Dydd Gwyl Dewi

Unfortunately, observance of the First Sunday of Lent takes precedence over the fiesta of our national patron, so the Church Catholic is out of step with the nation, celebrating Dewi tomorrow instead. I'm sure he wouldn't mind Lent observance had been going on for about a hundred and fifty years before he was born. He'd give it priority over all else, quite naturally.

I celebrated and preached at St Paul's Grangetown this morning, with a congregation of over forty adults and children. A couple of youngsters read the lesson. A lad of about seven read the story of the Fall with some difficulty. It was a good effort for someone learning to read, halting with occasional stumbles, but nobody minded. The congregation followed from a pew sheet provided, happy to see one of their kids confident enough to get up and try reading in public. Many of them wouldn't have the confidence to do that. It's marvellous that small children are encourage to have a go and try hard things. Clearly it works. The second lesson from St Paul on the second Adam is a closely argued text. It was read with clarity and impressive comprehension by another lad, nine or ten years old. We gave both of them a round of applause. Such a joy!

Before lunch I walked to Tesco's to get a bottle of wine, as Sunday is not a day of Lenten observance. The length of Llandaff Road was closed off for re-surfacing, and a fleet of lorries came with tarmac and left empty. The heavens opened and soaked me on the way back. Huge clouds of steam rose from the newly rolled surface after the rain. The smell is so evocative.

A walk to Blackweir after lunch revealed river water levels only slightly higher than usual. The fields have also drained of surface water very quickly. The force of the water flow over the past week has shifted hundreds of tons of pebbles into a long tear drop shaped island in the middle of the riverbed. In fact, its shape today was different again from what it was earlier in the week. Two cormorants were perched on stones on the furthermost edge of the island, surveying the waters. The entire tree that was washed downstream under the bridge last week has disappeared. The riverbed seems quite clean and bare after a couple of weeks of heavy rain. At first, huge amounts of wood was carried downstream on the flood, timbers from industrial pallets and crates, tree branches and logs, plastic crates bottles, containers. All of this ends up in the Bay where hundreds of tons of rubbish has to be removed daily as part of the effort required to release water from the marina into the Severn Estuary.

After the walk, I made an effort to sort out my possessions and pack them for travel. First, making a pack of wound dressings to occupy a corner of my case - this time last year, I recall us taking a large separate bag full of medical stuff with me to my sister Pauline's 90th birthday celebration in Weston. Progress! Next, trying to decide which gadgets I'm going to take, and finding the chargers to go with them. Then selecting clothes, and then assembling just the right amount of blood pressure medication packs to cover the time away. Next, sorting out essential documents in addition to passport tickets driving license and IDP. Usually, I'm doing this on the day I start travel, but this time I'm unusually nervous and keen to get it all right in advance. It's eighteen months since I last travelled abroad, and it's less easy to get going than it used to be.
  

The ground on which we stand

I was back on midweek duty this morning, celebrating the Eucharist at St Catherine's with eight others. Because of the readings, I took the opportunity to reflect with them on the church's ministry of healing, making use of the laying on of hands. It's struck me how important that is in this day and age when medical treatment is all narrowly specialised and organised around tests and procedures. It may indeed all be very effective, but the process reduces the case load to patient and procedure numbers. The whole person isn't treated, only presenting problems and symptoms. The best medicine is holistic and some of it happens in GP surgeries where a real effort is made to care for people, but even those generalist doctors are obliged to be a specialist some of their working time. It's right and good that the Christian community addresses sick people as whole persons first and last. Ministry of Unction and Laying on of Hands represents this affirmation.

At least the rain has been lighter this past few days, but colder. The wind has been occasionally gusty, making my daily walk a little challenging on times. I was amazed to see a ten foot long branch on the ground along the avenue of trees across Llandaff Fields, which had blown down overnight. What was unusual was that it had completely disintegrated into rotten fragments on hitting the ground. How the dead branch had stayed attached to the tree for so long without breaking off is remarkable. It fell over the touch line of one of the rugby pitches. If that had come down during a match, the consequences could have been tragic. I can't understand why Cardiff Council's parks department tree officers didn't notice it before. It could have been up there decomposing for several years since it died.

