Getting started with BT broadband

Cloudy again for much of the day but a bit warmer. I woke up early and posted today's Morning Prayer YouTube link to WhatsApp. Another disturbed night's sleep gave me a foggy head. It took me a long time to get started. BT bombarded me with email and text messages reporting on today's broadband activation. 

I got in a muddle about an OpenReach engineer installation visit, unsure if it was meant to happen today or tomorrow. I tried to confirm this visit by logging in to the BT app without success. I needed to have a phone signal and be attached to wi-fi for this, but at this stage I wasn't yet on on-line. I had to unpack the router and connect the cables, and power it up. When I did there was no sign of life to start with. It was slower to  start than I expected. The initial power-on self test ran a diagnostic check on the connection before the router would receive and send signals. Panic over. Then the chore of adding the new router's long password to various internet devices so they are ready to use when needed, rather than doing it in haste when I need to use them in a hurry

Kath returned home to Kenilworth after breakfast. Rachel investigated coach bookings for her return trip to Heathrow for the return flight to Arizona. We have had wonderful quality family time with all three children at home with us this Christmastide. They must all go their separate ways and live their own lives. but it breaks my heart to part company, conscious that in my condition I may not live to see them all together again in the flesh. They get on so well together, and show us such loving kindness and care.

Rachel us cooked an unusual veggie curry for lunch using fennel, red pepper and chick peas. After we'd eaten, I walked to Parkwood clinic for an acupuncture treatment and did a circuit of Llandaff Fields at sunset on my way home.

More music making with Rachel after supper, then early to bed in an endeavour to shake off persistent tiredness. 

Farewell to an old friend

The temperature went down to minus four overnight. Poor Owain, sleeping on the self inflating airbed in the lounge couldn't escape the chilly draught through the air vent that's also the fast access route for slugs from the garden. A noble gesture to allow his dad to sleep in his usual bed. A text message and email from British Telecom notified me of tomorrow's account switch from TalkTalk to BT. An OpenReach engineer visits on Thursday to configure the broadband link to work with the new 'digital voice' landline equivalent.

After breakfast, Kath drove me to St German's for Fr Roy's funeral Mass. Clare, Kath, Rachel and Owain went into the town centre for present shopping. It's Anto's birthday next weekend. The church was full of parishioners, family friends and colleagues from far and wide. Roy was a remarkable individual who lived the adventure of faith with humour, compassion, wise insight and great love for people, a charismatic personality, outgoing and always ready to celebrate life in all its fullness. The Solemn Requiem Mass was presided over by Fr Richard Lowndes, with Bishop Barry Morgan in choir and Fr Jarel officiating over the funeral rites.

Roy's god daughter delivered the eulogy, and Bishop Mary, who was unable to attend wrote a special prayer of thanksgiving for Roy's life. Bishop Michael Marshall preached a fine sermon reflecting on Roy's life as a pastor and priesthood in old age. He spoke about the clergy retirement experience of no longer feeling needed that comes when a priest is no longer in a leadership role, and the sense that part of a person called to ministry is the need to feel needed.

Last night I lay awake pondering on the impact and significance of the stroke which brought a halt to my active ministry. The haiku I wrote just before Christmas sums it up. 

Despite the chaos
of motion and sensation.
'Time to stop' it warns. 
Pay full attention and come 
to terms with yourself.

Coming to terms with myself is about accepting my new limitations, being grateful for moments when I'm reminded by others of how God's grace has been revealed in relationships which have influenced their lives and mine. Also in being ministered rather than ministering to others. A Word which speaks to my condition. The liturgy was traditional, catholic, beautifully choreographed and executed with moments of deep silence and singing. The hymns were those chosen for golden jubilee of his ordination. Roy would have loved it. Starting at noon, I knew I'd be at risk of low blood sugar, so I took some dates and mini pork pies with me, just in case. I wasn't overwhelmed by the stimulus of such a great celebration, not even at the buffet lunch reception in the crowded church hall after. I chatted with a few people I knew, then made my way to the nearest stop on Newport Road for a city centre bus. As I was on the move, a call from Kath told me she was taking Owain to the train station. He has to work tomorrow. We couldn't rendezvous for a farewell hug as time was too tight, so we took our leave of each other on the phone. It was sunset by the time I reached home. It was overcast, dark and drizzling, though not as cold as it has been in recent days.

