Another cold night and grey day. Awake by half past seven, posting the Morning Prayer YouTube link to WhatsApp, then up at eight for breakfast, benefiting from getting to bed half an hour earlier. It meant I was out of the house on my way to St Catherine's for the Eucharist early enough to buy our contribution to the food bank without haste. It was heartwarming to have Pam at today's service, brought by Jean. She's been unwell and housebound for a long time. Marlene, our other nonagenarian wasn't well enough to be brought to church today, still recovering from a fall a few weeks ago. Both are frail their confidence easily drained by a shock.
To see either or both of them at church and smiling is good for those of us who are ten to fifteen years younger, wondering how we'll be if we live to their age. We were nine this morning plus baby Sebastian, who snoozed throughout. Normally he's awake and alert, staring around with wonder in his eyes. I was pleased to learn from Hilary that three of the jars of marmalade I made are sold so far. I collected this week's veggie bag on my way home, and cooked lunch, while Clare was having a violin lesson with Mark.
For a change, I walked into town to have a look around. Ann called me while I was walking to say that her cardio examination on Sunday concluded with the good news of a healthy heart. Then Owain called to say he's been offered a job with HMRC in a team that's based in their Bristol office. His interview was last week, and yesterday he was informed that he interviewed well and would be considered for a suitable job if one came up. He was rather surprised to get an offer quite so soon!
I could hear French voices on the street, early arrivals for Saturday's rugby international. There are now large iron gates in Wharton Street enclosing the internal space created by the initial demolition phase of the Howells department store redevelopment. It's possible to get a better view of the facade of Bethany Chapel preserved and absorbed into the store during the mid-1960's redevelopment. Banners for the demolition company are now emblazoned on three sides of the old building. The plan is to gut the building, preserving its listed building facade and build a new structure within it, adding a garden terrace at roof level.
I caught the bus home and got off halfway up Romilly Crescent to walk the last stretch. Before supper I watched the last episode of 'The Sketch Artist' which ended on a cliff hanger, so there's bound to be another series eventually.
Owain phoned after supper to chat about his move from the Insolvency Agency to HMRC. There's a rather convoluted procedure involved it seems, as each of the 422 government agencies is a distinct entity with separate personnel management departments. Although he's been vetted for his present job, he has to be vetted by HMRC, and this involves lots of form filling with personal details. It was the same when he moved to the Insolvency Agency from the DVSA. There's no equivalent of a civil servant's digital passport it seems. Timing and details of the transfer have still to be worked out and it could be two to three months before it happens. Owain said that's an improvement. It used to take six months!
I spent the evening reading my Spanish novel, picking up new vocabulary and expressions as I proceeded. It helps that the writing style of J J Fernandez the author relies on repetition of phrases to build tension or a sense of confusion in the narrative, and is more sparse than that of Zafon, several of whose books I have read. And so to bed, more or less on time. It's hard to stop in the middle of a chapter.
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