Chromebook unexpected demise

Another cool and cloudy day and a return to Monday morning household chores after breakfast. At last I got around to dealing with three months worth of unopened mail, sorting out the junk mail from routine newsletters bank statements, and occasional cards and letters. Much to recycle, some yet to file away. Car insurance renewal cost is fifty quid extra. We talk of getting rid of it, but life could be problematic without one, even though we don't use it much.

Then after lunch we did need to use it to get to back to back appointments with Kay our osteomyologist. I booked an appointment with her when I was still in Spain. Clare sent her a message early this morning and fortunately Kay was able to fit her in as well. Kay's house in Newport is at the top of the hill in St Julian's and it would take half a day to get there by public transport instead of a couple of hours. As ever, I found the treatment beneficial, except that I was tired when we got back, and ended up not going to Caerphilly to Emma's licensing as Ministry Area Leader. Whether by car, or by train or bus from the city centre, the trip would have required more energy than I had left, and pushing myself hard isn't a good idea after treatment. There was a message on the answering machine when I got back from John at Pidgeon's asking if I'd be free to take a funeral in three weeks time.

I went to use my Chromebook to check some data and found it was almost drained of power. I plugged it in and it displayed signs of a faulty power connection. I swapped the charger to a different socket, and then tried another charger of the same kind, but the same result, with the power indicator flashing and the screen brightness fluctuating in the way it does with a power supply fault. Both chargers worked perfectly with my other laptop. 

The only conclusion I could come to was that the input socket or the power regulator on the device motherboard is now broken. Once the battery drains, the Chromebook is dead. With only fifteen minutes charge left, I had to find out how to return the device to factory settings to remove all my accounts and data from it. I did it, but with very little time left to spare. I can take it to Davey at Tourotech and ask him to give it to his mate who recycles electronic waste. It came out of the factory in Taiwan in November 2018 and I bought it in June 2019, just under four years ago. It was a nice machine to use and of quality build - superficially. Owain is still using an seven year old Chromebook I bequeathed to him when I bought the Asus. Now I have to check out what's available of an equivalent specification.

After supper I watched the final couple of episodes of 'Those who kill', then completed work on the Morning Prayer video for Thursday and uploaded it to YouTube. 

Egyptology comes alive.

Another rainy start to the day. Monday housework after breakfast. While trying to decide what to do with the rest of the day, Clare had a call from Kay Saunders, saying she had an appointment cancelled and was able to fit her in, early afternoon. I cooked pasta for lunch, then we drove to Newport. While Clare had her treatment, I went for a walk in Beechwood Park nearby. 

Unfortunately I slipped on a grassy slope which looked more stable than it was and pulled a muscle in my upper right leg. It hurt but the injury wasn't so bad that I couldn't walk. I ended on my back and jarred my hip joint. My rain jacket and trousers were covered in mud generated by my slide.  I limped to the cafe nearby, cleaned up, had a coffee and rang Kay while I recovered my composure. 

When I got back to Kay's place, she examined me and set my pelvis right. Fortunately my knee and ankle joint escaped injury, only my right quad muscle was over stretched and painful. I was truly grateful to be able to have this injury examined straightaway and reassured that I hadn't done anything really serious. It reminded me of leaving Mallorca to take the ferry to Ibiza in March 2020, when I did a similar slope slide on a greasy pavement and injured my left thigh, which still bears the marks, though I don't remember that it hurt much at the time. Hopefully I'll recover from this with the passage of time, but it was a shock right out of the blue, and could have been really life-changing. Such random occurrences can happen even when you're totally prepared and being very careful. Real life intrudes on the most careful plans laid.

We drove home, then I went to the shops, as there were a few things I hoped to buy on our way home, to see if I could walk without too much pain or loss of movement. The important thing however was a dose of arnica, pills and ointment rubbed into the thigh. I coped, but rested as much as I could afterwards. 

After supper I watched a programme on BBC Four called 'Eternal Egypt' one in a series telling the story of Egyptian civilisation in a way that interpreted the Egyptian dynasties' own historical record written on its walls and monuments in hieroglyphs. It was presented by Egyptologist Joanne Fletcher, visiting professor of Archaology at York University. It was wonderful to see her narration accompanied by annotated images of hieroglyphs highlighted when referred to in her narration. Not only that but her visits to sites rarely seen by the average tourist, plus stunning photography. In her hands the four thousand year history of ancient Egypt came alive as if she was reporting on current political and social events in today's world. I now need to watch episode one on iPlayer. Then I watched another packed puzzling episode of 'The Blacklist' and turned in early.

