Tracking Rachel's return

My alarm clock woke me up at six twenty and got me out of bed. Rachel followed ten minutes later, and we were out of the house walking to the coach station in the dark by a quarter to seven. We got there at ten past, just as the airport coach was arriving to pick up passengers. We parted company and I headed home before the coach left, with the first signs of early light appearing on the eastern horizon and the waning moon behind a thin veil of cloud still high in the sky. It's now a twenty five minute walk to the coach station. That's five minutes longer than it took before I pulled upper quad muscles in both legs. At least they still work, but not as efficiently as they used to.

Rather than go back to bed, I sat in my arm chair, listened to 'Thought for the Day', then slept for another hour and had breakfast when Clare got up. 

I received an email from Fr Dean booking me for another five Sunday Masses at St Paul's Grangetown. Their new priest in charge should be in post by the end of March. I'm glad to be occupied in ministry on a Sunday, albeit not every Sunday. It's good to have occasions to be on the receiving end as well as giving.

I worked on next week's Reflection, recorded it before lunch and edited it later. After lunch, shopping for groceries while Clare went into town. Then a walk in the park. Cloudy today rather than misty and not as cold as yesterday, and I was home before sunset with my daily step quota completed, plus a little extra, despite such an early start to the day.

According to Flight Tracker 24, Rachel's return journey started on time, and took the westward route across South Wales while I was out walking. Needless to say I was thinking of her. Last weekend she and I were walking past the stables. I showed her where snowdrops were proliferating and a few clumps of daffodils were producing long shoots with buds on. She spotted one stem which had snapped near the root, picked it up, brought it home and put it in a glass of water. Three days later the rescued bud blossomed and flourished. Seeing it flowering this morning, knowing she'd arrived at Heathrow with a four hour wait for her flight, reminded me of her special gift for healing and nurturing new life. We miss her, being so far away from us.

Before supper I recorded and edited the complete audio for next week's Morning Prayer, then afterwards made the video slideshow and uploaded it to YouTube. The rest of the evening I spent watching a couple of episodes of 'Patience' with familiar crime stories from the 'Astrid' series. An advert for the return of another series of 'Astrid' starting next Friday popped up among other programme ads. Curious timing, as the first English rendering of half a dozen episodes is still running. Unless this is a repeat of series shown over a year ago, it'll be series four, another eight episodes. We'll see. 

A quick check on Flight Tracker 24 before bed showed Rachel's flight about to cross the Canadian-US border heading south west to Arizona, with just under three hours to go before touchdown at the end of a ten and a quarter hour flight. It's marvellous to be able to follow it on a live map on a phone. Somehow it makes her departure less of a wrench.

More music making

A taxi arrived at eight thirty this morning to take Rachel for an early hairdo appointment with Chris over in his Rumney salon. It was foggy, and too early for me to be awake enough to drive in commuter traffic. 

I went for a walk in the fog mid-morning and was delighted to see at least three families of pied wagtails in different locations around Llandaff Fields. They seem to like foraging for insects on tarmac'd surfaces, flying to and from the grass, whether for refuge or seeking food. It's good to see the population maintained over such an odd winter - so  much rain and wind, cold spells but never frosty for long. And now, a cold  damp day of fog.

Rachel returned from her appointment with Chris looking lovely after he'd worked his hairdressing magic on her. We started working on an arrangement of 'Happy Birthday' to record for my sister June's 90th this Saturday with Rachel on Grandpa's 'cello, me on guitar and all three of us singing together. Then Marc and Fran arrived for lunch, followed by a music making session. Marc tried out both my guitars and the violin made by Clare's grandfather. She's decided she wants to resume learning the fiddle as well as the flute and sought Marc's advice about getting started again. That was the reason for the lunch date. It was a lovely coincidence that Rachel was here with us. Marc was a session musician on the album Rachel recorded 25 years ago. Just for pleasure, they played together and recorded a video of a song she wrote some time ago.  Marc played Clare's violin and Rachel played my Tatay guitar. I just videoed them playing on Rachel's iPhone and now it's posted on her YouTube channel.

After Fran and Mark took their leave of us, we walked in the park for an hour, then Rachel checked in for tomorrow's flight and I printed her boarding pass. We recorded ourselves singing and playing 'Happy Birthday', adding a second 'cello track to give it a richer sound. It was an experiment and a useful learning experience with Audacity editing, worth the effort, even if it did take extra time. Rachel played Grandpa's 'cello fondly, duetting with Clare on flute while I was finishing the birthday MP3. She has an early bus in the morning, so it's early to bed for us again tonight. 

Friends reunited

Rachel received a message this morning from Emma, a school friend she hasn't seen in twenty five years. Emma has recently moved to Porth, so Rachel arranged to visit her at lunchtime, and took the 122 bus from outside the Halfway pub on Penhill Road, all the way there, and only returned at sunset.

