroad. It's a good reminder that it's impossible to preach the same sermon twice whether with the same audience or a different one. Just like it's impossible to have exactly the same conversation with someone, even if the subject matter is the same.

In the post today a posting bag and pre-paid label from TalkTalk to return the redundant and the duplicate routers. I was starting to wonder how long it would take to receive this delivery. Six days in fact. I packed the bag and took it to the Post Office, glad to see the back of them. From there I walked down to Tesco's to meet Clare and go for a walk. She was shopping for printer ink cartridges but there were none to be found locally. It means a walk into town or to the Western Avenue Tesco's. We walked home up Llandaff  Road and stopped for a drink the artisan cafe cum bakery called 'Ground' since it was taken over and re-branded last autumn. Then I continued walking in Llandaff Fields for an hour until sunset.

After supper, I read some more of Rowan's book and started writing a different ending to grandpa Jack's story until it was time for bed.

 

Cruise booked

Another sunny day, but still cold. I woke up in good time to post today's YouTube Morning Prayer link to WhatsApp. Disturbed to hear on the news that the Israeli army has started another ground assault in Gaza. Protest demonstrations by the families of remaining hostages again Netanyahu's government are growing, but nothing has changed. Yet. 

I went to the Eucharist at St Catherine's. With baby Sebastian we were eleven this morning Marlene and Pam, the congregation's nonagenarians were both there. After coffee, I collected the weekly veg bag and returned home to cook a veggie pasta lunch. I fell asleep in the chair for over an hour, then went our with my rucksack to buy supplies of different kinds of flour for baking - a heavy load I'd prefer on my back and not in an unstable three wheel shopping caddy. 

While I was out, travel agent Kate emailed me to arrange a tea time telephone call. I walked in the park for and and got back in time for this. As a result, we're now booked on a Duoro river cruise in mid-August, a week after our wedding anniversary.

Owain had trouble getting a train to be with us in time for supper, so between us we prepared a cooked meal for him. We'd agreed to go to St Catherine's to hear Bishop Rowan talk about his book, which is our recommended Lent reading this year. I started reading it last night, and found it very engaging and full of insight expressed originally. Unfortunately Owain's late arrival completely distracted us and I remembered this event only after it had started. I decided to go late and Clare stayed to cook his supper.

Over sixty people from all over the Ministry Area attended. I slipped into church and sat in the stewards' pew by the door, anxious not to disturb the gathering by walking further. It meant that hearing properly wasn't possible all the time, as voices don't carry so well into the side aisles. Rowan is such a natural and confident communicator with a relaxed way of engaging his audience, it was a pleasure to watch him. It could have been a trial if I hadn't been reading his book and had a point of reference for understanding what he was talking about.

I had a drink and a chat with a few people afterwards. Fr Jesse was there, and in good spirits, as he's been asked to take St Luke's under his wing in addition to St David's. I imagine he'll do well there, as he's fully immersed in their kind of spirituality.

It was gone nine by the time I reached home, to spend the remainder of the evening chatting with Owain.

Dark shadows on a bright day

A cold day but a cloudless sky to lift the spirits. Grim news from Gaza where over 400 people have been killed by bombing, many of them children as Israel abandons the cease fire after two months in another effort to force Hamas to agree an immediate release of all hostages. Hamas resists, still pursuing the aim of stalled second phase cease-fire terms leading to withdrawal of Israeli occupying forces from Gaza. There's a high level of risk that the remaining hostages will not survive this new onslaught and there's mounting disquiet about the decision that has been taken.

Clare's study group arrived after breakfast. I composed and recorded next Wednesday's biblical reflection while they were in session, then Clare and I cooked lunch together. She had an eye appointment at UHW so I drove her there. Cousin Dianne has finished reading 'Jack's tale and enjoyed it. At her suggestion I wrote an extra page for the story about his very long wait in the Ellis Island immigration centre before his visa was issued. I may also try a different ending, to make the most of a few key facts we have about him re-settling in Britain. Then I walked for two hours in Thompson's Park and Llandaff Fields and returned just as the sun was reaching the horizon. By this time Clare had already left for the fortnightly meditation group and I had supper on my own.

The next two hours I spent filling in Aviva's bond surrender form, a nightmare of a task when a legal and financial document contains jargon that's foreign to you. I had to use Google search several times to reach an understanding of the required terminology. So much is done on-line these days that filling in a paper form is a rarity. I can no longer make light work of it as I'm so out of practise. It makes me nervous having to do it, like sitting an exam. It's about fear of failure I reckon, and very stressful. I was too tired to tackle flight bookings for our visit Veronica in May. She checked with the UHW hip surgery department and was told she will be on the waiting list for eighteen months to two years. 

Trump and Putin had a long talk today. One of Putin's demands is withdrawal of all military support from other countries, something Zelenskyy and his European allies will not agree to, as it deprives Ukraine of its sovereignty as an internationally recognised nation. Trump's attitude towards Ukraine suggests he's sympathetic to the Russian view that Ukraine is just a schismatic territory of the motherland. His talk with Putin seems to be interested more in assets whose exploitation can be shared between Russia and America without reference to Ukraine. The only good thing is that it's drawing the European community of nations and Britain into a tighter more committed relationship for mutual defence, and support for Ukraine.

