Revising Jack's story

A chilly night with a spell of heavy rain, though the sky cleared, to give another welcome sunny start to the day. An interesting 'Thought for the Day' from Mona Siddiqui, commenting on the funding crisis faced by Universities, forcing cut backs. Cardiff Uni is facing 400 job losses to make ends meet, and thinking of closing its music department with the justification that the provision of the Royal Welsh College of Music and Drama is sufficient to meet the need for music education. I disagree completely. RWCMD is practical and performance oriented. Its students may well engage in academic research in addition, but that's not the College's main purpose. 

Dr Siddiqui reminded listeners that University education wasn't just about gaining job qualifications or skills training, but an environment where people learn to think for themselves through study. She mentioned the spiritual value the Qu'ran places on reflective thought. There has to be space in society where learning for its own sake is practised to enable minds to develop, capable of independent creative and critical thinking. Or else there's a risk of humans being regarded as nothing more than programmable machines.

I spent a long time meditating after breakfast, then walked a circuit of Thompson's Park and was delighted to see big patches of yellow, blue, and white crocuses emerging since I last visited, a few days ago. Daffodil shoots cover the banks and are now six inches tall, thanks to rain and relatively mild temperatures. It won't be long before buds appear and flowers blossom. A small number of daffodils outside the stables in Pontcanna Fields are already in bloom. I spotted a little egret in one of the horse paddocks  for the first time, foraging in mud. I shouldn't be surprised really. Although their default habitat is wetland around a lake or river they will move to pasture land where grazing has broken the topsoil layer releasing insects and worms, just like the larger cattle egret. 

We had a light lunch, featuring hummus Clare improvised from half a can of butter beans and peanut butter. The flavour was quite acceptable. This prompted me to soak the remaining Greek gigantes given me by Rachel at church. I think these would also taste good in a hummus.

It's been on my mind lately to start revising the story I wrote last year about my grandfather Jack, in the light of information about him which cousin Dianne shared with me after reading the first draft. While I was out walking earlier, I was struck with an idea about an introductory paragraph which would lead into the key revised section, and got started on the new version as soon as I returned, before lunch.

I walked in Llandaff Fields afterwards and for the second time this week bumped into Richard a volunteer rubbish collector out every day in the park since he retired. He's four years younger than me. You know he's around somewhere in the park as he deposits his rubbish bags next to a bin for picking up by the Council's daily rubbish lorry. Clare first met him during lock-down, when she went for her daily walk in the park very early in the morning. I tend to see him when I'm out in the afternoon these days. He's a nature lover who loves to see the park looking the way it's meant to. A kindred spirit.

We went out to Stefano's for supper. The sky was cloudless and just above the horizon the waxing crescent moon shone brightly. Above that in an arc from west to east Venus, Saturn and Jupiter shone brightly, three of the six planets currently in alignment above us at the moment. What a rare and wonderful sight! When we got home after an enjoyable meal, I returned to revising the story and worked on it the entire evening. As a result I'm late to bed.

Marmalade time again

Lovely to wake up to a bright sunny morning and cloudless sky after a decent night's sleep. In Gaza today an additional release of a group of hostages is taking place, Hamas forced to comply with an agreement made earlier to release one remaining female civilian hostage. Another group of hostages will be released on Saturday. Eight of those remaining are now said to be dead. No list of names has been issued as far as I know. There was a delay in releasing a hundred Palestinian prisoners, as a gesture of disapproval and warning by the Israelis about today's hostage release, accompanied yet again by a defiant show of force by Hamas fighters. It's such a delicate situation with neither side trusting the other. Hundreds of thousands of people displaced by the war are returning to their homes, mostly in ruins, their land littered with bombs and ammunition that didn't explode. What happens at the end of the cease-fire is still undetermined. Will involvement by President Trump influence the outcome? We'll see.

I went out before lunch to get a couple of kilos of sugar for making marmalade, and a few other missed items on the Beanfreaks shopping list. We had mussels for lunch accompanied by millet as a change from rice. I slept for an hour before going out and walking for a hour and a half. The sky had clouded over, but it was relatively mild. When I got back, I started on preparing the oranges for marmalade making,  The batch of bitter oranges were jucier than the previous ones we used, the skins not as thick. Perhaps they weren't from Seville. After supper the marmalade was ready for bottling. It tasted as good as it was meant to. I filled the last nine jars we had in our jam jar store. 

Before turning in for the night I watched the third episode of the Gaelic drama 'The Island'  and then first episode of a Dutch crimmie called 'Sleepers' about a corrupt cop faced with international organised crime taking over from the local criminal network he colludes with. Quite a contrast in settings and stories.

Mike to the rescue

I didn't succeed in turning off completely the rising main stop cock last night, but the pressure was low enough to stop water dripping from the pipe into a bucket, as long as tap above it was left open, allowing a remaining trickle of water to exit from the sink. Clare and I both got up once in the night within minutes  of each other to check nothing had changed. When I got up at eight, Clare was phone queuing for a GP appointment, and then she started looking for a plumber. She got lucky finding Mike, as she rang him by accident, and minutes later he returned her call. 

He said he'd be with us mid-morning which meant I'd have to miss going to church, as Clare already had a surgery visit booked for eleven. Mike turned up at ten fortunately, and was on his way by ten thirty, so I was able to go late to the St Catherine's Eucharist after all. Roger arrived with a kilo box of marmalade oranges he'd bought in error, wondering if anyone could make use of them. I volunteered to take them and make a batch of marmalade. There'll be a few jars for him, and the rest can go on sale for church funds.

Clare cooked rice and stewed savoury vegetables for lunch and wanted to add a tin of salmon. Easier said than done, as both the mechanical and electrical can openers initially failed to cut into the tin, due to the oversized lip on the top of the can. A second attempt with the electric can opener held at a more acute angle penetrated the tin once it got going. I don't recall having such difficulty opening a can before, but I was spared having to dig into the top of the tin with an old school can opener and risk injury from a slip of the hand. Thank goodness cans with a pull of lid are so much more commonplace these days.

I went into town to Santander Bank to register the new PIN code for my Edge credit card as required, on one of their ATMs. It's my first trip into town since receiving the bank's letter with the new PIN before Christmas. I arrived just as the branch was closing - 3.00pm nowadays. Heaven help anyone who can't leave work in the afternoon to visit the branch. Admittedly footfall is down in live branches, as most clients use online or mobile apps these days.

I also went to John Lewis' top floor, out of curiosity to see what new tech stuff is in store. Every quarter there's a rotation of stock and discount offers. Not that I need anything extra. It seems to me from the number on the bargain shelf that the store overstocks Chromebooks, five times as many as Windows laptops. Proper cameras seem to be a thing of the past. A line of new trendy Polaroid cameras has taken over the dedicated shelves. A small number expensive lenses and DSLRs are stored under lock and key to be tracked down in store by online enquirers. Cardiff's only proper camera retailer is still in Morgan Arcade, its two rivals have closed in the past decade. Cardiff Camera Centre got into online retailing twenty years ago, and its store is an Aladdin's cave, not only of the top camera brands, but second hand stuff, both digital and film, which, like vinyl records has become a popular retro fashion. I popped in there as well to see if there was any used kit of interest, but it was all too expensive.

I took a bus back into Canton to walk home from there, and called into Beanfreaks to buy nuts and sesame seeds. I noticed a bearded man standing at the entrance to an Asian style clothes shop. I could hear him chanting quietly in a way that indicated he was reading the Qu'ran from his phone, unashamed of his piety, feeling safe to express it openly, not showing off, just being himself. I like that. It's Ramadan after all.

A couple of years ago I gave Owain a small format HP Windows 10 PC with a terabyte hard drive to archive his audio files. It was a bit slow and had a sealed case, which meant it was impossible to swap the hard disk for a faster solid state drive, so I replaced it with the Dell which I have now converted to run Linux Mint. He never got around to using this, and now has the much faster Windows 11 Dell to use, so he gave it back to me. It still works, but won't upgrade to Windows 11 anyway. Out of curiosity I used my bootable USB Linux version to see how it would run, and was pleased to find it ran so smoothly. I'm not sure how I will make use of it however, but converting it to Linux will ensure it has a future. 

There's a photo management app called Digicam for Linux which I found useful in times past. I've now added that to my workstation. There's one more app I need to install for managing music files,  but I don't recall the name of the one I used before, but that can wait for the moment. My workstation has a working sound card, but I need to be able to relay the signal to the hi-fi kit in my study to amplify the sound. I'm not sure if I did this in times past, and need to investigate if there's an input line I can use. Now I'm not so busy with church affairs, I have more time to devote to tech' tinkering, and sorting out my study. At last!

After supper, I spent the evening reading 'Una Muerta Imperfecta', by J J Fernandez, which I started yesterday evening, before it became obvious where the water leak was located. Fernandez is a Valenciano who lived in Britain. His story is set in Britain, and unusually is narrated by a female protagonist, who is dissatisfied with police accounts of her uncle's unusual demise, and starts investigating herself. It has quite a different narrative style to that of Carlos Ruis Zafón, leaner more colloquial, and for me at least, it's easier to follow. Checking the meaning of words for clarity's sake is more worthwhile. Zafón's work seems padded out with descriptive words adding no more than an extra touch of atmosphere to the narrative. They are guessable, but also skippable to get to the point where the action continues. Reading a story in Spanish is good exercise for the mind, and an enjoyable alternative to watching telly or streamed series.