I went to the Eucharist at St Catherine's - there were ten of us today. Another Rachel and her baby Seb were back in church this morning after a visit to New Zealand for a family celebration. It was interesting to see how Seb has developed physically in the month since he was last in church. I collected the week's veggie bag on my way home. Clare was out, so I had lunch on my own, then worked on a reflection for next week's Morning Prayer before going for a walk.

Having worked out when Rachel's return bus would arrive, I aimed to get to the bus stop to greet her on my return leg. Clare was there already sitting in the shelter waiting. But we waited and waited, and the bus was twenty five minutes late. Clare started to get cold and went home before me. The bus came and went without Rachel getting off, so I went home and started to worry. We couldn't contact her as her phone doesn't have a UK mobile SIM card in it. She arrived home before me, having decided to get off at the stop before the one where I was waiting!

After supper I spent the evening writing, helping Rachel book her return coach to Heathrow early Friday, and printing her ticket. We'll be sad to see her go.

Ystrad Mynach revisited

I got up at the same time as Owain this morning, saw him leave for work at half past eight and then had breakfast. Rachel and Clare went out shopping, and I started work on next week's Morning Prayer, which falls in Christian Unity week, so I had to think about adapting the texts for the day to reflect the occasion.

Rachel asked if I could take her to Ystrad Mynach, as she wanted to see the street where I was born and bred, so we drove there mid morning, and I told her stories about the family and life in a mining village as we went from place to place. We visited the site of Penallta colliery, as well as Glen View. In the fifty years since the family house was sold the street has undergone many changes. Most noticeable is the lack of chimney stacks that used to ventilate coal fires. Almost all have been taken down and it's surprising how different the houses took to the way I remember them - all double glazed, posh front doors, front gardens paved over, populated with pots. Since my last visit about five years ago, the new area hospital has been completed and is operational. This has led to a boost in the local economy. Many shops have been spruced up, empty shops are now filled with new businesses. There's more traffic in and around the town, and changes in street layout reflect this. Next time I visit, I'll go by train, take my time and walk around for a few hours rather than go by car.

In the news, the Israeli government and Hamas have announced that they are very close to agreeing the details of a cease-fire deal which includes exchange of hostages and Palestinian prisoners. The aim seems to be to get the process started before Trump's presidential inauguration, to forestall what could be a very disruptive intervention of an unknown nature on his part. A report from independent research into the Gaza death toll puts the figure of lives lost at closer to sixty thousand, a third more than the Gaza health ministry has consistently reported. Two thirds of the victims are believed to be women and children. Many people are missing presumed dead and still buried under the rubble of destroyed buildings. 

Somehow the remnant of Palestinian people will survive and rebuild. It's too early to say what damage has been done by Israel to its own reputation. Perhaps this won't become apparent until the Netanyahu government is swept from power democratically and subjected to judgement by law, both nationally and internationally. 

When we got back, I treated myself to beans on toast for lunch, then a long walk in the park afterwards. It was cloudy and bitterly cold. Again I fell short of completing my step quota for the day. 

In the evening I watched part two of this week's double episode of 'Silent Witness' which was unusually complex in that it had a story about a municipal political scandal over rehousing homeless people in an asbestos ridden tower block, linked to another story about girls in foster care being abused, resulting not in justice being done but an explosion of vengeful murders by an unlikely perpetrator. I was reminded of this year's Reith lectures by Dr Gwen Adshead about violent criminals. Then I read a chapter of my Spanish novel before making an effort to get to bed early.

Family reunion part two

Up at eight, housework after breakfast. Rachel slept late, and so did Owain after a busy weekend away, so it was after lunch by the time he took the train to come over and join us. While waiting for him to arrive after lunch, I went for a walk and got back a few minutes before he turned up. Unfortunately Kath had to work today, so we haven't had the pleasure of all three children being together with us at the same time. 

At least we have had time together with them, thanks to Rachel being with us. Owain is staying overnight and then going to work in his physical office base in Central Square. He works from home normally, and is only obliged to visit Cardiff every few weeks. He can come and stay overnight with us and avoid an early train trip to arrive by nine.

Owain and Rachel spent the evening catching up with each other and video chatting with Jas in Tempe. She's in the throes of deciding what to do if she takes a gap year after graduation this summer, so there are ideas and suggestions to consider, including the possibility of coming to Britain, working and travelling in Europe from here. While they were chatting I watched this week's episode of 'Silent Witness' and then it was bed time. 

Sunday morning stroll in Grangetown

I set the alarm for half past seven to be sure to wake up in good time, ready to leave for church at nine. My first assignment was at St Dyfrig & St Samson's covering for Fr Jeff, the retired priest living in the parish. When I arrived, he was already there getting ready for the service. The message that I wasn't needed had not been sent. Not that it mattered. We had a few minutes to re-connect before it was time for him to start. Jeff served in Malta and so we have the Diocese in Europe in common. He's waiting for knee surgery at the moment, so I can stand in for him at short notice when he gets called into hospital. 

