Christmas disappointment

Although I was up in time this morning, I was later than usual posting the link to this week's video as I got distracted, by an early call. We were told to expect the arrival of the boiler repair man between eleven and one. This meant I couldn't attend Mass at St John's, but I went down there anyway to take our food bank offerings, only to find that there was no collection this week. Ruth took it instead to add to offerings for Ty Bronna, the local Church Army supported youth homelessness centre, which also relies on donations. There's no end to the need of people who've fallen on hard times in and around our city.

The boiler repair man arrived at noon and the job only took him half an hour. It was a matter of replacing a valve, source of the leak. I had lunch ready for Clare when she returned from kindergarten, with a huge bunch of yellow roses,co a thankyou gift from the children, on her last day of working with them.

We had an email from Jasmine's dad John to say that of necessity, their Christmas holiday trip to had been cancelled, given the on-going covid crisis here. Disappointed, yes - but surprised no. Slowly we're seen the return of restrictions aiming to curb the spread, but really it was too late from the day the first case was noticed. It's likely it spread surreptitiously over weeks beforehand. Only yesterday did I put copies of this year's newsletter in with sixty odd Christmas cards announcing her coming. This afternoon I posted them all anyway, but amended the digital version to send with another sixty email greetings, after devising a Christmas greeting to accompany it. 

After supper we went to choir practice at St Catherine's and worked our way through all the special music for the service of Lessons and Carols a week tonight. It was hard work.

When we returned, I watched the last one of the thirty two episodes of 'Crossing Lines'. It gives no indication of being a closing episode, nor does it give tantalising indications of story lines incomplete, as do some of the movie sagas that have graced our screens this past decade. Well it was above average while it lasted. worth watching to gain insight into the dystopian side of our contemporary world.

Quiet at midweek Mass

When I was printing labels yesterday evening I discovered the table on which the printer stands, situated directly underneath our gas boiler was soaking wet, and not for the first time. Previously I thought I had splashed coffee from a mug set down on my desk next to the printer. On closer inspection I found there was a leaking tap on the underside of the boiler, installed six months ago. Clare sent a message to Matt our heating engineer, who reported this to the manufacturer - it has a seven year warranty attached to it. 

By lunchtime we were notified of a visit by the manufacturer's engineer, to rectify the problem hopefully tomorrow. The response is unexpectedly speedy, simply because Matt reported it on our behalf, otherwise it could have taken much longer. I succeeded in securing a drip tray beneath the leak, and in twenty four hours, it collected about 200ml of brownish water. How long it's leaked I don't know, but I hope it's only just started to get noticeably worse, or else we'd have a big damp patch in the corner of the kitchen below.

There were just four of us for the service at St German's this morning, as the school decided to cancel its annual Christmas celebration because of omicron covid spreading. It seemed strange to be back in the Lady Chapel for a relaxed quiet low Mass. My playlist of digital carol recordings compiled for next Sunday's Lesson and Carols, worked well on the church Bluetooth speaker. One less thing to bother about. After coffee and a chat, I drove home, then walked down to Eton Place, off Saint John's Crescent, where the new veggie bag drop box is discreetly housed in someone's front garden, and collected this week's order. It's further than the previous location in Conway Road, but that's not much bother.

Clare cooked lunch for us while I was out, then I started work on preparing next week's Morning Prayer video material in advance as it's going to be busy in the run-up to Christmas. It was sunset by the time I went for a walk in the park, but at least it was mild and not raining. Being out while cyclists are returning home from work isn't all that pleasant however, as the majority use blinding LED lamps to enable them to see ahead and ride faster. Unless they use no lights at all and risk not seeing pedestrians. It's almost better to wait until later when traffic has died down and there are only dog walkers and teenagers hanging out in the park, mid evening.