From phantom drip to leak

A day of sunshine and showers. I had some housework to catch up on after being out yesterday. Clare's study group came for a session after breakfast. As they were quiet, sitting around the middle room table, I  recorded and edited next week's Morning Prayer and Reflection. We had an early snack lunch afterwards, then I drove Clare to her UHW eye appointment at one thirty. 

Then I visited Tourotech and ask Davey about the anomalous startup time for Owain's Dell Optiplex. He thinks it may be something to do with the CMOS battery getting run down, maybe needing replacement. The BIOS isn't holding the date at the moment, but Windows 11 boots up with the correct time once it attaches to the internet. The BIOS clock can be set correctly on boot-up, then checked for accuracy every few days. I have similar issues with my Windows Visa driven Acer, bought sixteen years ago. It led to new files being dated incorrectly, so checking BIOS date and time could matter.

Then I went to the Coop to buy some chicken and veg. On my way home I noticed some interesting looking paintings on show in Oriel Canfas, and went in to take a look. Anthony Evans, the artist was there, looking after the gallery, and I had in interesting chat with him. The paintings that caught my eye were made on Bardsey Island, during a recent spell as resident artist there. What a delight.

 I took the shopping home, then went for a walk in the park. It was quite mild for the time of year at 9C, and I was home well before sunset. Clare walked back from UHW after a wait of over two hours to be examined and coming away with no idea of what change if any there has been in her eye condition. How frustrating! I cooked supper early, and it was ready to serve when she arrived home after dark.

I spent the evening with the Imagination app on my Linux workstation, making next week's Morning Prayer video and uploading it to YouTube. It wasn't hard to learn but more limited than the Windows Photos Legacy app I'm used to working with on Windows. It only exports VOB video files which need to be converted to MP4 format to display on mobile devices, it seems. It accepts MP3 audio for the soundtrack, but when it comes to previewing and working out the right timing for each slide, the playback isn't as easy to control as Photos Legacy. It is however quicker in other respects, because it's not a Cloud app, but based on the computer, and that makes it quick and smooth to operate. It means I could make a slideshow video off-line if my Windows laptop wasn't working, or Microsoft decided to remove Photos Legacy to force user on to the newer Clipchamp, which is far too sophisticated for such a simple straightforward task as making a slideshow.

Jordanian helicopters have started flying aid into Gaza today, and BBC reporter Fergal Keane was the first foreign journalist to be allowed to visit the Strip since the war began. Will any reporters be allowed in across the Israeli border I wonder. Fighting has broken out in the Congo, where a rebel militia backed by neighbouring Rwanda has invaded Goma, the city region which housed a million Rwandan refugees from the genocide there thirty years ago. It seems that control of the rich mineral resources in Eastern Congo is what's a stake. So much for Tory assurances that Rwanda was a suitably safe place to process asylum seekers deported from Britain.

Fireworks in the air this evening, marking the eve of the Ramadan fast. When I went into the big Tesco Extra yesterday on my way back from Bristol, I noticed there was a long aisle of shelves dedicated to Ramadan and Eid al Fitr purchases. I didn't bother to check what was on sale, but I guess it might be treats for the evening's iftar fast breaking meal. 

There's been a strange dripping sound in the bathroom today, but it was impossible to work out where it was coming from, as it sounded like it was emanating from the bath plug hole. As Clare was getting ready for bed she noticed the sound of dripping was louder, and there was a patch of water underneath the sink. Then she noticed a long damp path along a beam probably, in the kitchen beneath. Most of the water dripping somewhat slower during the day had leaked behind a fascia covering water and drain pipes, and then on to a bean below. All that could be done was to shut the rising main tap downstairs and drain the pipes above. Slowly the dripping came to a halt. I think a crack has developed in a bend of the pipe leading up to the cold tap. We'll need to call in a plumber tomorrow. Meanwhile I collected about ten litres of water to use tomorrow, and we won't need to get up in the night to empty a bucket.

Computer delivered

Holocaust Memorial Day with the Chief Rabbi on 'Thought for the Day', and an array of witness stories in several programmes on Radio, and probably TV as well. A ceremony of remembrance in Auschwitz attended by King Charles as well as other international leaders, broadcast live on radio.

A day of wind and rain threatened, but it didn't turn out like that. It was mild and sunny all morning which was a blessing, as I'd arranged to home deliver Owain's new Dell Inspiron desktop computer. First, Clare needed dropping off at UHW for an eye test prior to another appointment tomorrow, then I could continue to Bristol, with the computer held safe in the back seat with cushions padding a seat belt. 

Listening to Radio 3 while travelling, I became aware that 'Composer of the Week' programmes for this week are showcasing Jewish composers murdered during the Holocaust, six of them altogether. It's taken decades for some of their compositions to come to light, as they were hidden away when persecution started, often disguised as non Jewish work to avoid being destroyed by Nazi 'cultural' activists.

Although there were lane restrictions on the Severn crossing, it wasn't too busy and traffic flowed freely. I arrived around eleven thirty. Setting up the computer took a while as Owain needed to reactivate a Microsoft account he hadn't needed to use for years a very fiddly process. The Dell behaved unusually on powering up, as it did for me yesterday. A delay of more than five minutes before initiating the self-test regime, but then booting to desktop in about a minute. It's consistent, there has to be a reason for this. I need to find out and let Owain know.

Owain cooked a spicy fish soup for lunch. While we were eating the sun disappeared behind rain clouds and a downpour began. It didn't last long, so we went out and walked a circuit of Greenbank Cemetery. It covers a large area of hillside in the middle of a district of working class terraced houses. It's seldom used for burials now, many of its graves are overgrown and headstones are no longer upright. It's minimally managed to ensure public safety and largely left to re-wild itself, a haven for birds, flowers, butterflies and other insects. I noticed that it was fairly free of litter. It may be that neighbourhood groups help look after their local green oasis.

I set out for home after our walk, and soon enough the rain returned. Again I was fortunate that the traffic flow was good. I reached home at five, and despite the rain went straight out for a couple of circuits of Thompson's Park in the dark, in order to relax after the trip. After supper, this week's double episode of 'Silent Witness' on iPlayer. A tense drama of deadly sickness on an international flight, with the best part of two hours spent finding out it was a contact poisoning driven by outrage over toxic emissions, not even a political assassination attempt. 

Imagination - the app

It rained in the night and it persisted until mid afternoon, so we're under miserable low cloud again today. The Sunday Worship slot on BBC was devoted to the 80th anniversary of the Liberation of Auschwitz, led by Rabbi Jonathan Wittenberg with his journalist nephew Daniel and his son his son Amos, a Synagogue cantor. They told stories of family members killed during the Holocaust and we heard some of the chants and prayers in remembrance of the dead, ending with the Kiddush table blessing prayer. The Rabbi is an occasional contributor to 'Thought for the Day'. It's rare for Sunday worship to be led by a non Christian, but since tomorrow is Holocaust Memorial Day, this is an appropriate and welcome offering.

I drove to St Paul's in Grangetown to celebrate Mass. despite the bad weather, only a few regulars were absent. We were eighteen adults and five children. Today we kept yesterday's feast of the Conversion of St Paul the church's Patronal Festival. The readings for the day didn't include this story but after Communion a short video clip summarising the story in a cartoon format was streamed on the video display. This took me by surprise as I hadn't been warned, but the Sunday School children had just arrived for their end of service debriefing, so it fitted in very nicely.

I got home early, to find Clare so absorbed in practising her flute, she'd forgotten to start cooking what she prepared before going to church. Even so, we sat down to a cooked meal at one o'clock as usual. I'd been listening in the car to a Radio 3 interview with the master French chef Raymond Blanc, reflecting on his life in cooking and his favourite selection of music, so we listened together to the second half of the programme. Unlike Desert Island discs, music chosen for the 'Private Passions' programme is played in full, with fewer pieces selected. The conversation was engaging and deep. 

It seems the young Raymond had no idea of what he wanted to do with his life when he left school, until one day he was passing a luxury hotel in his native Besançon, and fell in love with what he saw from the outside - the furnishing, design, smart uniforms and impeccably clean and fresh environment. He decided it was where he wanted to be, and started work there as a cleaner, then a dish washer, then a veg preparer. He succeeded in offending the chef and was sacked, and somehow ended up in Britain, working his way up as a waiter, learning English and adding to what he'd learned about cooking from Maman at home. A great story of learning by doing, striving for excellence in everything, and a vocation discovered through finding out where he wanted to spend his working life. When it comes to vocation, the place your heart is drawn to can help you discover what you're meant to be doing with your life.

I walked in the park for just over an hour, to be back at home to welcome our friend Marc. Clare asked him to re-string a violin her grandfather made, but was going to be out when he proposed to come as she'd decided to go to the Unity Week service at St Catherine's at four. Mark and I had tea and cake while we waited for her to return, and was ready to proceed by the time she got back from church. It's important for Marc to explain to Clare each step of preparing the violin and stringing it. It's such a sensitive instrument that there's an ideal way of going about the and less ideal ways. Good to learn from an experienced master of stringed instruments. 

When Marc left, I added a new app I'd found to my Linux desktop workstation. 'Imagination' is a dedicated slideshow maker, with a simple working interface once you identify images and sound track you want to use. It's not as fancy looking as the Windows once I've used for the past four years, but works faster and isn't cloud dependent.

