Op date assigned

I was just about to settle down to say morning prayer in honour of St Mark the Evangelist this morning when I received a 'phone call from the hospital. The anaesthetist had already read Saturday's pre-op report and added me to the day surgery schedule for May 28th. Now at last we can plan a week's holiday because we know where we stand. A cottage by the sea, early June in West Wales is what we're hoping to book. 

Another glorious sunny day today, with curried lentils, rice and veg for lunch in the garden. Then I walked into he city centre to take photos on this much awaited day when it became permissible to eat and drink at tables outdoors once more. i can't say that every open establishment was crowded with people queuing for a table, but it was fairly busy, you could say as busy as you might expect on an ordinary Monday. It's nice to have photos that contrast with those take when the centre was deserted for so long due to lock-down.

It's tragic to see the pandemic raging out of control in India, people dying in the streets waiting for treatment at overwhelmed hospitals lacking in oxygen to keep sick people alive. Just as covid deaths are reducing to single figues per day here, they are reaching a couple of thousand a day in India, with a third of a million new infections as day. The country caught unprepared for this huge surge in numbers, and Narendra Modhi's government has a lot to answer for.

I spent the evening watching episodes of NCIS that I haven't seen before from the more recent series. Then there was a full moon to gaze at, brushed lightly with high cirrus cloud. I'm not expecting great things from the photos I took, but it was lovely to look at above the roof tops. It made me remember the three full moons I saw in a crystal a clear pollution free sky last year in the countryside in locked down Ibiza.

Re-opening horizons

Thank goodness, no wind today, but still unseasonably cold. My daily Morning Prayer video upload went without hitch and on time. There were eleven of us for the Eucharist at Saint Catherine's. It was celebrated by Archbishop Rowan, who now lives in the parish in retirement. It may be the first time he's done this since he and his wife Jane arrived last summer. I was charged with locking up afterwards, as Clive who normally opens and shuts was leaving immediately after the service for a funeral in the Cathedral. 

I collected this week's organic veg bag before sharing in cooking lunch. I went to bed too late last night and dozed off for an hour afterwards. Then Ashley rang, and I went out to meet him for a chat while he waited an hour for his second jab appointment. We had to walk around the streets, as no place is open where one can sit and have a drink. There will be outdoor places soon, but in such cold weather it's just too cold, even to sit on a park bench with a take-away drink.

It's good to note that covid hospital cases are still diminishing, likewise the general infection rate. As a result it means that next week's planned reopening of shops can go ahead, and likewise cross border travel between Wales and England. I was pleased to learn this afternoon that discussion about reopening Saint John's for worship is now taking place. It's stayed closed longer than the other two as it's been more of a challenge to meet the covid risk assessment scrutiny for places of worship, requiring a team of people to prepare and clean up and welcomers who will check in worshippers and take their contact details for track and trace purposes. 

The average age of the regulars and their aversion to risk taking may have something to do with this, but now that all who can be safely vaccinated in the higher age range has had at least their first jab, confidence is returning. Reopening is complicated by the use made of St John's for live streaming a Sunday Eucharist. There's no reason why regular services with a congregation shouldn't be live streamed, with a little extra equipment and someone willing to operate it as part of their devotions at church, but this requires thinking through if it's to be sustainable.

For some on-line worship has been invaluable in the crisis of church closure, for others unable to attend church because they are housebound it's been a new and unexpected blessing. And, it seems there are even more others who aren't church attenders, but they have come across services on line and started watching and joining on-line discussions and forums. How this will bear fruit once people aren't subjected to social restrictions and have more choices about what to do with their time, remains to be seen. I believe that in the long term, having an on-line service for the housebound is worthwhile doing long term. The question is whether this should be done by every parish all the time, or should grouped parishes in the new Ministry Areas agree a rotation of on-line services from different churches. Maybe a Ministry Area could invest in high quality kit and train teams of people willing to make local broadcast worship their contribution to the life and outreach of the church. Now we've begun to see what works and what's valuable to people, a fresh exploration of this issue will be possible.

Maternal fiesta anticipated

Yesterday evening, after the central heating came on, we noticed that the stairs were unusually cold and with a draft of fresh air. We investigated and found that the south facing attic Velux window was wide open, with rain blowing in and one end of the bedroom carpet soaked through. The night before, the wind that buffeted the street could well have dislodged the catch of the window if it wasn't firmly closed as it should have been. 