Kath's school friend Mandy came for supper. It was good to see her again. She still looks a younger than her age. She's now one of the senior librarians at the Royal Welsh College of Music and Drama, in charge of a collection of original musical scores, amongst other things, a dream job for her. Both her sons are musicians, one a rock drummer, the other a classical concert pianist. Amazing how the children's children turn out. After Mandy left Rachel and I played together for a while. It was hard going for me, as my hand muscles were painfully stiff from family music sessions over the past few days By ten the girls were on their way to bed, and I wasn't far behind. Our internet speed has dropped considerably. It's a consequence of the service providor switch taking effect I guess.

Twelfth night family reunion

Another frosty night under a bright full moon which has just started to wane. Bright sunshine and a clear sky when I woke up after a fairly good night's sleep. Owain came over to join his sisters to take Clare to St David's Spa for a belated birthday treat with her offspring. I didn't join them as I'm not sure if I can take that measure of unusual stimulus without being overwhelmed. It's a kind of vulnerability I've never experienced before, and I need to proceed with caution to avoid accidents. 

Instead of going with them, I did the grocery shopping, and then cooked a veggie sugo ready for tonight's pasta supper. I ate enough at lunchtime to ensure my blood sugar didn't drop but still felt unwell, my head throbbed as if I'd been poisoned, and my thought processes slowed down and became erratic. When I laid the supper table, I forgot to include myself. Fortunately however, I cooked enough for five. A walk in the park cleared my head, and this time when a pied wagtail landed on the path ahead of me I was quick witted enough to get a good photo of it. Earlier, Clare took a few photos of me with the girls. At supper time I took a full family photo of the five of us at the dining table using the timer with the camera perched on the piano. I must have taken the same picture of us all together at family gatherings many times over the years.

After supper we relaxed and made music together until tiredness caught up with each of us in turn.  

Guitar maintenance

Minus one when I got up in bright sunshine with the rising sun illuminating cirrus cloud over the horizon and frost on the ground. Clare made pancakes for Rachel's breakfast with gluten free flour, improvising a recipe as she went along. They were slow to cook, so it was just as well Rachel got up late. 

I went to the St Catherine's Eucharist on my own and did some food shopping on my way home. The girls were on their way out for a walk as I arrived, but I didn't go with them as I felt a bit light headed, though not as bad as when my blood sugar is low. 

Shopping in the Coop I found difficult with many visual distractions and items to hunt for, not always clearly visible. My brain processes slow down when it comes choosing and finding things on shelves as well as navigating my way around cramped aisles populated by other busy shoppers and shelf stackers. I find it drains me, and I need recovery time to clear my head. I have to be much more patient with myself, and that's perhaps the hardest thing of all to do.

We had our customary Sunday lunch of salmon, roast veg peas and snap peas, followed by mince pies, and went for a walk before tea. Out came the guitars for music making again, but this developed in an unusual way. Rachel discovered that my Bernal flamenco guitar had a broken D string. The spare D string Kath put on for me on a previous visit had snapped yet again. I was once told when buying strings that the D string is the one most prone to break. The reason for this physically speaking is unclear, as there's no flaw in the neck alignment or upper bridge of the guitar. Rachel took on the challenge of mounting a new string with a tiny cushion beneath the string where it connects with the bridge to spread the stress at the point where it is most likely to break.

Not only is she an accomplished guitarist, she loves working on instruments. She successfully fitted a sophisticated electronic pick-up to a guitar of her own, a job involving some careful carpentry. She said with enthusiasm that she'd love to train as a luthier. My 65 year old Tatay guitar is one she loves to play. it is a special instrument full on memories, scratches and dents. She's keen to give it some TLC. Decades ago the original machine heads needed replacement. I bought a pair and fitted one but either lost my nerve about fitting the second, or just never found time to finish the job. When she found the unused spare, she set about fitting it, a rather tricky task, but one which made her eyes light up with pleasure. I have a third guitar, a nice acoustic Fender, inherited from my sister Pauline's daughter Kay with a machine head that no longer turns. It's jammed. If I can buy a replacement machine head, I foresee Rachel bringing that instrument back  into service too.

