Anniversary music making

The feast of the Transfiguration today, our 56th wedding anniversary. We have so much to be thankful for. I sent Clare an audio and a video WhatsApp message first thing. She responded with her first self recorded affort at playing Cole Porter's song 'Easy to love'. Just to see if I could, I played it back and sang an amended version of the lyrics into my voice recorder, and to my amazement it worked quite well, considering the studio conditions. We were both delighted with the result, thanks to WhatsApp and Audacity. Another ten days and we'll be together again!

It's also the 77th anniversary of the atomic bombing of Hiroshima, and despite the 'never again' sentiments expressed at the time there are now nine states in the world which have nuclear weapons, and tensions in international relationships in several directions are dangerously high. Nuclear weapons could get used by accident despite all the precautions we presume all nuclear states take to avoid this. All this, while global heating threatens to make the planet uninhabitable by the end of this century, due to the inability of people in power to make the necessary compromises and sacrifices to curb carbon emissions this involves. 

In the three and a half weeks I've been here, the occupants next door to the right haven't changed. They may be permanent residents. On the left side there have been at least five different sets of occupants staying for a few days at a time. This morning early I heard noises next door and for the first time, saw a young woman cleaning the terrace. It could be the house is let out on AirBnB, or maybe run by a hotel nearby for short term lets. As happens with the Oxwich Bay Hotel. I confess that I'm missing our short family sojourn there this year. We must go there for a few days this autumn. I prefer its wildness to the Costa del Sol's urban luxury. Mojácar with its nature reserve resembles Oxwich in some respects.

It started to cool down mid afternoon, so I walked down to Carrefour to buy some fruit and veg for to top up my supplies for the weekend. When I got back, and was working on a report at my desk, I had a call about a funeral service for a lady who died and was speedily cremated two weeks ago, a long term ex-pat resident living in sheltered accommodation. Originally the relatives were considering a date in September, but decided they couldn't wait that long, so the proposal now is to have a service on 21st August after the Sunday morning Eucharist at San Pedro. This is a day when I don't have to drive down to Sotogrande. So, part of the evening was taken up with putting together a service text and sending it to the next of kin for approval.

Then I went out for a sunset walk, and on the way back had a video call from Owain, who was visiting Clare. They'd been out to supper at 'La Cuina'. A nice touch on our wedding anniversary. Then, time to turn in early, for an early start tomorrow.

Anniversaries - personal and global

Our fifty fourth wedding anniversary today, on the feast of the Transfiguration, and the seventy fifth anniversary of the atomic bombing of Hiroshima four months after I was born. On the news I heard that there was no international gathering to observe this anniversary this year because of the pandemic, just a handful of dignitaries and remaining hibakusha - survivors of the bomb - all masked and socially distanced. A generation which learned about about lethal contamination the hard way in the ruins of their city. Were their contemporaries in denial about the dangers they faced, like so many people today who refuse to take seriously the need to wear masks, wash hands and keep socially distanced? Somehow I doubt it.

I went to St John's for the Eucharist of the day. There were ten of us present, five of us clergy. With its movable chairs it's easy to arrange the church for social distancing by removing surplus ones, and it still looks OK. On the walk home to cook lunch, I met Eileen on her way to church to prepare for the first funeral since the pandemic started. I wonder how it'll work, how many mourners will be allowed inside?

Nicky or niece asked if it would be possible to annotate a few of the oldest photos in the slideshow I did for my sister Pauline's funeral with identifying names. Today I got around to doing this. It meant adding text to photos and replacing the originals in the slidewshop project file, then re-rendering into MP4 file. Adding the text was a bit fiddly as I had to learn how to do it in the latest version of MS Paint. Just as with other modern apps, it's simple enough once you know how the process works, but the minimalist user interface lacks guidance

Mid afternoon we drove to Bristol for another double chiro appointment. Ruth took my blood pressure. I was relived to learn that although high it was less than when I last took it. I didn't get my GP telephone appointment yesterday and wondered if that would happen today instead, without having to chase up the surgery. I still need to discuss medication dosage rather than just guess. I am at the surgery for a blood test tomorrow, so I can ask about it then.

After supper, I watched the third of Huey Morgan's programmes on Latin American music on BBC iPlayer. This one was about Puerto Rican music, on the island and in Huey's native downtown New York. Like the other two in the series it was most enjoyable, well worth watching, all three are celebrations of cultural diversity and musical creativity. And I could follow the Spanish being spoken!

 

Transfiguration anniversaries

I had been looking forward to walking to church services in the Parish this morning, but in the end I thought better of it and took the car, as I wanted to be sure that I could travel between St John's and St Catherine's without hindrance and in good time. There were congregations of about thirty people in both places to celebrate the Transfiguration of Christ and think about the dropping of the first atom bomb on Hiroshima, something I always insist on doing on this day. I found it less easy than expected to revert to using the Church in Wales Rite, as used in our Parish, after eight weeks of using the CofE Book of Common Worship. Maybe I was tired from yesterday's video binge, but also the cold virus is still having lingering after effects.