Down at Blackweir Bridge, the river management crew has been at work since Sunday removing tons of silt washed downstream by the floods. There are tons more silt in dark red tide marks at the edge of the lower field as well, and huge reddish silt stains in the upper field where flood waters reached. It must be rich with microscopic organisms, as flocks of crows, starlings and gulls spend a long time on the ground foraging. The soil of the flood plain is for the most part greyish in colour, as coastal rock strata are Jurassic / Liassic Limestone. The waters of the Taff pass through a gorge to entre the flood plain, part of a long rocky outcrop at the southern end of the South Wales Coalfield. The strata in this outcrop are various ages of sandstone, some blue Grey Pennant, but also Old Red Sandstone, which is darker in colour than the New Red tends to be. It's fascinating. In the countryside on both sides of the city flood plain the soil tends to be red, reflecting what's in the rock below. The variety is fascinating. My Grandpa Kimber taught me all about local geology when I was still in Primary School, and for this lifelong interest I'm indebted to him.

Travel plans in place at last

My Llandaff diocese CRB check certificate arrived in this morning's post and was immediately sent of to the Provincial office for inspection as required. That won't be necessary next time round in five years, as the Church in Wales as well as me will have recourse to the full on-line service by then. It's a shame the Province is that far behind the CofE, which went digital five years ago.

I called the EHIC Plus help-desk after breakfastt and discussed my travel insurance premium. I found out that the standard rate could be applied if my condition awaiting the final operation was exempted from the policy. This seems reasonable to me. I am managing things well, and bearing in mind what happened in Montreux 18 months ago, would rather fly home and go to the nearest A&E, if anything threatened to de-rail my progress than seek surgery abroad. Follow through specialised treatment in situ would be impossible as a temporary resident. I believe the risk of anything going wrong is very low, both surgeons and my GP didn't seem to think so, and I can't be the first and only person to be in this position before. I paid over the phone and within minutes the policy documents arrived by email.

With that done, I set about investigating travel arrangements. The only outbound EasyJet flight to Mallorca from Bristol in the first week of March leaves at seven in the morning, so I'll be obliged to take the 02h30 coach from Cardiff to the airport, something I've done once before, though I can't remember when. When I get to Palma, I'll be able to visit the local branch of the Ministry of the Interior and apply in person for the Spanish police check. This may take a day or so to see though properly, so I'll stay at least one or two nights in a Hostal, and then take the ferry to Ibiza. I may even get to do some sightseeing!

I couldn't find a direct return flight, but there was an 08h40 Vueling flight to Barcelona, and another EasyJet flight to Bristol three hours after landing. I believe (I hope) they use the same terminal. KLM offered possibilities of a flight to Cardiff or Bristol via Schipol, but their website is pretty unfriendly compared to Vueling and to EasyJet, so I soon lost interest. I was amazed at how much time it took to do the research and book the flights. It was late by the time got out for a walk. I set out in the dry but got drenched by a heavy shower toward the end, so I covered the shortest distance of the week.

I am so looking forward to resuming pastoral ministry with one community for a couple of months, as opposed to being on call by the Cardiff Area Deans or our own Team Rector to fill in wherever the need exists. As it's Lent and Eastertide, this measure of continuity is mutually beneficial. I can maybe plan with the church pastoral team how to go about the teaching side of ministry over that period. I'll have an opportunity and time to prepare fresh material to use as well, which I find stimulating. Even so, I can't help but feel nervous about getting started again, and perhaps that nervousness added to the difficulties I had with travel planning. Being stuck at home and so vulnerable for such a long time has left its mark on me, over and above physical injury.

Today, priority booking for the 20-21 WNO season of opera performances opens, so I went down to the Millennium Centre and bought the selection of tickets which Clare and I had decided upon before she went to Arizona. Not only do we get seats in the row we want, but also at a 15% discount. It's one of the special things we enjoy about living in Cardiff, just a short journey away from a world class opera house and performing company.

Bright St Agnes day

A couple of clear bright sunny days to start the week, perfect for walking, whether going out to do the weekly shopping, or enjoying the parks. Fr Rhys came on Monday evening to certify my passport photocopy ready for the Spanish police check application. I downloaded the Form 790 from the web, but found it worryingly different from a UK equivalent because of its legal terminology and structure that I'm not sure I'd be able to fill it in correctly to obtain a result. I think I need help with this.

