Walk in the dark

Another quiet uneventful morning, and with nothing better to do I stewed some vegetables with butter beans and a Welsh made chorizo sausage, ready for supper. Then when Clare returned from her study group, she cooked a deliciously tasty soup, using a delicata squash from last week's organic veg box, plus one red onion. The squash resembles a small marrow but it has a special flavour of its own. This was the first time we'd come across it, and hopefully, not the last. 

Mid-afternoon, I walked into town just for exercise, in defiance of the chilly weather that makes me want to hibernate. The sun was low in the sky and all the Christmas lights were already on, giving me an opportunity to take a photo tour of the city centre to record them. It'll be interesting to compare these with previous batches of photos taken in the streets at this time of year, to see how things have changed.

I walked back along the Taff Trail, on the west bank, as the Bute Park side shuts before sunset. As it's unlit this was less than easy with a steady flow of bicycling commuters in both directions leaving me feeling a little vulnerable in the dark. Thankfully most cyclists these days go for bright LED lights, on their helmets or on handlebars, making it easier to spot pedestrians, though not all. I wasn't forced off the path at any stage, but obliged to walk right on the edge, just in case. I could have walked on well lit pavements by two different routes, but slow moving rush hour road traffic pollution makes for another kind of hazard to be avoided. Traffic congestion seems to have got much worse over the past couple of years. Much as I like giving where we do in Pontcanna, I honestly wish we lived a little way out in the country, but we're unlikely to move again, now we're so settled.

     

Wednesday pastoralia

Midweek Mass at St German's again this morning, and a Spanish conversation with the most recent member of the congregation to become a regular worshipper. Enrique from El Salvador is indeed an asylum seeker escaping from the criminal gangs that dominate his homeland. Exactly what the reason for him needing to escape from there I couldn't gather, as my Spanish is still limited, but I think it may be to do with extortion rackets. His wife is dead and pequeño Enrique, his only child is with him. What a story he has to tell. So much for me to learn and pass on to the congregation, so little time. At the Communion, I remembered to give him communion in Spanish - Cuerpo de Crist, Sangre de Crist. To me, there is no more important moment to reach out to someone in their mother tongue. It's a way of voicing the essentially hospitable nature of the Lord's Sacrament.

I learned that Angela, the church administrator had recently fallen and been admitted to hospital with a possible fracture. So far so good. No broken bones identified, but she's still in pain, and the reason for this has yet to be established. Hopefully, she'll be discharged fairly soon. She's not to sort of person to enjoy hospital attention or inactivity for long.

Our local Ignatian meditation group meets today over lunchtime at Ruth's new Vicarage in Tonyrefail. So, Clare and I together with Diana, went together by car, for an hour of prayer and an hour of eating and talking together with others. It's usually a small group, but rich in wisdom and insight nevertheless, and I'm always glad of an opportunity to participate, although on this occasion I was asked to lead, the second time this year. Given the time I spend abroad these days, times of spiritual fellowship of this kind take on an added significance on my journey. Another cause for gratitude in my life.

After our return, I went to Chapter Arts Centre to collect our weekly delivery of organic veg from the Riverside Market Garden, then called in on Fr Phelim on the way back, to return his church keys and catch up with him. Earlier today he asked if I'd cover a funeral on his day off the week after next, just as Fr Mark arrives home from holidays. Glad naturally to be able to help in this way while I'm here in the Benefice.

Unfortunately, Church in Wales parishes are not yet at the stage where they can offer traditionally expected ministries to a wider community without regular help from retired clerics. Others, like me are happy to be useful and fill in the gaps, but it would be far better if there were lay people trained in bereavement ministry, also taking and arranging Anglican funeral services, to support their parish priests and share the burden of pastoral care in the community.

Patio progress

I celebrated  Mass at St German's this morning with a Tredegarville School class in attendance. Then I visited the school's Early Years section kindergarten and reception classes, to be introduced to the children as a local priest, and provide an opportunity to ask questions about what a priest does. They are really a bit too young to be that curious about one of those unfamiliar people that drop into their classes to be introduced from time to time, but it's lovely to see them with their teachers in their own classroom. I was particularly impressed by the lovely way the teachers and children related to a child in the class who needed extra attention for some reason.

When I arrived home for lunch much progress had already been made in slab laying. All were laid and the boundaries of lawn and flower beds re-fashioned, in about six hours of work. Tomorrow the job will be finished with grouting between the slabs and re-placing the shed. After that, we wouldn't mind a few rain showers, as all the garden foliage is covered with a layer of white dust thrown out by the disc cutting machine used. Already it looks neat, and Clare is thinking about new garden furniture to complete the makeover.

Last week, Clare received a couple of kilos of green cherry tomatoes, being given away free to a good home by the Riverside Market Garden. She transformed them into eight jars of a tasty chutney, then asked if I could take a picture to illustrate the outcome for the market garden website. I did this on Saturday last, and today this was published on-line.