Deadly selfishness

After breakfast, I completed next Sunday's sermon, then walked for an hour before cooking lunch. It was good to  hear on the news that 75% of the UK population are now doubly vaccinated. The government is proposing booster jabs for the most vulnerable, to be delivered in tandem with 'flu jabs this autumn. 

This has come in for serious criticism from vaccinologists who state that it's a strategic error to think this will make a great difference, without evidence of the value. Surplus vaccines should be sent to places where the need is greatest in the world. Huge numbers of lives will be lost with even bigger consequences for poorer nations, and there's serious risk that vaccine poverty could help nurture another mutant strain even more deadly and contagious than are already known. It's not in the UK's best long term interests to refrain from being generous, in such circumstances. Self centred political ambition is capable of reaping deadly rewards in this case

Another deadly plague virus related to ebola has now been reported in West Africa. Early warning is leading to early action in a region which has learned from dire experience the importance of an urgent response. Yet again it's a development connected with environmental degradation and the effect of climate change unbalancing natural processes that mitigate the spread of most viral mutants.

Clare had an osteo-myology appointment with Kay in Newport mid-afternoon. I drove her there and went for a walk with my DSLR in nearby Beechwood Park while I waited for her. I remember doing this once before, but couldn't remember when. I hunted for the photo file in my archive containing pictures taken last time, but couldn't find it. Even worse, I had no idea of how long ago it was. I searched this blog and was amazed to discover my last visit was in the autumn ten years ago. My memory of taking photos there was quite clear. With a rough idea of the date, I searched through old hard drive archives, and found a folder labelled 'Newport', containing ten photos taken back then. Now I have all the photos in one file.

After supper, I watched an episode of a Sky Arts photographer of the year competition, interestingly set with six contenders in a multi-cultural inner city district of Rome. The photography task was to tell a story about the place through portraits of inhabitants. I can't imagine myself doing something like that, as I feel shy about engaging with people just in order to take pictures of them. I'm not sure I'd have the right words to say. It's a social skill I've never developed. I'm wary of intruding on people's privacy, and am well aware of that when I take family photos, I'm hesitant behind the lens, which makes them annoyed with me.

Then, I remembered that I had my Morning Prayer video reflection for Thursday to complete, and spent an hour on it, before printing off the material I need for tomorrow's funeral.

Unintended consequences

I drove to Newport at lunchtime today for an appointment with Kay, our family osteomyologist, my first treatment since last summer. Kay has treated all of us at different times over the years. She checked her notes, and we were both surprised to find it's been over the past fifteen years that she's been helping our tense muscles and mis-aligned bones to return to the way they're intended to work. Recently, with the slow closure of my wound, many of the physical stresses on the rest of me seem to have diminished, though it's not stopped me worrying about my neck vertebrae being out of alignment, so this session turned out to be as reassuring as it was therapeutic.

On my way back across Newport, a 'low fuel' indicator light nagged me. I found a supermarket filling station, but to my horror, found I couldn't get the protective flap covering the fuel pipe to open. Something must be jammed I thought, but there was no way I could prise the flap open, and panic set in. I thought the best thing I could do would be to drive on until I could find a garage and get help, risking running out of fuel in the meanwhile. I made it across the conurbation and on to the rural stretch of the A48, a rather safer place to break down if I was going to. 

I passed several filling stations, but these days they have one-stop shops attached to them rather than mechanics' workshops. I made it to Newport Road, a mile away from NG motors garage where the car gets serviced. Indeed, they found it for us. I rang Phil, who told me to look for an emergency cord pull in the boot that would release the flap. I did but none was fitted on such an early version of this model of VW Polo. The last mile'd driving in heavy traffic was un-nerving, but I made it OK. A cheery young mechanic came out and diagnosed the problem in just a few minutes.

It was a case of 'unintended consequences'. Somewhere in its previous history an unresolved fault with the electric windows. After we bought it, the only practical solution to emerge after several attempts to resolve the issue in the absence of spare parts for an eighteen year old car, was to exchange the central locking and window mechanism from the driver's to the passengers side. The available substitute mechanism on the driver's side was one from a passenger side door. It works fine, except that central locking has to be done from the passenger side. This is seldom an issue as Clare and I almost always travel together, and with the development of her glaucoma, I am now the sole driver. 

