Milestone MOT

Up for breakfast at eight o'clock on a day of clouds and sunshine. When I was saying morning prayer later, I realised I'd made a mistake in selecting the lesson for next week's Morning Prayer video. Today's New Testament reading was what I thought was the one for next Thursday. As a result the reflection I'd written for the occasion was incorrect, so I reverted to the text for that day, amended it, then set about writing a different reflection. I can re-record the lesson and reflection, edit the sound recording and change the accompanying video slide show to suit. Fortunately, I keep handy backups of every recent project, there's no need to re-record the whole thing. When all the changes are made the new version can be uploaded to YouTube. That'll teach me to be more careful next time.

Clare went out for coffee with Diana mid-morning and I cooked lunch in time for her return. We couldn't eat and I had to got to the surgery for another blood pressure check. On this occasion it was deemed to be normal so I was 'discharged' i.e. don't need another.  Hopefully this information will percolate back to the hospital waiting list database containing my pre-op information, though I doubt it will make any difference to the amount of queuing time, already five years. From the surgery, I walked to Cowbridge Road to take a bus into town. As I reached the stop a C1 cross-city bus arrived, which took me to West Grove in Adamsdown, leaving me with just fifteen minutes walking to reach the N G Motors garage to collect the car, freshly serviced and MOT'd for another year, and still with only 50,000 miles on the clock instead of an average mileage of 200,000 miles for a car sixteen years old. I think we've only driven about 8,000 miles since we bought it. I called at Lidl's for some groceries before driving home.

I was listening to Radio Three on the way back, and just as I arrive home Beethoven's Ninth symphony was about to play, so after eating the lunch I cooked earlier, I sat and listened to it for an hour. Ashley rang after it finished. It's a month since we last talked. We chatted for half an hour, then I went out for another walk before supper.

I did the necessary work to amend next Thursday's prayer video after supper and post a new version to YouTube. It took me an hour. Then I watched this week's episode of 'Disturbing Disappearances' on More Four, about the abandonment of a new-born child and disappearance of its teenage mother. It was unconventional, both a police procedural and a family drama at the same time, touching both bases successfully, hitting the feelgood factor in its happy ending.

Wet Friday

Rain all morning, so I started work on next week's Morning Prayer and Reflection, then cooked lunch. Weather warnings about high winds have been issued but our side of Cardiff hasn't been affected. Once the rain stopped I went out and did the week's grocery shopping at the Coop.

While Clare went to shop at Beanfreaks I recorded and edited the texts prepared earlier while the house was completely quiet. Job done, I walked around Llandaff Fields and down to Blackweir Bridge. For the first time in many months the river Taff flowed across the complete width of the weir, just. A lot of rain must have has fallen at night this last couple of days. Two cormorants were fishing for eels in troubled water just below the weir.

After supper, I worked on Sunday's sermon for an hour, then watched the first episode in a new French crimmie series on More Four entitled 'Disturbing Disappearances' about a specialist missing persons team. It was set in Strasbourg, and as it was the second film I've watched in French lately, my ear was attuned to the dialogue and I enjoyed following with not much need for the subtitles. I wish there were more things in Spanish that I could watch, as I would benefit from improving my Spanish aural comprehension to the same level as French. 

Cyber intrigue portrayed

We were back in church at St Catherine's for this morning's Eucharist. It looks bright and clean after the re-decoration. There were eight of us with Mother Frances. She spoke interestingly about St Thomas More's 'Utopia', a book I've never read. He was a man of conscience in Henry VIII's government opposing schism from Rome and Henry declaring himself head of the church. Although More was much valued by the king, he paid with his life for defying Henry, and sticking to his principles. It was a timely reminder of Christian integrity in the midst of our current political leadership crisis.

After the service, a coffee and a chat, I collected this week's veggie bag, returned home to investigate the mail order purchase from Church House London of baptism cards and communion wafers to take with me, as I've been requested to look into it.  in London to see if delivery would be possible by Monday next at the latest. I had no luck however, as there were none of either in stock right now, and time is running short.

Clare cooked a fish pie for lunch with a sweet potato topping. It made a change from ordinary potatoes, much lighter on the digestion. Then I went into town to deposit a cheque and inform Santander Bank about my debt card use abroad. It was confirmed that the least expensive way to buy in euros is to use a Santander ATM to withdraw cash, as this doesn't attract a fee the way using a card for purchases does. Good to know. I also looked for new travel bags, as few of the ones we have match our need to fly without hold baggage this time around. Not only does this cut the cost, but in a time when baggage handling is suffering from staff shortages internationally, it means being able to come and go without baggage delay. 

The dedicated luggage store has gone from St David Centre. M&S offered nothing, John Lewis' range of travel bags was far too expensive, except for a small rucksack in the sale. House of Frazer had a decent selection. Many of them were discounted. For just under sixty quid I got two really useful items for less than half their total price. Mission accomplished!

In the evening I binge watched 'The Undeclared War' on More Four, a drama about a cyber attack with GCHQ at the front line. It was written earlier this year, set in 2024. Embedded in the first episode was a news report featuring a new Prime Minister addressing a protesting crowd. We were told that eighteen months earlier Boris Johnson had been ousted in Parliamentary coup. And this was made before this weeks tide of government resignations was even contemplated, just before the confidence vote I think. Fiction and fact bumping into each other. The overall story makes a good job of explaining Russia's cyber warfare strategy, whilst portraying a brilliant young student intern working with an surprising an experienced team of geeks. I don't know how credible it is in all the detail, but it seems credible enough and does resort to a semi magical view of the digital world. Not a bad piece of educational propaganda in the light of the Ukraine war.