So, the rain could have been coming in for forty eight hours, although I doubt this was actually the case, as we'd have felt the cold draft of air two days running. In fact we'd noticed the wind changed when we were outdoors. In the new direction, rain was driven directly into the room. What a mess! We wonder if there was enough rain to soak through into the bedroom ceiling below. Time will tell. 

Fortunately, we had a small electric radiator to help dry out the carpet, but now we have a blower heater as well, courtesy of Wales and West Utilities. We were given this to use last week when our gas supply was off all day and we didn't have to return it, as their covid safety protocols forbid this. Just imagine, if there are a dozen houses with gas supplies to change, that number of heaters is required to give away, adding how much? Another five hundred pounds to the cost of completing the job.

A good night's sleep, lie-in and pancake breakfast. Just after we'd finished, when Clare was in the garden hanging towels to dry, the doorbell unexpectedly rang. I was out of reach in the bathroom, and Clare had to run through the house to intercept the caller. It turned out to be a beautiful bright big bunch of flowers from the kids for 'Mothers Day' as they insist on calling it, despite having been raised to call tomorrow Mothering Sunday. How lovely of them to do this!

We went for a walk up to Llandaff weir and back in cold wind blowing clouds in, but bright sunshine nevertheless. Passing by the Cathedral, I think I got my first glimpse of the resident peregrine falcon taking off from the tower - not exactly a close view, hovering thirty metres overhead.

On my afternoon walk down to Blackweir, the playing fields were surprisingly empty and there weren't half as many people out walking as usual on a weekend. Then I remembered that Wales is playing Italy in the Six Nations Rugby Championship this afternoon. All normal activity is suspended when Wales is playing, whether they are in the Principality Stadium in the city centre or away. There may be few or no Welsh spectators present in Rome, so the digital pilgrimage has to make do instead. The score turned out to be 48-7 in favour of Wales. 

I've observed groups of anything up to a dozen youngsters together kicking a ball around or exercising together, and on one occasion, two full teams of youngsters playing rugby. Was this a permitted school practice game I wonder?

Today, the Welsh lock-down restrictions start to ease. Now it's possible for two people from a household to meet with two from another in a garden as well as away from home. We don't have to stay home apart from food shopping, medical visits or daily exercise, we can now travel up to five miles from home. On Monday we'll be able to get a haircut as well. I sure do need a haircut!

More travel journal transcription this afternoon. I've reached Orthodox Easter 1998 now. Clare took long phone calls from her girls, while cooking hot cross buns (without crosses on) glazed with orsnge blossom honey. We lost track of time andwere an hour and a half later than usual eating supper, due to early hot bun testing! Nothing much on telly, but it doesn't much matter when you have lots of other things to do. I think even boredom could be an interesting change in such circumstances.

Census impending and lockdown easing notified

I woke up early and uploaded today's reflection before 'Thought for the Day' on the radio, then dozed off again for another hour. A beautiful, if chilly sunny day, perfect for walking, so after our Saturday lie-in and pancakes, we crossed over to Bute Park via Blackweir Bridge, and returned via the Millennium Bridge, enjoying the woodland area for the first time in a year, hearing a woodpecker, seeing an elusive wren and hearing several of them, in addition to robins and tits. I walked the long way round the length of Bute Park half a dozen times in the past year of bridge closure, but avoided the woodland trail because of the mud. After a few days without rain, well trodden paths are firm underfoot, no longer treacherously slippery, a pleasure to walk on again. 

It's good to hear that infection rates continue to decrease, apart from in a few hot spots. The sixth person to be infected with the Brazilian variant of coronavirus has been traced after five days of post-test tracing, made necessary because an incomplete track 'n trace form was accepted. Mercifully the person in question was conscientiously self-isolating and their contacts were identifiable, so nightmare scenario avoided. 

Our First Minister, Mark Drakeford is back in self-quarantine for ten days because he'd been in contact with an infected WAG official - apparently there's been a cluster of people with covid in their workplace, which says something about the fitness for purpose of government offices they inhabit.  Can they / do they really open the windows I wonder? Anyway Mark, who I believe has had the job, is setting a good example by sojourning in his garden shed again.

Our National Census letter arrived in today's post. It's an invitation to take the census questionnaire on-line, with an unique, house specific access code provided. You can request a paper version by 'phone, but are urged to save the government money by going digital. Refusal to fill one in carries a thousand pound fine. A measures to ensure that homeless people are included in the census are based around the range of social service centres and (presumably) mobile outreach teams which provide for them. It's important that the Office of National Statistics has as full and detailed picture as possible of people with no place to call their own.  