On this occasion, I drove to Newport alone. The central locking system locks me in while driving. I don't like it, but Clare says it gives a female driver an enhanced sense of security from unwelcome advances from assailants. When I get out of the car all three remaining doors stayed locked. What I didn't know was that embedded in the central locking system is a magnetic device which locks the petrol cap. Normally on a car, the driver would get out to fill up with petrol and the cover flap would automatically unlock, but not on our car, unless Clare is with me and gets out to go and pay, or stretch her legs. We've always been together when visiting a filling station before, and it must be six months since I last bought petrol. From the garage I had a three mile drive on nearly empty to fill up at Pengam Green Tesco's, and made it OK.

Well, now I know what I needed to know, but that was an upsetting nerve wracking experience which took me some time to get over, so I walked later than usual in the day. Coincidentally my two phones and fit-bit all drained of power within the same few hours. As a result my so-called fitness record for yesterday says that I walk less than half of what I actually walked, and only slept for a couple of hours, both of which are untrue. No doubt the analytical algorithm will generate a reproach for being unhealthy, which will annoy me. So many smart info devices that aren't really a match for real experience. Such foolishness to rely on them for anything. 

 

A creaky Advent start

I had yesterday to myself, wrote my Sunday sermon, cooked lunch and prepared vegetables to cook later when Clare returned from Worcester, then went for a long walk. Clare then texted me to say a train strike left her stranded in Worcester so she had to return to Gail's for a second night's stay. The veggies remained ready in the pan uncooked. I prepared another portion more for myself to add to them, ready to cook for Sunday lunch.

With nothing better to I watched telly all evening. I watched the latest 'New Amsterdam' episode on catch-up, also the first two episodes of 'The Sinner' series two. Then I watched the latest episodes three and four of the same live. It's another slow moving psychological thriller figuring the reason behind a double murder committed by a thirteen year old. A New Age back-to-the-land cult with a bent for psychoanalysis features as part of the context of the story. In series one it was a Millennial Survivalist cult that featured. Curious.

Up early today to be out of the door by half past eight for two Solemn Masses, one at St Saviour's and another at St German's, as Fr Phelim is away this weekend. The parish now has two St Padarn's ordinands on placement, Geraint, now in his second year of placement in the parish is joined by Natasha, also a second year student, but she had a job related placement last year in Reading, having been employed as a CofE children's officer for the four years before then. 

It's the first time either church has had a female ordinand, and I think she's been well received. I believe she and Geraint were involved in preparing children for first Communion. Three of them received the sacrament at St German's. Tomorrow, Phelim is leading another Parish Pilgrimage to Rome and Natasha is taking part.

It was lovely to be back in that parish again, as people welcome me as a familiar friend. It was also good to be able to concelebrate again with my old friend Fr Graham Francis, who has grown weaker since we we last together at the altar, as a result of an advanced stomach cancer, but he still battles on, making sure everything is in order and done to order, using up his day's quotient of energy to do what he loves most in life, being a priest at God's altar.

When I got back from church I had a text message from Clare to say that she was on a train that was going to arrive in Cardiff at one fifteen. I started cooking the veggies, and by the time she arrived lunch was ready to serve.

The morning left me feeling pretty drained, not just because of early rising, but because I had to cope with my old neck and back problem, caused by a misaligned pelvis, itself due to the long term impact of the open wound. I must get an osteomyologist appointment to straighten me out soon! It started to develop after my third op, probably because when unconscious surgeons fix your body in a position which makes it easy for them to work on without regard for later consequences. Whole body medicine isn't practiced in this reductionist era regrettably. I have been fighting a losing battle keeping this under control how I have learned to through a succession of osteomyology treatments over the years, but there are limits to what anyone can do on their own.

I went to the St Catherine's Advent Carol service this afternoon, before going for a walk in the dark. The choir was double its normal size and made a good effort, albeit a little under-rehearsed in parts.

I watched a fascinating account of the life and work of the French painter Paul Gaugin on BBC Four before turning in for the night

  .