Training on Zoom

After breakfast this morning, it took me a while to work out exactly the best place to install myself for the Diocese in Europe Zoom training session on Safeguarding, to ensure were I could get a stable signal, and be visible to other participants. There were seventeen of us including the three trainers, from Chaplaincies in Turkey, Norway, Hungary, Germany, Holland, Italy, France and Switzerland. Chaplains, Lay Readers, musicians and other officers, Wardens, an ordinand and a Catholic priest preparing for Anglican ministry, a fine cross section of people engaged in the diocese. It all worked without a hitch, and was a worthwhile session. The homework is to watch two hours worth of video about sex offender Bishop Peter Ball, and all the safeguarding concerns surrounding that notorious case.

After my last disaster involving this training when I got the time wrong, I was nervous about it happening again, or something else technical sabotaging the occasion. The added complication was Clare having a Skype session with her Jazz piano teacher, whose time overlapped with mine - what if two internet video calls simultaneously created problems for us both? Well, it didn't, but Clare had a separate problem with her call, as she kept on losing the audio, although her video was unaffected. In the end she had to give up and troubleshoot. It turned out that her method of attaching her tablet to stand so she could chat hands free while playing was blocking the tiny aperture containing the microphone. Problem solved. She completed her lesson later in the afternoon.

Ashley and I met for a drink at the Saffron Cafe at tea time, then I returned home and remembered that I'd not collected my prescription medication, so I had to go out again to the surgery to pick up the script, and take it to the pharmacy across the road from the surgery, which fortunately was still open. Now I'm fully equipped for my stay in Spain. I did the same before going to Ibiza, though I only took two months worth of medication with me and due to my extended stay, had to secure a prescription in situ and pay for medication. To succeed in this I had to contact the surgery and ask them to find out what the name of the equivalent drug would be in Spain. Bless them, it took a couple of days but I got a useful reply that satisfied the need. Looking back, I'm amazed to think that I navigated my way through all that.

Clare went to the last Amser Jazz session of the term at RWCMD, while I waited for her to return for supper, I watched another episode of 'Coroner' on More Four, and then more after supper. The plot gets more complex and confusing in a seemingly never ending story of professional lives overlaid with  family dysfunction - the price that's paid for being excellent at the job - it's a theme which often seems to crop up in police and medical procedural sagas. A reflection of our era maybe?

It's Owain's fortyfourth birthday today and he's out in Switzerland staying with his friend Ludo in Nyon. He posted a lovely picture of Lac Leman on Instagram this evening. As I expected, the weather has been kind, and he's been 'wild' swimming today in one of the most civilised places to do so. Quite a number of the lakeside Communes with beaches have proper changing rooms with showers, picnic areas and barbequeue areas. It's been like that for the past half century at least. I love that lake.

On track again

I woke up late in sunshine after going to bed early, and reading for an hour, then losing sleep due to coughing when eventually I lay down. The sore throat has gone, replaced by disgusting heavy catarrh which will probably last for days, I was slow getting started for church and arrived a couple of minutes late for the St Catherine's Eucharist. There were eleven of us. I stayed for coffee and chatted with Clive and David until it was time to return for lunch. Fortunately, Clare was in the last stage of cooking lunch, happy not to rely on me, now her back is improving except for when heavy shopping bags from the Coop were delivered and needed bringing in. Sensible precaution.

After eating I started work on next week's Thursday prayer video upload with the texts Ruth provided for the purpose. It's Corpus Christin next week, sparking an idea about a reflection, which I wrote, recorded and edited in an hour. Then I went looking for a replacement fit-bit in shops I didn't visit yesterday. Sadly, no luck, but I did find a Huawei Band 4 activity tracker which does all the same things in W H Smith's of all places. It costs half the amount of a replacement fit-bit and as I had £1.50 left on a gift card to make use of, I got it for even less.

It's slightly larger with a different user interface, and more flexible in that it can be worn on the writ band provided, or in a clamp which can be attached to a laced up shoe, or an ankle strap. A useful addition. Setting it up wasn't  straightforward. A user guide which needed a powerful magnifying glass to read, was equipped with a set of QR codes sending you to app installations on Huawei's own cloud service. 

The Blackberry wasn't happy about the security of this and refused to install anything with dire 'be it on your own head' threats. Fortunately Google Play Store provides the necessary apps for phone and tracker cleared by its own Play Protect software, so after much trial and error I got the thing running with one minor annoyance. App update notifications, directing me to the Huawei cloud service which the Blackberry doesn't like, with no updates available on Play Store. As the device user interface is different, it will take some getting used to. It remains to be seen whether or not its strap is as durable as the Samsung one I had to replace.

After supper, another edition of 'Springwatch', all about nesting birds and badgers under surveillance by webcam, This was followed by a nature documentary on More Four about the river Clyde. Another tale of a river which for more than a century couldn't sustain a fish population returning to life with the demise of polluting industries, just like the Taff. There were some remarkable pictures of a century old hydro-electric power station under a sixty metre waterfall, still going strong, house in a white painted industrial building with huge windows letting in natural light, and a big panel of dials monitoring the generator output, a classic design. All for show nowadays, as the plant is now watched over by digital devices from a laptop. Worthwhile watching.

Truth suppression

I got to bed very late last night and rose just after nine having switched on the radio at half past seven and then fallen asleep again. The battle for control of one of Ukraine's nuclear power stations led to an office building being set alight. but none of the nuclear reactors were damaged thankfully. This has sent a frisson of anxiety around the world, given the likelihood of the conflict escalating even more dangerously. 