Travel plans

Clouds and a cold wind today. After breakfast as usual on Mondays housework, but under pressure to get to Coffee#1 for a ten o'clock rendezvous with Rufus, to chat about his work as Seafarers' Chaplain in the ports of Wales. It's challenging for him. In addition to ship visiting duties he has to raise and train a team of volunteers to sustain the work in each port, and that's increasingly difficult with the diminishing number of church people from the parishes able and willing to participate. It's a key missionary undertaking that's been neglected over the years, sad to say. It was great to see him in good form, despite his workload.

I returned home to cook a prawn stir fry with brown rice for lunch. Clare, who was out shopping, left me a message to call Aviva. It took me a while to get connected with a human being, and it turned out nobody knew of a reason for me to make contact. When I checked with Clare, she'd picked up on a message from last week when I received a queue call-back which I was unable to pick up, as our phone was accidentally off the hook. I'd forgotten to delete it. So much confusion!

After lunch, I prepared the text for next Wednesday Morning Prayer, and then went out for a walk around Llandaff Fields for an hour and a half. I got some nice photos of a pair of missle thrushes and closeups of a wood pidgeon. There's a newly planted cherry tree by the footpath connecting the children's play ground with Pontcanna Fields, and its blossom is out, joining the other trees whose buds burst into flower before the leaves come out.

I got back home in time to receive a call from Kath's school friend Kate who is now a personal travel agent. She's going to research river cruise options for us late summer, either on the Duoro or the Rhone. I've decided to cash in one of my investment bonds to pay for this, while we're fit enough to make the journey. I also contacted Veronica to discuss the timing of our visit to meet her and John at home in L'Escala, early May. Our first visit to the Costa Brava where Veronica settled and made her home forty odd years ago as a young teacher.

I printed off the withdrawal form Aviva sent me to apply for a cash transfer of funds when it expires, seven pages in all. Filling it in, signing and sending it is not as straightforward as I hoped it would be as it contains legal or financial jargon I'm not familiar with. It's also a portmateau kind of document designed to cover several complex kinds of trust fund owners and multiple signatories. It says it may require verification of bank  account ownership and passport or driving license to prove identity. It doesn't say 'must', and doesn't say if passport or driving license copies are sufficient. It seems to depend on whether electronic verification is satisfactory on its own. More hassles.

Elusive nuthatches

A bright sunny start to the day, though it clouded over later. I was relieved not to be as tired and stiff in the limbs as I thought I'd be today. We went with Clare to the Eucharist at St Catherine's. With Sunday Club back in action there were over fifty in church, ten of them children. We went straight home for lunch instead of socialising after the service. 

After we'd eaten I went out for a walk around Thompson's Park. With the help of Google I identified the song of a nuthatch perching quite near me on a bare branch, but couldn't get my camera out fast enough to take a photo. I heard the same song in the distance from a tree on the other side. When I walked to where the song was coming from I glimpsed two nuthatches high up, but the sight lines weren't good, and they flew off together before I could take aim. 

By way of compensation I took a few good photos of a blue tit and a couple of starlings perched high up. I started to feel cold and in need of a siesta, so I returned home and slept in the chair for an hour, then went out again invigorated to complete my daily step quota.

The aid blockade on Gaza continues, and Palestinians are being killed despite the cease-fire. Meanwhile the Americans are bombing Houthi rebel military targets to counter threats made to attack ships in the Red Sea in 'protest' at the aid blockade. Netanyahu has dismissed the head of Sin Beth alleging 'disloyalty' by the head of an agency head that is meant to be neutral and independent in its security intelligence role and is being criticised for having done so. No progress in this conflict, and no change on cease-fire talks in the Russia-Ukraine conflict too, except that Ukraine is losing territory taken in the Kursk region, losing some of the territorial bargaining power it had gained. 

After supper I watched a double episode of 'Astrid - murders in Paris', and then it was time for bed.

In town on match day

Cold and cloudy again today. I got up late and woke up with a stiff neck, paying the price for working late. I'm trying an orthopaedic pillow at the moment, but it doesn't help much. Clare was up before me cooking pancakes for breakfast. I cooked garlic mushrooms for a savoury supplement. Then another daily haiku written after Morning Prayer. 

The postman came and handed over another TalkTalk router package. Not the return equipment mail bag I spent half an hour arranging to receive yesterday! Another half hour or so wasted contacting TalkTalk via their DM thread getting apologies and a further promise of mailbag delivery. Now I have two packages to return. Whatever part AI plays in this process, it's not doing well to deliver a satisfactory service. Or is it simply a case of human carelessness somewhere along the line?

While Clare was wrestling with an on-line cognition test, I went out and did some grocery shopping that took me longer than expected. Bathroom disinfectant was on the list. I had to visit four shops before I was able to find what was needed. Then I cooked lentils with veg for lunch. Her test showed that he's above average for someone of her age, despite short term memory problems.

I went out for a walk after we'd eaten, and headed towards town along the riverside path, mildly curious about the match day atmosphere in town. Wales playing England today. As I reached Sophia Gardens, I could hear the strains of the Welsh national anthem, coming from the loudspeakers of the Brewhouse pub and kitchen nearby, but not from the stadium a quarter of a mile away, which meant the roof was closed. I walked to Westgate Street closed for the match, and only then could the muffled roar of the crowd inside be heard. 

