Training on Zoom

After breakfast this morning, it took me a while to work out exactly the best place to install myself for the Diocese in Europe Zoom training session on Safeguarding, to ensure were I could get a stable signal, and be visible to other participants. There were seventeen of us including the three trainers, from Chaplaincies in Turkey, Norway, Hungary, Germany, Holland, Italy, France and Switzerland. Chaplains, Lay Readers, musicians and other officers, Wardens, an ordinand and a Catholic priest preparing for Anglican ministry, a fine cross section of people engaged in the diocese. It all worked without a hitch, and was a worthwhile session. The homework is to watch two hours worth of video about sex offender Bishop Peter Ball, and all the safeguarding concerns surrounding that notorious case.

After my last disaster involving this training when I got the time wrong, I was nervous about it happening again, or something else technical sabotaging the occasion. The added complication was Clare having a Skype session with her Jazz piano teacher, whose time overlapped with mine - what if two internet video calls simultaneously created problems for us both? Well, it didn't, but Clare had a separate problem with her call, as she kept on losing the audio, although her video was unaffected. In the end she had to give up and troubleshoot. It turned out that her method of attaching her tablet to stand so she could chat hands free while playing was blocking the tiny aperture containing the microphone. Problem solved. She completed her lesson later in the afternoon.

Ashley and I met for a drink at the Saffron Cafe at tea time, then I returned home and remembered that I'd not collected my prescription medication, so I had to go out again to the surgery to pick up the script, and take it to the pharmacy across the road from the surgery, which fortunately was still open. Now I'm fully equipped for my stay in Spain. I did the same before going to Ibiza, though I only took two months worth of medication with me and due to my extended stay, had to secure a prescription in situ and pay for medication. To succeed in this I had to contact the surgery and ask them to find out what the name of the equivalent drug would be in Spain. Bless them, it took a couple of days but I got a useful reply that satisfied the need. Looking back, I'm amazed to think that I navigated my way through all that.

Clare went to the last Amser Jazz session of the term at RWCMD, while I waited for her to return for supper, I watched another episode of 'Coroner' on More Four, and then more after supper. The plot gets more complex and confusing in a seemingly never ending story of professional lives overlaid with  family dysfunction - the price that's paid for being excellent at the job - it's a theme which often seems to crop up in police and medical procedural sagas. A reflection of our era maybe?

It's Owain's fortyfourth birthday today and he's out in Switzerland staying with his friend Ludo in Nyon. He posted a lovely picture of Lac Leman on Instagram this evening. As I expected, the weather has been kind, and he's been 'wild' swimming today in one of the most civilised places to do so. Quite a number of the lakeside Communes with beaches have proper changing rooms with showers, picnic areas and barbequeue areas. It's been like that for the past half century at least. I love that lake.

Llanerchaeron House

A cooler cloudy day today. After breakfast we drove inland to Llanerchaeron House a Regency country house designed by London architect John Nash in 1795, set in verdant parkland above the river Aeron, within a mile of where we reached in yesterday's walk. There's an ornamental lake, extensive farm buildings, a collection of antique agricultural machinery, and a 200m long walled garden, containing another kind of  collection - apple tree varietals from far and wide. The last owner to live here bequeathed the property and its furnishings to the National Trust having moved in after the first world war, so it's typical of an inter-war country gentleman's home. Down the land from the property is an 18th century parish church, bi-lingually advertising Sunday services.

We booked an arrival time-slot, permitting free entrance to the grounds. The small cafe restaurant, in a period piece corrugated iron green painted building next to the ticket office was serving food and drinks to visitors in a socially distanced outdoor picnic area. One way routes through house and garden were well signed, and visitors could move freely outdoors, only needing to queue for up to half an hour get into the house. It was lovely to see mostly voluntary staff happily welcoming visitors and sharing the story of the house, many of them were Welsh speakers.

Three hours of walking around the domain and having lunch al fresco left us both feeling tired, so we returned for a siesta, and then went for another walk around the far side of the port after tea. The tide was a long way out which gave an opportunity to walk down into the harbour bed and take a few photos of boats beached.

The fishmonger's stall on the quay was open today, and Clare bought some scallops and hake for supper, so fresh, so delicious - a delightful treat. Then I watched a couple of episodes of Canadian crimmie series 'Coroner' on More Four. I'm not convinced the complex story-lines add up when several key characters have mental health issues that would be bound to compromise their effectiveness in real life. 

Internal refugee story

I posted the YouTube Morning Prayer video link just after Thought for the Day this morning, after long but disrupted night's sleep. I didn't feel ready to drive myself to 'the Res' for my funeral planning meeting so I walked to Cowbridge Road to get a number 18 bus. I had a much longer wait than expected, and only just arrived in time. The bereaved children told an extraordinary story of how their mother had been born in Lewisham just before war broke out, and that her mother had walked from there with her as a babe in arms to a farm near Pembroke where her early childhood years were spent before moving to Cardiff. 

I'm not sure how much more detail they had of her beginnings. When I checked later, I found Lewisham had been one of the first South East London boroughs to be hit by the blitz, a later by V1 and V2 rockets. In the first month of attack the response to those made homeless by bombing was chaotic, evacuation was still at an early stage, so those who could, fled the capital one way or another, and if you couldn't afford a train ticket you walked and begged lifts. And that's only part of the remarkable story I'll be telling in her funeral eulogy.

By the time I arrived home Clare had already arrived from school and lunch was on the table. Her story session in kindergarten Mark accompanying on violin was a delight and a success with the little ones. He truly fits the pied piper role. After a restorative siesta, a walk around Llandaff and Pontcanna Fields. I took several good bird photos with my new Olympus telephoto lens, missel thrush, pied wagtail and a wren out of the trees for once, singing from its perch atop the fence around the tennis courts.

In the evening I watched an episode of a Canadian series on More Four called 'Coroner' set in Toronto. It's already been running five weeks. It's a courtroom drama with domestic, forensic and police elements. This episode was about the white police killing of an innocent black man, slowly revealed to be a cover-up job, a perennial a issue in Canada, as in the USA. I have another five episodes to catch up on, next time there's a rainy day and nothing better to do