Putin's government has imposed a complete ban on all independent news gathering organisations in Russia in the hope of suppressing all news except that from officially sanctioned government sources. Officially, all news not propagated by the Russian government is deemed fake news and communicating it is an offence punishable by years in prison. Mobile phones can still be used to relay news across borders on a one to one basis. Russians are used to keeping up to date by word of mouth, however, and foreign websites can still be accessed by tech savvy VPN users which hide the true location and identity of users. One hopes that this kind of news leakage will alert people at grass roots level to what is being done in their name and lead them to act eventually, hopefully not too late for the world..

Clare had her piano lesson after breakfast, and I had to wait for the house to fall silent again before I could start making recordings, both video and audio. I cooked a veggie pasta sauce for lunch while she was having her lesson, then recorded a short video introduction for next Tuesday's extra prayer video assignment. I wanted to incorporate a video clip introduction with the slides and audio, but the software I used didn't do what I assumed it would, but once the slide show video was complete it was easy to join it with the other clip, and all turned out well. There must be other ways of doing this. I'm amazed some folk manage to record and edit video on their phones with ease. I don't like viewing myself talking to camera, let alone editing the result. I find it embarrassing to look at myself while I talk.

It was four o'clock by the time I went out for a long walk at a brisk pace, much needed after all that digital wrestling. Clare went off to the Royal Welsh College for this week's Amser Jazz. Highlight of the evening was another two hour episode of Rocco Schiavone on More Four. I moves slowly and stories are complex, but full of marvellous character portrayals. Each week's story stands on its own, but there are linked threads running through the series, the characters and relationships it explores.

Viewing promise and pleasure

Today we were advised to stay indoors, and although it was pretty windy in the morning, it was no worse than it had been for days. There was also sunshine and clouds constantly changing shape moving at speed, driven by westerly gale force winds, and after lunch I ventured out for a walk to see what damage had been done. I'm sure that down on the coast it would indeed have been dangerous to go out, but the Cardiff coastal flood plain sits beneath a 70 metre ridge on the west side, enough to deflect the full force of any wind from the west.

I started writing and recording uninterruptedly next week's Morning Prayer video after breakfast, and had uploaded it to YouTube before we had lunch. It was pleasing to achieve that in a spell of down-time with nothing else to do. 

I walked over to Tesco's to look for a replacement steam mop, but they didn't stock one. B&M, the bargain supermarket did however. I bought one, and then went to Aldi's supermarket for some wine, lugging the box with the mop in it. With a bit more planning I would have gone to Aldi first and not B&M. How silly of me. While I was in the store there was a shower of hailstones and then rain, the wind blowing cold and hot in turn. It didn't last long. The setting sun poked through dark storm clouds. It was quite spectacular and in five minutes I was walking home again, with the wind dying down and no more rain or hail. I felt quite exhilarated.

I've had confirmation today from eye surgeon Andrew that the forthcoming cataract operation he plans to organise for me will be pro bono. How amazing is that! It's strange that the visual impairment I have is hardly noticeable in bright sunny weather, only in some low light conditions and when using a camera viewfinder. When the sun is low in the sky, no matter how bright, it tends to trigger a migraine aura, and that's a real worry. Night driving isn't too bad, although I get double vision in the worst eye. Funnily enough with a phone or computer screen, although I'm aware of slightly misty vision, it doesn't hinder reading, as long as I wear reading specs'. It's low light that really makes me aware of the problem that now seems within reach of being resolved. I'm amazed and thanking God.

This evening, I finished watching 'La Promesse' with its unusual denouement and family reconciliation as a happy ending. Interesting - this is the second serialised French crime drama in a row I've watched in which there's a happy family ending in the face of an embedded tragedy. The last one - 'Beyond Appearances' also featured a female led storyline, but was about a TV show presenter and her twin.

Job done, I spent and hour writing and then watched another Rocco Schiavone episode, weaving his back story with that of an investigation into a double patricide. Rocco is a rough cut version of Salvo Montalbano. Working out which sibling was the perpetrator was a long unexpected journey, with more moments of ribald Italian humour. And the views of the Val d'Aosta are so gorgeous!

Llanerchaeron House

A cooler cloudy day today. After breakfast we drove inland to Llanerchaeron House a Regency country house designed by London architect John Nash in 1795, set in verdant parkland above the river Aeron, within a mile of where we reached in yesterday's walk. There's an ornamental lake, extensive farm buildings, a collection of antique agricultural machinery, and a 200m long walled garden, containing another kind of  collection - apple tree varietals from far and wide. The last owner to live here bequeathed the property and its furnishings to the National Trust having moved in after the first world war, so it's typical of an inter-war country gentleman's home. Down the land from the property is an 18th century parish church, bi-lingually advertising Sunday services.

We booked an arrival time-slot, permitting free entrance to the grounds. The small cafe restaurant, in a period piece corrugated iron green painted building next to the ticket office was serving food and drinks to visitors in a socially distanced outdoor picnic area. One way routes through house and garden were well signed, and visitors could move freely outdoors, only needing to queue for up to half an hour get into the house. It was lovely to see mostly voluntary staff happily welcoming visitors and sharing the story of the house, many of them were Welsh speakers.

Three hours of walking around the domain and having lunch al fresco left us both feeling tired, so we returned for a siesta, and then went for another walk around the far side of the port after tea. The tide was a long way out which gave an opportunity to walk down into the harbour bed and take a few photos of boats beached.