After supper with 'Call the Midwife' on the telly in the background, I started work on next week's Wednesday Morning Prayer and Reflection as there was nothing I fancied watching online. Recording this must wait until tomorrow. Having learned how to use 'Imagination', I'll be able to give it a full test tomorrow. And now bed.

Famous last words yesterday

Under a clear sky the air temperature went down to minus one last night, but it was good to wake up late to sunny day. After breakfast I revised my sermon and then went to print it, only to discover that the fancy desktop interface wouldn't communicate with the printer despite my confidence that it would 'just work' yesterday. Too confident. I didn't print a test page, though it was late in the day. In times past the Linux HP software package has worked when persuading the printer to work with previous Linux devices, so I added this to my computer's app repository, the correct printer driver installed itself and then it worked. A few anxious and annoyed moments on the way there, but all should be well in future.

Good to hear that the exchange of hostages in Gaza and release Palestinians detained in Israeli prisons has proceeded smoothly this morning. Civilian female hostages were meant to have been released before any members of the military, and Netanyahu is complaining about this. From the Hamas perspective releasing military personnel early eases pressure on their captors. Soldiers are trained to observe and remember. In a changing situation, the may take in additional useful information to feed back to Israeli intelligence still focused on eliminating Hamas. A complex information game within a war. Gaza Palestinians are allowed to return to their homes at the moment, but no journalists are allowed into the Strip to tell stories about the victims of this conflict. The more Netanyahu's government attempts to control the narrative, the less their version will be deemed trustworthy. Do they not realise this? Or is it that they don't care because 'might is right' in their eyes.

Clare went out for a walk while I was troubleshooting the printer, so I cooked lunch, including pressure cooking a couple of gammon steaks in apple juice with cloves, while Clare had another portion of fish pie. This method of cooking worked well, and gave me two meals worth of succulent cooked meat.

After lunch I went out for a walk, while Clare was having a siesta. Then we caught up with each other in Llandaff Fields and walked a circuit together. I then went up to the top of Thompson's Park as the sun was setting and took a few photos.

I spent the evening reading the last third of 'Las luces de Septiembre'. It's quite a good supernatural story, with a teenage adventure romance developing throughout which doesn't come to a conclusion as part of the story, but promises to in an epilogue dated ten years after. The book is one of a series of novels Zafón wrote for teenagers which launched his career because grown-ups read them too. I don't think it's his best in this series. Scary and horrific sequences are too long. It's not just a matter of an Hispanic storytelling style being rather verbose. That's fine when it's entertaining, but if it adds nothing to build up of tension in the narrative when you find yourself saying - for heaven's sake get on with it man - it would benefit from an editor being cruel to be kind.  My next Spanish read is something different. A crime novel. Kath's Christmas present, but that's for another day. It's bed time already.

Printer just works!

Awake again in time for 'Thought for the Day'. Good to have that consistency, even if my bed time hours vary along with night time wakefulness, but averaging over seven and a quarter hours sleep seems to work in my favour. Light cloud, but not overcast, and no strong winds. 

After breakfast, thinking about Sunday's  sermon, I realised I'd not yet installed my office HP lazer printer software on my Linux workstation, so I powered up the printer, then booted up the computer, expecting to delve into a software repository to find printer drivers. To my surprise, the computer recognised the printer automatically, there was nothing else to do. When I think of times past, on Windows and Linux driven machines, the time needed to install printer software, and reinstall a different version when a new operating system came along, this is most welcome. A lot of improvement has taken place in terms of ease of use in the past ten years. It used to be a fiddle to persuade a Chromebook to attach to any printer, now it's utterly simple. What everyone needs.

I spent the morning actually writing the sermon. It's St Paul's Patronal Festival weekend, though readings for Epiphany 3 will be used. Fortunately they are quite suitable for the occasion. Clare made a fish pie for lunch and I prepared the veggies for cooking. I still had more work to do on the sermon after lunch, also a few more downloads of photo albums for transfer to hard drive storage in order to free up space in Google photos and avoid nags about running out of space. Then I went for a walk up the Gabalfa side of the Taff trail as far as the Llandaff North road bridge, and returned home through Llandaff village and the Fields as the sun set.

After supper I had a long catch-up conversation with Ashley, who's been out of circulation due to illness and misfortune for the past year, but he's now recovering. Then I watched an episode of 'Greyzone' which made me think I've seen it before. It dates from 2018, and when I checked the series Wikpedia I found it was first aired on Channel 4's Walter Presents early in 2019.

Another round of hostage releases in Gaza tomorrow, four women have been named. 200 Palestinian prisoners will also be set free, though their names are yet to be released. So far the ceasefire is holding, thank God. Friday prayers were held today in the ruins of Gaza's main Al Omari mosque, the floor space cleared and decked with an assortment of carpets in the short video clip I saw. The world waits to see what will happen at the end of the six week pause in fighting, with no idea of what will happen next.

Communications feedback

After breakfast this morning I drove Clare to the Dunelm Mill superstore on Newport Road, to buy a special between-the-knees pillow to help avoid hip joint pain when lying in bed. As soon as we left the house there was a heavy downpour of rain. There was traffic chaos at the junction of Cathedral and Cowbridge Road East, due to a collision which slowed down traffic in all directions. 

Things got complicated when I received a call from TalkTalk's complaints department while driving. I had to ask for a call back later. This came in while I was entering the store's car park, so I had to defer the call a second time. Third time lucky, we were sitting in the store cafe having a drink. The call was a follow up on our broadband outage before Christmas. I wanted to feed back to the support team about the help desk. The line quality on a mobile phone from the help desk the other side of the world, was poor, the operative spoke too fact with an unfamiliar sounding accent. This made the diagnostic process more difficult and less efficient, as I had to repeat questions and ask for answers to be repeated when I didn't understand. 

The trouble shooting process took 45 minutes, twice as long as it needed to as a result. In fact the operative redirected me to the Direct Message channel for completion. When I had a repeat outage a day later, I just used the Direct Message channel, but this also took 45 minutes with all they typing involved and waits for a response. It must be especially difficult for a person calling on an audio landline with no access to a  smartphone or computer if the help line operative is hard to understand. Anyway, point taken, and my coffee was cool enough to drink when I rejoined Clare. We drove home by a different route to avoid city centre gridlock. The rain stopped, the clouds parted and the sun shone by the time we had lunch. 

Google keeps reminding me my free account storage is more than half full, in the hope that I'll be willing to rent more space. I have no intention of doing this. Occasionally, I check what photo albums I keep in a specific account, then download an album to keep on a spare hard drive, if I see no need to keep that set of photos ready to display. I set out to do this after we'd eaten, and found that I couldn't achieve deletion of photos in an album (and then delete the empty album) as there'd been a change of interface. It took me a couple of hours to find out that I now have to go into the timeline of photos in the cloud in order to locate and delete them and then delete them from the deleted bin. It was much easier previously. 

I can imagine users being daunted by this rigmarole and ending up paying for extra storage they don't need. A cunning way to milk users of cash. The use of info about account holders is a massive income generator already. That's what comes from offering free accounts and data storage in the first place. Microsoft does the same. Windows eagerly reminds users to synchronise all their data to One Drive, and it's not easy to prevent this happening by default, Microsoft presumes everyone must want to, but there's a vested interest embedded in this, as the company's AI bots learn everything about users and exploit this to think for you and suggest what you should do - slow steps to enslavement - in my opinion.

We went out for a walk after lunch. There was no return of the morning's rain, it was just cold and windy. Dangerously high winds are threatened for places further north. It looks as if we'll miss out down south however. As ever these days, I needed to walk further than Clare. Her arthritic hip is imposing imitations on her walking, but she doesn't give up! She went out again after supper to sing in a community choir that rehearses in Canton Uniting Church. For me it was time to give some thought about my Sunday sermon. I worked on that for an hour, and then found a new euro thriller series on ITVX in Swedish, Danish, German and English to watch for an hour before bed.

Goodbye Windows 10, welcome Linux Mint 22

Awake and posting today's YouTube Morning Prayer link to Parish WhatsApp just before 'Thought for the Day' in which Paula Gooder spoke about Don Cupitt, controversial philosophical theologian, who has just died aged 90, man who asked questions which certainly rattled the cage of conservative traditionalists who think the have all the answers to questions of faith. He was labelled 'the atheist priest', for exposing the weakness of theism as a way of thinking about as inherited by traditional Christianity. I admit that what he wrote was too much like hard work for me, though the proposition that Christ's disciples should seek the divine above and beyond all accepted concepts of God, wasn't new to me from my own encounters with Eastern Orthodox mystical spirituality, the idea that the divine is unlike anything else in our experience, so we cannot say God is like this or that. We don't know. Unknowing is where we start seeking, desire and ardent longing is all we have. "we go by night, with only our thirst to light the way" as Sta Teresa said.

I went to the Eucharist at St Catherine's. We were ten this morning, including baby Seb, who gives a lot of pleasure to the grandparents who comprise the majority of the congregation. I picked up the veggie bag on the way home, and shared cooking lunch with Clare. I slept for over an hour after lunch, and then went for a circuit of the parks. It was cold, but late afternoon sunshine and clouds coloured by the sun as it reached the horizon were an added pleasure.