Scores of stewards in hi-viz jackets were standing around doing nothing. All the pubs were packed with people watching the game. The best place to find out the score was in tech' shop window screens showing the match to passers by in the rather quiet Saint David shopping centre. Nothing much has changed in the fifteen years since I was walking the city centre on match day, except there's less discarded food wrappers and drinks containers on the streets now. It's a sign that litter clean up teams are operating more effectively now than they did fifteen years ago. The post-match clean-up won't last so long, and may well cost less in Saturday overtime. 

As I started to make my way home before the match ended, spectators were already leaving the stadium with heads hung down. A sign that Wales was losing yet again. The seventeenth defeat in a row. As I was about to cross the bridge to Cowbridge Road East, Clare called to remind me about eating early before this evening's concert in the Cathedral. I had completely forgotten about this, distracted as I was by ambling down memory lane. I was within sight of two buses that passed me by, so I had to walk all the way home, but I made it in time to eat before we went out at dusk across Llandaff Fields under a cold clear sky, wondering which planets were the few bright lights we could see.

The Cathedral was packed. The concert was in aid of Gaza, featuring several local celebrity musicians I'd never heard of, apart from Charlotte Church and a couple of bi-lingual poets. One read a poem in Arabic Welsh and English translations,  the other whose name I did catch was the writer Meredydd Hopwood, who is currently Archdruid of the Gorsedd of Bards, the first woman to hold the office. Her single poem combined Welsh and English with perfect fluency. I understood enough of the Welsh to be aware of the continuity between them. It was a masterly exercise in bi-lingual creativity. She was the only one of the contributors I could understand, as the sound system was too loud, and the echo impaired audibility. 

Sadly, the sound environment, plus the poor enunciation of most of the contributors made speech and songs unintelligible. No, it's not my hearing. When our friend Mark duetted with a pianist he  often plays with, they were not amplified yet perfectly audible at the back when the audience quietened to listen. Still small voices.

We left before the end of the concert as it was bound to finish another half an hour later. Too late for us. I was pleased to buy a copy of Bishop Rowan's new Lent book from the Cathedral bookstall which was staffed during the concert. He's giving a talk about it at church this Wednesday evening. Despite the temperature being close to zero, the walk home under a nearly full moon was enchanting. I hadn't intended to walk ten miles today but I did and felt none the worse for it.  I can't remember when I last walked so far in one day.

An eclipse of the moon happened just before dawn. I didn't wake up at first light and there was in any case a thin veil of high cloud, so I would have missed it anyway. A good night's sleep anyway. After breakfast Clare went off with a friends for a walk by the sea. After Morning Prayer and haiku writing, I contacted TalkTalk via Direct Message to enquire about returning my redundant router. The message dialogue was very slow, first presuming that the delivery package had included a return label or bag, which it didn't. A simple request took half an hour to get one posted to me. The connection kept threatening to time out as responses came so slow. The messaging service must be busy today. I wonder how many others have had a similar query to mine?

I went to St John's for the Lent lunch and chatted with a few people, including Andrew who returned from UHW where he works as a counsellor to take his lunch break with the other loyal church members who turned up. He's starting to train for ministry full time this autumn, so he won't be in a position to join in Parish activity on a regular basis, as he'll be sent elsewhere to gain experience of other churches and take a different leadership role as an ordinand. He'll be missed.

Kath's school friend Kate the travel agent responded to the email I sent her last week while she was trying out a Danube cruise. We'll talk through cruise options suitable for us some time soon hopefully. While I was walking through the woods on the Taff west bank listening to birdsong very close to me, although tree branches are still bare, I had difficulty spotting birds a few feet above my head. When I did finally spot a great tit, the photo I took was poor, perhaps because it wasn't quite bright enough. Auto-focus takes a bit more time to make up its mind in such conditions. 

Rachel rang up while I was putting my camera away. Initially the phone signal wasn't good enough to sustain a WhatsApp conversation, so I called her back when I got to Blackweir Bridge where the signal is consistent and strong, then we talked for an hour until just after I got home. Then she said it was time for her to get up and start work making truffles for her next order. It's breakfast time for her in AZ after all.

I cooked thick  steaks with brown rice and veggies for supper, poached slowly with olive oil, a clove of garlic and lots of lemon juice. Thinly sliced tuna steaks need flash frying, a minute in the pan or less, but an inch thick steak needs a different treatment. Fortunately I got the timing right and the flesh stayed succulent without hardening. The residual jus was perfect with rice and veg.

When I came to transfer the photos I'd taken after supper, I couldn't find my camera. I searched all the room I'd been in when I returned with no success and wondered if I might have dropped it while talking to Rachel without noticing. Eventually I found it hanging by the strap on a coat peg in the hall. It's something I have done before on a specific peg, but I'd already looked there. This time I parked it on a different peg  while taking my coat off and it hidden by jackets sharing the same peg. It made me realise how distressing I find any disruption of routines and regular habits. All part of getting old I suppose, along with needing much more sleep to enjoy feeling well all day.

