Life in a building site - the unexpected

A grey overcast, windy and damp start to the day, but the weather deteriorated as it went on. The Palace has announced that King Charles has cancer and is receiving treatment for it. This was discovered while in hospital for a prostate operation, but the cancer is unrelated, and so far undisclosed. It's admirable that he's being so open about these health issues, making this a matter of public interest so that he can encourage others to get themselves diagnosed if they have any health worries. Sadly, no amount of exhortation can make up for the shortage of medical and nursing staff, and the woeful lack of co-ordination in some areas when it comes to ensuring treatment processes are as efficient as they need to be.

The roofers arrived early-ish, only to discover that one of the Velux windows was smashed in its box, and the other had a part missing. They got on with small tasks while they waited for replacements. I got on with making several new pages for Sway, and checking content with the informants. Clare's study group arrived for a session, while I worked in the front room. Then I cooked lunch.

We had a hairdressing appointment with Chris, so Clare went on her own and I minded the house. The big back Velux window was carried up the stairs and installed without a hassle, but there wasn't enough time before dark to install the smaller front one. The roofers left at three thirty, and shortly after, I went out for a walk, first down the lane so that I could take a photograph of the back Velux installation from a distance. A big drop of rain fell on my camera, and the heavens started to open, so I returned home for rain trousers and brolly. 

I was out for an hour and a half in a deserted park and got soaked. It rained non-stop for over six hours, and the wind blew to make things worse. Clare arrived from Chris's Salon, also soaked. When she went up to the main bedroom, she found water dripping fast from the ceiling on to the duvet, just like a burst pipe, except there are no water pipes in that part of upstairs. The attack room above was perfectly dry. Very odd. We did our best to remove mattress and duvet and installed several buckets. Clare sent an SOS call to the roofers, and within an hour the guy who had been installing the Velux window earlier arrived to inspect. 

He figured out that water running off the roof was entering through a small gap at the edge of the place where the second Velux window would have been installed had it arrived on time. That gap, and the tile surfaces surrounding the opening would have been sealed off and waterproof, if the window had fitted. Water came in, ran along a beam across the ceiling and the came through at the lowest point in the centre. A coincidence of mishaps, with the foulest weather imaginable. 

The guy had to go up on the roof in the dark and driving rain, spot the cause of the crisis, secure the area from the weather, then crawl into the rood space to check there were no other weak spots. All was well. Safe for the night. He told us that after leaving this afternoon he had driven to Bridgend for a job and was driving back Caerphilly where he lives when he got the SOS call from his boss. What a life!

With cracks appearing across the bedroom ceiling, it seemed prudent for Clare not to sleep there tonight, so a spare mattress on the lounge floor provided the alternative. She didn't fancy my bed. She finds it too uncomfortable.

After supper I started a load of bread dough and baked two loves of bread which were out of the oven just before bed time. In the meanwhile, I watched another couple of episodes of 'Bones', and tried no to think how much worse this could have been if Clare hadn't gone upstairs when she arrived home after two hours of wind and rain and discovered the leak.

Security scandal

Another very cold night under a clear sky which stayed clear all day, sun shining and the temperature around one degree until nightfall, when dropped below zero again. Wonderful, as long as you're dressed up for it. June my sister called on WhatsApp as I was getting up at eight thirty. She's getting used to using a mobile phone, as a replacement for her landline, on which reception deteriorated over a few weeks before going dead a few days ago. 

Landlines for all the apartments in Wexford Lodge are all fed from the same input to a distribution box in her front garden, last accessed a couple of weeks ago by OpenReach engineers and accidentally left open. I suspect her particular line was partly dislodged from its terminal connectors and has worked loose since then. Getting anyone to attend to this is proving to be a nightmare. It's a rehearsal for the day when copper based connections are finally switched off, and there's no alternative to a phone connection, made through a wired or a wireless connection to the router, or directly to a 4G signal.

The King was giving the opening speech to the COP28 gathering in Dubai while we were eating our breakfast. He's the only head of state ever to have been asked to address the seventy thousand strong gathering, including many heads of state of the 130 nations attending. It honours his fifty prophetic years of conservation advocacy, warning the world about biodiversity loss, pollution, and more recently climate change, during which he has often been mocked and derided. He has earned respect for his authority, and is never heard saying "I told you so", but always proposing ways forwards. 

