Birdsong audit

We seem to alternate this winter between overcast rainy days and blue sky sunny days with afternoon showers. Today is one of the latter. I had just under six hours sleep, waking at seven, having got to bed just before midnight and losing an hour awake in the night. The impact of the meds was less pronounced and my head was clear once they took effect after breakfast and. No pins and needles sensation in my head today but sleepy enough after lunch to need an hour in bed to recover. The variability in my reaction is unpredictable. It's hard to know what I'm going to be capable of tackling as the day goes on.

The Green Party won a substantial parliamentary by-election victory in the Greater Manchester area yesterday. Andy Burnham, the popular and effective Mayor of Manchester offered himself as a candidate for a traditional Labour seat but was not selected, when it could have been won against right and left wing opponents. Losing this winning opportunity is an embarrassing own-goal for the Labour Party. Perceived as a rival leader to Keir Starmer, the excuse given for Burnham's non selection as a candidate was that he was doing too good a job as Mayor, and a mayoral by-election couldn't be afforded by the party. Methinks Starmer and his camp followers may live to regret this.

I went out to enjoy the sunshine walking in Llandaff Fields and heard the eerie cry of a Green Woodpecker in the coppice opposite Howells School. The Merlin bird app, identified this along with the song of a robin a wren, a blackcap, a blackbird, a redwing, a song thrush, a mistle thrush, a wood pigeon and a magpie. Ten different birds in the same patch of bushes and trees. I listened to the recording later in the day, but sadly forgot to save it. Such biodiversity in our parks, more than in our street's back gardens. These are dominated by crows, magpies, gulls, wood pigeons and starlings roosting in the roof eaves, and sometimes passing sparrows and tits. There's not enough vegetation cover for smaller birds where there's decking or paved patios. 

I went for another circuit of Llandaff fields after my post lunch siesta. It started to drizzle before sunset and more rain is forecast for later tonight. The roar of the Taff over the weir at Blackweir bridge was audible from the Spine Road five hundred metres away. The water level must be high at the moment.

I watched another fine episode of 'Lolita Lobosco' after supper, to take my mind off doing things I don't have energy to tackle at the moment with my 'toxic head' impeding my ability to tackle them. It's not a good place to be. I feel as if I'm not fully in control of my senses. I want to avoid slipping into panic mode and raising my blood pressure even more. Time to take refuge in sleep as best I can.

The passing of a prophet for our age

The air temperature dropped in the night. I had to get up and find a hat to wear in bed to stay warm but I didn't lose much sleep fortunately. It was zero degrees when I got up but no frost just a dry day. Although my head was clear, the morning meds had an unusually strong impact on me, lasting into the afternoon. I  don't know why, but it slowed me down and made concentration hard work to turn an album of photos into a video slideshow of Rhiannon's 21 years. It's her 22nd birthday today. I made her a digital birthday card and recorded a sung greeting from Clare and I as well. 

After lunch I had a call from a medic working with Dr Tom Hughes, asking me questions about the nasty effect the statins are having on me. A lengthy interview, challenging me to describe accurately what I have noticed recently and back in 2007 when I first renounced them because of ill effects. The stroke has made my reaction much more sensitive. The real concern is the combined effect of taking the Losartan as well. After a twenty five minute conversation, I was promised another call next Tuesday to report his findings and propose an alternative statin. Progress!

In the mail, a final account statement from TalkTalk. I was mentally drained to deal with it after talking on the phone for so long, so I put it on one side without opening it. I have yet to deal with Owain's draft letter of complaint about this to OFCOM.

In the news headlines today, the death at 84 was announced of the Reverend Jesse Jackson, one America's great civil rights advocates, and successor of Martin Luther King. An outstanding preacher and evangelist for social justice. His inspirational exhortation "Keep hope alive. Keep hope alive. Keep hope alive!" was the call of a twentieth century prophet. He worked tirelessly on the economic front to open career paths for poor and downtrodden black people. May he rest in peace and rise in glory. 

It's also the anniversary of the martyrdom of Archbishop Janani Luwum today as well, a prophet and a moral and spiritual giant of our age, who in 1977 met a violent end for speaking truth to power under the tyrannical regime in Uganda of Idi Amin

I went out for a walk in Llandaff Fields at three when the after effect of the meds and a lengthy telephone conversation started to wear off. After supper, I found two new crimmies to watch on 'Walter Presents'. A puzzling episode of 'Astrid - Murder in Paris' which I hadn't seen, and a whole new series of 'Indagini de Lolita Lobosco', mixing romantic comedy with arms trafficking and the murder of a secret agent tracking the organised crime gang. All worries set aside for a couple of hours before bed time.

Covid jab day

To my surprise, a good night's sleep, more relaxed, benefiting from getting to bed earlier. I remembered to drink more water at breakfast time, to replace the amount I pee out at night. Though the cloud cover broke up yesterday afternoon to give us a beautiful mackerel sky for a while before sunset, it was overcast again and grey this morning. As my medication regime is now less complex than it was a couple of weeks ago I set about editing my daily medication tick sheet file, made for me by Owain. It was in pdf format. It took a while to remember what I had to do with the version stored in Google Docs, which was uncooperative to say the least. I had to convert the pdf to docx using an online conversion app in Adobe Acrobat, and edit it using Open Office and then upload it to Google Docs ready to print off later. 

After an early lunch, I did a circuit of Llandaff Fields before taking a taxi with Clare to arrive at the Bay Scout Den, Grangetown's vaccination centre, for our covid jabs at two thirty. It didn't seem very busy, mostly people in our age group. Fifteen minutes later we were on our way to a bus stop nearby for a number 7 bus that toured around parts of Grangetown I didn't know, taking half an hour to return to the City Centre. When we got on, Clare took  out her expired bus card, causing the ticket machine to issue an embarrassing loud noise, but the driver issued her a ticket anyway. Meanwhile she retrieved the renewed card, but the driver didn't ask to see it. Drivers are probably used to old people muddling up cards.