I didn't feel like settling down to watch something as I was tired and I didn't want to stay up too late. Then I wanted to share with Rachel the recording of a Great Tit made earlier but extracting it from the recording app in order to send on WhatsApp was tricky. The sound quality wasn't good so reducing the noise seemed a good idea. Audacity declared it a faulty MP3 file and refused to load it. Fortunately the 'Twisted Wave' cloud app used by Chromebook had no problem loading it, eliminating background noise and producing a file Audacity accepted and I completed the edit with a sound boost. Well, that's good to know, but I got to bed later than I intended.

Turning point or not?

Cloudy but not overcast, with that chilling wind blowing again today. Mark arrived mid-morning and gave Clare a violin lesson. I busied myself with installing the new router, and updating the wifi password on ten different devices, a fiddly job. The easiest one was the phone, as there's a wifi password QR code, which can be scanned and connects automatically. A couple of Clare's rarely used devices had to be re-charged before they would start, and it took me as long to finish the job as Clare's lesson took. With a fish and chip lunch Clare prepared and ready to cook, we had an early lunch, as she had an exercise class to attend.

Although I remember thinking about a haiku to reflect yesterday's Gospel, I discovered that I'd forgotten to compose it properly and write it down, so I gathered up fragments of phrases recalled and committed them to writing before starting on a new one for today. Then I went for a walk, first in Thompson's Park and then Llandaff Fields. I spotted what I think was a buzzard, to judge by its size, in a patch of woodland behind the WJEC building, and then a little later a tree creeper foraging on lichen covered tree bark. Quite a contrast in size!

After supper I watched the rest of 'Get Millie Black', a powerful dramatic story about people trafficking and modern slavery, but also about police corruption, persistent racism and homophobia. Several of the key players in the story are given a voice, a bit like Chorus in Greek Tragedy. It is a tragic story with many lives ending violently at the behest of criminal organisers. Detective Millie Black is the protagonist who investigates cases of missing children. She digs deep and is single minded, sometimes ruthless in getting to the heart of the matter, estranging colleagues and upsetting friends in the process. She is alone at the  start of the story and alone at the end, still searching for her transgender brother and a new start in life. By the time its final episode was aired, media opinion was that there should be a second season. This was a complete stand alone story, but with such strong and interesting characters that new stories could be told about them, but it's a matter of wait and see for the moment.

Putin has expressed interest in discussing a ceasefire, but hedged it about with so many qualifications that implies no change in his war aim of absorbing Ukraine into the revived Russian empire.  "He says yes, but no" as one commentator said. What Trump will make of this remains to be seen. He's put pressure on both sides to negotiate and is impatient to secure a quick ceasefire as he promised before his election. Putin is likely to drag this out as long as possible. Will Trump lose interest as he did when dealing with Kim Jong Un in his first term and made no progress? An American envoy is having talks in Moscow tonight. Is this a turning point on the path to peace or will the process end up going around in circles?

New router arrives

Another day of sunshine mixed with clouds with a few brief showers in the afternoon.  I woke up early, posted the YouTube link for Morning Prayer on WhatsApp, then dozed for an hour before getting up and getting ready for church.

Ukraine has agreed to a general proposal about a temporary ceasefire and peace talks. The world waits to hear whether Putin will agree to this or not. Trump says he's going to meet Putin in the coming weeks. In the light of Zelensky's agreement, the use of Musk's Starlink satellite network and US military intelligence sharing will be resumed. The same tactic was used behind the scenes to get stalled ceasefire talks between Hamas and Israel started again. More Palestinians have been killed in the time since the talks stalled, and the blockade of humanitarian aid and electricity supplies continues, as talks resume in Qatar on extending the temporary ceasefire. Netanyahu's government refuses to consider ending the conflict despite calls from world leaders to end the aggression and allow the rebuilding of Gaza to proceed. The nightmare continues for the Gaza population and the world looks on horrified, as crimes against humanity are committed again and again.

I celebrated two Eucharists today as Sion is away on a training course. We were just five at St Catherine's and seven at St John's. On the way home I collected this week's veggie bag from Chapter. Clare was busy cooking sausages for lunch when I arrived. A new router arrived in the post from TalkTalk. The package was slim enough to slip through a standard sized mailbox. I opened it and checked the content, but didn't feel the need to swap old for new straight away. A new router means a password change for all our wifi devices, five for me and five for Clare. It's better to do the lot in one go and test them, rather than do it on a basis of need, when any of them is switched on in a hurry.

A chill wind was blowing, dispersing all the cloud while I was walking up to Western Avenue and over the bridge to return on the east bank path, busy with commuting cyclists after four any working weekday, used by staff and students from Glantâf Welsh Comprehensive school in one direction, and city centre office workers in the other. I picked up eleven drink containers - cans, glass or plastic bottles on my circuit. Over the winter it's been about three a day. As the weather improves, and there are more daylight hours after work, more people come out to play sports or socialise in the park, and the amount of discarded containers increases. The distribution of existing litter bins is inadequate, but drink cans, especially energy drinks are often discarded within twenty yards of a bin. Does imbibing such sickly caffeinated beverages produce a kind of amnesia or myopia in the consumer?