 

Afflicted, coping

Since Sunday my lower back has been giving me grief. The trouble which developed after tripping and falling in the dark at Montreux a couple of months ago is recurring, despite being sorted out by osteomyologist Kay when I returned to Cardiff. Maybe I didn't have enough recovery time at home. Although the discomfort hasn't stopped me walking 5-6 kilometres daily this week. 

Exercise is essential as the affliction makes sitting for any length of time painful. I just have to keep moving, which is tiring in its own right. Getting comfortable at night also isn't easy, so the last few days have been spent avoiding doing anything that makes things worse. Just as well I have had no duty assignments. I am having to learn to be patient with myself, and manage this with what I learned from Kay.

On Halloween afternoon I walked to Garrucha and found the 19th century Capilla de Nuestra Señora del Carmen in that part of the town centre which houses the ayuntamiento buildings. In the absence of any midweek Anglican celebration, I'd intended to go to Mass there on Todos Santos and the Dia de los Muertos, but was not capable of doing this when the time came. I had to settle for praying in solitude on one of the church's great feast days.

Yesterday, All Saints' day the charco was graced with a visit from around fifty egrets, which settled for a few hours during the day, upstream of the bridge. But, they didn't stay. I heard from another bird watcher not long after my arrival that a flock of egrets had been sighted up-river, but apparently this was not a regular occurrence. This is just a fraction of the numbers of egrets that roosted regularly here this time last year. It must be something to do with their food supply hereabouts.

I learned from Clare about the death of our former neighbour Mike Creighton Griffiths in Queen Anne Square. The news has taken this long to reach us, largely because I have been away so  much. I used to meet his daughter Cindy at Tai Chi classes, but the last time I saw her was six months ago, perhaps just before he died. When I was Rector of Central Cardiff, he and his wife Valé would ask us in for drinks before supper and we'd enjoy hours arguing, setting the world to rights. His working life was spent as a public relations organiser, and although a nominal Anglican, he was appointed to manage the Papal visit of John-Paul II to Cardiff back in 1982. A larger than life character who took great pleasure in offering hospitality. May he rest in peace.

Getting ready to travel again

There's been a lot to do this past couple of days, as well as pack my bags ready for my next tour of locum duty in Mojácar. I started yesterday with a hypertension review at the GP surgery, then with a haircut from Stavros my favourite joke telling hairdresser. After lunch, I visited our Osteomyologist Kay, for a back treatment. It was necessary, despite a fair reduction in discomfort these past few days. It's the unseen impact a fall can inflict on bone structure you have to consider, without the necessary corrective measures it can leave you vulnerable, and less flexible than is desirable. I then walked into town to do some banking, and made a visit to the CBS RadioNet office for a catch up session with Ashley and Julie, as CBS set about recruiting a new business crime reduction manager. Needless to say, I was late home for supper.

Today I had another visit to the School of Optometry to collect my new driving glasses, delivered in record time, since my appointment last Friday. It's a pleasure to go there as the team are so pleasant to deal with and superbly organised. Dealing with eyesight issues is a delicate and sensitive affair requiring a great deal of close contact with clients, and much reassurance. This certainly is a centre of excellence Cardiff can be proud of.

It's surprising how many small things escape attention when packing to go away for any length of time. I locked and strapped up my case three times during the evening, as I kept on thinking of things I needed to take with me. This time around I have to take a Windows laptop with me, as there isn't a machine available in the Chaplain's residence. I never go anywhere without my Chromebook, but I'm reluctant to rely on its wireless only network printing routine, it case I have problems with it. Apart from annoying issues with legacy printer drivers, devices running Windows 10 generally hook up to a printer easily and quickly. I took a Windows laptop last year, and will take it again this time around. For the sake of keeping my cabin bag weight down, however, I decided not to take my DSLR camera kit, which is a pity.

I bought a small light Acer Windows 10 device last year, to take with me on occasions like this, but had to give it to Kath to take with her to the USA, as Rhiannon's laptop was not fit for purpose when she brought it to me at the weekend. It's running fine now after a Windows re-install, so Clare can return it for Rhiannon to use when she goes up to Kenilworth to Kath's for the start of their Arizona trip next week. Altogether my case and hand baggage weigh twenty kilos, well within the allowance, and as much as I want to manage, while my back gently recovers for yesterday's vital therapy.