At the City Centre bus Hub a number 61 was waiting to leave and we were back home again eating choc ices by four. A couple of teenagers got on. One of them said he'd lost his phone and travel card and didn't have the means to pay, or convince the driver he was genuine. He and his mate started to get belligerent so the driver pressed a panic button which emitted a loud alarm call. The boys got off and made themselves scarce. No benefit of the doubt for them. Did they not appear to be of school age in the driver's eyes? Was the story he was told true or not? Will it teach the lads a lesson about being careful with your bus pass and your phone, maybe keeping them separate, however inconvenient? An hour's walk home won't do the lad any harm and may reinforce the lesson learnt. I'll never know.

After returning home and taking my tea time meds, I did another circuit of Llandaff Fields to complete my current daily step goal of 10,500 around 8km. I may do more but I'm not going to increase the goal to 10km as it has been for several years, until I can do so comfortably. My legs and joints are stiffer and take longer to warm up, so the walk is taking me longer but I'm not in a hurry and must avoid tiring myself out. Fitness will return as long as I keep going at a steady modest pace every day.

After supper I watched a couple of episodes of Rocco Schiavone. He's with his Roman childhood mates in Latin America, searching for one of their number who betrayed Rocco and got the love of his life murdered. His mates are out for revenge on the traitor. They follow a trail which goes from Buenos Aires to Mexico City and then to Costa Rica across two episodes in which Italian and Spanish exchanges of dialogue take place, making this an interesting exercise in comprehension, not over reliant on subtitles as I'm familiar enough with both languages to enjoy following. It turned out to be a moving finale with the discovery that the traitor had a wife and two teenage children none of his Roman mates knew about. The desire to express anger and the hunt for revenge dissipated. They left the traitor alone with an indication that his old friends had found him. There would be no question of punishing his family for his betrayal. Enough suffering had come from his failure to protect his childhood friends, and he was forever separated from them as a result. A sad ending, but in many ways a noble spirited one. Time for bed already.

Eucharistic homecoming

I think I must have slept rather well. My phone notification to take my first round of pills surprised me into wakefulness at nine. I resolved last night to walk to church this morning. I know I can do the distance, especially if I'm refreshed by sleep and breakfast. Clare, Kath and I walked together to St Catherine's for the Harvest Festival Family Eucharist. The sky, autumnal overcast again, noisy leaf blowers at work clearing leaves in Severn Grove. Thankfully I'm a little more resilient to noise and flurries of movement now than a few days ago, but conscious of constraints in my field of vision when I'm not in bright light and I'm slower to recognise objects and people as a result. 

I received a loving welcome from several congregation members. It was so fulfilling just being there in our usual pew near the altar, with children in front and around us, engaging with Fr Sion as he started some yeast to show the children how it works, as part of his address. Participating in the routine normality of Sunday Mass in a familiar reconnected me to the life of the Spirit at the beating heart of the church in a way that's healing, as it is reassuring. An oasis after a sojourn in a 'dry weary land where no water is ..' It's the same experience of connectedness as I had when receiving the Sacraments from clergy colleagues in A&E

The last time I sat there a month ago, the clot on my brain's occipital lobe was making its impact felt. Today I could see the altar and the eucharistic action clearly, and stand with Clare and Kath to receive Communion without stumbling and clinging to furniture. I was apprehensive about my emotional reaction on top of the stimulus of being in a lively group of people but wasn't overwhelmed, rather I felt uplifted, overjoyed, at home again in God's house, among friends.

Last night Clare prepared the foraged crab apples, cooked them and hung up the boiled mass in a bag to strain out the juice. Alongside making lunch, Clare added the soft brown sugar to the juice which I bought when out for a walk yesterday evening, ready for the transformation of the mixture into crab apple jelly. It's not a huge amount, two small jars, but it brings home a special taste of autumn fruit, subtly spicy and aromatic.

When we'd eaten Kath helped me to open savings accounts with on-line banking, to decant some of my unspent pension into. Santander's current account interest rate has dropped recently, so there's an incentive to take a fruitful initiative. Then she returned to Kenilworth. She has work tomorrow. I walked in Llandaff Fields for an hour before sunset. Owain called to check me out when I was walking. After supper, a new episode of 'Ice Cold Murders' with Inspector Rocco Schiavone in the Val d'Aosta. He investigates a rich young addict's death during Mardi Gras spent in a remote alpine winter chalet with a few friends and relatives. Much of the episode consists of Rocco questioning three other young people staying at the chalet about what led to the disappearance of their friend, exposing the weakness of their story ending with a crime and cover-up being admitted. Meanwhile the CSI and forensic team work in the background to inform him. It's a splendid example of interview cum interrogation, full of subtle tension. It reminded me of dialogues in the 'Line of Duty' interrogation scenes. And now bed.

Mackerel with raspberries

Mostly cloudy again, but warm 22C. Despite a decent night's sleep, I woke up with tense shoulders and neck which I couldn't unwind for much of the day. After breakfast when Clare went out I decided to record and edit the audio for Morning Prayer the week after next. It wasn't quiet enough in my usual recording spot as scaffolders were working down the street, as they did yesterday. Their activity obstructed the street entrance, so the recycling lorry couldn't get in. The full bags sit out on the street neatly arrayed, waiting for the collection to resume. I wonder if anyone has told the Council about the omission?

Anyway, I made the recordings in the middle room instead, and was pleased to find that they weren't too resonant, and easy to clean up a tiny amount of background noise. I stopped to cook lunch, and continued editing afterwards. We had mackerel fillets with broad beans, spuds, carrots and chard stems. Jasmine collected a handful of raspberries from our garden bush to cook with the fish in the steamer, a surprise for her, and a pleasure for me. Some years ago we had lunch in a Brecknockshire pub serving trout with raspberries, which tasted good. Remembering this inspired to try this with mackerel.

Jasmine and Louie went to the castle, and Clare went out again. I made a brief excursion to Tesco's for cooking oil and a few other things. I exchanged emails with Kate Williams our personal travel agent, and found out that she'll be checking in our flights to Portugal and producing tickets for us. She asked if I'd send her copies of our passports and travel insurance policies for the benefit of Riviera Travel. This took me a while to produce, it was gone six by the time I went out to walk in the park for an hour and a half. 