We had a lovely relaxed evening playing together in different ways, piano, flute, guitars in action, pauses to  re-tune guitars as the strings settled down after maintenance, until tiredness defeated us all in the end and drove us early to bed.

Home reunion

Another bright frosty winter's day after a fair night's sleep. I woke up clear headed for a change and stayed like that until lunchtime low blood sugar assailed me. Clare cooked pancakes for breakfast, and afterwards I went grocery shopping. On returning I started to feel light headed as my blood sugar dropped, so I made haste to cook some pasta and make a chick pea and mushroom sugo to go with it. Fast food but tasty, and it quickly boosted flagging energy level. While waiting for Kath and Rachel to arrive, I walked in Llandaff Fields for an hour, and spotted a pair of pied wagtails foraging on the footpath but they moved too quickly to photograph. The girls had just arrived when I got home.

After cups of tea and biscuits, Rachel took out her grandpa's 'cello and started playing, I accompanied her on the guitar and Clare or Kath joined in on flute. I rarely feel inclined to pick up the guitar to play on my own, less so since the stroke, but when Rachel started playing, I automatically joined in with her, despite a few errors due to lack of practice for many months. My guitar playing relies on harmonising from memory and I found that my musical memory and ability to recognise things without latency isn't as affected as it is with visual memory, which still works, but is slower. For this, I am most grateful.

We went out for supper to Stefano's and had an excellent early evening meal. The rising 'Wolf' full moon was with us on the way to the restaurant and the way back. We stopped and howled at it, the way we did when the girls were young. When we got home we made more music until it was time for bed, preceded by a foot rub from Rachel. So lovely to be together again.

 was less impaired

Swiss tragedy

Another cold bright sunny winter's day. I benefited from getting to bed earlier, but only in the sense that I coped better with interrupted sleep, getting up half a dozen times to empty my bladder. I wake up now, eat a banana and drink water before taking my first round of pills, then I don't feel as poorly when I get up for breakfast. Clare made herself lunch early as she had an afternoon hospital appointment which requires her not to eat for several hours before the scan. When I got around to making my lunch at midday, I started to feel light headed and continued to feel poorly after l'd eaten. Then it occurred to me that I may not have drunk enough fluid to replace the amount lost overnight. I didn't feel desperately thirsty and drinking more than a litre of liquid isn't easy if swallowing muscles tend to work spasmodically.

Terrible news of a New Year's Eve fire at a party in a bar in the Swiss Valais ski resort of Crans-Montana killing over forty young people and injuring 115. Hospitals in Italy, France and Switzerland are receiving badly burned patients helicoptered from the site. Identifying victims will take time for forensic teams. Phone videos of the blaze as it spread through the bar ceiling, and attempts to extinguish it have appeared on social media. How could it happen? It's common enough to have lit candles on tables, flares, sparklers and firecrackers used at indoor parties, and if there are flammable festive decorations there's danger. In this case birthday cake sparkler candles were mounted on Champagne bottles People can take risks without realising it. Risk taking is part of the thrill of winter sports. Does this excitement extend to playing with fire indoors as well? Someone holding sparklers up, close to a wooden lattice ceiling in a warm dry environment, a moment's inattention in a crowded place could trigger a blaze with unforeseen tragic consequences. 

Text and email messages from BT arrived to say our new broadband router will be delivered at some time from today onwards. We still have to wait four days for an OpenReach engineer to come and install it. Tracking the delivery was useless. Not even an approximate time within the stated time frame was given. I had to stay in for the delivery as Clare had a hospital appointment. I didn't want to waste an hour's sunshine, so I put a note on our letter box asking that the parcel be left in the blue recycling bag in the front garden. Five minutes later as I was walking away, I had a text message informing me that delivery would take place mid morning tomorrow. 

