Legacy of violence

Both Clare and I had a disturbed night. She felt dizzy for no accountable reason and stayed in bed most of the morning. I was feeling lethargic but managed to record and edit the audio for next week's Morning Prayer and Reflection, make the video slide show and upload it to YouTube, before cooking lunch. Then I did a heavy grocery shopping trip, but still didn't get everything we needed, so Clare and I went out to the shops together for the missed items. 

It was getting dark by the time we got home so I continued walking into the park under a clear sky. It was wonderful to see a waxing moon, Venus, Jupiter, Saturn and Mars shining in an arc above me once more. All too often, cloud obscures the night sky. Worth braving the twilight chill for this.

After supper I watched both episodes of 'Silent Witness', telling the story of two army veterans suffering from an undiagnosed traumatic brain injury, leading to a succession of violent murders in a tragic chain of events. It's set in the context of Nicky and Jack deciding to move from cohabitation to marriage. While it's very romantic, a shadow of uncertainty over the future is implied when Jack finds out that a contemporary from his days as an amateur boxer has lost all his memory. Also a product of traumatic brain injury. It's the last double episode in this 28th series. It's a very popular show, so I'd be surprised if there wasn't a 29th.

In Gaza the ceasefire still holds. The dreadful task of recovering bodies from ruined buildings throughout the Strip, after eighteen months of war has raised the death toll to 61,000. And now there are more deaths in West Bank territory as the Israeli army conducts 'security operations' against armed Palestinian militant groups, with more innocent civilians killed than jihadis, and many family homes being bulldozed with the same excuse. Nothing new there in a long history of Israeli occupation. Trump is ambitious to do deals to resolve all the problematic relationships between Middle Eastern countries and claim he has brokered peace in the region. It would almost be a miracle if he succeeded. One miracle he cannot make happen however, is the healing of innocent Palestinians, brutalised, dispossessed and bereaved over generations. A huge open wound, impossible to heal or forget in a future yet to be forged by peacemaking deals.

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.

Darkness, a lost old friend

It wasn't easy to stay warm in the night with the temperature dropping to minus two. Early on I woke up in the middle of a lovely dream in which Clare urged me to join her in the garden and look up at the stars in a clear night sky. Thin high cloud this morning, the sun shines through it, but the temperature hovers around freezing. Still no snow. 

On my way home from town in the dark yesterday, I was aware there were fewer bikes on the path beside the river. It made me realise that the demise of the city's Next Bike scheme due to significant abuse and vandalism means fewer moments of being dazzled by LED bike lamps. A scheme for electric scooter hire is being mooted, I learned. These too, have dazzling LED lights, as do cars. This is raising some concern about eye health, and there are calls for the high standard of luminosity to be reduced. 

The replacement of sodium lamps by LED in public lighting does, in my view, improve night visibility on the streets, but the impact on nocturnal animals is going to be detrimental. It only diminishes light pollution if the design of lamp housings reduces upward light overspill. Bright light from so many vehicles, bikes and scooters also adds to the impact, robbing urban areas of completely starlit skies. What a loss this is to humankind, our primal source of awe and wonder. 

After breakfast I walked to St Catherine's to celebrate the Eucharist with ten others today. Marlene, one of our numbers is ninety next week, and we have enough regular who'll soon be the same age. Amazing women, shining light of faith and love in their eyes.

Afterwards I collected the veggie bag from Chapter, and was surprised to see only half the usual number of deliveries in the chest containing veggie bags. I'm always among the first to collect. That's a surprising downturn to a popular service. Is this seasonal selection not attractive, or are people economising on their expenditure. I hope not. These organic veggies last longer anyway and save money.

Clare made lunch early. She cooked a pork steak for me with brown onion gravy which made it delicious with spuds parsnips and cabbage. She went out to an afternoon appointment with the research team at the School of Optometry testing new equipment and procedures leaving me with both batches of grocery shopping to do. 

I'm Still puzzling over the problematic Powerpoint file display on my PC. I ran the file sent out on WhatsApp and found that it worked perfectly on a phone. It's a relief to know I've not been sending out gobbledygook files for others to read.

With my mind set at rest, I collected Clare's Beanfreaks order, then did the Co-op grocery shopping, all before sundown. A lot of pavement pounding. No walking in the park today. 