After supper, I installed Linux Mint 22.1 on my desktop workstation. It took about a quarter of an hour. Updating took longer. I needed to install Chrome and Audacity as a first step to my normal desktop apps. Transferring Chrome's bookmarks and passwords was more fiddly than I recall, and then my documents, which took somewhat longer. I decided which photo and video editors to use and installed them. As the workstation is fairly powerful, it'll be possible to use apps I've not bothered with before. There are new things to learn ahead, but for most everyday tasks, I'm up and running already. This new version of Mint is quick and good to look at. At last I'm free from Windows nags and forced hardware redundancy. Getting it all shipshape took less than three hours in total. Time for bed now.

Celtic pride

After breakfast this morning, Clare went off to her study group in Penarth. I finished transferring all the data from my desktop workstation, but didn't get around to installing Linux Mint. I went out and walked in Llandaff Fields for an hour, where I saw a Jay in a location where I hadn't seen one before. Then I returned and cooked lunch in time for Clare's return.

After lunch, I went out for another walk down to the river. It was cold and although cloudy, it was brighter than yesterday. I saw a pair of parakeets flying over Llanfair road on my way back, so they are surviving the winter here.

I received a notification to renew my registration on the database of the Disclosure and Barring Service as a volunteer with enhanced accreditation. It's required of retired clergy needing to hold a PTO, something that comes around annually. It's been in place for five years now, and is the go-to place for organisations wanting to check if I have a police record. Renewing registration is easy fortunately, easier than having to re-register if you forget to renew.

After supper I worked on next week's Morning Prayer and Reflection, then watched a new Scottish Gaelic crimmie with subtitles set on the Isle of Harris, and called An t-Eilean or The Island in English. This is a new line of drama for BBC Alba, the Gaelic channel of BBC Scotland's output. Bilingual Welsh crimmies have been around with great success for a decade, likewise Irish crimmies, as I discovered recently. Both take advantage of stunning scenery and bleak landscapes, and now Scotland! Good story telling too. Britain's Celtic Fringe has a lot to be proud of. It's lovely to hear our native languages being used as they naturally would be, swapping to English naturally mid-sentence, as can be heard around the streets and cafes of Poncanna these days.

Bargain hunted

I woke up as Thought for the Day was about to start, on an overcast grey day. The eight o'clock news was all about the Gaza cease-fire and Trump's presidential inauguration. Heaven help us, on both accounts.

Clare had a flute lesson after breakfast, so housework had to be postponed until later. I killed time by watching the final episode of 'Blackwater', not something I'd normally do after saying Morning Prayer. 

I didn't think the story could get any more complex than it did in the last episode. All in all, an interesting portrayal of life in the seventies and nineties with hippy communes and eco-idealism before green politics. In terms of the unsolved crime around which the story is told, it turns out that several individuals have a hand in perverting the course of justice. It's noteworthy that a rural GP rather than distrusted police who solves a mystery in which several tragedies are compounded. A bit like a Greek drama. 

I was struck by the social divisions exposed between rural poor Lapps, Sami and Swedes. not to mention the Finnish speaking minority in Sweden. I was already aware of social and cultural differences between Norwegians and Swedes, but this gave me another insight into the complexity of Scandinavian rural identity back in a time when life wasn't as homogenised by the internet, urbanisation and industrialisation.

The dramatic role in the story played by peregrine falcons in the wilderness or 'peregrims' as one character calls them, as harbingers of doom, was potent but a little confusing given that wild bird egg theft leads to  murder. But perhaps that would be clearer to a Swede than an urban foreigner. I think the story could have been told more succintly. Flashbacks across 20 years were adequately labelled, but adjusting to the change in appearance of ageing characters required effort. At the end of the last episode a promotion for the next showing of 'Astrid - Murders in Paris' revealed that it's a repeat of series three, nothing new.

Once the housework done, we shared in making lunch. Then I went out for a walk in Pontcanna Fields, but ended up walking into Canton and visiting Tourotec to see if there were any tech bargains to be had. Indeed there was one. I had promised Owain that I would keep an eye out for a Dell Optiplex All in One Desktop computer, which he wants for a media centre - serving as a telly or music and video streaming platform and as a home computer if needs be. I called him to confirm I had the right model, then bought it for him. The hard bit was carrying it home, as it was quite heavy. Then I went for a circuit of Thompsons Park at sunset to complete my step quota.

With Windows 10 coming to the end of its support life later this year, older hardware makes upgrading to Windows 11 impossible. This affects 450 million devices, a nightmare for those who can't afford new kit, and for electronic waste disposal for companies that can and must afford it. So irresponsible. I have decided at last that it's time to replace Windows 10 with Linux Mint's latest version on my desktop workstation. To this end I downloaded Mint 22, and made a bootable flash drive of the ISO to test on the workstation. It took me a while to recall the routine, but the tryout version worked well and looks very good indeed. 

I spent the evening backing up all the data ready to do the installation. It took a crazy amount of time, although the data is on the machine, Windows insists on forcibly synchronising data with OneDrive before copying it to an external hard drive, and with 20,000 files, that's a slow process. 

While I waited for the process to finish, I watched both parts of this week's episode of 'Silent Witness' and theen went to bed.

Celebrating Nicea 1700

As forewarned last night the Gaza cease-fire and hostage exchange agreement didn't start on time this morning, delayed by nearly three hours until the names of Israelis for release to the Red Cross, acting as intermediaries, were confirmed by Hamas. Several more people were killed during the delay as the Israeli  Israel military continued its merciless onslaught. It is going to be touch and go like this every day as long as the cease fire ends? And what happens then? Will the violence resume? There seems to be no future plan under active consideration at the moment.

Sunday Worship on Radio 4 celebrated the 1700th anniversary of the adoption of the Nicene Creed on this second day of the Week of Prayer for Christian Unity. Christians of all traditions in the Holy Land, Syria and Lebanon are united more by suffering and persecution than by historical issues that used to divide them these days.

I celebrated Mass with twenty adults and four children at St Paul's Grangetown again. We were without an organist this morning, and had to rely on digital hymns, apart from parts that can be sung unaccompanied. It's difficult to maintain the brisk pace of some hymns, and the break between verses is inflexibly set, and this makes it difficult to sing along with. The pitch can sometimes be unsuitable for the average range of voices, with different musical versions existing in alternative keys. Congregations that are quite good and confident about singing with a live musician sing nervously with a digital device. Is it accompanying them or are they accompanying it? It's a hazard of locum duty which I dread.

I was home for lunch by a quarter to one, as St Paul's is only twenty minutes drive away, and the traffic flow is much lighter. After eating I slept in my arm chair for an hour. Clare went out before me to walk to  Tesco Extra on Western Avenue. On leaving the house I found the parking space outside the house was empty, though the entire length of the street had been occupied when I returned home, and I was obliged to park on Llanfair Road instead. I promptly retrieved the car and filled the empty space. I prefer to see the car rather than have to rack my brains to recall wherever I left it - who doesn't. 

Parking on the weekend is getting more difficult, with people driving larger sized cars and often parking them badly, reducing the number of available spaces. If we're obliged to buy parking permits this will make no difference to the problem, as I pointed out to the Council's recent consultation on local parking. The parking enforcement scheme is already failing, traffic warden patrols are infrequent, and rotting leaves cover up double yellow lines. Anyone parking over them can object and avoid fines on the grounds that they aren't visible.

I caught up with Clare at Tesco's, and we had a drink in the store's Costa cafe, but we only had a quarter of an hour before the store closed, then we walked home as the sun was setting. As I hadn't walked my daily step quota, I went out again and did a circuit of Thompson's Park in the dark. It was good to hear that the Gaza cease-fire has now started, although it's very fragile with each side hating and distrusting the other with the threat of war continuing when the hostage exchange is complete.

The Swedish crimmie I've been watching is called Blackwater. It's set in a place called Stjanberg, in the mountainous north of Sweden, in a place that  exist, as I found out when I searched for it on Google Maps and was offered several different locations with variations on the place name in the southern central part of Sweden. I discussed this with Sara who found this out. I spent the evening watching three more episodes. It's difficult to get into because it's set in the same place twenty years apart with different sets of actors, I think, as the ageing of characters (not to mention sizing) would be difficult to achieve, although I may be wrong about that. It's slow moving and pretty explicit in portraying a commune of drop-outs where total candour and 'free love' are accepted. The story could have been told in an episode less without the lengthy shagging scenes which don't add much to the story that isn't covered by dialogue anyway. Not impressed.

Waiting for the violence to stop

My sister June is 90 today. I sent her a mini video greeting over WhatsApp, using the recording we made with Rachel two days ago. After a good night's sleep, I took a turn cooking the breakfast pancakes, then spent the morning preparing a sermon for tomorrow's Eucharist, and cooked lunch rather late. Clare had gone out food shopping but fortunately was late returning. 

After we'd eaten, I went out and walked in the park under a grey sky for a couple of hours, returning just after sunset. Before supper, I watched the last in the 'Patience' series, recognising another story-line from the Astrid series, but aware of it needing to be adapted as a British police investigation, as procedures don't work in same way here. I think the lead actor Ella Maisie Purvis has grown in the role over the series. It's a pity there weren't any home grown mysteries investigated. I wonder if there'll be another series? It does depend on the size and response of the viewing audience, regardless of the media hype.

The news is full of reports and speculations about the Gaza ceasefire and hostage release. The deal is done and ratified by parliament, but Netanyahu is still prepared to hold up the process unless a list of hostage names is produced in advance. It's known that some of the hostages released will be in body bags, having died in captivity, but not how many of the thirty three agreed for release, but it's not known who is dead or alive. This is cruel and cynical, a last ditch effort by Hamas to show it still has power over Israel, no matter at what cost to innocent Palestinian victims. Israeli air raids are still happening, even though these may lead to hostages dying needlessly. Also cruel and cynical. 