After supper and the Archers I found a new crimmie to watch on Channel 4 called 'Get Millie Black'. It's about a Jamaican born detective working in London who returns home and joins the Jamaica Police Force, and when looking for a missing schoolgirl unearths a people trafficking enterprise run by organised liking Kingston and London. Running alongside this is a story of two siblings abused by a violent mother, both fleeing home when teenagers. It's about changing identities and coming to terms with the past. Much of it is filmed in Kingston. It's fantastic to hear dialogue in Jamaican patois used again in a dramatic context, even if I did end up switching on the subtitles. It takes me back to my time in St Paul's Bristol, and my visit to Kingston forty two years ago. How it's changed since then. I made myself stop and get ready for bed after a couple of episodes, saving the rest for tomorrow.

Landmark transformation

Slightly colder today, cloudy, but with sunshine. I made an effort to get up earlier for breakfast but then fell asleep for an hour after saying Morning Prayer. Then I went shopping for fruit and veg after breakfast. 

On my way to Tesco's, I noticed that three tall saplings and a laurel hedge had been planted in the past few days along the boundary wall of a Victorian mansion called 'The Cedars' on Llandaff Road. The house has undergone a complete restoration to former glory in the past year, and now lacks only a main gate a stretch of railings and a surface for the parking area in front. I daresay there will be an article about it in the media before long and we'll learn why someone has gone to the trouble of restoring the house back to single from multiple occupancy.

Clare had an early lunchtime eye appointment so she cooked lunch while I was out and we ate at twelve for a change. She returned with a recommendation from the optometrist who saw her for coping with her sore eye. There's irritation is under her eyelid. It seems several minute glands aren't working the way they are meant to. She has an appointment with the eye surgeon next week. I hope this will lead to an effective remedy, as it's causing her distress at the moment.

After lunch I made the video slideshow for next week's Morning Prayer and uploaded it to YouTube. Then I went for a walk down to the Cowbridge Road bridge over the Taff, crossed and walked back through Bute Park to Blackweir Bridge. More early blossoming trees are now covered with pink or white flowers, a lovely sight. At Blackweir a heron was standing by the base of the fish ladder. I had my camera in my hand at the time and saw the bird move in a flash to catch a small fish, but missed the shot. Another man was standing there camera in hand. His reflexes were quicker than mine. He captured the heron holding a fish in its beak for a second before swallowing it. He showed me another photo he'd taken the other side of the bridge of a nuthatch at close range. Evidently it's his lucky day.

When I got back, I read more of Marques' novela 'Cronica de una Muerta Anunciada' until supper time, and after viewed the final episodes of a Dutch crimmie I've been watching about corrupt cops colluding with organised criminals in the drugs trade called 'Sleepers'. Pretty average stuff with no heroes and a good deal of villainy among the cops as well as the crooks, also another inconclusive ending begging for a second series. Rather dull really.

Death of a kindred spirit

Cloudy today with periods of light rain. Such distressing news from Israel. Having withdrawn all aid fro Gaza last week, Netanyahu has now cut off electricity supplies to increase pressure on Hamas to deliver all hostages, living and dead, before any formal negotiation can resume. It's tantamount to a war crime, according to an expert in international law interviewed on the radio.

Clare spent an hour on the phone trying to reach the UHW eye clinic for an emergency appointment as her current antibiotic medication isn't working. Frustrated by lack of success, she took a taxi to the hospital, only to be told she had to get a referral from an optician or the School of Optometry. Why brand an unresponsive phone number as 'eye emergency clinic' when it doesn't even provide an off line message advising callers to consult an optician for a treatment referral? This has happened to Clare a couple of times before sadly. A local optician has given her an appointment tomorrow.

While she was out and the house was quiet I recorded and edited next week's Wednesday Morning Prayer then did the house cleaning. I also contacted Aviva about one of my investment bonds which is due for renewal or redeployment in April. The robotic answering machine asked for the policy code of six numbers with two letters at the end. The digits were recognised, but the letters 'UU' were interpreted as a single U, so I couldn't confirm it was correct. This meant I had to ring and join a queue to speak to a real human being. I complained about the voice recognition software incorrectly interpreting my information twice, as I had called the helpline twice, being careful to leave a space between the 'Us' second time. "Did you think of trying double U?" I was asked. "That's a different letter altogether." I said. An embarrassed laugh followed. At the conclusion of the call I was promised a funds withdrawal application form by email and by letter. 

I cooked filleted sardines with rice and veg for lunch and then went for a walk in the parks. On my way home I had a phone call from Geoff Johnston's daughter Becky to say that he died in his sleep last night. It was such a shock. I knew he'd suffered from diabetes for the past twenty years, but it had never got out of control, he was well and active with no sign anything was wrong. Carol his wife and the rest of the family are overtaken with shock at the unexpected nature of his departure. I called Judith, former churchwarden of Nerja's Anglican Chaplaincy, and found she'd just been told. My email of condolences to Carol bounced back, but fortunately Judith was able to update me for a resend.

Geoff and I got to know each other working in the Halesowen Team Ministry in the late 1980s. We got on well as we'd both been influenced by monastic spirituality, and shared the same kind of radical theology of mission. He was an industrial chaplain at a time when the Black Country was being de-industrialised, so he had to switch his focus to supporting redundant workers, and started a pioneering Credit Union branch as part of it. After a sabbatical with industrial missioners in Berlin, he pioneered a twin parish link with the Stefanausgemeinde in Leipzig. He and I were members of an eight strong parish party that went behind the Berlin Wall and visited Leipzig for the twinning inaugural ceremony, weeks before the Wall came down. We were walking in the vicinity of the Brandenburg Gate the night Eric Honekker resigned, and saw the media circus descend on a government building where his successor as DDR president Egon Krenz was making his first appearance in public. 