The fishmonger's stall on the quay was open today, and Clare bought some scallops and hake for supper, so fresh, so delicious - a delightful treat. Then I watched a couple of episodes of Canadian crimmie series 'Coroner' on More Four. I'm not convinced the complex story-lines add up when several key characters have mental health issues that would be bound to compromise their effectiveness in real life. 

Internal refugee story

I posted the YouTube Morning Prayer video link just after Thought for the Day this morning, after long but disrupted night's sleep. I didn't feel ready to drive myself to 'the Res' for my funeral planning meeting so I walked to Cowbridge Road to get a number 18 bus. I had a much longer wait than expected, and only just arrived in time. The bereaved children told an extraordinary story of how their mother had been born in Lewisham just before war broke out, and that her mother had walked from there with her as a babe in arms to a farm near Pembroke where her early childhood years were spent before moving to Cardiff. 

I'm not sure how much more detail they had of her beginnings. When I checked later, I found Lewisham had been one of the first South East London boroughs to be hit by the blitz, a later by V1 and V2 rockets. In the first month of attack the response to those made homeless by bombing was chaotic, evacuation was still at an early stage, so those who could, fled the capital one way or another, and if you couldn't afford a train ticket you walked and begged lifts. And that's only part of the remarkable story I'll be telling in her funeral eulogy.

By the time I arrived home Clare had already arrived from school and lunch was on the table. Her story session in kindergarten Mark accompanying on violin was a delight and a success with the little ones. He truly fits the pied piper role. After a restorative siesta, a walk around Llandaff and Pontcanna Fields. I took several good bird photos with my new Olympus telephoto lens, missel thrush, pied wagtail and a wren out of the trees for once, singing from its perch atop the fence around the tennis courts.

In the evening I watched an episode of a Canadian series on More Four called 'Coroner' set in Toronto. It's already been running five weeks. It's a courtroom drama with domestic, forensic and police elements. This episode was about the white police killing of an innocent black man, slowly revealed to be a cover-up job, a perennial a issue in Canada, as in the USA. I have another five episodes to catch up on, next time there's a rainy day and nothing better to do

Necessary caution

I woke up just as the seven o'clock news was starting, and was cheered to learn that Wales has the lowest covid infection rate at the moment, and this makes it possible for a further lifting of restrictions Monday next, including large controlled groups at sports events. Owain announced on Instagram yesterday that he's one of the crew of deejays at a first post lock-down techno gig in Bristol's newest hospitality venue 'Strange Brew.

Meanwhile, numbers of Indian covid variant infections continue to grow, althought the impact on numbers hospitalized is not yet major cause for concern. A push to vaccinate the overwhelming majority of the population continues. It's seen as a key means alongside existing hygiene precautions to curb the virus growth rate. The government has imposed amber status travel restrictions of travel to and from Portugal, with unexpected consequences for holidaymakers and the Portuguese economy The logic of this move is being questioned by everyone affected, but the justification for this move is around what is unknown about the contagion potential of a new Nepalese derivative of the Indian virus variant.

Radio Four's 'Desert Island Discs' today interviewed Amanda Khosi Mukwashi CEO of Christian Aid. An unashamedly Christian African woman from Zambia with a wonderful story of faith in her life journey. Great inspiration for a Friday morning. 

I walked to St John's for today's lunchtime funeral. The coffin was transported in a glass panelled hearse drawn by two white horses wearing purple plumes. After the service I rode in a car with Ian, one of the attendants, up to Western Cemetery for the Committal, instead of having to drive myself. We had to sit in the car and wait half an hour for the hearse to arrive., in beautiful warm sunny weather. Thanks to the Jag's comfortable seats and room to brace my feet against the bulkhead, I survived the misery which sitting down involves at the moment, and returned home no worse for wear.

I walked for an hour and a half in tbe park after returning home and spotted a mating pair of goldfinches roraging in the newly mown grass alongside a misseltthrush.

We had mussels and rice laced with  diced fried veg for supper plus a delicious bottle of Frascati - my go-to summer white wine.

In the evening a  another awe inspiring 'Springwatch' hour on BBC2 and an emotionally powerful Rocco Schiavone episode on More Four. Extraordinary gritty  Italian movie storytelling. Sadly, tonight was the end of the first 2016 series. We'll have to wait for the 2018-19 series two and three to be screened.

Three dimensional ethics

After breakfast this morning, I worked on editing and condensing on next week's reflections for a couple of hours, then went for a pre-lunch turn around the park. I'm amazed at the growth of the French Beans planted three days ago. One of the six hasn't sprouted at all, a fifth is starting to emerge three days behind the others. Will it end up doing as well? We'll see.

More good news about the continued reduction in covid infections and deaths over the past week. This is a review following the easing of restrictions in England five weeks ago, and shows no infection set-back has occurred as a result.  This has been sustained both due to over half the country being once vaccinated and a third vaccinated twice, plus social distancing and other precautions still being followed by many. It's so good to see pubs and restaurants opening for outdoor service. 

I was particularly pleased to see that the tiny St Canna's Ale house on Llandaff Road has transformed its back yard in recent weeks with the addition of a solid canopy sheltering all the yard area at a three metre height above ground. I think this is a far sighted investment by a popular real ale pub with a substantial following. 

Most places have gone for tents or umbrellas within enclosed serving areas. Heaneys, our local nouvelle cuisine restaurant with its own cocktail bar-cum-cafe next door has canopied its car park. The building was once a paint store, with huge shop windows and a narrow forecourt, where clients parked off road. Not the most congenial of dining environments even after an extensive makeover. The forecourt is fenced off now with outdoor tables under big umbrellas and flowering plant pots punctuating the enclosure line. The shop windows no longer detracts from its appearance. It's somehow more inviting now. I wish them success in the bounce back to normality. The pandemic has really changed the ambience of city centre and Pontcanna streets for the better.