After supper I found and watched a Swedish crimmie set in the rural hinterland in the 1970s and '90s. It's a great excuse for movie makers to use classic cars of the different decades, as well as domestic furniture and appliances. The trouble is, the cars look immaculately polished in countryside without metalled roads, no dust on them, no dents. An unusual requirement, suspending disbelief! 

Rachel rang this evening, to say her journey home had gone well and that she'd slept well. Then, a sermon to print out, and bed.

Tracking Rachel's return

My alarm clock woke me up at six twenty and got me out of bed. Rachel followed ten minutes later, and we were out of the house walking to the coach station in the dark by a quarter to seven. We got there at ten past, just as the airport coach was arriving to pick up passengers. We parted company and I headed home before the coach left, with the first signs of early light appearing on the eastern horizon and the waning moon behind a thin veil of cloud still high in the sky. It's now a twenty five minute walk to the coach station. That's five minutes longer than it took before I pulled upper quad muscles in both legs. At least they still work, but not as efficiently as they used to.

Rather than go back to bed, I sat in my arm chair, listened to 'Thought for the Day', then slept for another hour and had breakfast when Clare got up. 

I received an email from Fr Dean booking me for another five Sunday Masses at St Paul's Grangetown. Their new priest in charge should be in post by the end of March. I'm glad to be occupied in ministry on a Sunday, albeit not every Sunday. It's good to have occasions to be on the receiving end as well as giving.

I worked on next week's Reflection, recorded it before lunch and edited it later. After lunch, shopping for groceries while Clare went into town. Then a walk in the park. Cloudy today rather than misty and not as cold as yesterday, and I was home before sunset with my daily step quota completed, plus a little extra, despite such an early start to the day.

According to Flight Tracker 24, Rachel's return journey started on time, and took the westward route across South Wales while I was out walking. Needless to say I was thinking of her. Last weekend she and I were walking past the stables. I showed her where snowdrops were proliferating and a few clumps of daffodils were producing long shoots with buds on. She spotted one stem which had snapped near the root, picked it up, brought it home and put it in a glass of water. Three days later the rescued bud blossomed and flourished. Seeing it flowering this morning, knowing she'd arrived at Heathrow with a four hour wait for her flight, reminded me of her special gift for healing and nurturing new life. We miss her, being so far away from us.

Before supper I recorded and edited the complete audio for next week's Morning Prayer, then afterwards made the video slideshow and uploaded it to YouTube. The rest of the evening I spent watching a couple of episodes of 'Patience' with familiar crime stories from the 'Astrid' series. An advert for the return of another series of 'Astrid' starting next Friday popped up among other programme ads. Curious timing, as the first English rendering of half a dozen episodes is still running. Unless this is a repeat of series shown over a year ago, it'll be series four, another eight episodes. We'll see. 

A quick check on Flight Tracker 24 before bed showed Rachel's flight about to cross the Canadian-US border heading south west to Arizona, with just under three hours to go before touchdown at the end of a ten and a quarter hour flight. It's marvellous to be able to follow it on a live map on a phone. Somehow it makes her departure less of a wrench.

More music making

A taxi arrived at eight thirty this morning to take Rachel for an early hairdo appointment with Chris over in his Rumney salon. It was foggy, and too early for me to be awake enough to drive in commuter traffic. 

I went for a walk in the fog mid-morning and was delighted to see at least three families of pied wagtails in different locations around Llandaff Fields. They seem to like foraging for insects on tarmac'd surfaces, flying to and from the grass, whether for refuge or seeking food. It's good to see the population maintained over such an odd winter - so  much rain and wind, cold spells but never frosty for long. And now, a cold  damp day of fog.

Rachel returned from her appointment with Chris looking lovely after he'd worked his hairdressing magic on her. We started working on an arrangement of 'Happy Birthday' to record for my sister June's 90th this Saturday with Rachel on Grandpa's 'cello, me on guitar and all three of us singing together. Then Marc and Fran arrived for lunch, followed by a music making session. Marc tried out both my guitars and the violin made by Clare's grandfather. She's decided she wants to resume learning the fiddle as well as the flute and sought Marc's advice about getting started again. That was the reason for the lunch date. It was a lovely coincidence that Rachel was here with us. Marc was a session musician on the album Rachel recorded 25 years ago. Just for pleasure, they played together and recorded a video of a song she wrote some time ago.  Marc played Clare's violin and Rachel played my Tatay guitar. I just videoed them playing on Rachel's iPhone and now it's posted on her YouTube channel.

After Fran and Mark took their leave of us, we walked in the park for an hour, then Rachel checked in for tomorrow's flight and I printed her boarding pass. We recorded ourselves singing and playing 'Happy Birthday', adding a second 'cello track to give it a richer sound. It was an experiment and a useful learning experience with Audacity editing, worth the effort, even if it did take extra time. Rachel played Grandpa's 'cello fondly, duetting with Clare on flute while I was finishing the birthday MP3. She has an early bus in the morning, so it's early to bed for us again tonight. 

Friends reunited

Rachel received a message this morning from Emma, a school friend she hasn't seen in twenty five years. Emma has recently moved to Porth, so Rachel arranged to visit her at lunchtime, and took the 122 bus from outside the Halfway pub on Penhill Road, all the way there, and only returned at sunset.

I went to the Eucharist at St Catherine's - there were ten of us today. Another Rachel and her baby Seb were back in church this morning after a visit to New Zealand for a family celebration. It was interesting to see how Seb has developed physically in the month since he was last in church. I collected the week's veggie bag on my way home. Clare was out, so I had lunch on my own, then worked on a reflection for next week's Morning Prayer before going for a walk.

Having worked out when Rachel's return bus would arrive, I aimed to get to the bus stop to greet her on my return leg. Clare was there already sitting in the shelter waiting. But we waited and waited, and the bus was twenty five minutes late. Clare started to get cold and went home before me. The bus came and went without Rachel getting off, so I went home and started to worry. We couldn't contact her as her phone doesn't have a UK mobile SIM card in it. She arrived home before me, having decided to get off at the stop before the one where I was waiting!

After supper I spent the evening writing, helping Rachel book her return coach to Heathrow early Friday, and printing her ticket. We'll be sad to see her go.

Ystrad Mynach revisited

I got up at the same time as Owain this morning, saw him leave for work at half past eight and then had breakfast. Rachel and Clare went out shopping, and I started work on next week's Morning Prayer, which falls in Christian Unity week, so I had to think about adapting the texts for the day to reflect the occasion.

Rachel asked if I could take her to Ystrad Mynach, as she wanted to see the street where I was born and bred, so we drove there mid morning, and I told her stories about the family and life in a mining village as we went from place to place. We visited the site of Penallta colliery, as well as Glen View. In the fifty years since the family house was sold the street has undergone many changes. Most noticeable is the lack of chimney stacks that used to ventilate coal fires. Almost all have been taken down and it's surprising how different the houses took to the way I remember them - all double glazed, posh front doors, front gardens paved over, populated with pots. Since my last visit about five years ago, the new area hospital has been completed and is operational. This has led to a boost in the local economy. Many shops have been spruced up, empty shops are now filled with new businesses. There's more traffic in and around the town, and changes in street layout reflect this. Next time I visit, I'll go by train, take my time and walk around for a few hours rather than go by car.

In the news, the Israeli government and Hamas have announced that they are very close to agreeing the details of a cease-fire deal which includes exchange of hostages and Palestinian prisoners. The aim seems to be to get the process started before Trump's presidential inauguration, to forestall what could be a very disruptive intervention of an unknown nature on his part. A report from independent research into the Gaza death toll puts the figure of lives lost at closer to sixty thousand, a third more than the Gaza health ministry has consistently reported. Two thirds of the victims are believed to be women and children. Many people are missing presumed dead and still buried under the rubble of destroyed buildings. 

Somehow the remnant of Palestinian people will survive and rebuild. It's too early to say what damage has been done by Israel to its own reputation. Perhaps this won't become apparent until the Netanyahu government is swept from power democratically and subjected to judgement by law, both nationally and internationally. 

When we got back, I treated myself to beans on toast for lunch, then a long walk in the park afterwards. It was cloudy and bitterly cold. Again I fell short of completing my step quota for the day. 

In the evening I watched part two of this week's double episode of 'Silent Witness' which was unusually complex in that it had a story about a municipal political scandal over rehousing homeless people in an asbestos ridden tower block, linked to another story about girls in foster care being abused, resulting not in justice being done but an explosion of vengeful murders by an unlikely perpetrator. I was reminded of this year's Reith lectures by Dr Gwen Adshead about violent criminals. Then I read a chapter of my Spanish novel before making an effort to get to bed early.

Family reunion part two

Up at eight, housework after breakfast. Rachel slept late, and so did Owain after a busy weekend away, so it was after lunch by the time he took the train to come over and join us. While waiting for him to arrive after lunch, I went for a walk and got back a few minutes before he turned up. Unfortunately Kath had to work today, so we haven't had the pleasure of all three children being together with us at the same time. 

At least we have had time together with them, thanks to Rachel being with us. Owain is staying overnight and then going to work in his physical office base in Central Square. He works from home normally, and is only obliged to visit Cardiff every few weeks. He can come and stay overnight with us and avoid an early train trip to arrive by nine.