Another roofing contractor came by this morning to examine our roof and give us an estimate for a full replacement job in the new year. While we can still afford it out of savings. I returned to the task of understanding how to send a Mailchimp subscription invitation with Owain's help in finding a YouTube video link. From this I figured out how to do what I needed, and found it worked by sending an invitation to a new subscriber. Then I started on my Sunday sermon, though I had to stop to cook lunch, and continued writing after we'd eaten and made a couple of loaves of bread.

After taking the bread out of the oven, I  started my afternoon walk in perfect winter sunshine, again a bit later than planned, and saw another glorious sunset half way through my park circuit, arriving home in the dark, somewhat chilled. While walking the return stretch I listened to the early evening news. I was amused to hear that Rishi Sunak was photographed at COP28 with the King who was wearing tie patterned with the Greek flag, bought on a trip to Athens, one of many in his wardrobe. The media commentariat are taking this as a message of silent rebuke to Rishi Sunak for his childish refusal to meet with the Greek Prime Minister this week after he mentioned the return of the Parthenon sculptures rescued then stolen by Lord Elgin. 

How dare His Majesty express his opinion like this! But hang on, the King had a great grandmother who married the King of Greece, and became a nun in later life. That's a fair enough reason for wearing such a tie, in my opinion. Funny nobody mentions this, as controversy is needlessly stirred up yet again. Haven't the opinionated commentariat got better things to write about?

The seven days of truce in Gaza came to a violent end this morning. A hundred women and children are home free, but others are still unreleased, and no Israeli citizens or soldiers captured. Hamas is being blamed for the breakdown in the midst of proposal for more hostage exchanges and days of pause in the fighting. I wonder if they know where all the women and children are being held, as there are different factions holding some of them, who may be dictating their own terms for letting them go. Some may well be dead and this is not yet common knowledge. Fight on rather than lose face? It's stupid in the face of certain defeat in this cruel inhumane war.

News is arriving of an American journalist's well researched report into the story behind Israel's already admitted failure to realise the strength and imminence of the Hamas attack. Analysis of intelligence reports from observers on the border of the covert military activity taking place the other side of the Gaza border fence had been presented to security chiefs, but not taken seriously, rather considered only as a theoretical possibility. These reports came from observers using CCTV cameras along the fence. It's said this was a unit of trained women reporting upwards. If so it will shake to the core a male dominated military and government, in a society which thinks it's egalitarian. It'll come out in the post war public enquiry, hopefully.

The return tonight of 'Astrid - murder in Paris' on Channel Four's Walter Presents platform. Very original mystery stories that celebrate the potential of neuro-diverse people and what they can offer to society when given the opportunity and right support. We've seen the first two series of sixteen episodes so far, and there are another sixteen to go. Hopes were dashed of anything new however, by the showing of the first double episode instead of the start of the third series. What a disappointment. 

I was however able to finish watching the finale of 'Hors Saison', which maintained interest right up to the last ten minutes, when an ending destined to reveal evidence of a top cop's serious perversion of of the course of justice is suppressed in the light of the false confession made by an apprehended murder who commits suicide, perhaps because everyone feels sorry for her because of the trauma she has gone through. Also disappointing. 

Crowning glory

It was completely overcast and raining when I woke up at half past seven, in good time to hear 'Thought for the Day' with the Archbishop of Canterbury on this most auspicious occasion for the United Kingdom. Rain destined to sweep across the whole of southern Britain and make this a damp if not wet Coronation Day, just as it was on 6th June 1953, when Queen Elizabeth was crowned. 

We didn't have telly. but were able to listen to the service on the radio, with the sonorous voice of ex war correspondent Richard Dimbleby narrating the event from Westminster Abbey. Amazing to think that his broadcaster son David, now 84 years old, is a friend of King Charles. It's such a blessing to be alive to watch the day's events unfold from the comfort of my own home seventy years on. 

We had to wait several weeks to watch a black and white film of the Coronation at Ystrad Mynach cinema back in 1953. I was just eight years old. In school in the weeks beforehand, we were taught about the regalia used in the ceremony. I don't recall learning much about the ceremony or how to understand it when the school went out to see the film, but it did make an impression on me, of great seriousness and sacredness surrounding this state church ritual. Come to think of it, that was my introduction to the special terms used by church sacristans to describe sacred objects. I wasn't introduced to serving at the altar and extending my sacristy vocabulary for another ten years, when I was a student in Bristol. 