After lunch I drove Clare over to Cathays to the University Optometrists to collect her new varifocal specs which look very good on her, and deliver a hoped for improvement, given the slow deterioration of her eyesight. She's been for a DVLA mandated two-eyes field of vision test at Specsavers this week, and now we wait to hear whether the results will permit her to hold a license or not.

Then, another walk down to the river and back before supper and this week's episode of 'New Amsterdam', which was all about the ethics and values behind crowd funding for medical aid for patients who couldn't afford life saving treatments. A discussion of the issues in an essay wouldn't be nearly as engaging as a well thought out film script in the hands of the right director. The argument in words may be something any reasonable person could follow, but a movie condenses and symbolises the issues in a way that allows the reason, imagination and critical faculties of a recipient to engage with. It provokes genuine discussion over values we can identify with. We need all the tools we can find to help us analyse and think creatively

Getting ready for Easter

Occasional bursts of rain and cold winds today. I had an appointment for a blood pressure check at the GP surgery at ten. It's much the same as it was when I last went, when I was still taking the doxazosin, so at least I've not made things any worse. I had a good discussion with the practice nurse, who, knowing my condition wasn't unduly concerned about the reading she took. I discovered that she used to work on the Llandough day surgery colorectal surgery team with Mrs Cornish. A reassuring surprise.

As I've been asked to do the Easter Week on-line Morning Prayer and Reflection, I wrote the first in the series of six, starting from an idea I remembered from last night as I was falling asleep. I've also been asked to celebrate the Eucharist at St Catherine's next Wednesday. I enjoy being in the congregation on the receiving end, but no longer feel that as I priest I must, out of devotion if not duty, be celebrating as often as I can. Being able to stand in and support our overworked clergy team means a lot, and gives me a different kind of pleasure and satisfaction. 

I had a preparatory phone conversation with the chief mourner for next Thursday's funeral. I'm standing in for Fr Jesse in Caerau with Ely Parish. As it's Maundy Thursday, he'll be gathering, in the flesh or digitally, for the Chrism Mass with other clergy I imagine. I've had to cover in the past when there have been funerals on this day. 

Clare went into town to bank a cheque and enquire about transferring big sums digitally and she returned reassured by what she learned. I cooked a paella with prawns in it for lunch, and that worked out well. Clare was late returning, but it was just ready finally as she came through the door.

I fell asleep again after lunch and went out late for a walk, late in the sense that Clare had booked me to take her to Rumney for her first post lock-down hairdo with Chris at six. We were surprised at how little traffic there was. It took us half the usual drive time to get there. I returned, got supper ready for her, and spent the evening writing in front of the telly, catching up on this week's 'New Amsterdam' episode. One of the stories was about a prayer group which met in the hospital concourse. Good things were seen to happen when they were around. 

Dr Max Goodwin, the hospital director is of Jewish origins, a very secular scientist. He tolerates the group's presence, unprepared to see any difference their prayer is supposed to make until he himself ends up trying to intercede for a patient with a new life threatening ailment, who then inexplicably recovers. Everyone is relieved and grateful but mystified by what happens. Even the pastor of the prayer group admits he doesn't know how it happens: "But I know one good thing." he says smiling. "Prayer changes us inside!" A-men to that.

Croeso Dewi Sant

Although I slept quite well, I obviously needed more, so after breakfast, when I'd completed Morning Prayer and some Spanish exercises, I found myself nodding off, and slept soundly for over an hour. All I have to do is relax a while and I fall asleep, but if I have things to do, I can stay continuously active and not feel tired at all. I don't understand it. 

For tomorrow's video reflection, I started thinking about bridges with the re-opening of the Blackweir Bridge topical at the moment. Writing a script came easily, and with a surprise. I googled 'bridges in the Bible' and the search result didn't produce the name of any bridge. The fords of the Jordan and its tributary the Jabbok are mentioned, and the standing stones at the Jordan crossing, but no bridge, despite the fact that Greeks and Romans had already engineered lasting stone bridges around the empire centuries before the time of Christ. Yet, the idea of bridging the gulf between separated entities is there in scripture in the concept of reconciliation. The verb 'to bridge' rather than the noun 'bridge' is what you find. Bridge building is a commonly used metaphor. I didn't have time to dig deeper and find a reason, I first had to think of a way to illustrate the sound recording I made.

When I went for a walk in the afternoon, I went down to Blackweir Bridge and video'd a thirty second introduction to the reflection with the bridge in the background. My Google Photos accounts have scores of bridge photos taken on my travels. The Photos app uses shape recognition technology to guess which ones show a bridge. This gave me a huge variety of pictures to work with for a slide show to go with the audio and the video, and I'm pleased to say that with a little patience, it worked, as planned.

Fran and Mark came around to deliver the completed St David icon she's painted. It's hanging on the dining room wall, and looks magnificent. It' like having a special house guest. The four of us went for a walk in Thompson;s Park so we could chat socially distanced. I took my Sony DSLR with the 50mm lens, which I rarely use, preferring big long lens. The 50mm lens has limited scope compared to others I have, but I thought it was about time I learned how to work with and benefit from those limitations, or find out if there are any benefits. This is very much a matter of trial and error on my part!