We've been wondering if an Easter family gathering will be possible, for an outdoor picnic if nothing else, somewhere between Cardiff and Kenilworth. Monmouth or Ross possibly, if we're allowed to travel that far by then. My birthday is on Low Sunday this year. We'll just have to see if the progress made in curbing infections is sustained. It's impossible to know, however much today's statistics may encourage, we have no idea what tomorrow's or next month's figures will be like.

We watched an interesting archaeology programme this evening about uncovering traces of Lenton Priory in Nottingham, which was destroyed after the dissolution of the monasteries in the 1530 - its monks were executed for treason, and its lands redistributed. The Priory area has long been covered by houses, so the excavations took place in residents' gardens. The modern ground level is two metres above the fragments of the buildings which were identified from an assortment of pottery, bones, a fragment of lead from a stained glass window, cobblestones from a pavement which ran along an external Priory wall. The site of a Lady Chapel extending beyond the sanctuary, also the site of cloister were also identified. On the basis of seemingly slender evidence, an educated guess can be made of what the place looked like, based on knowledge of 12th century Cluniac Benedictine monastic architecture. 

This was followed by an hour of classic laugh out loud comedy from Irish comedian Dave Allen, fondly remembered from fifty years ago. He often poked fun at Christianity, describing himself as a practicing atheist, and there was often a grain of truth in his irreverent mockery. This reminded me of our dear friend David Barker, Owain's godfather, who died thirty five years ago. He'd tell Dave Allen jokes, and would imitate Ronnie Corbett superbly. He was a lovely guy. We still miss him.

On tonight's news feed, intimations that if progress in suppressing covid contagion continues, hairdressers and some non-essential shops will re-open on March 15th. That's great news. I so much need a haircut!

The emptiness of Sophia Gardens

I had a very lazy morning, falling asleep after saying morning prayer again, nine hours altogether! But it seems to do me good. It's not not to be under pressure, and have nothing to worry about, but rather let the natural rhythm of my physical need for rest and exercise take priority.

Yesterday, the daytime temperature was around nine degrees. It went down to zero overnight, what you'd expect consistently for this time of year. Warm damp air from the west meeting much colder air from the East and mixing in our corner of the continent. Sara, near coastal Gothenburg in Sweden sent me photos of their garden with twenty centimetres of snow, and Roy in Madrid has sent photos of Spain's capital city with thirty centimeters of snow. It's 667m above sea level there, about the same as the Black Mountains, often the furthest south winter snow settles in Wales nowadays. We both miss walking in the snow, and the lovely silence it brings. We have to be grateful for frost anyway, as it plays a part in balancing populations of insects that's vital to our ecosystem.

My afternoon walk took me to around Pontcanna Fields down to Sophia Gardens and back. The cricket stadium and National Sports Centre are closed, and the coach station deserted, as no National Express coach services are operating around the country now. Just a few joggers and dog walkers are about. The main road is fairly busy, and some local buses run, but are virtually empty. It's so strange, other worldly. There was a solitary merganser duck perched on small rock in the river, in the same position as I've seen the creature several times lately. There's a few flat stones nearer the shore where in previous years a family of mergansers has been raised before moving downstream. Is this one waiting for a breeding partner to turn up? I guess they must make a nest there on the river bank, although it won't be so congenial this year with so much of the riverbank undergrowth cut down and not yet started to grow back. I hope that poor patient duck isn't waiting in vain.

The emptiness of Sophia Gardens, looking so smart since the recent upgrading of paths and parking places, reminded me of the first few days of lock-down in Ibiza when I walked to the empty beach resorts and found everything closed with very few people out and about. March is the season when many holiday places are closed to guests or undergoing maintenance, but there are still apartments occupied by people who either work locally or stay off-season because they enjoy it when it's quieter, except that Spain's lock-down obliged people to return to or remain in their primary place of residence, so travel by land and sea without a stated legitimate purpose was impossible. Stronger enforcement measures didn't stop the virus from spreading, however, in poor deprived working class communities. It didn't stop people from socializing and spreading the virus, however heavily punished were those caught offending.

After my walk, I worked on preparing next Tuesday's funeral service, and then recorded tomorrow's Morning Prayer in the attic. After supper an episode of 'Spiral' on catch-up and 'Rebecka Martinson' live on More Four. Another routine sort of week under lock-down grateful to be alive, safe, free to go out and enjoy nature in the heart of the city, and not alone. Even so, I feel a little restless sometimes, and miss being able to go somewhere different for a change.