Those few world changing days in East Germany inspired both of us to open ourselves up to ministry in Europe somehow. Two years later, I became Chaplain in Geneva. Geoff became the Vicar of St Francis Dudley, a tough inner city parish. He contracted diabetes there and took early retirement. This opened the way for him to become Chaplain in Nerja. When I retired, he invited me to do locum cover for him, and this got me started on doing locum duty in other places in Spain. He became Area Dean while he was there and then Archdeacon a job which he continued in his retirement, living in Belper, near to East Midlands Airport, enabling him to travel to any part of the Peninsula and Italy to visit chaplaincies. 

By the time covid struck he had handed over the Archdeacon's role, but continued doing occasional locum duties. He was in Mojacar last year when I was in Nerja. We planned to meet midway, but I was reluctant about doing a two hours drive on my own to the rendezvous, and called it off, so in the past year we only exchanged emails. The last time we met in person was in 2016 when I was on locum duty in Mojacar, and Geoff came as Archdeacon to help them with their chaplaincy job description. He was a kindred spirit, one of the few priests I could ever say this about. May he rest in peace and rise in glory.

Writing today's haiku on the judgement Parable of Sheep and Goats was challenging, not least because it arouses a sense of shame that all too often I don't know what to do for the best when confronted by someone with real needs, more complex than I have confidence to deal with.

A ring of truth

Another bright sunny day despite drifting light cloud. I didn't sleep comfortably and stiff neck muscles dulled my senses. I wasn't as sharp as I usually am, and need to be. Celebrating the Eucharist at St Paul's felt like an effort, and I stumbled on my words a few times. Before leaving I sent a message to Basma with a link to the service on Zoom for her to watch at home. She's still housebound. I had intended to take her Communion afterwards, but forgot to take my phone, so I couldn't call her beforehand to check if the link worked, and alert her to my visit, assuming she's in Cardiff this weekend. Last time I proposed to do this she was in London at a family funeral. Ah well, I'll be at St Paul's in a fortnight's time and can arrange to visit her after the service.

I was home by half past twelve, on time for Sunday lunch for a change. I had a message from Basma to say she's been able to watch the service. I must make sure she gets on the Zoom link mailing list. After we'd eaten I dozed in the chair for half an hour, and then my mind drifted to Haiku on the Gospel story of the Temptation of Jesus in the desert. Again, I ended up writing two linked Haikus. How to reduce it to a single one that makes sense is harder than I realised. Then I went on to write a reflection on St Joseph for the Wednesday after next. Meanwhile, Clare went over to Bristol for a study group meeting. It was gone four o'clock by the time I went out for a two hour walk around Llandaff and Pontcanna Fields. 

While I was walking a slow nose bleed started. Providentially I had a couple of spare tissues with me, and cope without making a mess on myself. I got back just before sunset, and realised that I'd failed to take my blood pressure pills, though it doesn't account for this happening. I suspect it was something to do with sleeping last night with my neck in an awkward position. I just can't get the pillows right every time, as I move about in between episodes of sleep.

Clare arrived home soon after I did, in time for supper. I spent the evening watching remaining episodes of 'Dark Hearts'. It's basically an old fashioned war action movie, set in Iraq when ISIS were on the rampage, with a fictional French Special Forces group in enemy territory. It has a cast of elite actors who do justice to an excellent fast moving script and was filmed in Morocco, giving a good account of how such a group of soldiers operate, making use of hi-tech support back in HQ. It comes to an abrupt ambiguous end which many enthusiastic reviewers of the series assumed when it first aired would lead to a series two. 

This has indeed happened and will appear some time this year in France, but maybe later on the Beeb. I wasn't surprised to see among its production team the names of those who made the eight series long 'Spiral', about Parisian crime and the Brigade Criminelle. It has the same dramatic intensity, sudden twists and turns that command attention. Although it's fictional, it has a credible authenticity about it. It portrays French soldiers at war with their own kind of camaraderie and personal relationships. This makes for a different ethos to movies about units of the SAS or US Navy Seals. Speaking of the brilliant 'SAS Rogue Heroes', the making of a third series has been announced this week, due for some time next year. 

None of these stories are easy to watch. Violence and suffering portrayed remind us of the cruel impact of conflict on victims and warriors alike. Relationships between peoples and nations break down because they cannot live at peace with their differences. Leaders fail to cope with crisis that builds up due to tension, fear and uncertainty and violence follows. The worst can happen anywhere, any time, on our own doorsteps even. It's forty five years on April 2nd since the St Paul's riots in Bristol, something I'll never forget.

Spring signs

Sunshine as well as clouds to start the day, and still mild. Clare was up well before me having breakfast having had a poor night's sleep, and she went back to bed afterwards. I wrote a fourth Lenten haiku after saying Morning Prayer. The story of Levi's call has too much in it to condense into a single verse, so I wrote two.