I returned and had supper late, then watched another episode of 'The Sommerdahl Murders', the last of series two. Apparently there are five series altogether, forty episodes, one crime each double episode, with a soap opera style story line about the love lives and relationships of characters in the crime solving team. I suppose I've got used to this by now. At first it seemed rather ponderous, and I kept wondering when and how it was going to end. Well, now I know. There's another two dozen episodes to come, one series at a time. I don't know how long it will be until series 3 is screened 

Forgotten

I woke up at seven fifteen and posted today's Morning Prayer link to What's App, then dozed until I got up at eight. By the time we'd eaten breakfast the rain stopped and the streets quickly dried by the time I was ready to go to the St Catherine's Eucharist. 

Writing the blog every day is an opporunity to reflect on things of inteest and imprance to me. It's also a way of exercising my memory, recalling mundane detail. But sometimes a minor distraction can act like a trip-wire into forgetting. I put my Fitbit on charge while I said the Office, and left home without it due to a non routine call on my atention. It's the first time I've done that in the two years I've worn it.  A full charge lasts less than half now of the three days it originally did. It's the same too with my phone, now two and a half years old, and with my Chromebooks and Windows laptop.

There were eight of us plus baby Sebastian at the service. His mum Rachel sat in the same pew as me, and Seb gave me big grins until he got wriggly and restless. He can stand in a wobbly sort of way, but then he gets frustrated and wants to crawl and haul himself up if he can. He's so keen to get moving. He's very popular with those who come on a Wednesday. Pam was with us today. She finds the Sunday service too long for her now. There we are together, from nine months to ninety years with three of us octogenarians in good repair, enjoying each other's company. We talked about Mike, former actor and theatre critic who died peacefully at home on the weekend, remembering how beautifully he read scripture when he was still well enough to be on the rota.

After coffee and a chat, I collected this week's veggie bag from Chapter. Lunch was ready by the time I got home and strapped on my fitbit and adjusted today's step/distance goals to take into account the three uncounted kilometers already walked, just to make sure my daily exercise quote is consistent. Some days I find the last few kilometers hard work, for no apparent reason, and prefer to make sure to make the effort on the 'use it or lose it' principle applied to mobility.

We had a cottage pie made from a ready made Quorn concoction for lunch. It tasted as if it was made from Bisto gravy to resemble meat I suppose. It gave me dyspepsia and took ages to digest. To be avoided in future. I'd rather make my own sauce to cook with the dehydrated version.

After lunch I made the video slideshow to accompany next week's Morning Prayer, and uploaded it. I needed to update the photo that identifies me at the start of the video now I look different with short hair, but couldn't take a selfie with my phone camera as its screen lens doesn't work properly since the last time I dropped it. Then I remembered the laptop camera. First I had to find out how it works, as I've not used it before and googled to find out how to. 

I walked in Llandaff Fields for an hour and a half, visiting the tree with the hollow stub of a branch, where I spotted a blue tit coming and going, and with patience succeeded in getting a photo of it. It pops in and out of the hollow so rapidly there are many more failures than successes with a hand held camera with a telephoto lens. It's not a very sharp picture as a result, but the bird is recognisable. The first time I noticed small birds frequenting this tree, thought they were nuthatches, similar colouration at a glance, but I was mistaken, as the photo confirms.

After supper I watched the episode of 'Panda' then one of 'The Good Doctor' before heading for bed.

Stories to make you think

An overcast start to a day with a warm easterly wind for a change. By lunchtime the sky cleared and the temperature rose to 22C. Wonderful weather.

We went into town mid-morning, taking the 24 bus from the edge of Llandaff Fields. The time displayed on the LCD screen in the bus shelter has not been advanced to summer time. On the new electric bus, the time on the LED screen showing route information was correct, but the LCD temperature and clock screen alongside it was an hour behind. LED screens being much newer, are receiving a signal via a 4G internet connection. Bus shelter LCD displays are part of a wired network separately maintained. The one on the bus, may need manual resetting when someone notices!

We visited the bank and had a drink in John Lewis', then caught a 17 bus from outside the HMRC building as far as Canton crossroads, as we were set on going to the Lent lunch at St John's. I popped into Tesco's and bought this week's food contribution to take to church. Due to a diary clash the lunch had to start at one thirty. There were a dozen of us for a choice of soups, and cake to follow. 

We walked home together. I was feeling like a snooze in the chair before going out for a walk in the park, but Owain called with the news that the paperwork for the formal offer of his new job, due to start in a month's time has finally arrived. He has to formally accept, and separately notify people managing his pay. An outdated convoluted process in the digital era typical of a civil service lethargic about reform.

On Pontcanna fields, a viewing stand with seats for nearly two hundred has been erected for next week's Urdd rugby sevens tournament. Small circles of young people occupied the grass of the football field opposite the tournament site. I was surprised to see a group of bikini clad women among the dozen  enjoying the sun.

I spent the evening watching episodes of two different Finnish crimmies that both happen to be new to Channel 4 Walter presents. One is about young people and gang culture portraying but also explaining for the benefit of older viewers what's happening to adolescents in a society where recreational drugs are commonplace, families are fragmented and parents too busy to give their children the attention they need.  The other is about the impact of a hi-tech' electric car company on a deeply rural area renowned for bad weather, and thus used for testing road worthiness of new products. The portrayal of the company CEO is reminiscent of Elon Musk! 

It's an interesting reflection on what happens when complex sophisticated modern business promising prosperity and development comes face to face with an ancient self sustaining rural way of life. It reminds me of Norwegian series 'Likkeland' telling the story of how the arrival of a Texan oil company transformed a North Sea coastal region where fishing had been the economic mainstay into the state oil production regional capitol over a thirty year period. A good story well told has greater power to catch the attention and imagination of people than any editorial or opinion article in print or podcast. The recent TV drama 'Adolescence' has raised overdue public discussion about young people deprived of family support, in the same way that 'Mr Bates and the Port Office' drama did a couple of years ago.

New router arrives

Another day of sunshine mixed with clouds with a few brief showers in the afternoon.  I woke up early, posted the YouTube link for Morning Prayer on WhatsApp, then dozed for an hour before getting up and getting ready for church.