After supper, I watched this week's episode of 'Silent Witness' on catchup. Then, I braved a chilly shower room to wash my hair before going to bed, still pondering on the critique of a social media driven contemporary society embedded in the story-line of tonight's complex episode.

Feeling the cold

A bright clear sky sunny start to the day. Housework as usual on Mondays after breakfast. I then continued working on talks to go with the Lent programme and Clare cooked lentil curry for lunch. A cold wind blew when I went out for an afternoon walk. It was seven degrees but felt much closer to zero. Only when I felt chilled did I remember that I bought a new long winter overcoat a few weeks ago but it's not been hanging on the coat rack but the space under the stairs, Out of sight, out of mind. I'd better move it!

I checked the progress of the snowdrops on the avenue through Pontcanna Fields. More are emerging now, including several small clumps of them, as opposed to single ones. I met Gareth from St Catherine's with his wife Irene on the path by the Taff, and learned that they're going to be in Fuengirola while we're there. They're keen about taking their daily paseo so no doubt we'll see them out and about unless they come to church first.

Clare had a visit from Diana while I was out and they talked until it was nearly seven. Meanwhile, I tidied one of my Google photos accounts and archived a few gigabytes of locum photos to an archive hard drive. It's a fiddly process and takes time. It's the sort of thing you can occupy yourself with when you've nothing better to do and are avoiding concentrating on work.

After supper I watched this week's double episode of 'Silent Witness' back to back on my laptop, as Clare was watching something else on telly. Despite the heating being on, I found the middle room chilly, so I put on my new overcoat for the duration. It's just right to wear when sitting around and just watching.

An unusually complex case about 'county lines' drug running recruitment and people moving illegally across borders both ways, for reasons of than exploitation. Complex, and hard to follow. So many people, so many twists and turns in the story it was hard to follow. So many long chase sequences on foot that could be cut out and save ten minutes air time, while compressing the story-line un-necessarily in others. Rather odd really. Nice to go to sleep under a clear sky with a waning wolf moon visible high above.

The risk from being too big to fail

Another dull day, waking up to news that 40% of the Tory MPs voted in favour of a no confidence. He's not likely to take the hint and resign however, and there's no clear contender to replace him yet. Recent letters of resignation from government posts by disaffected MPs, plus some very public renunciations by others saying in advance how they intend to vote, and vocal criticism in the House of Commons all seem to wash over him like water off a duck's back. And next month two by-elections in Tory help seats whose outcome will also express the mood of voters. All very damaging for the reputation of the party. 

Ministers point out all his achievements over the past two years as testimony to his leadership, as if these were due to him alone, and not to civil servants and government ministers doing their best in response to crisis. Any party in power would do the same, and its civil servants, perhaps even better, and not so wastefully or in a way that is indifferent to reality of suffering Boris' leadership and team players have caused.

Clare went out early for her study group in Penarth, leaving me to receive our monthly deliver of fish from Ashton's. Another day with the aroma of salmon soup being cooked for tomorrow. I made lunch, right on time for Clare's return, having spent time writing emails, finishing and uploading Thursday's prayer video. Mother Francis rang me about a funeral on her day off in two weeks time, and after eating I prepared the order of service for a graveside funeral I'm doing this week.

I went into town on the bus after lunch to see if I could find a replacement for my lost fitbit but was unsuccessful. The model has been superceded by others more sophisticated with a different design. All I really want is to to replace the one I lost. I think I'll have to take my chances with an internet purchase, though I'd much rather buy from a real life store. However convenient it can be to buy everything you want on line, it is creating a social and economic mono-culture reducing the variety of ways in which trade is conducted. As we know from nature mono-cultures reduce biodiversity and put the world at risk of catastrophe when food crops on which we depend fail. As we're seeing with the impact of the war in Ukraine on the world wide distribution of grain.

This evening, another improbable episode of 'Blacklist' on telly, and part six of the latest series of 'Silent Witness'. Co-incidentally both had underlying innovative medical science themes, indicative of concern if not fascination with paradigm shifting discoveries in all sorts of fields, the fears and suspicions these can arouse. It annoys me that story lines often give the illusion of speed and effectiveness in running forensic tests, for the sake of compressing the narrative. Investigative tools appear to deliver results like magic, effortlessly done, not reliant on expense or availability of resources. More like magic that real world research. So easy to awaken false hopes in the needy and scientifically illiterate. Not a good idea, even if it is only entertainment.