Today is our 51st wedding anniversary, and we talked about going out for a celebratory meal, but by lunch time, eating at home and having a siesta seemed preferable, especially as I had another a bereavement visit to make for a funeral at St Catherine's the week after next. As the family live in the Parish, I was able to walk there, and got some additional exercise by wrongly identifying the street location. Having forgotten my phone I was unable to check, though I was able to ask a passing child, who found the street for me on his Smartphone, with a little help from his mum.

I spent a second evening of binge watching episodes of 'Sé quién eres', so now I'm up to date, ready for the final double bill next Saturday night, endlessly speculating on possible concluding scenarios. The drama poses the interesting matter to consider, memory issues notwithstanding - do I really know who I am? And to what extent do others really know who I am, when I am perceived from so many different angles and perspectives? Quite apart from not being able to remember anything about who he has been, the main character finds he doesn't like the person he finds he had become. So, in the depths of himself he is passing judgement on what he learns. It's as if his normal memory of self and his past actions has enclosed him in a shell, and this is shattered by the accident, leaving him, to quote Paul 'as one untimely born' through his clinical amnesia. It's a fascinating exploration of the elusive mystery of personhood.

Family Sunday

I was awake again at dawn this morning, but the girls remained fast asleep in their tent. I thought I was due to celebrate the eight o'clock at St John's Canton, so Clare got up to come with me, to have the rest of the morning free with the family. We took with us our top table flower arrangement from yesterday, still fresh enough to place at the foot of the altar. In my sermon for the day I mentioned the fact that we chose the Transfiguration Feast as a day to get married, as an act of defiant hope made at the height of the Cold War, since it's also the anniversary of the atomic bombing of Hiroshima. It loomed over us then as does global warming and terrorism today.

Fr Phelim was there at St John's, just opening up as we arrived. I'd read my duty schedule wrongly, but that didn't matter, as it gave us an opportunity to be together and worship, which doesn't happen very often. Then I did my assigned duties, celebrating the Eucharist at St John's, nine fifteen and St Luke's at the ten thirty. Then, another lunch out in the garden, followed by a family photograph, as we'd forgotten to take one yesterday.

Then we went for walk in Llandaff Fields at attempted to take another family photograph - only this time, not with my DSLR, as I'd forgotten to re-insert the SD card after transferring the first few photos, so Kath perched her iPhone on my camera tripod and took a photo of us all sitting on the grass.

Rachel and Jasmine were returning to Kenilworth with Kath, Anto and Rhiannon for the last two nights before flying to Arizona early in the morning from Birmingham International. Packing and taking leave of us seemed very hard to do, and we lingered for ages, making music around the piano. The bonds of family affection are so hard to relinquish, after such a rich, intense weekend of meeting a remembering. Parting is such sweet sorrow, but life must continue on its different paths, thankful for all we've shared, grateful to God for so many blessings, entrusting ourselves to who knows what next?
    

Wedding anniversary remembrance

I had two Eucharists to cover for holidaying parish clergy yesterday morning. I celebrated the Transfiguration a day early, for small congregations at St Luke's and Catherines. It's a feast that has meant so much to me for several different reasons, the most important being that Clare and I married on the 6th August. This morning we went together to St John's for the Eucharist, and sat together in the congregation as Fr Jesse Smith was scheduled to celebrate. A rare treat.

Then Clare and Rachel went off for a swim. I pottered around, then went into the office for a while. We didn't do anything else to mark the day, except savour the delight of last Saturday's family celebration, to add to the multitude of memories of forty-nine years together. It's time to start planning a Golden Wedding fiesta for this time next year. I've decided I'm going to make a photo sequence of all the years to display on the day. Thankfully, I made a start on digitising old family albums a decade ago. There's still more to do, to obtain a fuller picture. Many of the best moments, of course, could never be captured, no matter how vivid they remain in memory. 

Today is the 70th anniversary of the atomic bombing of Hiroshima, suitably recalled in the news and at ground zero. With Cold War confrontation hanging over our youthful years, and blighting them with subliminal anxiety, it seemed right that we should marry on this day, because it is also one the feast days of Christ, and the transforming power of his grace. A small gesture, stating that we we were chosing life in the shadow of extermination. 

The numbers of nuclear warheads is now a tenth of what it once was, but more nations possess nuclear armaments, so the risk of catastrophe is as high as ever, compounded by possible use of fissile material for a 'dirty bomb' by terrorists. So many people are still choosing ways that lead to death rather than life. Have we got any further than living with the Bomb, rather than creating conditions in which it serves no further purpose and can be disposed of, as we now frequently do with outdated technologies.