I walked for an hour until sunset, and on my way home Rachel video called me from Kath's kitchen in Kenilworth. It was lovely to see her and Kath together again. They'll be visiting us tomorrow. She was still on line when Clare returned, slightly radioactive, she said, following a brain scan. Keep away from children for a while, she was told, while the radio isotope in her blood stream passes out of her system. Clare baked a fresh batch of delicious mince pies with her own mincemeat and puff pastry before supper. Another episode of 'Little Drummer Girl' after we'd eaten, then bed.

Inspiring faithfulness

I got to bed by eleven and slept through the midnight hour, without hearing any more fireworks, waking up just in time for Thought for the Day, delivered in verse by regular contributor Jane Manfredy. Clare and I had a lie-in together until breakfast time. Another bright sunny day, four degrees this morning. We went grocery shopping together. Most shops were shut but the Turkish supermarket on Cowbridge Road East was open. We bought vegetables and I cooked fish to go with them for lunch when we returned. I slept for an hour after we'd eaten, overwhelmed by tiredness.

I had an email message this morning from Staysure travel insurance about advising the company about any change in health status likely to affect my travel policy when time comes to renew it in three months time. Well, sadly that won't be happening. I won't be travelling abroad any time soon, maybe never again. To avoid complications with automatic policy renewal hassles, I'm going to cancel the policy early. I don't know if I'll get a refund for the last couple of months, but if I do it I won't need to contact Staysure and go through the hassle of dealing with the renewal process debiting my account automatically on the assumption there is no change in my insurability. 

I received an email this afternoon from the niece of one the last of the stalwart faithful members  of Saint James' Parish Church Tredegarville telling me that Iris Salmon had died recently, aged 92. Only ten days ago I sent her a Christmas card and newsletter, containing our contact details. Hence this message. She was a diminutive bright eyed woman with a wry sense of humour. I enjoyed working with her when she was church warden and I was Vicar of the church, now converted into apartments. 

Having failed to obtain EU social funding to turn the building into a church community resource centre, it was a hard decision to give up worship in a building that the small congregation could no longer afford to maintain, but her love for the parish she lived in and its church school led her to support the decision to continue services in the school hall on Sunday afternoons and Mondays after school, and she was a regular participant in these while they lasted, always quietly steadfast and faithful. I remember her telling me that as a young seamstress during the war she had worked on making parachutes for the military, so thorough, patient and loyal.

I'm especially thankful to our Maker for her gentle kindness and devotion to church life and its school in daunting times for faithful people. She never married, but was devoted to the children of the Parish. She never gave up on God or His church, as so many others did. May she rest in peace and rise in glory.

I walked in Llandaff Fields an hour as the sun was setting. At the top end of the park, I was accompanied by a big Mistle Thrush that hopped along the grassy path just ahead of me. Sometimes as the light begins to fade I glimpse movement in the trees or undergrowth, maybe a dark shape,  but because of my visual impairment I can never be sure if I'm seeing a bird, or a floater in my eye, or hallucinating. This time the bird hopped slowly, unafraid of me it seems, and its distinctive plumage was clearly visible at close range.

Today is the 75th anniversary of the launch of BBC Radio 4's soap opera 'The Archers', which I remember  being listened to on the radio at home on BBC Light Programme when I was a boy. Several programmes in the schedule are devoted to discussions about it. Womens' Hour this morning explored the portrayal of female characters over the years, and The Archers podcast is now a regular feature. Recent episodes have focused on the toxic and disruptive behaviour of young ex-prisoner George Grundy whose personality disorder drives him to alienate himself from family, friends and villagers. In tonight's episode George is found unconscious on a bridle path after a bottle has been smashed over his head. 

In an unusual innovative spin-off, a Radio 4 drama follows, set in a local police interview room where key soap opera characters, whose relationship with George have turned bad, are interviewed by the lead detective conducting enquiries. An interesting way of probing and exposing motivations. A great way of spinning out a dramatic story line affecting the whole village throughout the holiday season and turning it into a 'whodunit'. Then, the annual New Year's Day concert from Vienna's Musikverein on BBC iPlayer. As ever, it's a great delight. Given the many uncertainties the world faces with the shadow of war and catastrophic potential of climate change to destabilise the world, taking refuge in two hours of genteel optimistic music is a consolation before going to bed. It may not change the way the world is, but it may lift the spirits enough to help us face the future and keep us from despair