Safeguarding revisited

I couldn't decide if soreness at the back of my throat over the weekend was due to mild hay fever or a cold developing. When I woke up this morning I had a thick head which felt just like a cold. I can't imagine how I picked this up. It's the first I've had for over a year.

After breakfast I called the daughter whose mother's funeral I'm taking on Thursday. Then I had an email to respond to about wedding blessing arrangements for the service in Sotogrande in the week after I arrive in Estepona. 

Job done, I got as far as vacuuming the carpets and was then distracted from washing the floor by an email offering me a place on a Eurodiocese safeguarding training course in the first week of July. I've waited fifteen months to take the course after having missed the previous one due to a mix up over the time the first Zoom conference started. I noticed the date notification on the confirmation email now has all three time zones covered by Diocese in Europe chaplaincies, clearly labelled, so you have to think about which is your local time when adding it to the diary. 

Last time round, I did the preparatory course work writing a response to four standard questions about safeguarding. It took me a while to track down the archived file, and when I re-read it, saw a number of points which needed to be added or modified. It will be good to complete this course before my next spell of locum ministry starts. Things will have changed over the past two years. 

By the time I'd finished it, was ten to one. Clare was washing the floors, while I got on with cooking pasta with stir fried veg and mussels for lunch. It took me thirty five minutes. Delicious, quite fast food!

The loss of my fit-bit was still bugging me, as I miss it already, and have to carry my phone around with me all the time and use its built in pedometer, not as accurate as having one strapped to the wrist. Why it should matter to me to keep track is really to do with knowing if I've done more or less the right amount of activity in a day, to learn why some days I feel much more tired than others, whether it's natural physical tiredness, stress or maybe a cold, or lacking sleep. It's also about understanding the impact of ageing on my body, and what constitutes a sustainable daily activity level, adequacy not super fitness.

Anyway, after lunch I went over to St German's by bus to search the sacristy and retrace my steps from Sunday, but after half an hour's searching I still couldn't find it. Sad. I'll have to buy another.

This evening, I watched a delightful episode of Springwatch with webcam footage of birds hatchng and chicks growing, plus the birth of some badger cubs, possibly the first time this has been observed and recorded. The programme also showed several warblers being ringed - reed, sedge and Cetti's, all found on a Northumbrian nature reserve. It was lovely to have live close ups pictures of the three different kinds being held briefly after ringing was completed. The differences between them were much easier to see than on the page of a book. Then, the fifth episode of Silent Witness, with more intrigue, deaths and disappearances. Dark dealings between medical researchers and big data companies. The last episode of this new series tomorrow. It's spot the villain time again!

Wriggle triumphant

This morning after breakfast Kath and Rhiannon accompanied us for the drive to Warwick University Arts Centre car parking prior to the final Wriggledance performance of 'Squidge' in the studio theatre, with enough space for equipment and two dozen children with parents to participate in the interactive performance. It was wonderful to witness the live performance and the response of the very young audience to the two dancers who played their part so beautifully. 

Anto, as the accompanying musician and sound effects man was in his element, a real Pied Piper on stage. It was very gentle and sensitive in approach to allowing children to join in on their own terms, either playing or just sitting an wondering at the ever changing stage lights and movement of the artists. The 28 stage tour has been a lot of hard work, fraught with technical difficulty, and thankfully it's been very well received. Quite a feat to attract audiences at the tail end of a pandemic.

Taking photos in a high contrast studio environment with lots of movement was quite a challenge. I was a bit nervous about the task at first, sitting at the back on a chair, shooting over the audience heads, but the Olympus responded well most of the time. My photos are here.

After the show, we took Rhiannon back to Kenilworth and bought food for a picnic lunch on the journey home. Kath and Anto had to stay behind to strike the set and pack up all the equipment. And when that's done, there'll be reports to write for the Arts Council. What next from Wriggledance I wonder?

There were a few rain showers as we drove south and west. We stopped to eat in a Costa coffee car park outside Evesham, reached home after four and then went for a walk in the park before supper. It was a relief to find that Clare coped well with the two and a half hour journey and only one break en route in both directions. That's more time sitting without pain and discomfort than has been possible until now, a positive step on the way to full recovery.