Ukraine has agreed to a general proposal about a temporary ceasefire and peace talks. The world waits to hear whether Putin will agree to this or not. Trump says he's going to meet Putin in the coming weeks. In the light of Zelensky's agreement, the use of Musk's Starlink satellite network and US military intelligence sharing will be resumed. The same tactic was used behind the scenes to get stalled ceasefire talks between Hamas and Israel started again. More Palestinians have been killed in the time since the talks stalled, and the blockade of humanitarian aid and electricity supplies continues, as talks resume in Qatar on extending the temporary ceasefire. Netanyahu's government refuses to consider ending the conflict despite calls from world leaders to end the aggression and allow the rebuilding of Gaza to proceed. The nightmare continues for the Gaza population and the world looks on horrified, as crimes against humanity are committed again and again.

I celebrated two Eucharists today as Sion is away on a training course. We were just five at St Catherine's and seven at St John's. On the way home I collected this week's veggie bag from Chapter. Clare was busy cooking sausages for lunch when I arrived. A new router arrived in the post from TalkTalk. The package was slim enough to slip through a standard sized mailbox. I opened it and checked the content, but didn't feel the need to swap old for new straight away. A new router means a password change for all our wifi devices, five for me and five for Clare. It's better to do the lot in one go and test them, rather than do it on a basis of need, when any of them is switched on in a hurry.

A chill wind was blowing, dispersing all the cloud while I was walking up to Western Avenue and over the bridge to return on the east bank path, busy with commuting cyclists after four any working weekday, used by staff and students from Glantâf Welsh Comprehensive school in one direction, and city centre office workers in the other. I picked up eleven drink containers - cans, glass or plastic bottles on my circuit. Over the winter it's been about three a day. As the weather improves, and there are more daylight hours after work, more people come out to play sports or socialise in the park, and the amount of discarded containers increases. The distribution of existing litter bins is inadequate, but drink cans, especially energy drinks are often discarded within twenty yards of a bin. Does imbibing such sickly caffeinated beverages produce a kind of amnesia or myopia in the consumer?

After supper and the Archers I found a new crimmie to watch on Channel 4 called 'Get Millie Black'. It's about a Jamaican born detective working in London who returns home and joins the Jamaica Police Force, and when looking for a missing schoolgirl unearths a people trafficking enterprise run by organised liking Kingston and London. Running alongside this is a story of two siblings abused by a violent mother, both fleeing home when teenagers. It's about changing identities and coming to terms with the past. Much of it is filmed in Kingston. It's fantastic to hear dialogue in Jamaican patois used again in a dramatic context, even if I did end up switching on the subtitles. It takes me back to my time in St Paul's Bristol, and my visit to Kingston forty two years ago. How it's changed since then. I made myself stop and get ready for bed after a couple of episodes, saving the rest for tomorrow.

Renaissances

Another dull overcast day. Clare had a GP appointment after breakfast so I did all of the routine Monday housework, and cooked a prawn pasta dish for lunch. Good news from the doctor. Clare's CT brain scan showed no anomalies, nothing to cause concern. As ever tests will continue to see if there's something else contributing to memory loss.

After we'd eaten, I prepared next week's Morning Prayer and reflection texts for the commemoration of the beheading of John the Baptist. Coincidentally, it's the same set of readings as two years ago,  in which the murder of James the Apostle by a different Herod was recounted. I looked up the reflection I wrote at that time, revised and added to it. There are three different murderous Herods in the New Testament. How confusing! I thought it would be a good opportunity to explain this. A few odd facts here for a pub quiz.

Then I went to Tesco's for some smoked fish and a chorizo. Rain was forecast, but only a few drops well spaced fell while I was out. I stopped at while at home to have a drink, and when I started walking again it started to drizzle and did so on and off until I returned in time for The Archers and supper.

Looking for something to watch afterwards, I found an unusual French drama series on Channel 4 Walter Presents called 'Renaissances'. It's about what led up to a heart transplant for the donor and recipient, the aftermath and people involved directly and indirectly. It has all the elements of a detective mystery story in the setting of a domestic drama against the scenic backdrop of Biarritz, ticking a lot of cinematic boxes in one go. Interesting and original I think.

It was good to hear today of the Prime Minister Sir Keir Starmer's visit to Wales and his meeting with First Minister Eluned Morgan, celebrating a new beginning in the relationship between Wales and Westminster, characterised during the years of Tory Government by an adversarial attitude resembling what prevailed for the Dominions under British colonialism. There are serious economic and social problems in need of solutions that are best tackled in a partnership of respect and trust. Another renaissance to my mind.

Holy Week, mostly in the pew

Another cold dry day with clouds and sunshine. Up at eight making breakfast, and listening to BBC Radio Four Sunday Worship, which combined extracts from a contemporary open air Passion Play performed in Trafalgar Square woven together with extracts from Bach's St John Passion. I would prefer it sung in the original German to the English translation which doesn't quite capture the harsh agony of the story in a way that matches the music. Apart from the obvious time constraint on the programme, I can't see a reason for omitting the final chorale, which builds from sad reflection to end in resurrection triumph. It was well done nevertheless, a welcome change.

I drove to St German's to join the congregation for Fr Jarel's first Sunday Mass with his new congregation, a full Palm Sunday liturgy, starting with a procession from the church hall. I was pleased that he preached a brief and fitting homily for the start of Holy Week. There were over forty of us in church. I counted four clergy in the congregation, with Fr Jarel with Fr Richard as Deacon at the altar. Afterwards I introduced Basma to her new parish priest, and welcomed him myself. Afterwards over coffee we considered how to cope with the uncertainty presented by the wait to hear about official confirmation of her residence permit, when she is so keen to be baptized next Saturday. It's hard having to wait so long for certainty but from the church's standpoint, whenever she can finally say she's ready to proceed, there will be a ready response.

It was twenty to two by the time I reached home for lunch kept warm for me by my ever patient Clare. After a couple of weeks recovering from a horrible coughing virus she went to the St Catherine's Eucharist this morning. After eating, I went for a walk with my new Olympus PEN, fitted with the 14-42mm lens bought with the OMD E-M10. It's a long while since I used it, as I prefer a longer telephoto lens. The wide angle lens requires more physical movement to position yourself for the best shot. It means a change of habit to get used to this. There's only a rear screen, no viewfinder. Even so, it's a nice camera to handle.