I finished the task after supper and watched part of a Welsh language song writing competition with Clare on S4C, before watching this week's 'New Amsterdam' episode on More 4 catch-up. The episode highlighted inadequate health care resources in prison and the terrible impact this has on inmates' mental and physical condition. Tough watching.

Beware the air we breathe

Back to thick grey clouds and intermittent rain today, with more to come in the next few days, and threats of flooding. At least I didn't get too wet, walking before and after lunch. I cooked rice and Brussels sprouts with boil-in-the-bag mussels again, tastes to cheer us on another miserable day.

Official covid infection statistics released today show continued downward progression. In three weeks time phased re-introduction of children to classes in school will begin. Groups of four people from just two households will be able to meet again outdoors from this weekend - but judging from what I observe on my daily walks in the parks, this has been taking place already for weeks, few are even an arm's length away from others, let alone properly socially distanced. There's no sign of enforcement taking place, except in car parks. 

It's good to hear more being said about the risk from airborne infection. The existence of more contagious new variants calls for this to be emphasised, outdoors as well as indoors. I find it strange that early research nearly a year ago revealed the likely role of airborne transmission, yet only in the past three months when the contagion risk had been observed to be much higher has it been given increased prominence in public health advisory videos. 

Drivers of taxis, buses, and above all, ambulance drivers have suffered disproportionately high infection rates due to the amount of time they spend in enclosed spaces transporting, then waiting with patients, and treating them. Their standard of personal protection equipment needs to be much higher than in reality it is. I'm not sure we're hearing much from either unions or the government on what's being done to reduce the risks to health and safety in a crisis. Who cares for the carers here?

The Parish weekly notices are now being delivered by means of Microsoft's Sway, one of the apps that is part of Microsoft Office. The diocese also uses Sway to circulate its weekly info round-robin. An Office user can bring together text, images, web-links, audio and video into a presentation hosted on One Drive and accessible via a URL It can even be used to create a website. In effect, each week's round-robin is a little website of its own. Sway has been around for seven years but like video conferencing apps has seen new uses and users during the pandemic. It's rather passed me by, as I'm no longer delivering 'content' to anyone. I wonder if it will supplant the Christmas newsletter pdf in years to come?

This afternoon I watched this week's episode of 'New Amsterdam' on catch-up, and later in the evening the last episode of 'Rebecka Martinson - Arctic Murders'. Not for the first time in this series, a presumed murder turns out to be an accidental death whose circumstances cause others to lie about it. Tragedy in life can have many layers to it.

Exciting archaeology

I drove to Western Cemetery for a funeral at lunchtime. I think it may be the first time that I've ever  had to take a full service at the graveside. The grandson of the deceased wrote a tribute which I delivered to a group of fifteen people, masked and socially distanced around the grave. The temperature was zero, but the sun shone through a thin layer of cloud making it less than dull, but with a light wind it was pretty cold. Together with the tribute and prayers, we stood there for ten minutes. Not too long for everyone to get really chilled.

Forty years ago when I worked in st Paul's Bristol, a few winter funerals started at Saint Agnes Church, and then went on to burial at a municipal on a windy hilltop on the north east side of the city. The rite of Committal would take a few minutes, but I'd be there at the graveside with a big crowd of West Indian mourners for an hour, while the women sang devotional hymns from Redemption Hymnal, and the men filled in the grave with shovels they brought with them. Wind, drizzle, snow. I remember getting very chilled, frozen feet in particular, but these were unmissable moving community events for a pastor to share in. It wasn't like that today thankfully.

After breakfast I'd received a phone call to say that the funeral team would be four men instead of the usual six, and would I mind if the coffin was lowered into the grave at the start rather than the end of the ceremony, since arranging for the coffin to be placed on two supports over hole until it was time to lower wouldn't be possible. 

I agreed to it, then realised I'd have to make some adjustments to the order of service, putting the formal words of Committal at the start to reflect the legally binding action of lowering the coffin into the ground. As this change was capable of puzzling mourners accustomed to the usual ritual, I rang the grandson to explain, so he could tell the rest of the family, revised me order of service, and despite a wee touch of nervousness about doing something different, it went as planned.

I'm still struggling with the business of glasses steaming up when wearing a mask. Clare suggested that I dip my specs in soapy water and let them dry. It didn't work, so I had to abandon my reading glasses and hope that I could cope in the sunlight, given the impact this can have due to the annoying cataract in my left eye. Reading the tribute in fourteen point spaced print was OK, most of the prayers I used are ones for which I had a smaller print text plus fairly reliable memory back-up. All ended well, and I had a nice thank you email from the grandson later in the day.

After lunch I met up with Ashley on Cowbridge Road, after he had his covid jab at Riverside surgery. We walked side by side to Cardiff Central station and talked for the first time not on the phone since last summer. 

In the evening Clare and I watched a remarkable programme on BBC 2 about the recent archaeological research into the origins of the bluestone circle at Stonehenge. It was proved by chemical fingerprinting some years ago that these originated in Pembrokeshire's Preseli Hills. It's now been established that the stones in the Stonehenge circle are an exact match for a set of pits in a circle of exactly the same radius in the Preseli Hills. Some very clever forensic soil particle analysis has revealed that this collection of stones had first been erected there, some three centuries before they were moved to Stonehenge. Experimental archaeologists have worked out how they could have been dragged overland between sites, along a route that closely resembles that of the A40 road for much of its length. An amazing achievement for modern scientific investigation. The programme clashed with 'Rebecka Martinson Arctic Murders', so I watched this on More Four Catch-up straight after, as I had done later afternoon to catch up with this week's episode of New Amsterdam at tea time.