Later in the evening I watched yesterday's episode of 'Silent Witness' before watching this evening's, the fourth of a series of six episodes which seem to be linked together by some sort of spy thriller intrigue sub plot alongside the usual run of forensic investigation into untimely deaths. Some interesting new characters in the current series, as well as the return of Amanda Burton reprising her previous role - or is she? Always the goodie two shoes in the early years of this long running dramatic marathon, now she seems to have changed, and it's not just a question of being twenty years older.

Return of an old favourite

Another  bright sunny day, although a little colder. After breakfast, I took some photos of flowers in the garden before hanging out a load of washing to dry. Then I did the week's grocery shop at the Coop while Clare prepared the lunch for cooking in the steamer. All I had to do was switch the stove on, let it cook, then lay the table and serve it up when she returned from her morning walk. It's good to see her slow but sustained improvement. 

I had another exchange of emails with Jean, the chaplaincy worship arranger with a draft of my first Sunday there. A good way to learn about their customised liturgical format. It seems that a variety of Eucharistic prayers are used there from time to time. That'll make a change from using just one of the half a dozen available to use here in Wales.

After lunch, I drafted a eulogy for Friday's funeral and prepared an order of service to go with it. Then I went for a walk around Llandaff Fields. At the edge of a woodland patch a magpie was perched on a fallen branch and didn't move when I drew close to take a photo. There was a flurry of wings and screeches of alarm from another bird, a thrush I think. It dived at the magpie in an aggressive way, then flew past, narrowly missing me. I could hear the same bird in a tree thirty yards away issuing the same angry noise. I wondered if the magpie was too close to the other bird's nest, preventing it from feeding its young, or its hatching eggs.

This evening I watched the first episode of the new 'Silent Witness' series 25 on iPlayer, as I missed it last night, then after a break watched the second episode live. A complex case with evidence capable of being mis-interpreted, with mixed motives and conflicts of interest getting in the way of straightforward scientific enquiry. Amanda Burton returns to the series after seventeen years, playing her older self in the role of the original lead pathologist Sam Ryan, now a senior international figure, and this generates some interesting dramatic tension. It's going to be an interesting series to watch.

Matthewtide

Fifty two years today since I was made Deacon and started serving my title in Caerphilly. A sunny Monday morning, with cleaning chores to be done before I could get started on preparations for next week's Thursday Office. After lunch, a walk around the park, feeling lethargic as I didn't sleep for long enough last night. I relaxed in front of the telly when I got back with another episode of 'Floodlands' before supper. I went to bed early to work on writing my play and to watch the newest episode of NCIS, featuring guest star Cote de Pablo which sees the closure of the Ziva David storyline, making possible a return to her daughter and her lover/former partner Tony diNozzo.

After twenty one months of almost continuous wearing my Samsung fitbit watch strap started to break up last week. It's an early model with an uncommon strap, whose design was subsequently changed. They are available on-line, mostly through Amazon. I don't have an Amazon account and laugh whenever I get one of those robotic scam calls telling me unusual sums of money have been charged to my Amazon account and that I should enquire about this with their security hotline. I want to keep it that way. Some vendors use PayPal. I tried that service but wasn't comfortable with it. Finding a vendor for this item from whom I can buy just using a credit card is proving difficult. I can find a store anywhere which any longer sells such a small ticket item. It's rather frustrating, to say the least. For the moment the wrist band is held on by pieces of thick elastic thread. It looks awful but it works.

The Feast of St Matthew the Apostle today - the one who has watched over my ministry since I was made Deacon on the eve of his fiesta. Another warmish sunny day. I stayed in all morning to take delivery of some parcels while Clare went to her study group. I did some more preparatory work on next week's Morning Prayer audio and then cooked lunch. A call came in asking me to do a funeral at Pidgeon's Chapel of Rest two weeks today The audio I eventually recorded and edited before going out for my daily walk. My route took me to Peacock's store on Cowbridge Road, where I was able to purchase a much needed black shirt. It's tailored to a slim fit and looks good on me now. Nine months ago, I couldn't have fitted into it. I also went to the pharmacy in King's Road and booked myself in for a 'flu jab. This will be done a week Thursday.

