Michaelmass Memories

The sound of torrential rain during the night woke me from sleep. I was amazed at how long it went on for. Thunder and lightening was also moving around the area between the Sierra de Mijas and the sea, so I got up and unplugged all the electrical equipment I could find, for peace of mind, before trying to get back to sleep. It has cleared up, and the roads were starting to dry out by the time I was on my way to the first Eucharist of the day in Calahonda. My access road to the N340 was however blocked by a Guardia Civil car. Sections of the highway nearby were still being cleared of debris and mud. Mostly the roads through the town were clear, but road crews were still sweeping away mud with water hoses at the junction where I made a second attempt to access the N340, but I was able to pass by and make my way to the church of San Miguel in good time.

As today is Michaelmass Eve, the church's statue of their patron saint was mounted on a flower decked trona beside the main altar, ready for a fiesta procession and parish picnic later in the day. It reminded me of Michaelmass ten years ago when Anto and I did a flamenco guitar course in Granada. We stayed in the Albaicin barrio, where their parish church patron saint was also San Miguel. The church had an image of the Archangel a good two metres tall. It was taken on procession from the bottom to the top of the barrio by a cofradia team of two dozen white shirted men. San Miguel's Calahonda image could be easily carried by one person, but its trona was for four persons to carry, perhaps even children.

Despite the stormy night, very few regulars were missing, and there was a congregation of thirty. As I neared the end of my sermon, an elderly lady in the congregation fainted and fell off her seat, bringing proceedings to a halt while first aid was ministered. When it was clear that her condition was not life threatening we continued with prayers of intercession, and I laid hands on her while the Peace was being exchanged. One person took her home and another drove her car home for her. People are very good here at gently supporting each other, and no doubt somebody will make sure she gets to the doctor for a check up very soon.

Attendance at Los Boliches was not as big as I'd expected. The influx of autumnal residents in any number has yet to pick up. I wonder if this has anything to do with the fact that the British Isles has been enjoying one of the driest and warmest Septembers on record?

Today is Clare's birthday, and she texted me to say that she'd opened her iPad present and was setting it up for first use. In the evening we spoke of Skype, but she admitted she was still talking to me on Kath's iPad, because she'd not yet managed to install the Skype app from Apple store, as it was demanding she supplied it with credit card details, even to download free apps, and she didn't have hers to hand when she set out to do it. 

What does Apple do with this information, which remains unused if you don't ever download any non-free apps? Android's Google Play store doesn't make that demand, and if it did, I'd stop using it. These operating systems take too much information from us for no reason that is really so beneficial to us. Apple products are great, well designed, functional, as well as expensive, and very determined to make it easier for the user to spend more, such that it's possible to do so unwittingly if you don't understand fully the processes you're engaging with. Not happy with that at all. I'll pass on the Apple temptation.

   

Remembrance Sunday

I drove west on the N340 in good time to find my way to Calahonda for the first Remembrance Sunday Eucharist. It's a drive of about fifteen kilometres from where I'm staying, another five from Peter and Linda's nearest junction, so I was venturing into unfamiliar territory, looking out for the correct turning. It wasn't too hard to spot, but on a first visit with a time deadline I was nervous about over-running the turning, until I saw it and made it. 

The parish church of San Miguel is set just above the highway junction in the middle of a big roundabout. It's an attractive modern building with rooms behind where a Sunday school can meet.

I noted from the noticeboard that an English speaking evangelical church meets here in the afternoon, so the local Catholic community is ecumenically generous. There were thirty adults and five children present, and some enthusiastic singing from a choir of half a dozen. When I arrived before the service, the choir was rehearsing Christmas music for the first time this autumn.

As the service included the Act of Remembrance and lengthy notices, it went on longer than usual, so I was unable to stop for a coffee and chat before taking the fifteen minute drive back to Los Boliches for the eleven thirty Eucharist. Thankfully I found a convenient parking place near St Andrew's, and that left me plenty of time to prepare.

This morning during both observances of the Two Minutes Silence, my mind was back at St John's Cardiff, remembering Bill John reciting the allocution - "They shall not grow old ...", no longer with the voice of the stern History teacher of my adolescence, but the frailer gentler voice that comes with great age, charged with recollection and insight from the hidden days of his youth - sixty-odd years after his return from Burma. As a schoolboy, I don't ever recall any of our masters speaking of their war-time service. In fact, I only learned of Bill's participation in the Burma campaign when I went to St John's.

We will remember them.