After supper I uploaded the handful of photos, did some writing and watched 'Antiques Roadshow'. Then I found a Spanish crimmie to watch, which is the latest in a series of stories about women in prison called 'Locked up'. I didn't watch the series when it first appeared on 'Walter Presents' a few years ago as I didn't think my Spanish comprehension was adequate, but now I find I can understand most of the dialogue. The fact that some of it is mumbled means I need to check the subtitles for details. The series was shot in the Almeria desert where many spaghetti western moves were made. The story is about a group of female crooks intent on a high status jewel theft during the wedding of a narco crime boss's daughter. It's presented confusingly, switching between present and past keeping you guessing, but is meant to be a sort of homage to movies about male banditry shot in the same area. Anyway, it's a good way to get my ear attuned before I go to Nerja, that's for sure.

Handing over Sway

A day without rain with occasional glimpses of the sun. Paula came after breakfast for another session to familiarize herself with the workings of Sway and Mailchimp. We managed to cover all the key elements get her laptop logged in to the church office Mailchimp account, editing the covering email containing this week's link to Sway and sending it to recipients. For the first time since I took on the job at the end of last August, the job has been completed on a computer not my own. Paul will prepare next week's edition and we'll have a similar session side by side, going through the mailshot routine in case there are queries of any kind. I was determined that there would be a proper relaxed handover. I wouldn't wish anyone to go through my introduction to Sway and Mailchimp. Our parish e-newsletter will be in good hands hereafter.

Clare cooked lunch while we worked. We had tofu with veg for a change, with millet instead of spuds, rice or couscous. It has a very palatable texture and mild flavour that would be good to go with different sauces. I think we should eat this cooked grain more often than we have done up to now.

After lunch while Clare was having a siesta I recorded Maundy Thursday's Morning Prayer and Reflection then edited it, made the video slideshow and uploaded it to YouTube in just over two and a half hours of relaxed work without distraction. It's a sign of being under less stress, thanks both to gall bladder removal and the end of the clergy vacancy and its attendant worries. An email arrived from Fr Stewart after his meeting with Fr Jarel before his licensing to take charge of St German's. He's happy for me to baptize Basma. Details now to be arranged!

I enjoyed a brisk two hour walk, during which a caught sight of a jay up in a tree in an area where I've not seen one before. I stopped and stalked it with a camera for five minutes, and more by luck and persistence than anything else, I got a decent shot, adding to my pleasure.

After supper, I spent an hour going through my photos stored on portable had drives in search of one that I took of a huge dead tree near the playground entrance to Pontcanna Fields. The one I found dated back to the year it died. No new leaves, branches drying out but twigs not yet dry and brittle enough to blow off in a strong wind. As the twigs were stripped, the dried out bark dropped off, leaving a bare silver skeleton, imposing, dramatically beautiful, flanked by two live trees. I thought I'd taken a photo of it in its final state before it was felled, but it seems not, unless it was filed somewhere incorrectly. What a shame!

Quite by chance, checking to see what was on telly tonight, I found that More Four is just starting to show series three episodes of Astrid: Murders in Paris, just twenty minutes before it began. It's the same mixture of comedy, problem solving and drama, showcasing gifted autistic savants exercising their special gifts. Its light hearted feelgood ethos is a casual cloak for serious current issues on the criminal front. 

Tonight's episode was about a manipulative conspiracy theorist with an anti government strategy to foment protest and social disorder. Russian fake news campaigning was cited, but turned out to be a false lead. This was about a journalist making a film documentary about an astronomer and editing his footage to distort the truth. The astronomer is killed after realising he's been deceived and about to go public. It reflects the way in which someone whose sources go un-checked can lead many astray and sow chaos. This scenario was documented recently in real life cases by John Ronson, in a radio series called 'Things fell apart'. The story would have been harder to follow if I hadn't listened to his investigation before seeing this tonight.

Milestone

A cold, damp and cloudy start to Advent. I woke up thinking about devising a simple ceremony for giving Basma the New Testament in Arabic which arrived yesterday, just in time. I did this after breakfast, and I left a little later than I usually do, but fortunately arrived at St German's at the same time as Basma with then minutes to spare, in which to brief her and get ready to celebrate Mass.

She stood arm in arm with Hilary presenting her just after the blessing of the first Advent Candle and said her few lines clearly and confidently. I had wrapped the book in a beautiful patterned silk handkerchief that has been in a bedroom drawer unused over half a lifetime. It's common for Arab Muslims to keep their copy of the Qu'ran wrapped up and in a special place at home. I knew she would realise the significance of this, and that such special treatment applied equally to biblical texts. She was in tears after the ceremony, and I too was much moved. The beginning of the new Christian Year will be for Basma a milestone in a journey that has lasted twenty five years so far.

The liturgy was a little longer than usual, with the additional elements, but also because it took me longer than usual to pray my way through it, and preach. It's one of my favourite moments in the Christian Year.

I gave Basma a bible commentary as well, based on the New English Bible text, and she was given an English New English Bible to go with it. The Arabic text is a translation of the Good News Bible, and one is being ordered so she has exactly what she needs to study in, albeit confusingly in two versions of text. The first question that came up was about the Chapter and Verse numbers in the text. Thankfully they are fairly consistent, across different versions, even the Arabic, but it needed explanation. It was gone half past one by the time I got home for dinner. Clare is getting used to me arriving this late for lunch while I'm at St German's, ever patient with me, fortunately.

After lunch I slept in the chair for more than an hour, then walked in the park for an hour, in the drizzle as it got dark, returned for tea, then we both went out to the St Catherine's Advent Service of Light, attended by four dozen people, a dozen of them in the choir. There were mince pies and mulled wine in the church hall afterwards and we stayed, though not for long. We went home and listened to the Archers on catch-up. Then I watched the first episode of a twelve part Italian crimmie called 'Off Grid', about a banker who is forced to go into hiding with his family after the bank he heads collapses. He is framed for the murder of his colleague and both receive death threats. I have the early impression that this is a matter of infiltration by organised crime into working of the bank. How and why is going to take a lot of episodes to describe!

Security scandal

Another very cold night under a clear sky which stayed clear all day, sun shining and the temperature around one degree until nightfall, when dropped below zero again. Wonderful, as long as you're dressed up for it. June my sister called on WhatsApp as I was getting up at eight thirty. She's getting used to using a mobile phone, as a replacement for her landline, on which reception deteriorated over a few weeks before going dead a few days ago. 