Clare cooked waffles for breakfast. Then we switched on the telly and saw the arrival of heads of state and some celebrity guests at Westminster Abbey, though by ten o'clock the majority of the 2000 guests were already in place. The radio commentary had mentioned the arrival of Archbishop Rowan to take his place in the congregation at around half past eight - such a long wait! Around a quarter to eleven the King and Queen left Buckingham Palace for the Abbey accompanied by the Foot Guards of the Royal Household Division and the service started on time at eleven and finished at one. 

It was rich with beautiful liturgical music. Bryn Terfel sang a Kyrie Eleison in Welsh with the choir. Later a Greek Orthodox choir sang a Psalm in Greek. There was a Latin Gloria in Excelsis, an Alleluia sung by an African choir, and a plainsong Veni Creator Spiritus with verses in English, Welsh, Scots Gaelic and Irish. The Coronation ritual was largely unchanged, except for some inclusive texts which made clear the King's intention to be the defender of all faith communities, and the servant of all the nation's people. The anointing rite was shielded from view for privacy behind beautifully decorated cloth screens one of which bore an image of the Tree of Life. A lovely creative touch. 

Archbishop Justin's homily was concise and remarkable as it was clearly addressed to the whole nation and not just that congregation of church people. For him a rare if not unique occasion to speak of the meaning of the King's ministry to the country. Jewish, Muslim, Sikh, Hindu and Buddhist faith leaders took part in presenting him with symbols of office during the Coronation rite, and at the end of the service they greeted him on his way out with their own declaration of loyalty. A significant and worthwhile innovation. The whole occasion was deeply thought through and superbly executed, as was the 5000 strong military parade that followed. The whole event made a statement about what British identity means in the twenty first century. It sets the tone for life together in this new Carolingian era. There are many aspects of life under today's government which make me feel ashamed, but today's celebration makes me proud to be British in equal measure. Just about.

Although there had been rain early on, it slackened to a drizzle then stopped. By the time we had a snack lunch it dry enough to go for a walk in the park while waiting for Owain to come over and spend the night with us. We ate supper together and whiled away the evening chatting and watching telly.

Coronation Eve

A day of clouds and rain, sometimes just a drizzle and others a fierce downpour. After breakfast I worked on my sermon for Coronation Sunday and responded to an email about the Q3 service rota from Mother Frances after entering dates I can do into my diary. I shared lunch cooking with Clare as I had chicken which I curried, and she had a fish to fry. Afterwards I chatted on the phone with my sister for over an hour, then went to Tesco Metro to get re-stock our supply of plant based milks ready for the weekend. Then I went for a walk around the park accompanied by occasional showers, and called in the Coop on my way home to get some things I'd been unable to carry earlier.

After supper there was a programme on BBC1 about the formation of a special 300 strong Coronation Choir to sing at the Coronation concert on Sunday evening. Select singing groups drawn from a variety of community voluntary service groups have been rehearsed separately from all over Britain and brought to Windsor Castle for a single rehearsal prior to the big event. One group taking part is Cardiff's Oasis choir made of refugees from 25 countries. They were filmed being interviewed when rehearsing in St German's during Lent. It's an inspired project with some great amateur singers, and an event that really celebrates unity in diversity through singing together. 

Tonight, even the punishing outcome of English local elections for the Tories is being overshadowed on news media by reports about the build-up to tomorrow's Coronation. Interviews with people camping out on the processional route or with some sort of role contributing to the event.

There was one detail which particularly touched me, a report that arrangements have been made for the Chief Rabbi Ephraim Murvis, to stay close to Westminster Abbey and walk to the service, as it's being held on the Sabbath. An Orthodox Jew wouldn't use transport but can walk up to three quarters of a mile for pleasure on the Sabbath. It's a measure of respect for his religious tradition and high public office that security provisions have been made to enable him to do this. Other guests have to arrive by car or bus with their security escort! It's an expression of what it means to the King to be 'defender of faiths'.  As head of the Church of England he's defender of Christian faith dutifully protecting the freedom of everyone to follow their own faith in pursuit of the common good. To act exclusively about our beliefs is a sign of insecurity and weakness, ultimately a manifestation of a lack of faith.

