Coronation day remembered - just

It was very pleasant to walk in the sunshine down to St John's Canton this morning to celebrate the Eucharist with nine regular attenders this morning. It was only after the service it occurred to me that today is the 63rd anniversary of the Queen's coronation. I was annoyed with myself for not remembering to mention this in the prayers during the service. I was eight at the time, listening on the radio, and some of our lessons at school explained what it was all about. We didn't have a telly to watch it on, but went to Ystrad Mynach cinema a few weeks later to watch a film of the ceremony. The music and imagery still evoke a defining moment of my childhood, that captured hearts and minds with the romantic notion that we were now new Elizabethans.

After lunch I was driven to Thornhill for a burial service in the Wenallt Chapel, the larger of the two, and the only one available for that time slot. It can hold four times the number that actually attended. By the time I'd processed in with the family the congregation had settled in the back five rows. As charmingly as I could, I appealed to them to bridge the gap and take seats just behind the family. To my surprise, every one moved forward without a hint of awkwardness. Talk about 'ask and it shall be given'.

The service included a warm tribute to the deceased woman from a nephew, including some of his childhood recollections. He spoke of the deceased as being a strong woman, holding her own in an extended family where men unusually outnumbered the women. A song was played as a slideshow of selected digital photos of the couple's sixty plus year life together was displayed on the screens that are now a feature of chapel furnishings. It was a fitting prelude to the prayers and act of commendation concluding the service. We had to drive to the grave as it was some distance away from the chapel in a new cemetery section. I think a few mourners got lost on the way there. 

The sun shone, and there was no wind, making it fairly easy to get the frail nonogenarian widower to the graveside for the committal in an unhurried way, supported with strength and gentleness by their two sons, one on each arm. Unselfconsciously, perhaps unaware he was speaking aloud, the old man made quiet appreciative, affectionate comments during the service and at the interment. It was most moving, and I felt privileged to be there and share this with the family.

On the return journey, my chauffeur dropped me off in the city centre, so I could visit the office and complete a couple of necessary tasks, as Julie is on leave this week. I was home for supper just in time for The Archers, an an evening of telly, viewed on my Nexus tablet, using one of a variety of different Android apps to cover the different channels that interest me. Increasingly I find this a more convenient thing to do, as it lets me move around the house and do other things meanwhile. 

Listening to the programme is generally more essential and convenient for following the story than constantly watching a screen in a corner. Like an enhanced form of radio. One time this doesn't work is when subtitle reading is essential to grasp the dialogue. The other time is when the noise of the kettle boiling drowns out the sound, even when wearing earphones!

    

Movie weekend

Neither Clare nor I felt like doing much yesterday. Only later when clouds parted and gave us a few hours of afternoon sun did I venture out to take some photos of autumnal trees on Llandaff Fields. Mild weather has produced a lovely array of colours, and now that leaves are actually starting to fall, the contrast of gold and brown on the still bright green grass is just lovely to behold.

This morning after a good night's sleep, thanks to the extra hour, with the clocks going back, I returned to St John's Danescourt and Christchurch Radyr for their main Eucharists, with a baptism during and another one after the latter service. It's several years since I last baptized anyone, and an event I enjoy. But when I look into some closed hard faces when I greet visitors before or after the service it's clear they've accepted the invite more out of good-will to the child's parents than any appreciation for the value of the ceremony. The same can be true of the guests at weddings and funerals too. It's difficult to retain an open and welcoming attitude to them when the devil inside me wants to pipe up and say: "Why on earth have you come here with a look like that on your face?" Truth to tell, church is for many occasional visitors an embarrassing place to be, for a host of different reasons, and it's an unending challenge to deal with this.

Before the second baptism, I needed a rest with a drink and chocolate biscuit to sustain me, as I was starting to flag - feeling my age? Or did I fail to eat as much breakfast as I really needed, to keep me sharp? I was fine by the time I'd finished and on my way home, and didn't spend all the rest of the afternoon dozing. I went out again with my camera to Thompson's Park to enjoy the even earlier sunset. Photos are here.

It was something of a weekend for crime drama, with another double episode of the Arne Dahl series last night, with something of a post Cold War legacy crime theme with an ending worthy of spy thriller. Tonight, as Clare wanted to watch 'Downton Abbey' and I didn't, I made use of the FilmOnTV website on my Asus Transformer to view the last of four episodes of BBC's One's 'From Darkness', which I found altogether disappointingly slow. Cut out all the agonising slow facial closups and the whole story could have been better compressed into two hour episodes. 

The digital TV box I had in the Nerja chaplain's house ran the same FilmOnTV streaming service. It's only recently I realise that it could provide an alternative means of viewing when there are scheduling clashes of interest here at home. After this, I chanced upon a late showing of 'False Trail', a detective movie set in rural Northern Sweden, starring Rolf Lassgard, the first actor to portray Wallender, as another detective. The plot centred around the ability of an insane, corrupt policeman to fabricate a web of lies around a murder he'd committed. I didn't mind it being slow to unravel as there were subtitles to grapple with. The scenes of autumnal and winter forests aroused in me a strong desire to visit that part of the world, up near the Arctic Circle one of these days.