Distribution Authorised

Another successful video upload on time this morning, and after breakfast, a walk to St Catherine's to celebrate the Eucharist with nine others. It's the first time I've celebrated since my Golden Jubilee, and any nervousness I might have felt beforehand was soon dispelled once I got going.

First thing this morning, the formal announcement was made of regulatory approval for Pfizer/BioNtech's covid-19 vaccine, followed by a report being made to Parliament, setting out the priority list of categories for receiving it. It seems we're in the third category down the list which probably means a wait until early in the new year.  Medics, care workers and clinically at risk people must come first. 

The logistics of vaccine delivery from factory to hospital and GP surgery is exceedingly complex, but the growth of on-line shopping due to the pandemic has brought an expansion of delivery service capacity of every kind, and with this expertise to rise to the challenge. In the meanwhile, as the Prime Minister is keen to insist,  everyone has to continue to be very careful,  and stick with the restrictions imposed as infection numbers are still worryingly high although the growth rate is slowing. 

After lunch and a brief snooze, I collected the weekly veg bag from the drop off point, and then went for a walk down to the weir and back. It was good to see a football match being played, but just one. There may have been others earlier I guess. There are often several going on at the same time out in Pontcanna Fields on a Wednesday.

Most of England is going to be subjected to new tiered restrictions from this weekend, which are going to hit pubs and bars very heavily, and this is causing wide spread anxious complaint, given that measures are tough on so many densely populated urban communities. It's the price the government thinks has to be paid for a few days of family Christmas festivities. Curbing pub drinking hours so drastically will either see team and office Christmas parties cancelled or driven into unregulated indoor social areas, which are not so easy to police for compliance about group meetings. It'll happen in Wales too. Socialising is a desperate need for so many who live alone and have been without direct social contact for half a year. How will they react? Will this plan succeed without people quietly defying the impositions or not? And if they do will non-compliance add to infections or not? Only time can tell.

Darker days ahead

Pancakes for Saturday breakfast seem to come around quicker than ever, weeks slip by at a pace when everyday life routines are familiarly the same. It rained until mid afternoon, keeping us indoors until we donned our wet weather gear and walked around the park in the drizzle. Then it stopped. After a visit to the Co-op to buy phone top-ups for both of us, Clare returned home, but I carried on walking further to maintain my daily mileage. We noticed how much less traffic was on the road for a Saturday, far fewer people going into town to shop with many non-essential stores being closed. 

First Minister Mark Drakeford seems to have committed a rare error of judgement by insisting that the supermarkets shouldn't sell non-essential items during the lock-down period, as so many stores selling clothes and non-essential utilities were obliged to close. All on the grounds of chwarae deg, fair play, not giving the supermarkets an advantage over other retailers. One criticism made is that the ban hands business over to on-line retailers, unfair in a different way. It seems to have caused an outcry from the public, people complaining it stops them from acquiring items other than food and toiletries they need to help them live as normal a life as possible under lock-down. By this evening it seems the First Minister's office is already reviewing the ban.

It was closing time as I reached the gates of Thomson's Park, then I heard a loud whistle being blown by the park-keeper, announcing gate closure, so I walked on to Victoria Park, did a circuit of the periphery and headed back. The sun wasn't yet on the horizon but with low cloud it was already dusk an hour before sunset. The clocks go back tonight. Sunset tomorrow will be at five. I don't look forward to this, especially as overcast weather is going to prevail for much of the lock-down and my self-quarantine.

We watched a lovely programme about the history of Venice by Francisco de Mosto, architect and historian, himself a Venetian, giving a clear account of the impact on the city's fabric and community life of environmental damage due to 20th century regional industrialisation, climate change and mass tourism. The poor quality of life there is driving younger people, the mobile enough to be able move away to live and work, making it into a city with the highest average age per capita in Italy, where one in five people are pensioners. 

Tony Robinson's Scandianvian train journey programme which followed seemed lacking in content and interest. Then I noticed a Danish crime drama simply called DNA was on straight afterwards, and indulged further. It's developing an interesting plot, and has dialogue so far in Danish, English and Polish, the latter being a reminder of how close countries of Eastern Europe are to Denmark, now that all are covered by the EU Schengen agreement. We can't travel anywhere for the time being. It's nice to see a little of what places abroad look like on our TV screens.