After supper I assembled the prepared batch of fifty plus Christmas cards, ready to post tomorrow, then watched a few more episodes of 'Crossing Lines', with nothing better to watch on live telly. The series continues to hold my interest because stories of organised crime groups with a pan-European reference, although fictional, represent current concerns. The third series aired in 2015, and nothing new since then. Did they run out of ideas? Or was the third series poorly received outside Europe as it was lacking in transatlantic interest? Despite entertainment newsfeeds on the web talking of a fourth season, it seems entirely speculative. There's no reliable source confirming that work has begun on this. I suspect that a cheap attempt is being made to start a media rumour to evoke a response from fans that will persuade the production team and investors they can make money out of a new project. Bizarre really.

A is for Archbishop as well as A.I.

Last night my first 'covid passport' expired and as we have a matinee concert performance to attend at the RWCMD this afternoon, renewal was my priority after breakfast. I failed to get a result from the NHS digital app on my phone which referred me to NHS Wales digital equivalent without providing a weblink that would land me exactly on the page I needed. Or if it was there, it was somewhat obscured from plain view by too much irrelevant advisory text. I had to google the correct page on my PC to reach where I needed to be, and then it was straightforward to download and put on both my phones. Perhaps I'm just old and stupid, but perhaps some stupid old digital feud between governmental IT silos of the four nations is the reason.

In this week's diocesan newsletter was a short greeting video from newly elected Archbishop of Wales, Andy John, Bishop of Bangor. It's not a contentious appointment, but he's a safe pair of hands coming into office as the Province presses ahead reforming the structure of its entire parochial system, with one Benefice the size of a conventional area Deanery in many cases replacing individual Parishes many of which were probably carved from the larger area Deanery centuries ago. Why a 'Ministry Area' structure needed to be overlaid on the existing historic entity is hard to see. Admittedly demographic and social changes have occurred that make some ancient Deaneries boundaries irrelevant. They could have been tinkered with, but I suspect that would be more expensive legally than overlaying a new Ministry Area structure on a grouping of churches and then dissolving the ancient structure in one fell swoop.

Really, it's the way the plan has been implemented which is a problem for some. Some churches which have fought hard to survive, want to stay as they are and feel they will lose their identity, alleging their members have not had enough say in this decision. Others are now too impoverished and weak to care. Llandaff diocese has been a slow starter in this process. Pressure to complete has come at the most inopportune time during the pandemic, but more seriously because it can no longer afford to pay an adequate number of parochial clergy. 

A heart-breakingly difficult dilemma, as harsh as that faced by British churches at the reformation, when monasteries were dissolved, and monks who served as parish clergy were deprived of a living if they couldn't adapt to new vernacular liturgy or loyalty to the state. Some clerics are farced with redundancy and early retirement, or offered part time posts with free accommodation. Others are non-stipendiary clergy already or young enough to make a new career in secular employ, whether they want to, or not. It's been coming and avoided for as long as I have been in ministry. I retrained as a teacher forty years ago with that in mind, but somehow it never happened in my full time work life, and here I am in my seventies often working the equivalent of a half time minister's hours as a volunteer, and happy to do so.

While Clare had her online piano lesson, I listened to last Wednesdays Reith lecture about the use of A.I. in warfare, and what a challenge it is to agree global banning status for autonomous 'killer robots' that is equal to the ban on chemical and biological weapons, as different interested parties have different ideas of what autonomy consists of. Superpower governments are the most reluctant to agree to a universal ban for fear others will develop them in order to get the upper hand in the global strategic situation. 

The thought of killer drones that can use A.I. to select individuals based on facial recognition and target them for assassination with greater precision than a remotely operated unmanned aerial vehicle, is really disturbing. Tiny drones are already in development that can carry out covert surveillance, even indoors, and swarms of tiny light bearing drones performing aerial ballet were used in this year's Olympic games opening and closing ceremonies demonstrating the huge advances in remote control which have been made in the past few years.