Landlines for all the apartments in Wexford Lodge are all fed from the same input to a distribution box in her front garden, last accessed a couple of weeks ago by OpenReach engineers and accidentally left open. I suspect her particular line was partly dislodged from its terminal connectors and has worked loose since then. Getting anyone to attend to this is proving to be a nightmare. It's a rehearsal for the day when copper based connections are finally switched off, and there's no alternative to a phone connection, made through a wired or a wireless connection to the router, or directly to a 4G signal.

The King was giving the opening speech to the COP28 gathering in Dubai while we were eating our breakfast. He's the only head of state ever to have been asked to address the seventy thousand strong gathering, including many heads of state of the 130 nations attending. It honours his fifty prophetic years of conservation advocacy, warning the world about biodiversity loss, pollution, and more recently climate change, during which he has often been mocked and derided. He has earned respect for his authority, and is never heard saying "I told you so", but always proposing ways forwards. 

Another roofing contractor came by this morning to examine our roof and give us an estimate for a full replacement job in the new year. While we can still afford it out of savings. I returned to the task of understanding how to send a Mailchimp subscription invitation with Owain's help in finding a YouTube video link. From this I figured out how to do what I needed, and found it worked by sending an invitation to a new subscriber. Then I started on my Sunday sermon, though I had to stop to cook lunch, and continued writing after we'd eaten and made a couple of loaves of bread.

After taking the bread out of the oven, I  started my afternoon walk in perfect winter sunshine, again a bit later than planned, and saw another glorious sunset half way through my park circuit, arriving home in the dark, somewhat chilled. While walking the return stretch I listened to the early evening news. I was amused to hear that Rishi Sunak was photographed at COP28 with the King who was wearing tie patterned with the Greek flag, bought on a trip to Athens, one of many in his wardrobe. The media commentariat are taking this as a message of silent rebuke to Rishi Sunak for his childish refusal to meet with the Greek Prime Minister this week after he mentioned the return of the Parthenon sculptures rescued then stolen by Lord Elgin. 

How dare His Majesty express his opinion like this! But hang on, the King had a great grandmother who married the King of Greece, and became a nun in later life. That's a fair enough reason for wearing such a tie, in my opinion. Funny nobody mentions this, as controversy is needlessly stirred up yet again. Haven't the opinionated commentariat got better things to write about?

The seven days of truce in Gaza came to a violent end this morning. A hundred women and children are home free, but others are still unreleased, and no Israeli citizens or soldiers captured. Hamas is being blamed for the breakdown in the midst of proposal for more hostage exchanges and days of pause in the fighting. I wonder if they know where all the women and children are being held, as there are different factions holding some of them, who may be dictating their own terms for letting them go. Some may well be dead and this is not yet common knowledge. Fight on rather than lose face? It's stupid in the face of certain defeat in this cruel inhumane war.

News is arriving of an American journalist's well researched report into the story behind Israel's already admitted failure to realise the strength and imminence of the Hamas attack. Analysis of intelligence reports from observers on the border of the covert military activity taking place the other side of the Gaza border fence had been presented to security chiefs, but not taken seriously, rather considered only as a theoretical possibility. These reports came from observers using CCTV cameras along the fence. It's said this was a unit of trained women reporting upwards. If so it will shake to the core a male dominated military and government, in a society which thinks it's egalitarian. It'll come out in the post war public enquiry, hopefully.

The return tonight of 'Astrid - murder in Paris' on Channel Four's Walter Presents platform. Very original mystery stories that celebrate the potential of neuro-diverse people and what they can offer to society when given the opportunity and right support. We've seen the first two series of sixteen episodes so far, and there are another sixteen to go. Hopes were dashed of anything new however, by the showing of the first double episode instead of the start of the third series. What a disappointment. 

I was however able to finish watching the finale of 'Hors Saison', which maintained interest right up to the last ten minutes, when an ending destined to reveal evidence of a top cop's serious perversion of of the course of justice is suppressed in the light of the false confession made by an apprehended murder who commits suicide, perhaps because everyone feels sorry for her because of the trauma she has gone through. Also disappointing. 

Improving

I had a fair night's sleep. Fortunately my knee joint wasn't too painful, just stiff, so it meant taking extra time and care to get myself mobile when I got up. I made breakfast and took Clare's to her in bed. She was already dressed and feeling somewhat better. I've had no covid symptoms. So far so good.

I spend the morning preparing next week's Morning Prayer and Reflection, then cooked lunch. Clare came down and sat outside with her lunch in the garden. Afterwards, I recorded and edited what I'd written in the morning and started making the accompanying video slideshow. When I stopped to go for walk, it was already four o'clock. The day's work had been punctuated with getting up and down and walking a little to prevent knee stiffness from worsening. On leaving the house I had to walk slowly and didn't pick up much pace over the next hour and a half. Walking with a stiff knee without limping is physically demanding so I needed to stop and sit on a bench and relax a few times on my circuit of the Llandaff Fields.

For the second day in a row I saw a crow with a fringe of white wing and tail feathers on the same stretch of path in among the trees at the Western Avenue end. It's due to a genetic condition called leucism, and it seems the distribution of what feathers like the condition, is random. The particular bird looks distinctive from behind in flight, as all its trailing edge wing feathers are white. I got a few photos, but at a distance. Without my long telephoto lens the cropped pictures aren't all that sharp, but here are the better ones - in flight

And on the ground 

Tomorrow, I'll change to my long lens, and see what I can snap.

Autumn is really with us now. Some trees are changing colour, and some fallen leaves have beautiful colours. Easier to photograph than crows! Cricketer's apparatus - sun screens, practise nets and wicket  covers have all been stored away, leaving the pitches free for rugby pitches. The wicket covers leave behind large patches of dried grass of different hue, depending on how long it is since any of them last saw the light of day. They only get moved in the event of really heavy summer rain it seems. By the time I got home, I'd walked my daily quota without making my knee feel worse. Clare made me sit with my leg raised and an ice pack under the knee for half an hour before supper, while she prepared it. It's been at day of recovery for her, and she managed a short walk in the fresh air too.