St Agnes' day today, a fiesta with happy memories from my days working in St. Paul's Bristol, as Vicar of St Agnes Parish Church. It's the only one of the four parish churches in the area still open and active today, very much adapted to different circumstances in the forty years since I moved on.

This morning I did an hour long CofE on-line safeguarding training module, part of what diocese in Europe requires for renewing my PTO. It reminded me to enquire of the Bishop's Chaplain about the same for the diocese of Llandaff. It seems there are several in the pipeline. I hope they happen before I go away or after my return.

This afternoon, I was out just at the right time to catch a family of six red-wings out foraging in the avenue near the riding school, in exactly the same location where I saw them several years ago. Several families of long tail tits, plus a couple of coal tits were in the branches of the avenue of trees leading down to the Taff. There was a solitary missel thrush out in the middle of the football pitch to the north of the path, again where I've seen one several times before. 

The most wonderful sight was, however, several hundred starlings feeding closely together in the same area of grass in the middle of the same pitch. There were dog walkers circulating around the edge of the field, and every now and then the movement or sound of the dogs caused all the birds to rise into the air, travel a short distance and then settle again to feed in another densely packed area of grass. Once or twice, when the alignment of the flock was right, I heard the brief low hum of all those wings, a hundred and fifty years away. Exquisite!

Epiphany confusion

Yesterday I had a sermon to write, and documents to prepare with photocopies of my passport and driving license, which can be verified as copies by an office holder's signature, GPs and clerics do this. I have often done it for others, but this time I must get someone to do it for me. Fr Rhys has agreed to. He's a GP and a cleric! The point of the exercise is to have an identity document to send to the Spanish police database to secure an official certificate stating that I have no criminal convictions in Spain. This is necessary to renew my European Permission to Officiate. 

It's a fiddly task which has to be perfectly correct to succeed, and that makes me nervous, even though I know there's nothing to worry about, as there's nothing to find. The trouble is, I don't trust anybody's big information systems, as none of them can be absolutely error free. It's one of the obstacles of modern life that has to be lived with.

My afternoon walk took me past Tesco Extra on Western Avenue. The stretch of woodland behind the store a few years ago hosted a huge flock of starlings, which came to roost there at sunset. These have been supplanted by a huge flock of crows. I have never seen so many in one place, hundreds of them. Alarm calls from birds overhead caught my attention. I looked up and saw several crows attacking a couple of starlings, driving them away from the roost which used to be theirs. People can behave like that too, if they think they have the numbers or strength. We're no better.

I spent several hours writing my novel until late, taking time off just to watch this week's double episode of 'Wisting' on BBC Four. Although this is the first time it's been screened in the UK, the plot has an air of déja-vu about it. It's worth watching for its backdrop of Norwegian winter landscape, but part of the entertainment is predicting twists in the story-line.

I was thankful for a later start this morning celebrating the Eucharist of the Baptism of Christ at St Paul's Grangetown at ten thirty this morning. There was a certain confusion about whether Epiphany ended last Sunday or ends today and Ordinary Time (changing to green liturgical décor) begins. I regret that lectionary revision fifty years ago didn't keep the rest of January as time 'after Epiphany', up until Candlemass. Just because the Roman Catholic church does Ordinary Time is no justification for everyone else to do it.

Clare had her monthly afternoon study group so we had an early lunch. This meant I could get out for longer walk and went up the Taff Trail to the top end of Hailey Park in Llandaff North and back, six miles in two hours. It's great to be able to do that and still have energy to spend hours writing.

We watched this evening's  the second episode of 'Doctor Who'. The goobledgook sci-fi content is barely intelligible let alone credible, but it was good to see Sir Lennie Henry again, playing a baddie whose tech genius dominates and controls the internet using 'big data' harvested from people's personal web accounts. He had some rather good lines, much closer to contemporary truth than any of the sci-fi. Then, more novel writing until late. I've gained a good deal of plot momentum this weekend, but the end is not quite in sight yet.

Eclipse time

Yesterday, I had to stay in and miss going to St John's for the Eucharist so that a handyman could take a look at our oven door and see if the problem we have is fixable. It turns out a roller catch that keeps the door closed is broken, and needs replacement. It's easy enough to order on-line, but installing it is tricky as it involves dismantling the front of the oven first. It's no longer the kind of thing I can tackle as my rheumaticky hands don't function with enough sensitivity to hold on to small things or turn tight screws any longer. I understand well the meaning of the phrase at the end of Psalm 137 where in one translation the poet says "If I forget you O Jerusalem, may my right hand lose its skill." 