A day for protest and for prayer

After a slow morning start, I went to join a group of local people outside the Pontcanna Street local post office to demonstrate in protest at the impending closure of the Sub-Post Office, when the present license holder retires and the property is bought by the Co-operative. There were about twenty of us there and several people made placards and held them up for the Media Wales camera toting reporter who turned up to take pictures and interview local Councillor and spokesperson Iona Gordon, who'd organised the protest and is pressing for the Co-op to reconsider its plans. Planning permission has been granted for the premises to be extended, but retention of the sub-Post Office doesn't seem to have been mentioned by the developers, or considered by the Planning Committee, if I'm not mistaken. It is still possible for this to be amended before the place closes for refurbishment, so long as enough fuss is made by locals who rely upon this vital amenity.

It was only a brief affair, so the Clare and I returned for lunch. In the afternoon I walked to the Natural Health Clinic in Cathedral Road for an osteopathy appointment with Kay. Since my last longish walk last week, my knee has been giving me more trouble, so I was looking forward to this session. Kay did a thorough diagnostic on the knee joint and declared that the knee ligaments and meniscus cartilage were all in good condition, but given the persistence of mild pain in the knee joint and fibia, I should ask my GP for a referral to have the knee x-rayed, in case a cist was hiding in the back of the knee. She worked on the afflicted components. To my relief, walking home was less uncomfortable than walking there.

In response to an email round robin from Bishop David on Saturday evening, I decided to join a prayer vigil in the Cathedral, being held on the eve of the meeting of the Bench of Bishops, now charged with the task of consulting the church and making a decision about who should be the next Bishop of Llandaff, and in a situation where the electoral college seems to have only fallen short of a required two thirds majority by ten percent. I'm not going to add to the speculation or debate surrounding this issue. It's a difficult situation and I'm among the many who have written to the Bishops about this, though not to endorse any candidate as I have no right to do that as a retired priest, but simply commenting on the nature of the decision and reflecting on it from a perspective of change in the 20th century church. All in 300 words! 

All I feel I can do is pray that God's will is done through whatever the outcome and consequences of the decision reached, and that all will accept and welcome the person appointed with open hearts and minds, despite personal feelings about them, or the issues surrounding the decision making. There are many issues in the spotlight here, over the question how the church chooses its leaders, what sort of people they are and what we expect of them. 

Depending on the different expectations of church members of different 'integrities' there can be different ideas of the ideal person, both in the wider community of the faithful, and its episcopal leadership. If we had free and open debate about candidates before the Electoral College met it might be helpful, or might not. Whether decision making is in the open or in secret, coming to a consensus calls for reconciliation of differences. Sometimes this comes easily, other times, only after a painful struggle, and we've seen a good few of those in the church during my lifetime in ministry. Praying for reconciliation is the least I can do and try to do often but tonight, with the Cathedral open for silent prayer from eight to midnight. 

Martin dropped by and picked me up to save me walking, and give us a chance to chat beforehand. I was minded to stay an hour, but he couldn't stay as long as I could, so I walked home afterwards, and found walking was still much easier than expected. Sitting in silence in the darkened nave before a fifteenth century crucifix in a spotlight behind a stand of votive lights was all that was needed, but there were brief prayers offered aloud on the half hour appropriately chosen and beautifully read. I was there for an hour and a quarter. It was a memorable time, and I came away feeling refreshed, and connected to the church the diocese in a more intimate and immediate way than I sometimes feel at grand liturgies. Each is as centred on Christ as it can be, but in silence and darkness, there's nothing to get in the way.

Oh yes, just for the record, on my walks today I collected ten pieces of rubbish.
  

  

Getting straight

During breakfast yesterday morning, a prolonged hailstorm made us sit up and take notice. In the afternoon I had a funeral service to take at Pidgeon's chapel of rest, which was packed with mourners. Someone arrived, as my driver put it, "Wearing Her Majesty's jewellery" accompanied by two guards. Other mourners were evidently pleased to see him there.  Being of the 'tough on crime' opinion, my driver didn't approve of this brief expensive outing. I said I couldn't imagine anything more likely to cause a costly disruption inside than a prisoner upset by bereavement and absence from the farewell to a loved one. Even treating someone humanely can have a pragmatic side to it. We arrived at the crematorium in yet another hailstorm. And sun shone through the clouds on the way home.

