Drama on screen and on court

Clare went to her study group after breakfast and I did the first of two shopping trips of the day, to refill a couple of bottles with laundry and cleaning fluids, which are available locally. The specialist shop in the Corp turned out to be closed, and not reopening until early next year. No idea why. Thankfully Beanfreaks also offers refills, so mission accomplished. I improvised a pasta sauce with aubergines, carrots, onions, mushrooms and pinto beans, as I found a can of them tucked away in the cupboard.

After lunch on impulse, I read a chapter of 'Invierno en Madrid', instead of reading in bed and nodding off. I'm nearly at the end now, and enjoying the climax of the story. It's taken more than a year to get through this six hundred page novel, but I have learned a lot from doing so. Then I walked in the park for an hour before dealing with emails and preparing supper, while Clare was out at meditation group.

I watched the last in Iolo Williams's series of wildlife programmes on Anglesey on catch-up while waiting for the last episode of 'Sherwood' to be broadcast live. It was superb, powerful in the way it focussed not on the ultimate arrest of the murderer, but on the community meeting which followed, in which the shared memory of divisions and wounds generated during the 1980's miners' strike were aired. A five minute long scene in the same room, with minimal changes in camera shots. You could have been looking at a film of a play on stage. Definitely the best piece of British crime drama I've seen in recent years. There was a lot in it that echoed the impact on community life of the loss of the pits in South Wales, persisting still today.

With nothing better to do just before and after this I dipped into the  tennis match between Harmony Tan and Serena Williams at Wimbledon with some exciting tennis played between a rising star and a veteran champion who eventually lost in what was only a first round match, Well, eventually the older must make way for the younger, no matter how we feel about that.

Good News amidst the grief

I didn't get up this morning until gone nine, after a broken night's sleep, so I had a slow start to the day. Clare was at her study group in Penarth this morning. She left me with a shopping list for the weekly visit to the Co-op for groceries so I did this before cooking lunch. 

While waiting for her to return, I phoned the person acting as next of kin for arrangements to make for next Friday's funeral at St Luke's. I learned that the woman who died had been, in effect, abandoned by her family to life in the old Ely Hospital, where people with a range of long term physical and mental disabilities were looked after before 'care in the community' dispersed them to sheltered accommodation units with carers. 

The lady I was speaking to had been a volunteer at Ely hospital before it closed and formed a close bond with the deceased, so much so that she took her into her own family and fostered her, an experience which changed the course of both lives. From incarceration in hospital subdued by drugs, to a place of her own and semi-independent living over the course of some, nourished by a sense of belonging to a family that had chosen to have her as one of their own. 

This experience led to her family fostering others during the years, and for her, a new career in counselling and disability advocacy. As a member of City Church, the Pentecostal congregation next to the old Westgate pub in town, she wants the funeral to be held close to where the deceased lived, and said she wants it to be a positive occasion of witness to neighbours and friends she made in the vicinity. A resurrection story, the way I heard it. She spoke with the warmth and affection of someone who really understands and lives the Gospel. I look forward to this service, aware that a couple of musicians from City Church want to contribute, and the lady herself wants to give the eulogy.

I went for a walk around Llandaff Fields mid-afternoon, returned for tea, uploaded photos taken in the past few days, prepared supper and ate alone, listening to the Archers, as Clare had gone to a meditation group. Then I went for another walk in Thompson's Park, and when I got back, Clare was eating supper, listening to the Archers on catch-up.

My sister June rang to tell me to watch a Sky Arts documentary about 2019 Portrait Artist of the year Duncan Shoosmith painting Sir Tom Jones for the National Museum of Wales portrait gallery. It's a very fine painting, though I've yet to see it in situ - somehow I missed it on my visit last month, I must go in there again and find out exactly where the painting is currently.

Then the second episode of 'Sherwood', with more surprises, and realistic authentic pit village dialogue from a community divided by its response the the miners' strike. It's getting excellent reviews in the press, well deserved.

Money - received and requested

Another Monday with sunshine poking through the clouds. It's starting to get warmer by night as well as day now. After breakfast, vacuuming the carpet, then tidying away a neglected pile of financial papers in my study. This was prompted by puzzlement over a deposit into my expenses account of three hundred and eighty pounds, labelled 'pension payment', not where it originated. I wonder if this is the government's promised subsidy of the soaring cost of energy? The only other government payment into this account is the Winter Fuel allowance. Ah well, gratefully received.

I had an email from Clare at St Catherine's asking for help in completing a request for information needed to fill in an application form for a grant from the Pantyfedwyn Trust to help pay for the repainting of the church chancel and south aisle, which is already under way. It turns out there's a deadline for handing it in, and as Mother Francis is on leave he asked me. It's a dozen years since I last did anything of this nature, involving a brief profile of the church and its mission, but it's  one of those bureaucratic things you don't forget how to do. I quite enjoyed the little challenge.

By the time I'd finished this, it was one o'clock and Clare had just arrived from her first ever Pilates class. I had to prepare a cooked lunch rather quicker than usual, but half an hour later we sat down and ate a dish of mackerel fillets and three veg. Then I walked for a couple of hours, up and down the river, and ended with a visit to Tesco's for a bottle of their quite acceptable bargain Chilean Pinot Noir. It's the first time that I've fancied a drink of wine since the cold started, so it seems like I'm now through the worst of it. But was it a cold? Strangely, Clare hasn't caught it from me. There are reports of this year's pollen conditions being unusually detrimental to anyone who is affected. At the outset I wondered if my symptoms were due to pollen rather than a cold. My strong reaction led me to think it was a cold. Now I'm not so sure.

After supper, I watched the second of the Iolo Williams nature programmes about  Anglesey wildlife on iPlayer, and then 'Springwatch' live. Most amazing was the sight of a reclusive Bittern, a waterfowl which hides in reed beds, heard but rarely seen. It was filmed on the wing with its unusual fluid graceful wing movements. What a treat! Finally, this week's new crimmie 'Sherwood', set in a Nottinghamshire ex-pit village over thirty years after a miners strike which divided workers and residents of some villages in a way which many involved still haven't forgotten and moved on from. It's an unusual setting for a murder mystery - superbly acted, even if on times subtitles would be useful, as the accents seem quite authentic.

Before switching off for the night, I visited the NHS website and submitted a digital application for both Clare and myself for the new GHIC card which post-Brexit replaces the EHIC card giving you access to basic medical treatement in EU countries. I was pleased to see how simple and straightforward the process is, as with the new generation of .gov websites. The cards are free, but money still needs spending on full travel and health insurance cover for my stint of locum duty and subsequent holidays abroad we decide we can afford. That's a chore for another day.