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.