We learned this evening that Eddie is being to be moved from Papworth to Ipswich ICU, much closer to home and a lot easier for Ann to visit him, as it's only a tenthnof the distance she's been travelling this week. Progress sustained, so far, so good.

Shed woes

Last Friday we ordered a shed from B&Q. We were meant to have been called about a delivery date by Wednesday. Nothing doing. Clare rang the number provided only to find they had no record of the order we'd paid for in full being placed. We got on to the store, and I drove down there to be sure. Fortunately they had a record of the order that matched our purchase. Whether ours had never been sent, or simply got lost in the extremely creaky in-store IT network various store workers have complained about to us previously, we don't know. But now we have to wait until next Monday to chase up a delivery date. How very frustrating. At least it gives me extra days to perfect the leveling of the slab foundation on which I'll erect the shed when it arrives.

I noticed the film of 'The Da Vinci Code' was on TV, and I started to watch it but very quickly gave up, out of sheer annoyance, not only with the offensive and absurd plot presumptions, but also with the way so much of it is shot in semi darkness, making it quite hard to watch on TV in a lit room. The way it frames the Catholic Opus Dei organisation bears no resemblance to the socially enterprising wholesome outfit running a Boys' Club in the house on Wandsworth Common opposite to where my sister June lives, producing decent, well educated responsible young citizens with a Christian faith and commitment to serve others. The difference is so great that the film is exposed as no more than a crass sensationalist tale, neither enlightening nor entertaining. Glad I didn't pay to see it when it was breaking box office records.
 
In last night's veg box from Riverside Market Garden arrived a big bag of green tomatoes, perfect for turning into chutney. When I got back from the office this evening, the house was full of the aroma of spicy vinegar. To my senses, it's a whiff of autumn, every bit as much as woodsmoke.
      

Busy Sunday and a happy meeting

A very early start this morning, twenty five past seven to get to Holy Cross Cowbridge for eight o'clock Communion. Just before I reached the turning to descend Primrose Hill from the A48 into town I was stopped by Police motorcycle escort riders accompanying a very large wide slow moving vehicle which was climbing the by-pass road ahead of me. I was warned that it could be ten minutes delay, and began to worry it could make me late. 

I took a side road in the hope that it would take me on a back lane and avoid delay, but the un-metalled potholed road terminated in a walking track, and I had to return to the main road, fortunately, just as the giant vehicle was passing. A low loader lorry was carrying a huge silvery metal capsule, towering thirty feet above the road, and twenty five feet feet wide. I guess it was a reactor vessel destined for a chemical plant, possibly in Barry. I can't imagine what route it would take to avoid bridges. Anyway, I arrived with five minutes to spare and then proceeded to Llandough for nine fifteen and then to Ystradowen for eleven o'clock services. Last Sunday, former incumbent Stanley Mogford's death was announced. This week the deaths had to be announced of Llansannor Churchwarden and organist Margaret Edwards, and former St Hilary Churchwarden and deputy Lord Lieutenant John Curteis - the latter quite unexpected while at a meeting. Cowbridge benefice will certainly miss two such good and faithful servants.

It wasn't raining when I arrived at Ystradowen, so I left my mac in the car. By the time I came out at midday it was pouring down, so I had to run precariously down the slope of the church path to avoid a soaking. Today, the Riverside Market Garden, located in Coed Hills, just outside St Hilary, was holding an open day for supporters with lunch provided. Instead of shopping for veggies in town as usual, Clare found herself a lift and we met up there in one of the greenhouse poly-tunnels.

 The rain didn't stop until after we'd finished lunch in Coed Hills House. It's an amazing fertile and bio-diverse location, with a huge field given over to organic horticulture. It has developed remarkably well in the three years since the project was launched and there's more to come. Already forty families obtain their weekly veggy box order from there. We  returned with several bags of vegetables taken straight from the ground. Beetroot, fennel, broccoli, leeks, squashes among them.

We then went out to meet Sarah Rowland Jones, the Vicar designate of St John's city parish, at the invitation of Glenys, who is giving her hospitality during her flying visit from Cape Town where she's currently working as an advisor to the Archbishop. She has a strong background in international affairs from being a British diplomat before ordination, and activity in global Anglican and ecumenical affairs since then. Last week she was at a World Council of Churches meeting in Geneva. She's just the kind of person who can flourish at St John's and continue to participate on behalf of the Church in Wales and the Anglican Communion in international affairs. She has the kind of enthusiasm that will go down well with a congregation that will take an interest in her wider role. And that's not something you can say of every church in these uncertain times.

After supper and 'the Archers', we watched the second episode of 'Young Montalbano' from BBC iPlayer with laptop connected to the TV via the cheap HDMI cable I bought last weekend from Asda. It works a treat, and provides a low resource alternative to subscribing for digital TV recording services. We could afford it, but it's hardly value for money when you have so little spare time for entertainment on demand and such a satisfying life without it.