Trump has withdrawn Starlink satellite network access from Ukraine, on top of withdrawal of intelligence support. He says he's going to impose stronger economic sanctions on Russia as well, given that waging war has weakened the economy, to the point where it may only be able to continue aggression for another eighteen months. His aim is to force both parties to the table. European nations are rallying to increase their support, and strengthen defence capability to compensate for American policy changes. He seems to think he can bully both sides into negotiations, and ignores evidence of the continuing threat Russia poses to Europe, contrary to military opinion in the USA and Europe.  There's no sign of Russia reducing its effort to subdue Ukraine, the violence continues against civilian and military targets.

I prepared lunch, then walked in the park, and returned to cook. After an hour's armchair siesta, another walk in the park. I spotted a long tailed tit high in a tree by the river, and watched a pair of goosanders perform their courting ritual. A pleasant early spring afternoon, with carpets of daffodils and crocuses in some places.  Lots of hyacinths are flourishing among the bushes in a bed outside the cricket ground. When a small number first appeared there last week, not yet fully grown, I thought they were an odd sort of bluebell I'd never seen before. Not so!

After supper, I watched another couple of episodes of 'Dark Hearts', then finished tomorrow's sermon and printed it off. Then it was time for  bed.

World Day of Prayer from the Cook Islands

A dull overcast day, but still fairly mild, after a decent night's sleep. On 'Thought for the Day' Giles Frazer spoke about arguments - the difference between good and bad disagreement. Good disagreement is when parties with different opinions and conclusions, succeed in recognising the position taken by each other.  Bad disagreement is when one of the disputants thinks they have 'won' the argument and dismiss opposing views and those who hold them.  Some ancient rabbinic scholars would write down side by side opposing opinions about a topic and examine both to reach a truth they could agree upon. That way, losing an argument was unimportant, as truth emerged as the winner. Can this work in a world of power struggles where agreement about whether anything is true is desperately lacking?

Israel has blocked aid deliveries into Gaza for nearly a week now. The next phase of cease-fire talks is on hold. American envoys are reported to be in separate talks with Hamas. Trump is threatening Hamas about releasing the remaining 24 live hostages and 34 bodies. At a time when the resumption of hostilities can't be ruled out and desperation is growing in Gaza and the West Bank, the situation is volatile. It's hard to see how Trump's interventions are going to improve things.

Clare had a flute lesson after breakfast. I wrote a haiku based on today's Gospel reading and eventually walked down to St John's for the Lent lunch. Clare was out searching for a four wheeled shopping trolley unsuccessfully, and then she came and joined me. There was a World Day of Prayer service at two. Clare went home to rest but I stayed on for the service, prepared by women of the Cook Islands in the Pacific. Each year's service features witness statements from Christian women about their lives and concerns. 

One woman talked about childhood schooling discouraging use of Maori language, emphasising English as a replacement. For people foreign to indigenous cultures, the variety of dialects and accents spread over fifteen different islands may well have felt like a problem for western pioneers of education, so imposing English would be seen as a unifying solution regardless of what this did to people's self esteem and sense of identity. Communication between islanders doesn't seem to have been an issue for them over centuries, only for colonisers. The same happened in schooling until the mid twentieth century here in Wales. 

Britain came slowly and reluctantly to the realisation that bilingualism, even multilingualism is normal in many parts of the world where cultures mix or meet at borders. It's so tragically short sighted that a decreasing amount of money and effort is placed on foreign language learning in schools nowadays. While English is the predominant language used internationally, it won't replace indigenous languages, but be absorbed in the local patois which develops to make a statement about a place and its people, alongside both languages. Three dozen people attended, mostly women from the Ministry Area, plus a few from other local churches and a few men. 

I didn't stay for the tea and cakes which followed, as I needed to walk. I headed for Thompson's Park and walked for an hour and a half, then went home to eat a couple of dried figs and a date, as I was running out of energy, feeling light headed after a light lunch. I went out again and walked up and down Llandaff Fields, to complete today's step quota. 

After supper, I found a new series to watch called 'Dark Hearts' about a French Army Special Forces unit operating undercover in Iraq when ISIS was occupying Mosul back in 2016. It's partly in French, partly in English with a small amount of Arabic, subtitled where appropriate. It portrays the bleak modern urban townscape surrounding an ancient city established over two and a half thousand years, ruled with brutality. The battle to rid Mosul of ISIS in 2016-17 reduced its historic heart to ruins, but now its landmark buildings are being restored, and some of its dwellings. The story told is about a  mission to rescue family members of a key intelligence asset.  As well as the heroics of the soldiers, it gives a painful glimpse of urban poverty and the suffering endured by women and children caught in the firing line. Much like Gaza today.

Leisurely learning

I woke up to a blue sky and sunshine again, but cloud cover returned during the morning. The temperature is set to drop from 12C down to zero in the coming week, due to another stream of arctic air  affecting both sides of the North Atlantic. It's a such a disappointment. Yesterday afternoon I went out for a walk without needing a top coat for the first time in four months.

Clare had an early X-ray appointment at UHW and booked a taxi to take her there by eight thirty as I didn't think I could be fully functional to drive her there in rush hour traffic. No matter how well or badly I sleep, it takes me an hour or so to wake up fully. She was lucky enough to get a bus on the way home and was back by nine thirty.