After her lesson, Clare went to school for a couple of hours and I cooked lunch ready for her return. We had tickets for the matinee performance of the students' Christmas concert at the Royal Welsh College at three and walked over there through Bute Park. To my surprise, it turned out to be a full Christmas Carol concert accompanied by the College Big Band with fresh arrangements of a wide range of well known carols done in full strength music theatre mode, with jazzy swinging gospel numbers and fast moving choreographed ensemble singing by groups of singers and soloists. 

Everything was sympathetically re-interpreted and delivered with astounding energy. I was feeling rather jaded when I arrived but invigorated and awake when we left. I wanted to jump up, clap and shout hallelujah, but I'm not sure if that would have been deemed appropriate in an audience of staff members, elderly patrons like us, and just a selection of students (it was being live streamed for other students and family members around the world). Whether they were believers or not, they put conviction, heart and soul into performing in a way that seems lacking in church services.

I'd like to think that performing songs of faith so excellently might work its own miracle on those taking part. It's long been known that taking part in a passion play can lead a sceptic or someone going through a barren patch to a spiritual awakening. From my own experience I can say that the more I've preached and taught, the more confident in faith I've become without ever losing my natural scepticism and desire to test and question all religious assertions. I believe and hope this can also be true for others.

The sun was setting in a clear blue sky as we walked into town for some shopping before going home. With all the Christmas illuminations and streets full of brightly decorated market stalls, it was quite an enchanting scene. After supper, I settled down and watched a couple of episodes of the third series of 'Crossing Lines', ad free on the computer. There are major changes of cast in the new series, due to some characters being killed off, or disappearing from sight for reasons inexplicable so far. Only three characters from the first two series re-appear, and are joined by three more. Intriguing stuff.

Healing progress

I had another good night of sleep in which I only had to get up and go to the toilet once in seven hours. It's such a difference, very much a measure of the continuing healing of the wound in my perineum. I am so grateful for this. This week's Morning Prayer and Reflection link was posted to the Parish WhatsApp at eight, minutes after I woke up, later than usual.

I went to St John's and celebrated the Eucharist with seven others this morning, then returned and cooked lunch in time for Clare's return from her eurythmy session in school. Straight after eating I had to leave on foot to get to Pidgeon's Chapel for a funeral service, after which I was taken to Western Cemetery for the burial. It just started to rain when we arrived there, but with a big funeral director's brolly in hand I didn't get too wet at the graveside.

When I got back I drafted my Sunday sermon before eating an early supper to enable us both to get to choir practice at St Catherine's in time. I really must remember to take a torch next week as I had extra difficulty reading the music, despite the church lights being full on. I just seem to need a lot more light to read printed pages by these days. Then, back home and a couple more 'Crossing Lines' episodes before bed. It's really rather addictive, with a variety of photogenic European locations setting the scene for different and sometimes original stories, even if the use of advanced hi-tech devices and travel time compression risk the plausibility of the tale.

Deejaying a funeral?

I drove to Thornhill to take a funeral at the end of this morning. Chapel attendant Clive was keen to show me the new music gizmo installed on the officiant's reading desk, part of a new digital sound system that generates a playlist for everything requested for each funeral of the day. It's a dedicated small tablet which the minister can control, but also the attendant, if requested. There's an identical system at Wenvoe crem, but it's a year since I last saw and used it. It's very clear and straightforward, to be fair, but as I wasn't comfortable about having to use it without a dry run, Clive operated it remotely. I wasn't happy with the playlist order, but thankfully items in it are easy to move around. 

A favourite song of a deceased - Matt Munro singing 'Softly as I leave you' was to be played. I'd suggested the best place for this was after the eulogy, not realising it had been put on the back of the printed order of service, un-noticed by me, as exit music. In the event, Clive was quick witted and copied the track to the end of the playlist, while the service was in progress. Surprisingly, repeating it worked well so it seemed intentional. Next time, I'll have a practice at operating the device on my own, and hope it doesn't stress me and divide my attention from meaningful prayer. With pastoral contact so often minimal these days - clergy shortages and covid anxiety limiting the possibility of visiting even if it is now possible - expectations have changed, so the quality of every service taken must ensure that it's memorable for those attending.

