Woollen support

Despite spending a long time in bed I didn't sleep well so it took me a long time to get going this morning. After the usual Monday housework, I cooked an early lunch using tasty Greek gigantes beans, as we had a two o'clock hairdo appointment with Chris. While Clare was having her hair done I went for a walk, first up the hill to inspect a post box crowned with an interesting looking example of 'guerilla knitting' spotted on the inbound journey. This delightful adornment features a mini rugby pitch with a Welsh Dragon lining up to convert a try. A fringe of letters underneath says 'Come on Wales' - supporter inspired art! Sadly it made no difference to the Welsh team's run of thirteen successive international match defeats.

From there I walked a long circuit down to the lake in Parc Trederlech, before returning to the salon. As I washed my hair yesterday and my scalp is in good condition, Chris needed to do very little to tidy me up, and we were on our way home by half past three in surprisingly heavy early traffic. After a cup of coffee and a piece of cake, I walked for an hour in the park as the sun was setting.

Worked on preparing next Wednesday's Morning Prayer and Reflection before and after supper. Then read my new Spanish novel, intending to go to bed early. Then I noticed an email notification from Samsung about a firmware update for my Fitbit, apparently to remedy a tendency to overheat. I followed the instructions which said it would take at least twenty minutes to complete. It took from eight until eleven to download and a few minutes to complete the installation process so I could switch off. So I end up going to bed at my usual time.

Woolly surprise

When I finally woke up at nine, I uploaded my second WhatsApp link of the week to the Daily Office video I'd done instead of Fr Rhys. Before lunch I went for a walk around the park. The Urdd rugby tournament still hasn't finished. I saw several senior girls matches being played. Interesting to hear how the noise generated by players and spectators alike is so much more high pitched than when it's boys playing.

I drove myself to the so called 'New Section' of Cathay's cemetery to say some prayers at the interment of ashes in the family grave of a man whose funeral I did back in March. It rained hail and sleet for a while while I was travelling. I arrived early and met the mourners, then the cemetery manager found us waiting and took us to the far corner where the grave was located. 

Cathay's cemetery was opened a hundred and sixty three years ago. The 'New Section' isn't new at all. Back in the 1970s, when the A48 Eastern Avenue urban freeway was constructed, it divided the original cemetery into two parts. Because of its proximity to the nearby Heath Hospital, many service personnel treated there in both world wars who died were buried therein. Six hundred and eighty five of them in all, British and Commenwealth personnel.

I thought I hadn't been to this part of the vast East side city burial ground, the third largest in the UK, but when we reached the grave I realised I'd been here for a funeral back in my early days at St John's City Parish Church. Not far from the opened grave, I recognised a small marble memorial marking the mass grave of victims of the 1941 blitz bombing of a residential street in Butetown and seafarers hostel. Several people buried there were unidentifiable, others were children. A mass killing like that of people in Kramatorsk train station this morning. 

Despite a good nine hours sleep last night, I dozed off for an hour in the chair when I returned from the cemetery. Then I went out again for another walk. On my way back I saw that the Post Office box on the corner of Conway Road had been decorated with a delightful colourful knitted cap covered with figures.

A fine example of 'guerilla knitting' - not something we see a lot of around here!

This evening I started watching a new French crimmie on More Four, called 'A l'interieur'. Strangely, it lacked a first episode, so it was a question of guessing where it was set and what happened to start with. Twice, when it reached the advertisement break, the streaming player crashed and the system had to be re-started, and there were long silent gaps between advertisements, as if the entire thing had not been properly edited together to fit the prescribed timing. It passed the time while I was waiting for part two of 'The Crimson Rivers'. It was even more implausible, badly written and badly acted than last week. Quite the worst French flic movie I have ever seen.

Decorative surprise

As I arrived at St Andrews to celebrate the mid-week Eucharist on this overcast grey morning, I was very surprised to see the eight spherical concrete bollards flanking the nearby pedestrian crossing were no longer grey, but brightly coloured, bedecked with knitted or crocheted covers. 

There were some special knitted decorations on one of the municipal iron street benches, also a knitted bicycle next to a real one chained to a handrail nearby, 

What a feat! I tweeted a couple of the photos, and soon started getting Spanish re-tweets, a first for me. In the background of the photo above is the entrance to the local Finnish language school. Nobody knows for sure but the speculation in church was that the street knitware originated with staff and students there. Given the Scandinavian enthusiasm for knitting arts, it's not an reasonable conjecture.

I was delighted to read today in Archbishop Barry's monthly Ad Clerum, that several colleagues have been honoured by being made Cathedral Canons, including Fr Mark, our Team Rector in Canton. This comes just at the same time as his colleague Fr Martin announces his departure for pastures new. I hope he won't be left on his own for too long. It's such a big and busy parish to run.