On my afternoon walk in the park today, I saw for the first time in a couple of years a family of long tailed tits foraging on the bare branches of the avenue of trees leading down to Blackweir Bridge. I only got one photo worth keeping. The little things move so fast. In Bute Park, I saw a Jay foraging on a tree trunk way above me, and got several photos, the best of this bird I've ever got. I noticed that the daffodil shoots which first appeared after Christmas are acquiring heads, and may flower before the end of this month, a lot earlier than normal in such a mild winter. It's been 8-10 degree for weeks except for the occasional day near freezing. 

Almost at the end of my walk I met briefly with Ashley and Julie at Riverside surgery where he was collecting medication. RadioNet business has altogether ceased now and winding up the company formally has started, thankfully without debts. All that remains is to complete the clearance of the office prior to surrender and dispose of radio assets, then by the end of next month it will be all over,  apart from submitting closing accounts, almost eleven years since the service first launched. I believe we served the city centre very well indeed in that time, but our best efforts were eclipsed by self interested political gamesmanship, rather than by a genuine concern to maintain highest standards of service. Nobody will thank us for what we achieved so consistently for so long. Amnesia is rampant the business world, which is why so few lessons are learned when mistakes are made or con-tricks succeed.

Walking home from our meeting, I saw the January Full Moon, aka Wolf Moon above the rooftops in a cloudless sky. A wonderful sight. There's an eclipse of the moon tonight, a special moment in the lunar year, when sun earth and moon are in perfect alignment and the moon is swallowed by the earth's shadow. Unfortunately there's a veil of clouds tonight, so the visual effect of the dimming of the moon's light by the earth's shadow won't be obvious. Stymied again by the weather.

I sent my euro PTO application by email this afternoon. Next I must obtain the Spanish police check certificate to add to the process. My Llandaff PTO on CRB check runs out in April, so I have asked to be sent application form for this one as well, rather than wait to receive a notification. Next thing after that will be a passport application. Not that I want a new blue post brexit one, but mine runs out in September this year, and the chances are that I'll be away as the expiry date approaches, making things that much more fraught if there are delays, which seems inevitable with such a major change in view. And there's the International Driving Permit to obtain also. Sad and sorry things in my life.

A story re-told from a different angle

Clare and Ann went to the spa for a swim Monday morning. I did the weekly grocery shopping and prepared lunch. Then, I rang Jacquie the patient care coordinator to see if there was any news about my next surgical pre-op appointment, as it's due around half term week. We'd like to take a holiday when it's Clare's school half term, so it was worth checking in case a date clash arises. We wouldn't want to cause any further delay in this long process. So far, Jacquie said she could see nothing in the surgeons' diary, but she promised to enquire and get back to me tomorrow. It rained intermittently, but cleared enough to go for a walk before supper without getting soaked. 

Ann returned by train to Felixstowe this morning. I'm looking forward to us visiting her for the last time in the family home in Kirton before she moves into a smaller more manageable house in Felixstowe. The Parish interregnum ends with the induction of our new Team Rector Frances Wilson on October 22nd. Then Emma goes on maternity leave, so there may be more local calls on my time after that, but I am determined to take time out, and get away from Cardiff, both to East Anglia and further afield, if opportunity presents itself. But plans remain on hold. Jacquie called again to say that the surgeon's secretary is meeting Mrs Cornish to plan dates tomorrow. 

A request came in from Emma to take a funeral at St John's a week today. It's two months since I last had one, rather a long time compared to the usual demand, often threatening to overwhelm the clergy in a populous parish like Canton. Apparently there's been an unusual dip in the Summer death rate, accounting for this, and it's meant less work for some funeral company employees as well.

Ann left me a copy of John Le Carre's recent book 'A Legacy of Spies' to read. It's a reprise of the tale he told half a century ago in 'The Man who came in from the Cold', featuring some of the key players in his spy-catching masterpiece 'Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy', but all looked at from the perspective of participant Peter Guillam, now retired and in his eighties. This time the tragic events of the original book are examined in the context of secret service politics and internal bureaucracy. Fascinating and enjoyable to read.