Owain and Rachel spent the evening catching up with each other and video chatting with Jas in Tempe. She's in the throes of deciding what to do if she takes a gap year after graduation this summer, so there are ideas and suggestions to consider, including the possibility of coming to Britain, working and travelling in Europe from here. While they were chatting I watched this week's episode of 'Silent Witness' and then it was bed time. 

Sunday morning stroll in Grangetown

I set the alarm for half past seven to be sure to wake up in good time, ready to leave for church at nine. My first assignment was at St Dyfrig & St Samson's covering for Fr Jeff, the retired priest living in the parish. When I arrived, he was already there getting ready for the service. The message that I wasn't needed had not been sent. Not that it mattered. We had a few minutes to re-connect before it was time for him to start. Jeff served in Malta and so we have the Diocese in Europe in common. He's waiting for knee surgery at the moment, so I can stand in for him at short notice when he gets called into hospital. 

Rather than return home for an hour, I drove down to St Paul's, parked the car and went for a walk around the neighbourhood. The sun was shining and the temperature had risen to about nine degrees. On my walk I identified where local primary schools are located, the Catholic and Baptist churches, the local park and leisure centre. I have driven through Grangetown many times, and walked along the Taff Trail which is the eastern boundary of the Parish, so it was interesting to gain a richer impression of an area with a century of working class artisan history behind it, but is now a collection of communities of diverse ethnicity and religious culture. 

In the area I walked through individuals and families were making their way towards St Patrick's Catholic church for the ten o'clock Mass. Several people smiled and said Good Morning as I passed, and the same was true in a street where people were simply heading for the local convenience store. Fewer people greet strangers in the streets of Canton or Pontcanna than down in Grangetown. Perhaps because more people are themselves strangers and unsure of themselves in this rapidly gentrifying and upwardly mobile part of the city.

In the distance I could hear a ring of bells being raised before being pealed to summon worshippers. I think it was coming from the tower of St Augustine's Penarth, on the headland the other side of Cardiff Bay. Pontcanna is much nearer Llandaff Cathedral, but the sound of its peal of bells isn't audible to those who live on the west side of the area,  as it's blocked by Penhill. You have to walk out to Llandaff Fields in line of sight to hear them ring. St Augustine's tower is 200 feet above the Bay and the flood plain Grangetown stands on.

At St Paul's there were over thirty of us for the Mass including half a dozen children. There weren't any technical hitches this week, except me forgetting to chat with the Sunday school kids after Communion and needing to be reminded of it, as there wasn't a prompt in the digital script I was following, but I fitted it in after the blessing and dismissal and before the final hymn. I'm finding some of the liturgical prayers hard to read aloud as they are derived from an English translation of the Latin rite which doesn't ring true to a native English speaker as their grammatical construction is different. The translation of the Mass into English post-Vatican Two was closer linguistically to its Anglican counterpart and flowed nicely when read aloud. A revision made over fifteen years ago was intended to clarify and correct the language of the prayers hasn't been universally welcomed by Catholics, Roman or Anglican. I think I need to rehearse them in future before using them in the liturgy.

Kath and Anto were out walking when I got back from church. Clare and Rachel were preparing Sunday lunch. We sat at table and chatted for a while after eating, then did a circuit of Thompsons Park before Kath and Anto returned to Kenilworth, and another week of intense preparations for their new show, being premiered in mid February. As we were sitting together, Rhiannon's flight touched down in Geneva where she and Tal her boyfriend are spending a few days after their Warwick Castle cosplay contract ended. She's applying for a University place to study Fashion Design, maybe in Birmingham, Manchester or London, where he has received provisional offers.

Rachel and I did another circuit of Llandaff Fields as the sun was setting. While we were out Clare made salmon soup for supper. We had laver bread to go with it - a delicious pleasure. Then I watched another episode of 'Patience' about an unexplained death in a museum. The mystery was lifted straight from an episode of Astrid - Murder in Paris. The actor who plays the autistic sleuth is herself neuro-diverse, so plays the part with real sensitivity and understanding. The series story lines are being widely criticised in the media for being so similar to 'Astrid', and Channel 4 has admitted it's an English version of the French original. Will it survive the first series run of six episodes? We'll see.

Making music again

It was gone nine when we woke up. After walking home under a starry sky last night,  an overcast day. We didn't get around to heating up the marmalade mixture last night, so this got started while I was laying out the breakfast table. Rachel came down to join us an hour later. She and Clare made a start on chopping up and de-pipping the second batch of oranges while we chatted. The first batch of marmalade went into five jars. The second batch, although ready, didn't get started today. I cooked lunch and Rachel concocted a special sauce to go with fish prawns and brown rice. 

Clare had an appointment at the University Optometrists to collect a new pair of spec's, and Rachel went with her. I went out separately and walked in the park. It was colder than I thought and I wasn't dressed warmly enough, and started to get chilled, so I returned home had a warm drink, changed my top coat, and went out again for a circuit of Thompsons Park, at dusk. I returned home when it got dark, short of my daily step quota, running out of energy. Being out late last night walking to and from the bus station was invigorating, but I didn't get enough sleep to recover fully, and that's probably why.

Rachel gave me a really stimulating foot massage. Right foot before supper, left food after. I wouldn't trust anyone but Rachel to work so hard on my feet. I suspect other practitioners would be nervous about going so deep, but she's really good.

After this, Clare got her flute out and Rachel got out Grandpa's 'cello and played it for the first time since it came back from being renovated, just before Christmas. It sounds beautiful in her hands. She and Clare played simple tunes together, with Rachel improvising an accompaniment. This inspired me to get out my guitar and improvise with her. It's such a long time since I last played it. Too often in recent years, my rheumatic finger joints have discouraged me from playing, plus I've had nobody to play with as Clare had been learning the flute slowly from scratch, not ready to be accompanied. Anyway, I joined in and played, without being defeated by pain, and my fingers and brain for the most part remembered what they needed to do. Like riding a bike, you never forget, even if you are a bit wobbly at first. Such a lovely hour spent together. And so to bed.

Rachel's return

Bright, sunny and minus three when I woke up early this morning, keen to check on Rachel's flight. It was taxiing when I first looked on FlightRadar24 at eight, then a few minutes later, it was in the air over Phoenix, heading north west, all the way to the Canadian border, roughly three hours flight to Ontario and the Niagara Falls. It's a night flight for her with an early dawn heading east, then a long slow day in the air and on the ground.

Clare messaged me from town with a request to check if the Seville bitter oranges have arrived at 'The Fruit Bowl' greengrocer's shop at the top of Cathedral Road. Sure enough, boxes of them have arrived in the last day or so. I bought six pounds of oranges and three lemons, ready to turn into marmalade. A welcome home aroma for Rachel tonight.

I had lunch ready when Clare returned from town. After lunch, the first batch of oranges went into the pressure cooker. When I got back from an hour's walk in the park I took the pips out of the cooked oranges and chopped them into pieces ready for jam making. I saw Rachel's flight on FlightRadar24 enter UK air space and turn south in the vicinity of Morecambe Bay. Next time I checked the flight had landed at a quarter to six, more or less on time, although four hours later than scheduled. Getting to the coach station at Heathrow took her longer than expected and she missed the six thirty coach. Fortunately the next coach at ten to eight was an hour shorter than the others, getting in at twenty to eleven. 

While I waited I finished watching 'Freezing Embrace', and tried out a new English crimmie called 'Patience', which is about a young autistic woman who works in a criminal records office, who assists a Detective in solving crimes. It's an English clone of the French crimmie 'Astrid - Murders in Paris', the heroine is blonde too. It's not as warm or funny as the French original. The crimes investigated may be different, but the back stories of the protagonists are identical. Come to think of it, the English re-make of Professor T wasn't a patch on the Belgian original, same with the Swedish 'Wallander' series.

I saw Rachel's coach arrive when I was still a couple of minutes walk from the coach station. She was out of the drop-off area and coming to meet me when I arrived. We walked home up the Spine Road chatting madly and overjoyed to be reunited. So happy that everything had gone to plan. A very late night!

Reaping the whirlwind

I woke up at seven thirty and posted the YouTube link for today's Morning Prayer to WhatsApp, then got up for breakfast after Thought for the Day. As I was putting on my shoes, getting ready to go to church, Clare's flute teacher turned up and I let her in. Clare was busy upstairs and I suspect had forgotten that she had a lesson. Given the problem many people have with ringing our door bell, it's just as well I saw her coming!

There were nine of us at the Eucharist. After the service, a Christingle work group was assembling them in the church hall. I didn't join in, as I'm still coughing and not really sure how infection free I may be. Well, it's an excuse. I stayed and chatted for a while then went to Chapter collected the veggie bag of the week, and cooked lunch when I got back, as Clare had gone out grocery shopping.

I did a circuit of Thompson's Park and Llandaff Fields mid-afternoon. Undeterred by the low temperature, daffodils are shooting up in a few spots around the parks, also in boxes in the occasional front garden, but flower buds aren't bursting yet. Rachel has warned us of a four hour flight delay. It'll be ten o'clock in the evening by the time her coach arrives in Cardiff tomorrow night. Air traffic schedules have been disrupted badly by storms and floods across Europe. 