After supper, I watched a couple of episodes of 'The Bank Hacker' on Walter Presents, and episode two of Norwegian crimmie 'For Life', investigating the sudden death of a politician with a reputation as a sexual predator while giving a party speech. It made a worthy job of portraying the various reactions of his victims to his unwanted attention. All good viewing.

Need for boundaries

A windy day, with dark clouds moving at speed, clearing for a while then re-forming, with occasional light showers. More like March than Michaelmas. After breakfast I drove to St Peter's in Fairwater to celebrate the Eucharist with twenty two others, and join people for coffee and a chat in the hall afterwards. Amazing that this midweek service is so consistently well attended, and there's double that number on Sundays. I'm scheduled to be there on Sundays a couple of times in the next quarter without having to rush away at the end to get to St Luke's for another service. Something to look forward to, as it's only ten minutes drive from home instead of 20-25 minutes from Roath, where I've been on most Sundays this last few months.

On returning home, I retrieved this week's veggie bag from Chapter, then cooked lunch and did this week's grocery shopping at the Co-op. The till staff were talking with concern about news of a break-in at Tesco Metro ar Canton Cross last night. Money tills were broken into for their cash float content, and vape display shelves were broken and emptied. Thieves entered through the roof of the rear warehouse. Damage repair will be more costly than the value of what was stolen. "It'll be us next." said the one of them, dreading the prospect.

While Clare went out to shop at Beanfreaks I made next week's Morning Prayer video slideshow and uploaded it to YouTube. She returned with a broken wheel on the shopping trolley, sadly un-repairable. Luckily, things fell apart outside our next door neighbour's house on the return trip. We now have several broken un-repairable items to take to the tip so I'll book an early afternoon visit to the Bessemer Close recycling centre tomorrow after I've taken Clare to catch her train to London for her birthday trip to see 'Abba - Voyage'.

I went out to buy Clare a birthday card. She can't decide what she'd really like, nor can I guess. When you have as much as you need, health and freedom are the things the matter and those can't be commoditised, only looked after carefully. I found an unusual sixteen month 2024 calendar with pictures of Wales, as a starter gift. Still looking for inspiration for something else. The birthday cards were  for the most part were either sickly sentimental or rude, but I found one that will make her laugh. She was having an early supper when I returned, ready to go out for a Plygain choir practice.

Walking up Cowbridge Road from the card shop, I noticed for the first time that Calvary Baptist Church looked different. Then I realised that the front entrance has acquired a set of stylish simple iron  railings and a gate to enclose its forecourt. It seems to be an interesting outcome to covid times.

Outside Tesco's a hundred yards further up the street on the opposite side are some fancy shaped public benches. For ages, these have been frequented by drinkers who prefer to buy supermarket booze, mainly cans of beer and socialise with their mates in the street as they wouldn't be welcome in nearby pubs with outdoor seating. Generally speaking, it's been a harmless enough feature of local street life. Lock-down emptied the streets, but once it was permissible to be outdoors for a while, in an effort to enforce social distancing, the Council surrounded the seats with Heras fencing. 

Street drinkers moved to Calvary Baptist Church which is private property outside the public realm where police enforced dispersal is required. The forecourt was left rubbish strewn and smelling like a toilet. It can't have been pleasant for church cleaners, who'd have enough problems with sanitizing the interior before and after services. Church members would be reluctant to approach, let alone challenge drinkers' behaviour. 

The Heras fencing stayed around the benches for a while after covid restrictions were lifted, but street drinkers have now returned to their old haunt, though it cannot be the same at the moment, as a block of low rise apartments is being built next door to the supermarket and a site security fence blocks much of the pavement next to the public benches. It's not a place where it's easy to sit and watch passers by over a can of beer for the time being. The facade of Calvary Baptist has been modernised at some time in the past fifty years. At that time I reckon the accessible forecourt was constructed, making for a welcoming facade. The passage of time however, has shown that church railings still have their uses.

Until Clare returned from singing, I spent a couple of hours watching episodes of a new Israeli crimmie on 'Walter Presents' about a complex investigation into corruption in the police force called Manayek. The dialogue is fast paced. Concentration is required to keep up with the subtitles. Quite demanding in fact, but the story is engaging. Then I read for a while before turning in.

Friday guilt trip

A cool overcast start to the day, but as the morning warmed up sunshine slowly dispersed the cloud, a bit more autumnal in feel, but pleasant. After breakfast I did some more work on my Sunday sermon, then helped Clare with preparing vegetables to add into the salmon soup she'd started. She came with a whole salmon from the market, already filleted for cutting into portions to freeze. The head and bones provide the substance for soup making. And very good it was too. 

After lunch, I walked over to Aldi to buy some wine, walnuts, chorizo and smoked mackerel. In front of me in the checkout queue I was surprised to meet Paul Gregory, a long standing member of St Michael's in Cathays. We first met in the year I returned to Cardiff, as he was one of the Parish churchwardens in the Rectorial Benefice of Cardiff I was appointed to. Great to see him again, looking well, and as old as me.

I returned home to deposit my shopping then went out again for a circuit of Thompson's Park, to complete my exercise quota for the day. After supper, I found an watchable Icelandic crime drama series on Channel Four Walter Presents called 'Sisterhood', about three teenage girls in a random encounter with a fourth girl they don't know, who is in the course of running away from her dysfunctional mother. The runaway dies, and the girls conspire to dump her body, cover up what happens and live with the guilt. Twenty five years on, the runaway's remains are found, a cold case disappearance becomes as suspicious death and the trio have to deal with what emerges. A morality play on the theme: 'Be sure your sins will find you out', played out in suburban domestic detail. Only two and a half of six episodes so far, in a Scandi drama that's more a guilt trip than a crimmie.

And so to bed.

Story telling partnership

After breakfast a morning of housework, preparing and emailing out next Sunday's scripture readings for the Sunday Eucharist. Clare cooked herself fish and veg for lunch, while I had the second portion of what I cooked for lunch yesterday. I drove her to another session with the homeopath in Thornhill afterwards. While I waited, I walked around the neighbourhood park six times in a hour. 

As today is a Bank Holiday there was little traffic on the road shortening the journey ten minutes each way, a third of the usual journey time. It shows what a difference vehicle congestion makes in a city served by a legacy road system. Work on improving the road alongside Llandaff Fields isn't completed. Temporary pedestrian crossing lights are still in use, a stretch of pavement needs completion and markings for the planned bus lane have yet to be painted on the road. Another fortnight is needed I reckon.