Before supper, I drove out to through the evening traffic to Caerau for a bereavement visit in relation to another funeral I've been asked to do this week. The parish clergy are busy at the moment due to a sharp increase in deaths, perhaps due to the vagaries of the season's weather. I'm glad to help out and ease the pressure. Visiting people in their homes, listening to them talk about their life with the departed person, being trusted to help them with an appropriate service, is always a privilege.

Today, I drove to Newport for a session with Kay, to sort out the problems caused by a poor driving seat in the car. Despite re-enforcing it with strategically placed cushions, I can't drive for more than an hour before neck muscles threaten to go into spasm, and the symptoms will then persist for days, because the constraints of the saggy seat shape twisting my pelvis out of alignment. A new seat might cost as much as the car is worth. It works beautifully for a twenty year old vehicle. Sooner or later we must get a replacement, but ideally I'd like it to stop working first. At the moment it stops me from working as intended. It's good to have a therapist who can remedy the problem and help me understand better how to prevent ill effects prolonging themselves.

Kay, I discovered was also a Blackberry user. She'd greatly enjoyed her Z10, as I had done, but hers had recently died. She'd been given a replacement, whose first action was to update the operating system taking several hours. When it came to re-start it on completion of the update, it too died, and she was awaiting the delivery of a third, as she was tied by contract to that model. Such a nice phone, so sad it was fatally flawed. BT wouldn't issue me with a new Z10 but replaced it with a Q10, as they'd stopped issuing the Z10 altogether. A disastrous blow for RIM's new flagship model. If they'd been able to get the build quality right, it would have been a real market changer for them.

After lunch I took Clare to the opthalmology clinic at the Heath Hospital for a post-op check up. Her consultant declared himself pleased with the progress she's made in the three months since surgery. Mission accomplished, I went into the office to meet Ashley and confer on the new pricing strategy, which we've been working on for the past few days, as we have a meeting with others to discuss this tomorrow.

    

A bad back and a new Bishop for Europe

This morning, just as I was cleaning the dining room before driving Clare to Newport for an osteopath appointment, I was hit by an excruciating pain in my lower back as I was bending to clean the feet of a chair I'd picked up, then I coughed involuntarily and felt the shock of a spasm running up the inside of my spine. No trapped nerve as happened by in February, but revelation of a weakness, an incomplete healing. So it was Clare that ended up driving me to Newport. Fortunately our osteomyologist Kay Saunders was able to treat us both. 

Can it really be five years since I last went to her for treatment. I know from previous experience that her treatment, will speed recovery, though I expect several more days of pain and stiffness, due to what is effectively a re-opening of old wounds. Getting about now with the pain reawakens the memory of coping on my own in a strange apartment far from home earlier in the year. I had to learn extra patience and not to panic in the face of the challenge of staying mobile, and not being a liability to my hosts. What do I need to learn now? One thing seems certain. I must warm up properly before tackling housework in future, to make sure my back is as flexible as it needs to be. Perhaps spending a day reading a book, mostly on a far from ergonomic sofa, was also a contributory factor. That sofa has to go!

The new office chair in my study is now the most supportive and comfortable seat in the house, so it got well used in the afternoon and evening. The 'Thinking Anglicans' website told me that Canon Robert Innes, Senior Chaplain of Holy Trinity Brussels the pro-Cathedral for Northern Europe, has been appointed as Bishop of the Diocese in Europe. Diocesan Press Officer Fr Paul Needle interviewed him, as he was getting off the Eurostar shuttle at Waterloo, and posted it on You Tube. A positive way to declare his intention to exercise episcopal ministry from Brussels, commuting to the diocesan office as and when necessary. 

To appoint a working Chaplain as Bishop, whose operational base will be within the Diocese he serves is most welcome. It represents a positive response to appeals made about these matters in consultations during each of the three previous episcopal selection processes. He's the first non-Anglo-Catholic to be appointed as Diocesan Bishop. Holy Trinity Brussels can be regarded as broadly Anglican evangelical, and Archbishop Justin's choice acknowledges that the Diocese in Europe's prodigious growth in the last thirty years owes much to broad evangelical Anglican missionary enterprise.

I spent the rest of the evening, watching episode two of 'Hinterland', which we missed yesterday, but could view via the 'Demand 5' website. Like the first episode, the storyline flowed around unfinished business from previous generations, and its fatal consequences for people today. The acting is excellent and the landscape photography beautifully atmospheric. Good to see Aberysytwth town showcased as a setting for some of the action. Definitely a must watch.