V-day

After breakfast this morning we walked in good time over to Cardiff City Football Stadium for our covid vaccines. We had a shock when we arrived at the the check-in booth to be told that we couldn't proceed to the vaccination point because we weren't in a car. That was how we discovered that the vaccination centre is 'drive-in only'. 

When we were contacted and given an appointment I said that I was pleased it was near enough for us to walk there together for our vaccination. The practice receptionist said was we wouldn't be able to go in together, and I said that waiting ten minutes outside wouldn't be a problem. It didn't occur to me that this centre was exclusively for recipients on wheels. 

Truth to tell, I know nothing about drive-in facilities anywhere. The only one I can identify in Cardiff is an add-on to a fast food joint. The idea of a drive-in food outlet appals me, an offence against food, un-necessarily adding to pollution and carbon footprint.. Yes, I am deeply prejudiced against the concept, and had difficulty conceiving of a stand alone drive-in outlet without a separate pedestrian facility.

They checked and confirmed that we were listed, and reassured us that the schedule had plenty of slack in it, as people were arriving early and being dealt with speedily. I called a taxi, which arrived in ten minutes and drove us through the facility and then took us home. On schedule!

I've had no reaction, Clare isn't sure if she had a reaction from the vaccine or whether it was just the shock of the unexpected. We wait not until 23rd April for jab number two. Next time we're go by car for sure.

It's may be just an odd coincidence, but when I spoke to Ashley later in the day, he interrogated me in detail after I told him the story. He too had initially been offered a vaccination booking at the stadium by someone who didn't mention to him that it was drive-in only. He declined as the date didn't suit him, and will got to his GP surgery for his next week. I knew it was drive-in, but the decisive word here everyone needs to know is 'only'. I would have been happy to drive there if I'd known, although I walk everywhere or use public transport to get around town as a matter of principle.

Vaccination centres are portrayed in the news all the time. It's presumed that what's self evident to some is obvious to everyone. The dominant news image of such a centre in my mind is of a big sports centre with scores of walk-in vaccination points. If there has been footage of people being vaccinated in their cars I haven't seen it. In may be written down somewhere in the various sheets of A4 bilingual information churned out by the health authority, too much to read without losing attention, too many words for a small but precise piece of information. What about people with poor literacy skills, whose first language is neither English nor Welsh, as poor at processing information as I am, but for different reasons?

Anyway, disaster was avoided. We're somewhat less vulnerable to covid now, but are still obliged to keep the safety rules as strictly as ever, as there is a one in twenty chance of the vaccine not being effective and a one in three chance of being contagious if infected accidentally, especially over the next three weeks in which immunity gradually develops. For now the vaccine takes the edge of the inevitable anxiety which is the shared experience of so many at this time.

I cooked lunch and walked around the park down to Blackweir bridge. The vandalised barrier has been repaired, but how long will it stay like that? After supper we started to watch a classic comedy movie 'No Sex Please We're British' It's a fast moving 1960s farce translated from stage to film, but the humour in it is so dated it became broing to watch, so we gave up. Clare decided to read, I watched 'New Amsterdam' and 'Rebecka Martinson, one after the other, and that was it for a thought provoking day.

O Clavis David!

A cheering phone call this morning from Emma Biaggi the Euro-diocesan co-ordinator, asking me about my availability for the new year. Not forgotten! I explained the situation, and said that I could do emergency short spells if needs be in the next couple of months, before and in between medical appointments, but that I expect to be clear to undertake longer duty spells from the end of February.

Hearing from Emma prompted me to do something I've been meaning to for the past week at least, and that's writing to Bishop David Hamid about my locum availability in 2020. I was expecting to meet him at Fr Geoff's 50th anniversary celebration this coming weekend, but now won't be going, so I thought an email would be a good idea. I was delighted, by the end of the afternoon to receive a reply saying that there would be opportunities for long locums in Spain in coming months. It seems there's some movement of personnel in the wind. Nothing announced yet, so I wait with interest to see what happens.

I watched the final episode of the second series of 'The Team' tonight. It all finished predictably, but with one fatal flaw, as if a crucial linking scene had been edited out. A looted Syrian art treasure was the subject around which all eight episodes were driven, and the story was played out in a carefully integrated mix of Flemish, Danish, German, French, English and Arabic. The treasure was destined for a 'long loan', aka protective custody in a UK museum before it is smuggled out of the country by good guys with Syrian bad guys in murderous pursuit. 

In this episode the Syrian government weigh in with a request for the return of the treasure, but before this can officially happen, the treasure goes missing again in an ultimate showdown with the baddies, and then ends up in London, with all the heroes and heroines smiling and happy. Not even the slightest explanation of how this last piece of slight-of-hand happens, with political and diplomatic consequences, and the Interpol team right in the middle of it with questions to answer.

It wouldn't have taken a great deal to resolve this satisfactorily in dramatic terms. If it was ever in the story-line, it was edited out. Odd, and disappointing.

O Radix Jesse

I got to sleep late and got going too late to attend the Eucharist at St John's this morning, but I did get out to visit the wound clinic and collect some dressings to be sure I have what I need to cover the usual supply and demand chaos surrounding the holiday season.

While I was out, I realised that my wallet was missing from my jacket, and that gave me a panic, until I remembered that I'd last worn the fleece my sister gave me, and hadn't removed the wallet and put it back in its usual place. Silly small things like this can be quite upsetting. Coping over the past year has made me more of a creature of routine than ever before. I have to discipline myself to carry out everything, to make sure I don't get caught out by an unexpected change in the condition of my wound. Fatigue or concentrating on the wrong things at the wrong moment can sow minor chaos in my routinised life.