More messaging this evening to do with arrangements for the parish Sway newsletter and its distribution, but plenty of time to watch another episode of Lolita Lobosco, now the server demand for this has either subsided or been improved. This is indeed, high class Italian movie story telling. The author behind the ten episodes listed on IMDB is Gabriella Genesi. She's married to Luca Zingaretti who played Inspector Montalbano and took over running the Montalbano TV series movie production company after the original producer died half way through. 

So, it's no wonder the entire presentation of the stories feels familiar, although that's not to say they are formulaic, only that there's a distinctive sympathetic narrative style to them. The portrayal of persisting traditional old town quarter life in a Puglian port is delightful, and certainly not as squalid as it might have been when we passed through Bari en route for Athens by ferryboat back in 1967. 

Christmas already in view

A warmer and sunny day today despite cloud on times. I woke up late, so it was eight thirty by the time I posted today's Morning Prayer YouTube link on What'sApp. After breakfast, the piano tuner arrived and I stayed upstairs out of the way until he finished. Then I worked on next week's Morning Prayer video and uploaded it before cooking lunch. I languished in the chair rather than snoozing afterwards and eventually walked over to the Aldi store on Western Avenue to buy a bottle of brandy for feeding the Christmas cake which Clare is about to make.

The tarmacking of Penhill Road from the Half Way pub to the end of Llanfair Road was completed last night. The last hundred yards up to the traffic lights remains to be done tonight after dark. Finishing work on the pavements will take a couple of weeks more I think. Then we'll know if reshaping and narrowing of the carriageway will make a real difference to traffic congestion, or been a waste of a few million quid.

Rufus messaged me this evening to say that he's been shortlisted for the Missions to Seafarers chaplain to work in South Wales coastal ports. I'm thrilled for him, as the Mission is one of the few Anglican agencies that have kept faith with their traditional calling and continued to work innovatively. It's 197 years since the world first Seamen's Mission station was established in Avonmouth Bristol. It's spread world wide from there since. As the mainstream church continues to founder, this is one of the enterprises which has continued to work effectively at industrial mission globally, while conservative and liberals wing continue at loggerheads and veer into schism. A good place for Rufus to be, if they'll have him, as he's become disillusioned by the way his diocese has been managed since he was ordained ten years ago.

After supper, I watched a couple of episodes of a Finnish drama on More Four called 'Seizure'. It's rather slow moving and switches sometimes obscurely between the investigation into a group abduction and deaths of four asylum seekers, and PTSD flashbacks experienced by the two lead investigators. If this is a psychological thriller, no amount of eerie dramatic music can make up for the yawn factor. Whether it's from impatience or end of day fatigue.

Advocating family meals

A mild cloudy day with no rain. I woke up at eight, posted the link on WhatsApp for Morning Prayer and then got up for breakfast. Chief Rabbi Ephraim Murvis spoke on Thought for the Day about the month of Av, fifth month of the year in the Jewish calendar. It's a month of sad memories when the destruction of the First and Second Temples is commemorated, also the expulsion of Jews from England in 1290 and from Spain in 1492. 

He went on to describe how the Babylonian exile led to the Temple being replaced by synagogues as community gathering places for worship and festive banquets, with the family meal table replacing the Temple altar as the place to offer the sacrifice of praise and feasting. Out of the catastrophe of exile a new way of celebrating Jewish identity emerged. He lamented the reduction of time spent eating together, and advocated making the effort to sustain the family with table talk, discussion, argument and even disagreement as essential for learning to live together in love despite differences. A very neat three minutes worth of thought provoking discourse.

I had a quiet morning, praying and thinking, then went for a walk before cooking lunch. Again I fell asleep for an hour after lunch. It seems that I need the extra hour if my night's sleep is disturbed as it often is. At least it means my afternoon walk in the park is a bit more energetic. I picked up a new empty plastic bag from the long grass beside the road on Western Avenue. In the course of the next hour I filled it with rubbish collected in my circuit of Pontcanna Fields and binned it. If my objective is to walk ten kilometres a day, my aim is to leave the park a little cleaner and tidier than I found it.

After supper I whiled away the evening watching episodes of Swedish crime drama 'Top Dog' on Walter Presents. It's about rivalries underhanded affairs in a big law firm with high value clients, and lawyers consorting with criminals. It makes a change from police procedural storylines.

From fact to fiction

After breakfast I walked to St Catherine's to celebrate the Eucharist with six others. After coffee and a chat I collected this week's veggie bag from Chapter then returned home and cooked lunch. I sat down to check the news and fell asleep for an hour, much my surprise, as I wasn't feeling tired. Sleep is a gift, and there's no need to turn it down unless you have to, I suppose. 

I walked in the park for an hour and a half and then spent the rest of the afternoon and the evening after supper watching the remaining episodes of 'The Marnow Murders'. It was even more complex than I had thought, as the revenge story-line hinged around cross-border drug trials between East and West Germany, and cover-up of evidence of fatalities due to illegal experimental treatments in the years running up to the fall of the Berlin Wall. 

For anyone watching who was born since then and wasn't German or  a student of modern German history, this plot would be difficult to follow. Having visited East Germany just a few weeks before the fall of the  Wall and acquainted with the context, it was just about possible to follow the plot, although I wasn't sure if it was plausible. Whether or not such cross border medical collaboration with drugs developed in the West being tested in the East ever happened, I didn't know, so when it was finished I googled the subject and immediately came up with an answer. The German newspaper 'der Spiegel' published an investigation in 2016 into the use of medical patients in East Germany as guinea pids for testing West German produced experimental drugs. So this piece of crime fiction has a basis in historical reality. A surprise discovery.

I was pleased to find how much of the dialogue I could understand. I've not had much opportunity to use the German I learned in school in the thirty years since I needed to brush it up for the Halesowen - Leipzig parish twinning link. The fact that the dialogue reflected the accent of north eastern coastal region was helpful, as it's clear and feels familiar, making it easier to follow. Anyway, it was a good watch as crime mysteries go. And that's enough binge watching or listening for me, for now.