There's news today of drought ridden Los Angeles County wild fires, uncontrollable due to strong hot winds. The homes of rich and poor alike are being destroyed and thousands made homeless. It was inevitable this would happen when the threat of global heating was down played if not denied by those with the power and resources to act fast enough in response to the mounting evidence of the threat.  With each new climate related disaster, the economic impact grows. I'd not be surprised if the random combination of unforeseen crises results in social and economic chaos far worse than any non-nuclear war. As the world has sown, so it now reaps.

I spent the evening watching more episodes of the Finnish crimmie called 'Freezing Embrace' until it was time to embrace my new super warm duvet.

Feeling the cold

A bright clear sunny day, with the temperature just above zero. After breakfast, I started on my Sunday sermon. Clare's study group arrived for a session, and having run out of ideas to complete the sermon, I went out for an hour's brisk walk. I cooked chicken and chorizo for myself for lunch. Clare had a portion of yesterday's fish pie. 

I slept for over an hour after eating, then took another walk in the park enhanced by a beautiful evening sky, but it felt cold, even colder than the actual one degree centigrade. I was glad to get home again. On my way past the Conway pub, all lit up, I was pleased to see progress being made towards opening day, with groups of tables being positioned adjacent to the main bar. Several large new pieces of kitchen equipment are parked on the patio outside awaiting installation. 

Clare went out to meditation group at six, so I recorded Morning Prayer in a quiet house before supper, then edited it, made the video slideshow and uploaded the fruit of my effort afterwards. I found a new Finnish crimmie to watch on Channel 4, set in a snowy Porvoo not far from Helsinki. Some of the drama happens in water at close to freezing temperature, and there's a detective who runs to work in the snow wearing fancy slipper socks, which makes me wonder if this is fictional, or if inhabitants really are so resistant to extreme cold. It's just above zero again here tonight. No snow, but energy draining cold. It must be hell for inhabitants of Gaza trying to survive without proper shelter in winter conditions. Tibet has had a big earthquake with possibly hundreds of victims. Searching destroyed buildings when it's minus fifteen centigrade must be a nightmare of an experience. Few people can live long trapped under rubble at that temperature.

Epiphany Day

A rain soaked night, but sunshine breaking through this morning and a brighter if cloudy day. Housework after breakfast, then preparation work on next Wednesday's Morning Prayer and Reflection, with another Sunday sermon to prepare as well this week. It's good to have positive things to think about in the face of dispiriting world news as well as nearer home. The only sign that the Christmas festival days are over is the occasional Christmas tree dumped in a front garden, ready for a collection that isn't going to happen this year, or so we've been told.

Clare made an early lunch and after eating was spirited away by taxi to the School of Optometry for an afternoon as a test subject for student exams. Just as she was leaving a large heavy parcel was delivered for her, which needing depositing on the kitchen table for opening later. It turned out to be a bright red Kenwood 'kMix' Food Mixer with a dough hook. It seems my hand kneading days are over. Not sure I'm happy with being replaced by a machine.    

I recorded and edited the reflection I wrote earlier and then went for a walk over to the east side of the river and walked down the Taff Trail to Blackweir Bridge to do a circuit of Pontcanna Fields. The grass was rain saturated from last night's downpour and the river was running fast, higher than normal, but less than yesterday. There seemed to be fewer people out walking than usual, and conditions too poor for sports practice. The sky was clear and a cold wind made it feel even colder.

I followed the progress of a bright blue plastic ball floating down river close enough to the bank to be brushed by low lying branches, delaying its progress enough for me to keep up with it and take a few photos for interest. Only in the last fifty metres above the weir did the ball move away from the bank, swept toward mid-stream by the current before skidding down the concrete ramp into the waves of boiling foam in the lower pool and disappearing from sight. Yesterday we saw a large black kit bag float over the weir, then surface in a fast moving current of water on its way down stream. I wondered what was in it and who might have lost it, with what consequences. Will it get snagged somewhere? Will it float, half submerged all the way down to the Bay Barrage, and end up in one of the nets fishing for rubbish, about 500 tonnes a year, most of it plastic?

Before and after supper, I watched this week's double episode of a new 'Silent Witness' series on iPlayer. This story is all about elderly people with no family, vulnerable with memory loss being preyed upon by a care home nurse, who works out a way of disposing of them and laundering their assets and properties. It's quite a scary story when you're getting to that sort of age yourself. I thought it was over melodramatic in parts. Even so, in addition to a new boss who is a very senior academic lady of a certain age there's Kit, a new research assistant, who in the tradition of this series is cast as someone of exceptional ability, but in some way different. In this case Kit is played by dwarf actor, Francesca Mills, a real live wire.

Epiphany Blessings

By the time I took a last look outdoors on the way to bed last night, snow was already being washed away by heavy rain. The car started without a problem for the journey down to St Paul's Grangetown. I left early to give myself time to work out how to get from Paget Street to Basma's accommodation on the site of the old gasworks, next to IKEA. It was more difficult than imagined, as the given Post Code area was too extensive  and the new housing area didn't appear on Google Maps. I had to return to the main junction, go along Penarth Road and turn down Corporation Road to get down to the IKEA roundabout, as streets are blocked off creating linear neighbourhoods across which you cannot drive only walk. OK once you figure it out. I wanted to send the service live stream link to Basma, but couldn't find it, but as a result of looking at the Parish Facebook Page learned that Fr Richard Green, leader of the Aberdare Ministry Area is going to be the next Vicar of Grangetown.

I went into church twenty minutes before the service, to remind myself of the liturgical layout and check what I needed. The order of service is displayed on large screens with a tablet on the lectern for the priest to read from, all very nicely organised. We were twenty one altogether, including three children. One of them read the Epistle, and a teenage lad read the Old Testament and led the singing of the Gradual Psalm. The confidence of these youngsters was heartening. All went well until the celebrant's tablet crashed after my sermon, so I had to borrow someone else's. 

The Eucharistic Prayer is displayed in full on screen, but too small to be read on any device. Fortunately there was a printed copy to hand, just about big enough to read. Just as well I've memorised the set parts, just in case. Just after the Words of Institution there was a blip in the wifi signal causing the sound relay network to crash, with a loud buzzing noise for about fifteen seconds. I couldn't continue speaking as the noise was so loud. There was nothing to do but stand still and wait for the techies at the back of the room to sort it out. Somehow, it didn't throw me and the problem was soon sorted with a system reset.

As I was about to distribute Communion there was another loud audio visual disruption from a video clip with soul Gospel music and, I think, a religious inspirational message. At least it wasn't obscene or violent, but like pop up ads on YouTube it was easily dismissed, well, at least on the second occasion. I guess it may have happened before. The congregation weren't disturbed or distracted from receiving the Sacrament devoutly, nor was I.

I sought more information about the next Ty Hafan housing estate from one of the servers who is one of the Scout leaders in Grangetown, and their HQ is nearby and he confirmed the estate existed in the real world and could be accessed from the roundabout by IKEA. After a quick drink of coffee I drove there but could see nothing by way of road signage saying Ty Hafan and chose the wrong exit initially, resulting in a tour of IKEA's open air and covered car parks. Then I tried the roundabout exit on to the retail park's ring road, and found an unmarked side road, just out of sight of the roundabout, leading to another roundabout which gave access to the housing estate. Not a single sign post to say what's there.

I was so relieved to have got this far, I didn't check I had memorised the address properly. I hadn't and went to the nearest block and rang a door bell I thought was correct, but soon discovered it wasn't, though at least I learned I was looking for the wrong sort of building. Fortunately a security guard had seen my car come in, then go outside to park it, then walk to the nearest building. He came and found me, and took me to the reception desk. Basma had forgotten to tell me that I needed to sign in as a visitor. I called her to tell her I'd arrived and she was waiting outside her front door to greet me. She lives in a custom made pre-fabricated one bedroom bungalow with facilities designed for people with a disability. It was great to see her again for the first time in five months, looking well and relaxed, safe in a place of her own.

Pondering on the absence of signage for the estate, I came to the conclusion it's a security precaution, that makes it less easy for social media to organise groups hostile to migrants and homeless people to find the place and cause trouble for vulnerable residents. After the terrible things some people have gone through on there journey of escape from violence and oppression, they deserve to have a safe place to dwell and re-shape their lives.

I made a special ritual of blessing for Basma's house, visiting each room with a prayer. Then we read the Gospel of the Three Magii, and I gave her Communion, on this afternoon of the twelfth day of Christmas. For me it was such a gift. To offer the Eucharist, do a house blessing visit and take Communion to a housebound person, all in Christmastide. So grateful to God, so happy to be what I hope is 'my best self'. It's been a while. Clare kept my lunch warm and welcoming for me when I returned an hour and a half late. After her siesta we went for a walk in the park and had tea in Coffee #1 as it was getting dark, on the return leg of a circuit of Pontcanna Fields.

After supper, I watched the last episode of 'SAS Rogue Heroes', taking the story to D Day. I can't believe it's a finale. It didn't feel like one, but there were no teasers about a third series. It's still being broadcast live for the first time, while I took advantage of iPlayer. There were some remarkable poetic moments in this last episode, characters speaking as if they were delivering a soliloquy on stage - all the world's a stage - said Shakespeare. So when you're writing dialogue which has characters thinking aloud, what's not to like about making it beautiful?

After a long stretch in which I've taken only a few Sunday services, I returned to doing duty wondering if I was still able to do all that's required of a priest at the altar without anxiety or exhaustion creeping in or confidence evaporating. Turning eighty in three months means posing such questions, and not deceiving myself. Today was refreshing and reassuring, and despite a miserable week of illness. More to give thanks for. 