Tonight's episode of  'Astrid - Murders in Paris' was about the assassination of a hi-tech entrepreneur, an innovator in developing artificial intelligence making use of a human avatar modelled on the attributes of a particular woman whose death had been unexplained and untimely. The complexity of the plot isn't as important as the notion that sophistication in the humanoid interface to a computer was so realistic it was hard to tell it wasn't a real person conversing with an enquirer through a video screen. This was used for deception and incitement to murder. The rapid acceleration of AI capability in recent months is now provoking concern about its controllability, and what happens if it fall into the hands of 'bad actors', the latest piece of jargon for criminals, villains, baddies etc. 

This storyline was written about the time the pandemic started, filmed and broadcasted early after lock-down. It wasn't quite science fiction at the time. Meanwhile we've seen the rise of fake news and 'false flag' operations in the Russian war over Ukraine, so fiction and reality are already meeting each other in unfolding events. AI computing is very energy intensive and has a big carbon footprint, but will this new wonder tool be an asset or a liability in the battle to save humankind from the catastrophic effects of global warming? I can't say I'm optimistic.

Royal Edition

This morning early I posted the link to Morning Prayer in place of Ruth who's unwell. She was going to be away this week when I offered, but she and her husband caught covid instead and had to stay home. I went to the Eucharist at St Catherine's. There were seven of us for the service.  It was good to have our sacristan Clive administering the chalice for the first time.

After coffee, I went and collected this week's veggie bag then returned for lunch and a siesta before a walk around Llandaff and Pontcanna Fields. As a result of recent days of rain the water level in the Taff as risen enough to flow over the entire width of the weir for the first time since February according to my record in photographs.

There was a hard choice of viewing on telly this evening 'Autumnwatch' was on at the same time as 'The Repair Shop' - Royal Edition! Prince Charles, as he was at the time, visited the team workshop with a vase and a carriage clock to restore. Not only that, the team went on location to Dumfries House in Scotland, where Prince Charles has established a training centre for all kinds of craftsmen and restorers of historic objects. Hundreds of young people have learned specialist skills that have made them employable, and for some a lifelong vocation as an artisan.

They were shown around and introduced to students and apprentice masters by the Prince himself. It was a wonderful showcase programme for all the things that presenter Jay Blades and King Charles care about and promote. The warm mutual regard they demonstrated was a delight to witness. A relaxed and informal view of the man soon to become King when the programme was recorded. An inspirational hour, and providential timing in terms of the public's impression of our new sovereign.

It was followed by a fascinating documentary which surveyed the entire history of children's television programmes, pointing out their innovatory and sometimes radical controversial character, contributing in quite a subversive way to nurturing social change. Many of the early programmes visited I remember from growing up, but those from the period when our children grew up, I knew very little about, which only goes to show how seldom I sat down and watched telly with the kids when they were growing into their teens. Too busy 'vicaring' as they'd observe, no doubt.

Royal flying visit

After breakfast this morning I walked over to Pontcanna Fields to await the King's arrival. I was there just after ten, and had more than an hour to wait. The tree lined avenue was cordoned off and lined with police officers. Down the path to Blackweir Bridge a line of VIP vehicles was parked and dozens of officials and security personnel were gathered, along with photographers. Getting a clear view of the King's helicopter landing spot wasn't easy, as nobody was allowed on the side of the avenue next to the field. The view from behind the banking that carries the road was restricted, so I had to use the full extent of my Olympus long lens to get any worthwhile photos, and crop them on editing.

It was eleven twenty when the King's helicopter arrived. I was surprised to see that it wasn't a military but rather a civilian one in maroon livery. As the King was at Highgrove House in Gloucestershire overnight,  the flight most probably started there, about half an hour away from Pontcanna Fields. Fairly quickly, the royal party and their minders drove away from the landing field up the avenue. Three police motorcyclists went first, with a single police motorcyclist in front of the usual regal Rolls Royce, with the royal standard pennant on top. 

On a whim, I decided to use my Sony HX90 in burst mode to capture a sequence of pictures of the passing royal car, but this was a complete failure. It takes great photos very quickly, but takes several seconds to save them to the camera's SD card. I got the motorcyclists, and the approach of the royal car, but as it went past me I was still waiting for the previous burst of photos to be saved. So disappointing!

I went home then, in time to watch the service from Llandaff Cathedral. It was lovely to see the faces of several people I know taking part. Throughout, it was thoroughly bilingual, hymns, readings, prayers, wth a special anthem written for the occasion, accompanied by the past and present Royal Harpist. The BBC delivered English subtitles - and they were readable for a change. Archbishop Andy spoke well. Five people took part in prayers of intercession, led by Bishop June, including Muslim and Jewish as well as ecumenical representatives. It was a splendid affirmation of Wales' diversity and bilingualism.