Clare cooked lunch while I was out and left a welcome plateful of pasta to come home to. We walked to the shops together later and then I caught a bus into town to meet Fr Chris Reaney for a coffee and chat in 'Coffee Heaven' on St Mary Street, next door to McDonalds, much nicer to sit in, with arm chiars or tables, and the coffee is served in a proper cup. Rufus and I met here a few weeks ago. This afternoon I discovered that the charming lady who runs the shop is a member of the congregation at St Paul's Pontyclun, and her husband runs an identical shop there in the village. She closes early as soon as it gets dark, and custom tails off. Chris had missed his four o'clock train, and as we were about the leave the lady suggested we wait there until she was ready to leave, after tidying up. Both of them were heading West on the same train, it turned out.

I walked with Chris to Cardiff Central station before continuing to walk home. After supper I had a little work to do around Thursday's funeral, and then settled down to watch another couple of episodes of 'Crossing Lines' on my laptop before turning in for the night. I'm working my way through series two. It is available to stream but hasn't yet been broadcasted. For some strange reason the episodes run without adverts. I don't know why, but it cuts running time by 25%. Too good to last, although apparently it's possible to stream programs ad-free by paying a subscription, a temptation I haven't succumbed to yet. Ad breaks are useful for making a drink, going to the toilet, and even doing Duo Lingo lessons with the TV sound off. Seeing the same sequence of ads a dozen times a night is brain numbingly boring.

Time out dilemmas

No service to take this morning, so I went to St Catherine's and sang in the choir. The music was familiar thankfully, as I hadn't attended last Thursday's choir practice, which I must this week and next, as I plan to sing in the Nine Lessons and Carols service the Thursday before Christmas. When we returned I finished next week's Morning Prayer video and uploaded it to YouTube. The next few days are busy so it's good to have one less task outstanding.

After lunch, a brisk walk in the park before going to St German's for the second Advent Evening Prayer services, just as the sun was setting. There were only four of us. Mike and Ann had intended to come but he arrived at church this morning and couldn't get out of the car because his arthritic hip had seized up, so he had to return home and get something done about it. I hope he's going to be OK.

Thought I'd prefer not to, I went for another walk in the dark after returning from the service. making an effort to sustain my daily 10k exercise quota. I'm obsessive about it I know. Sometimes I walk thirty percent more, other times I just make the target recently I've been struggling somewhat it make it, but not because I'm tired or lacking in energy. I'm feel fitter and healthier well than I have since I retired but I'm getting bored with the routine and feel it's robbing me of time to do other things. 

I've endured several dark winters of long nights without losing motivation and spending two hours a day outdoors. It seems to me I'd benefit if I could make an earlier start to the day, re-schedule work time later, as now I tend to work mornings and afternoons. In times past, under pressure I'd work morning, afternoon and evening if needs be. Now I can't work so intensely for so long without paying for it with exhaustion, needing a couple of days to recover. It's more important to take time out each day. Getting outdoors and walking early isn't quite so easy however, as I'm slow getting started when I wake up. There must be a way of making the change of habit, but I must figure out how.

Meanwhile, time-out is usually evenings. Tonight I binge watched three episodes of 'Crossing Lines. It's ridiculous. Even so, despite portraying a multi-lingual environment almost entirely mono-lingually, the series is maturing, as an equivalent to NCIS - a crime fighting team with wise leaders and a classy HQ, hi-tec equipment with ninja fighting and firearms skills, instead of US Navy crimes and social issues as its mise en scene, it has Interpol and the whole EU as its theatre of operation. It's on it's third series now. How much further does it have to run? Is it for the global market NCIS has succeeded in, or just the European? Time will tell. What's interesting is how relevant some of the crime themes are, people trafficking, Russian mafia, cyber bullying, police corruption. Moreover, some of the dialogue is quite entertaining, which makes a change.