Sprinkling of snow

The new duvet was blissfully warm and comfortable to sleep under. I feel a lot more like I expect to after a relaxed night's sleep.  Such a pity it's sub zero and overcast today. Having worked yesterray on the audio for next week's Morning Prayer, this morning I made the video slide show and uploaded it to YouTube, then cooked lunch: millet with tuna, cooked onion and mushrooms plus pesto and soya cream. Quite an acceptable concoction!

It was cold when I went out for a walk, but the temperature rose from minus one to three degrees, enough to turn frosty air into light rain. After sunset, the temperature dropped again to zero and produce the first snow we've seen in a couple of years. It's unlikely to last long, even if there's a good layer of snow further inland. Heat from the urban environment produces its own local micro-climate.

I spent the evening watching more episodes of 'SAS Rogue Heroes' highlighting the intense emotional suffering experienced by some of the bravest and most battle hardened soldiers, especially faced with the death of comrades and innocent civilians caught up in conflict. It portrays a visit by General Montgomery to SAS survivors who held the strategic town of Termoli against all the odds. With his respect for their reckless courage and initiative they were reinstated to their original purpose as an autonomous group with a free hand to disrupt the enemy, having won a fearsome reputation from friend and foe alike. It's tough watching, revealing how costly any military victory is to all who live through it. What happened over eighty years ago is happening in Ukraine now, and in Gaza, Palestine, Sudan. The world doesn't know how to live without violence, and either military or environmental violence is likely to bring it to an end.

Chastened by that thought, I printed out tomorrow's sermon, and got my kit ready for the morning, with no I idea how it will be when I wake up, how the roads will be, whether the car will start. At least it's an 11.00am Mass and Grangetown is only three quarters of an hour walk from here, if that's what's necessary.

Sub zero night

The temperature dropped to minus three by the time I settled down for the night. Although I was suitably clad with a blanket of my duvet, I couldn't stay warm. Congested with phlegm, I kept on needing to sit up and cough over the next hour or so. It meant I couldn't stay warm enough to relax and sleep, and started to shiver. I added a fleece and later a heavy dressing gown, but couldn't stop shivering even though I was half asleep. I had a dreadfully disturbed night, and woke up fog headed, unsteady on my feet. A real set back. After a bite to eat, I spent the rest of the morning sitting again in my armchair, coughing. 

Meanwhile Clare went to town and bought me a new duvet, fit for winter. The one I've been using until now is a summer one, it's surprising it's not given me adequate protection before now.

I felt better after eating, enough to record the audio for next week's Morning Prayer and Reflection. My voice was bound to sound a bit wheezy, but when it came to editing the audio with Audacity, I discovered how to filter the hoarseness out of my breathing. A small gain from my down-time. I walked for an hour at sunset. It was very cold, but amazingly I coughed very little. My lungs weren't at all sore and refreshed by breathing clean cold air, clearing a foggy brain.

The waxing crescent moon, tracked by Venus was in bright clear evening sky after sunset. It was too cold to take a camera with me, so I missed out on perfect conditions, but when I got home, I tried with three different cameras to get the best shots I could from the garden. They would have been better with a tripod, but it was too much of a fuss to set one up as the couple raced towards the western horizon. I did notice another planet seemingly popping up in eastern sky, and pondered why. I think it was Mars. I guess it's on a different trajectory and may appear as it passes out of the sun's shadow into its light. I need to find out if this is what's happening.

I started watching episodes of the second series of 'SAS Rogue Heroes' on BBC iPlayer. It tells the story of how the clandestine military operations unit developed and survived the military politics of the second world war despite its successes in changing the fortunes of war in North African and Italian campaigns. Members of the SAS were reputed to be the most violent, ruthless, and ill-disciplined men, somewhat an embarrassment to upper class leadership, despite effectiveness and enterprise in battle. This portrayal pulls no punches in terms of the brutality of the conflict waged by these men, and its impact on them. They saw themselves as 'dogs of war' - savage animals in classical history sent in to sow chaos before the legions went into action. Although the story line has elements of 'Boys Own' comic war hero characters about it. It names the real life people on whom they are based.  The SAS history has been well researched in its own right. How near this film version is to that reality, I don't know. Worth a watch though.

Time to test the new duvet now!

On the mend at last

I was in bed after ten last night, asleep by eleven and awakened by a bout of violent coughing just after twelve. Half awake, I went to the bathroom to find an ibuprofen to take. On returning to bed, I stepped on an odd shaped paper clip. It threw me off balance, knocking a photo of the wall and I started a nose bleed bending down to retrieve the broken frame. Thankfully Clare heard my wails of woe and came to my aid. This cost me an hour and a half of sleep I needed, but strangely after this my general condition seemed to improve. My head stopped screaming pain every time I coughed and coughing became less frequent. That was a vicious parting gift from the virus. I think I'm now in recovery mode at last. 

Resting in the armchair all morning, getting around to downloading updates to the Llandaff and European Diocese intercession lists, and preparing a sermon for next Sunday at St Paul's Grangetown are things that I couldn't think of doing yesterday. Clare cooked salmon for lunch then I went for a walk. The temperature was around zero all night but with the frost, comes drier air and cold doesn't cling in the same miserable way, but I needed to wrap as warm as possible. Thankfully walking briskly to get warm wasn't a problem after several days of inaction, but I only stayed out for an hour and a quarter, to reserve some energy for the rest of the day. 

Clear blue sky and cold fresh air was a tonic for head and lungs. I realised that when I coughed, my rib cage was painful but my lungs were not sore at all. And I cough far less often in fresh air. At home I think my sensitivity to house dust has risen. Will it stay like that? I hope not. After a lifetime in which 'flu or cold usually led to bronchitis, it's good to find a silver lining in this dark infectious winter. Maybe that RSV vaccination last autumn did make a difference, evening if the new strain of 'flu slipped under infection monitoring radar and threw a curve ball at vaccination research too late for this year's crisis.

Hospitals are overwhelmed at the moment, with ambulances unable to respond to emergencies as they are stuck waiting to deliver patients, with beds full, well patients in heed of home care unable to be discharged as social care people and resources are stretched beyond their limit. A nightmare for medics and those who manage NHS and local government social services.

Sunset ten minutes later than at the solstice now, and the temperature dropped to minus two after dark. I climbed up to the loft, camera in hand hoping to glimpse the promised aurora borealis in the clear night sky, but there's too much light pollution overwhelming natural light in the heavens. I've never seen it in real life, with or without a camera in hand. A night journey out of Cardiff to Gelligaer Common might be revelatory, but it's too far to venture nowadays, especially when I'm not yet fully recovered.

The Archers Christmas podcast I listened to tonight is all about the story behind its theme tune 'Barwick Green' by Arthur Wood. It's been there from the beginning, starting and finishing each episode It highlighted significant moments in its 74 year run when it wasn't played for dramatic reasons. It's the most played piece of theme tune ever, and heard throughout the world. A British cultural landmark, not a fossil, as it's well researched and keeps up to date with current events. I've been a fan since I was a kid and may have heard some of the earliest episodes on the family wireless, listening to the BBC Long Wave Home Service.

Once the heating goes off for the day, It's going to get really chilly indoors as well as outside. so it's time get moving in the general direction of bed.  I understand that battery powered vehicles drain more power, used at low temperatures. I noticed today my TZ95 runs sluggishly at 4C, so I'm not surprised. 

All day languishing

Midnight passed and I was oblivious to festive fireworks and the world in general. I slept for over eleven hours, which my untrustworthy fitbit failed to record. I don't feel as bad as I did yesterday but still wobbly, and with my bowels working as created this poison is taking its leave of me. I just have to be patient with myself and keep resting.

I woke up at seven thirty and posted today's YouTube Morning Prayer link to WhatsApp before going for  breakfast. Then I spent the morning languishing in my armchair again. Clare was busy writing so I made lunch - prawns in a garlic white sauce with veggies. That consumed all my energy, but Clare came down and served the meal. Back to languishing until suppertime, and then the New Year's Day Concert from Vienna, which took place this morning, but a two hour edited version with additional ballet performances was screened internationally to fifty countries. This year celebrates the 200th anniversary of the birth of Strauss the Younger, so his music was highlighted. Also in the programme were a couple of numbers by a Viennese female composer, the first time ever. I don't recall the name and didn't recognise it. But it makes the point that there's a lot more good music composed by women which deserves performance. As ever the show was a joy to behold. Languishing became more tolerable for a couple of hours at least. Just as well I'm not well enough to feel bored.

The Archers was interesting tonight. It included mention of the Shipping Forecast on this centenary of its first daily broadcast. Radio Four's programme scheduling today has been full to excess with this all day, an expression of how important this daily  ritual weather recitation is to people all over Britain, Europe and all over the world. Also in this episode, Neil Carter reveals to his colleague that he was a foundling in foster homes until he was adopted at seven. It's a story he tells beautifully without self pity and with much wisdom. A complete surprise! He's one of the Ambridge elders, captain of the bell tower, church warden, and member of the village council, quiet, modest and self effacing. It's a gift to listeners full of insight.

My fitbit has been even more annoying today, refusing to sync properly needing a re-start and the app to be re-installed to work as designed. It's not good at managing disruption of activity pattern. Not a usefully clever as it likes to think it is. I won't be buying anything as fancy and expensive as this was if I got to the stage of throwing it away. Unreliable information is worth very little.