Last night I was thinking about doing something for Lent other than returning to a completely vegan diet. The idea emerged to write a haiku relating to the theme or key scriptural passage of each day. It's a way of meditating on the Word, focusing on its essential meaning and summarising it, in seventeen syllables. It's a more intentional way of writing haiku than spontaneously responding to an observation or idea walking in the park. A strict way of disciplining discursive meditation.  I drafted one for Ash Wednesday in bed as I was about to go to sleep, and after reviewing it this morning, wrote another one based on the Gospel for today's Eucharist. This is something to be tackled one day at a time, learning as I go how well I am at sustaining the effort.

I made lunch early as Clare was due to go to an exercise class that started early. I cooked spaghetti with a veggie sauce and soya protein 'mincemeat', which turned out acceptably. Earlier in the week I called the University Optometrists to book my annual eye test, but was kept in a phone queue with no idea of how long I have to wait so I gave up in frustration. After lunch, my afternoon walk took me to the clinic in Cathays, via Blackweir Bridge and Colum Road. Almost all houses in Colum Road are now privately run multi occupancy student accommodation. 

A few of the houses look well cared for, but the majority have rubbish strewn ex-front gardens, plus the new generation of sorting and recycling sacks, yet to be used. It looks like an area of slum housing. One house had a skip outside with a brand new blue caddy with jars and bottles spilling out, tossed on top of bricks and soil, already broken. It's even worse at the end of the academic year when occupants vacate their rooms and throw out everything they don't need to take away, including broken furniture and electronics. This must make a bad impression on visitors to the heart of Cardiff's student-land.  

Anyway, I booked an eye appointment at the front desk of the Optometry school. The earliest available is the thirty first of March. Thankfully there's no hurry. I walked from there through the civic centre to the Kingsway, and caught a 61 bus from the Holiday Inn. I got off at the stop nearest to Cowbridge Road and walked home from there, as I realised I was nowhere near completing my daily step quota. My legs felt as if I'd done double the distance. I don't know why they should feel so stiff today. It's not as if I over-exerted myself yesterday. Physical tiredness seems to show up randomly. Some days are a real slog, others I have a spring in my step.

After supper I fancied reading something in Spanish. In the absence of a new book, I spent an hour and a half re-reading the first chapter of 'Cronica de una muerte anticipada' by Gabriel García Marqués. It was one of the first Spanish novels I read, very slowly, just about following the narrative but skipping words unless essential to the progress of the story. As I already know what it's about and how it unfolds, I can concentrate on finding the meaning and use of words I don't know. A leisurely was of learning. Then early to bed.

Lent begins

I woke up to bright sunshine just after seven, posted today's YouTube link to WhatsApp at half past, and said Morning Prayer before going down for breakfast. There were nineteen adults plus baby Sebastian at the Ash Wednesday Eucharist, and half of them stopped for coffee and a chat after the service. I collected this week's veggie bag on my way home.

Clare had already decided to make savoury pancakes for lunch as we didn't have any yesterday. On Shrove cooks traditionally used up remaining eggs milk and butter in pancake batter as preparation for the Lenten Fast. Using a vegan batter recipe doesn't defy tradition. Buckwheat flour, almond milk, oil and salt are all that's needed to produce excellent pancakes. I took charge of making the filling using onion, mushrooms, garlic and lentils. A small amount of kale and the last parsnip from the last veg bag served as a garnish both savoury and sweet. I was pleased with the result, even though it produced a lot of washing up.

I had an email from Staysure travel insurance notifying me that my annual policy would be automatically renewed in April. I wasn't aware of consenting to this, and not yet decided whether  or not I want to pay for an multi-trip annual insurance. I plan to visit Veronica in Catalunya in early May, and we're thinking about another river cruise, but would insurance for a couple of fairly short separate trips cost as much? No sign so far of any locum duty coming my way this year, which would require a multi-trip insurance, but who knows? 

I looked at my Staysure account, and decided the premium wasn't too excessive. The reason for this may be that I haven't yet reached my eightieth birthday when the insurance starts. I just hope we get to travel as I suspect insurance charges will rise next year. When I went on to confirm auto renewal, I encountered a glitch in the pop-up dialogue which meant I was unable to confirm, so I had to open a Direct Message channel with a 'bot' I guess, and waste half an hour making sure auto-renewal would happen, and my credit card debited - I didn't know their system retained my card details, or I didn't notice this when last I paid. Thinking of this led me to check on my car insurance, due at the end of April. I expected this to rise anyway, but it's not excessive, so I can afford to insure a car for another year - for better or worse.

Then I went to the shops to re-stock on various plant milks, fruit and veg. When I was about to pay at Beanfreaks, I found that I'd left my card wallet and phone at home. I'd taken out my cards to check if the right account number had been used and forgot to put them back in the same place. I had to go back home to retrieve them and start again, first Beanfreaks, then Tesco's. My very full rucksack must have weighed 7-8 kilos on the way back. Thankfully my back and legs didn't give me any trouble. The stimulus of good weather on a bright cold day makes me feel less than my age. I only needed a short walk in the park to exceed my daily step count.

After supper, I watched two fiendishly complex to follow episodes of 'Astrid - murders in Paris' and then it was bed time.