After supper, I watched both this week's episodes of 'Silent Witness' while doing my daily Duo Lingo drill. Maybe I didn't give it my full attention, but I'm not sure how well the threads of the complex investigation all fitted together in the final resolution. Much the same as last week.

Mystifying mumbling

After breakfast this morning, I walked to the Co-op to do the week's grocery shopping live, to spare Clare the hassle of doing it on-line as she's done since lockdown started. A little bit of the old normality resumed for pleasure. There was quite a queue at the checkout after I'd gathered my purchases. Just on of the five tills was working. I noticed a Deliveroo rider leaving with a heavy pack, someone's on-line order. It occurred to me that several of the counter staff were out in the store behind the store picking and packing ol-line orders. The regular staff must still be under a lot of pressure.

After cooking and eating lunch with Clare I walked over to the museum, my first visit since I met Laura Ciobanu for a coffee there on her visit from Romania three years ago. The museum re-opened a couple of months ago with all the necessary safety procedures in place but with several exhibition galleries out of action, as major roof repairs are still in progress. I didn't realise you still had to pre-book on-line, until I reached there, but the stewards on the door kindly registered my contact details on the spot, since they weren't all that busy and had room for more visitors. 

The main feature at the moment is a biographical exhibition about the life of Welsh actor Richard Burton, with photos and artifacts as well as texts telling of his up-bringing in the Afan Valley and his career as a Shakesperian actor and film star. In later life he lived and died a resident of Celigny (GE) where my friend Valdo was pastor when I was Chaplain in Geneva eight years after Burton's demise. I remember being shown his modern house at the edge of the village which he named 'Pays de Galles'.

I took my Sony HX300 with me into town and took some photos before visiting Cardiff Camera Centre to see if it would be worthwhile having it repaired, as it has developed a permanent error message, and the manual ring which alters telephoto length no longer works. For the time being, with a simple workaround it still takes good photos, but I think it's days are numbered as my HX50 developed the same fault and died on me three years ago. It turns out the cost of fixing it is more than the camera is now worth, so I'll just have to keep using it as it is until it packs in. It's a shame I can't repair it myself but it requires specialist tools to dismantle it.

After supper I watched yesterday's first part of a new story in a new series of 'Silent Witness' on BBC iPlayer, then the second one live. A complex plot with a confused crisis type ending, made unintelligible by mumbled dialogue. I'll have to watch the last five minutes again with sub-titles to understand how it actually finished. I've had the same trouble also with newer episodes of NCIS, reduced to guessing what's being said, even with the volume turned up. Am I that deaf or is this some new style of acting aiming to keep the audience in the dark?

Job done at last

I woke up early after retiring late last night, so I woke up tired. After breakfast, rather fearful of making mistakes and having to re-print and re-fill the dreaded Spanish police check application form, I steeled myself and got to work.

It took me two hours to fill in, and much longer over the past fortnight to figure out exactly what I needed to do correctly. Legalese in a foreign culture is just as hard to decode if you're not an insider, no matter what the language. In the end I had to ring the diocesan administrator and quiz her about a few outstanding points, but once reassured, I was able to complete the job.

By midday, I'd taken it to the Post Office and sent it off recorded delivery. A thin A4 envelope, it cost me eight pounds to send, which astonished me. It's now a matter of waiting for a reply. I wonder if I'll get an operation date before my CRB certificate arrives from Spain? Admittedly I should hear about the former this week, but you never know with the NHS.

Late afternoon, I walked with Clare to the coach station where she bought herself a new coach card and booked a ticket to Heathrow for when she takes a flight to Phoenix to visit Rachel and Jasmine in two weeks time. After a few days of relatively mild weather a chill wind blew over Pontcanna Fields. I was feeling sluggish and tired, not having had enough sleep last night, and it made walking at a brisk pace an effort. Clare walked the mile and a quarter to the coach station a lot faster than I in an effort to get warm, and arrived there a couple of minutes ahead of me. 

I watched the conclusion of this week's 'Silent Witness' episode, started last night. It was very good in portraying the dilemmas of a busy forensic scientist daughter accompanying her dying mother with Alzheimer's disease, as one of the narrative threads running alongside a complex case. Beautifully acted by Liz Carr.