We watched the ceremonies that followed in the Senedd while eating lunch. It was nice to see Barry our former Archbishop commenting on the service in the studio afterwards. Clare was inspired to take off to the Castle to see the King arrive. She caught a bus, but was five minutes too late getting there. I followed on foot. We stood among the crowds opposite the Castle and waited for an hour and a half for the royal car to depart, through an inter-service military guard of honour outside the gate, with scores of police officers on the street, and other officials in their dark suits and black ties, standing around doing goodness knows what. After a long wait in a chill wind, it was over in a couple of minutes. 

We went to Barker's Coffee House in Castle Arcade for a warm-up drink, and a sit down. Clare then went to the crystal jewellery shop next door, and spotted a possible birthday present, which I purchased after she'd set out to walk home. I went to bank a cheque, caught a bus to Canton and walked the rest of the way home, then edited and uploaded a second batch of photos of this exceptional day. No good photos of the King, but a fair number of pictures of the setting of his arrival and departure from the edge of the action, as ever in my case. You can see them here

After supper, I started writing a Sunday sermon and got stuck half way. I needed further study on the text I'm expounding, but didn't feel like it, so I watched a couple of episodes of 'The Wagner Method' on my laptop instead.

Accession Day

It was good to wake up to sunshine and a day without rain after a long night's sleep followed by a pancake breakfast. Then I finished tomorrow's sermon and next Thursday's Morning Prayer video and it was time for lunch. In the background, news of the King's Accession ceremony broadcasted live for the first time, in the presence of state and church leaders past and present. After the solemn proclamation it was heartening to see the guardsmen kneel to lay down their rifles, then stand to take of their bearskin hats, ready to raise them in three cheers for the king. Whether intended or not, I saw in this moment an expression of personal homage to the new sovereign by men who are by professional soldiers.

Clare cooked me a couple of lamb chops for lunch, stewed with potatoes. She forgot to season them, and the resulting plain flavour reminded me of my mother's home cooking when I was a child. We didn't use a great variety of seasonings sixty years ago, no garlic, few spices or herbs. How life and taste has changed. After lunch I went to Tesco's for a bottle of wine and some flowers forClare, then walked in the park for an hour and a half before returning to watch more news.

Tomorrow the King's accession will be proclaimed in Belfast, Edinburgh and Cardiff at noon, repeating the declaration made at St James' Palace and the City of London. Good to know digital communication hasn't done away with the human element. At a time when video faking is becoming more sophisticated and taking centre stage in a current work of dramatic fiction on telly, the real presence of a person giving the news in front of live audience of witnesses is as relevant as it ever was. It's much more than just being a piece of tradition.

The Queen's body will lie in state in Holyrood House, and then St Giles' Cathedral Edinburgh over two days for people to pay their respects, then flown to London to lie in state for four days in Westminster Hall, giving a longer opportunity for people to file past her coffin and pay their respects. I wouldn't be surprised if the numbers visiting greatly exceed those anticipated. Her state funeral takes place a week Monday.

I spent part of the evening preparing prayers for tomorrow's liturgy, and then relaxed in front of the telly without non-stop news updates with a rerun of ridiculous 'Girl in the Spider's Web' movie before bed. Just for something completely different.

Mourning ritual

Another day of clouds, sunshine and showers. After breakfast I went to St John's to share in the Requiem Mass for the Queen. There were nineteen of us present, and the service was streamed on Facebook as well. Then I went to town, hoping to hear the great tenor bell of St John's City Parish Church, tolling ninety-six times to mark the Queen's passing. I wasn't disappointed. I met Ruth in the porch, welcoming visitors and alerting them to the fact that the  usual midday Mass was going on. She told me Evan Chapman the verger was doing the honours up in the tower's ringing chamber. Good to hear he's still there, over twenty years in quiet service of the church's solemn ritual if not longer to my knowledge.

I recorded some of the tolling, and then went to the Castle for the Royal Welsh Regiment's ceremonial honouring of the departed monarch with a ninety six gun salute. People were queuing along Castle Street in the drizzle to be security checked into the grounds. I joined a crowd of about a thousand others waiting for the salute, scheduled at one o'clock. By the time the ceremony started, the number had doubled. I took nearly sixty photographs and a short video of four out of the ninety six rounds. 