Losing keys, as I did on Monday, misplacing wallet, specs etc, are quite upsetting. Call it ageing, or forgetfulness, whatever, it's more to do with the long drawn out recovery from 'flu in my opinion. I get bursts of mental and even physical energy sometimes, and then phases of sluggishness. Not so much fatigue though, as I'm not desperate for an afternoon siesta as I was I few months back. There are some gains. I just wish I didn't have to wake another month for the pre-op surgical assessment, with no date fixed for op number four. It's a plague on my morale.

Another interesting episode of 'New Amsterdam' tonight, in which the head of A&E is taken to task for near-miss errors. The doctor in question is energetic and workaholic, and normally successful, but she's heading for burnout, and abusing prescribed medications which, it's revealed, she's taken since her teens for coping with ADHD diagnosis. She's in denial, but in a well portrayed encounter with the hospital's psychaiatrist, she acknowledges what's been driving her, and commits herself to change her behaviour. What I found interesting was how she attributed her usual work success to the fact of her ADHD condition. Not blaming it, but drawing on that source of energy to give more of herself that should reasonably be asked. She'd learned to channel that which other might regard as problematic about her. With so many youngsters these days being diagnosed with ADHD, how often I wonder do their teachers and medical specialists see the possibility to acknowledge and harness this energy for good, rather than try to contain and control it.
 

Project milestone reached

Apart from taking a funeral at St Catherine's at lunchtime yesterday, I spent most of the day writing, with an afternoon break for an interrupted five mile walk, to re-charge my brain. The exercise, both of transcribing and adding in explanatory detail is quite demanding, as in places my journal is  thin on detail, as it was written at the end of each day's activity while I was in Sarajevo.

When I'd had enough, I stopped watched the previous and current episodes of 'New Amsterdam' on More Four. It continues to sustain interest with its complex medical procedures, some difficult ethical decisions, and the evolving personal relationships between dramatis personae. 

Much the same was true of today, with another uninterrupted five mile walk and watching a couple of episodes of Series Two of 'The Team' On More Four to punctuate the day. By late afternoon I finished the transcription job, and felt a great deal of relief. It's not finished. There are vital corrections, and probably additions as well, as I'm finding memories of the time surfacing, which didn't get noticed and noted then even though they were and still are important aspects of the story to be told.

'The Team' is most enjoyable. It's a crimmie about an international group of detectives working on the same frontier crossing case. The cast is different from Series One. Team members are from Belgium, Denmark and Germany. It's about a mass murder in Jutland with Islamist terrorism, antiquities theft and people trafficking all in the mixture. What I appreciate is the way different languages are brought in - Danish, Flemish, German, English, Arabic and French.

It's well subtitled and not confusing, but it lends a special quality to the drama. The detectives often use suitably accented English between them and sometimes with subjects being interrogated. Arabic conversations between people caught up in the crisis also occur, but the speakers use either English or French to relate to the police, since they are Syrian refugees or settlers. Both ex-colonial languages are still used in Syria. It's very well done.

Thankfully, no sermon to write this evening, as I have no assignments for tomorrow. I'm quite glad of a respite, I've done a lot of extra jobs this past year with little time off. Our Oxwich Bay holiday told me that I'm in need of refreshment. If only I could take a few quiet weeks seaside retreat in Malaga. It's impossible to plan anything until I hear about my next surgical appointment. I don't know when that will be. It could be several months before I get treated. This is really beginning to bother me. I increasingly feel like a hostage awaiting release pending negotiations out of their control.

A time for closure

Yesterday, I celebrated the Eucharist at St Catherine's, and afterwards brought home the lovely banner made for me by the Sunday school children last weekend. Evenings this week, when there's nothing to watch on telly, I'm watching a French flic drama series on More Four called 'Detective Cain'. It's unusual in featuring a cop in wheelchair. I was immediately reminded of 'Detective Ironside', a black and white TV series about an American detective in a wheelchair after being paralysed in a shooting. That was back in 1967. There was an American remake in 2013, this time with a black wheelchair user, but I've only just learned about that. Cain works in the Marseilles. He's athletic and quick witted and much of the dialogue is funny. He takes risks, works intuitively and gets results. It's lighter and somewhat more entertaining than other French flic movies I've seen, although the themes are much the same, and just as dark, as in other contemporary crime dramas. Well, it makes a change I guess. 

Today, I celebrated the Eucharist again at St John's, and then after lunch, went into town, to the CBS office, now in the process winding up affairs before closing the business. My task was to sign off the annual financial statement for Cardiff Crime Limited, and formal notification of its winding up for Companies' House. The same procedure will follow for Cardiff Business Safe Limited, almost exactly ten years since it was established by Ashley. I'm sad it came to this conclusion, when the organisation we set up had so much potential, and was innovative in what it achieved. All that has been squandered by our inability to summon enough interest and support for it to run really well, not to mention toxic suspicion and resentment on the part of prominent entrepreneurs and local government officers of the 'not invented here' brigade. You can indeed look a gift horse in the mouth, it seems. 

For me, the past decade was a significant learning experience about the 'back of house' dimension to our shiny new city centre, and about what it does and doesn't take to run an innovative business. It was such a change from my world of work over the past half century, built as it is, around confidence in people's basic honesty, trust and willingness to serve others. Business enterprise also relies on confidence, but laced with competitiveness, ambition, greed, distrust, maintaining appearances, even deceit. Remaining uncompromisingly honest and honourable is a demanding task. I have a much deeper understanding of the world of work after this experience, than when working full time.