The ceremonial field guns were positioned with their armourers standing watch over them, and then at ten to one the teams responsible for each one in full dress uniform marched to their assigned positions, behind each gun. With meticulous punctuality, they fired a round every ten seconds, beginning as the City Hall clock struck one and ending at one sixteen. Each team then left the field in their personnel vehicle, towing their gun. The crowd was too dense to see all that was going on. For security reasons no vantage points from above were accessible. Press cameras were on a grassy bank about a metre about the field itself.

In the course of taking photos beforehand and trying to keep my camera from getting wet while it was still drizzling, I lost my camera lens cap. When I realised, I retrace my steps, and fortunately a couple and a young girl had spotted it on the ground, and left it there in case I returned. I was lucky! It seemed like everyone in the crowd was taking photos on their phones - hundreds of people with both hands held high in the air to position themselves for their best shots. I wasn't able to get near the crush barrier so my photos weren't as good as I hoped for. Nevertheless, when I reached home, late for lunch I spent the afternoon editing the sound files I'd made and incorporating them into a video slide show, which I thought my sister June would appreciate, and maybe a few others as well.

At six o'clock, before the national thanksgiving service at St Paul's Cathedral, we watched King Charles' first speech as our new sovereign. It was a warm tribute to his mother's vocation and life's work and he included twice his solemn pledge to continue to minister to the nation in the same way as his mother. He acknowledged that his life would change in the light of his new role, but expressed confidence that the things he was passionate about over the past fifty years now had momentum of their own in the hands of many others. 

The service following was good, uplifting music, carefully chosen readings and some new prayers for the departed I wasn't familiar with, but which spoke poetically about the mystery of eternity and resurrection. Such public prayers for the dead in a CofE service back at the beginning of Elizabeth's reign would have led to hard-line Protestants causing uproar, alleging papist inflitration. Not only the world, but the church is a different place from how it was when I was a kid.

End of an era

A day of clouds, sunshine and rain. I posted the link to this week's Morning Prayer upload before getting up for breakfast, then went to the Eucharist at St John's celebrating the birth of the Virgin Mary. A down pour began after I left church and I sheltered in the porch of 'The Corp Market' for ten minutes until it eased off enough to continue walking home. Unfortunately, instead of my jacket getting wet my trousers got soaked by cars splashing through water not draining off the road quickly enough.

News started coming in of concern for the Queen's health as I was cooked a lentil dish for lunch. Members of the Royal Family making their way hastily to Balmoral, suggesting the end is in sight for Her Majesty. After lunch I decided it was time to recycle some old redundant computers, all still working under Linux, but not with the speed and memory capability I need these days. I took three of them along to Davey at Tourotech who acts on behalf of a colleague with an IT recycling business whose shop nearby closed during the pandemic. They all fitted into one laptop bag and its was very heavy to carry. 

This leaves me with five computers of various ages, all used for different purposes and situations. One is twelve years old, running Windows Vista, retained because it drives my photo negative scanner. I would have to pay as much as the cost of a new scanner to acquire software to run the device on a Windows 10 machine. Best to keep the old machine until there are no more negatives left to scan. 

Another machine is ten years old with a solid state drive running Linux. Then there's a Chromebook, a Windows 10 laptop and a Windows 10 workstation with a big screen. Crazy really, but all have their uses on different occasions. It's strange to have a phone powerful enough to use for emails and text messaging in any time or place. I spend far less time now sitting writing at a desk or table because I can do short pieces of business and check information on my Blackberry instead, despite the risk of getting repetitive strain injury from one fingered typing.

By the time we were sitting down to supper, news of the Queen's death was being announced, and all normal programme schedules on radio and telly were suspended and given over the reporting on the event and reactions to it world wide, and no wonder. So much has changed in the world over the past seventy years of her reign, appointing fifteen prime ministers, from Winston Churchill to Liz Truss over ninety percent of my lifetime. The Prince of Wales became King Charles the Third around six this evening. Despite the rain, crowds of mourners are gathering outside Buckingham Palace, Windsor Castle, Balmoral and probably Sandringham as well. 

Our churches are opening for prayer, There'll be an extra service at St John's in the morning, a Requiem Mass for the longest serving Queen in the past Millennium. King Charles takes the mantle of continuity, and will wear it in his own way. I hope and pray his long standing advocacy on environment issues will continue. He was right to speak out, and those who mocked him are proved to be the fools, in a light of the climate crisis. May Queen Elizabeth rest in peace. Long live King Charles.