Rather than return home for an hour, I drove down to St Paul's, parked the car and went for a walk around the neighbourhood. The sun was shining and the temperature had risen to about nine degrees. On my walk I identified where local primary schools are located, the Catholic and Baptist churches, the local park and leisure centre. I have driven through Grangetown many times, and walked along the Taff Trail which is the eastern boundary of the Parish, so it was interesting to gain a richer impression of an area with a century of working class artisan history behind it, but is now a collection of communities of diverse ethnicity and religious culture. 

In the area I walked through individuals and families were making their way towards St Patrick's Catholic church for the ten o'clock Mass. Several people smiled and said Good Morning as I passed, and the same was true in a street where people were simply heading for the local convenience store. Fewer people greet strangers in the streets of Canton or Pontcanna than down in Grangetown. Perhaps because more people are themselves strangers and unsure of themselves in this rapidly gentrifying and upwardly mobile part of the city.

In the distance I could hear a ring of bells being raised before being pealed to summon worshippers. I think it was coming from the tower of St Augustine's Penarth, on the headland the other side of Cardiff Bay. Pontcanna is much nearer Llandaff Cathedral, but the sound of its peal of bells isn't audible to those who live on the west side of the area,  as it's blocked by Penhill. You have to walk out to Llandaff Fields in line of sight to hear them ring. St Augustine's tower is 200 feet above the Bay and the flood plain Grangetown stands on.

At St Paul's there were over thirty of us for the Mass including half a dozen children. There weren't any technical hitches this week, except me forgetting to chat with the Sunday school kids after Communion and needing to be reminded of it, as there wasn't a prompt in the digital script I was following, but I fitted it in after the blessing and dismissal and before the final hymn. I'm finding some of the liturgical prayers hard to read aloud as they are derived from an English translation of the Latin rite which doesn't ring true to a native English speaker as their grammatical construction is different. The translation of the Mass into English post-Vatican Two was closer linguistically to its Anglican counterpart and flowed nicely when read aloud. A revision made over fifteen years ago was intended to clarify and correct the language of the prayers hasn't been universally welcomed by Catholics, Roman or Anglican. I think I need to rehearse them in future before using them in the liturgy.

Kath and Anto were out walking when I got back from church. Clare and Rachel were preparing Sunday lunch. We sat at table and chatted for a while after eating, then did a circuit of Thompsons Park before Kath and Anto returned to Kenilworth, and another week of intense preparations for their new show, being premiered in mid February. As we were sitting together, Rhiannon's flight touched down in Geneva where she and Tal her boyfriend are spending a few days after their Warwick Castle cosplay contract ended. She's applying for a University place to study Fashion Design, maybe in Birmingham, Manchester or London, where he has received provisional offers.

Rachel and I did another circuit of Llandaff Fields as the sun was setting. While we were out Clare made salmon soup for supper. We had laver bread to go with it - a delicious pleasure. Then I watched another episode of 'Patience' about an unexplained death in a museum. The mystery was lifted straight from an episode of Astrid - Murder in Paris. The actor who plays the autistic sleuth is herself neuro-diverse, so plays the part with real sensitivity and understanding. The series story lines are being widely criticised in the media for being so similar to 'Astrid', and Channel 4 has admitted it's an English version of the French original. Will it survive the first series run of six episodes? We'll see.

Making music again

It was gone nine when we woke up. After walking home under a starry sky last night,  an overcast day. We didn't get around to heating up the marmalade mixture last night, so this got started while I was laying out the breakfast table. Rachel came down to join us an hour later. She and Clare made a start on chopping up and de-pipping the second batch of oranges while we chatted. The first batch of marmalade went into five jars. The second batch, although ready, didn't get started today. I cooked lunch and Rachel concocted a special sauce to go with fish prawns and brown rice. 

Clare had an appointment at the University Optometrists to collect a new pair of spec's, and Rachel went with her. I went out separately and walked in the park. It was colder than I thought and I wasn't dressed warmly enough, and started to get chilled, so I returned home had a warm drink, changed my top coat, and went out again for a circuit of Thompsons Park, at dusk. I returned home when it got dark, short of my daily step quota, running out of energy. Being out late last night walking to and from the bus station was invigorating, but I didn't get enough sleep to recover fully, and that's probably why.

Rachel gave me a really stimulating foot massage. Right foot before supper, left food after. I wouldn't trust anyone but Rachel to work so hard on my feet. I suspect other practitioners would be nervous about going so deep, but she's really good.

After this, Clare got her flute out and Rachel got out Grandpa's 'cello and played it for the first time since it came back from being renovated, just before Christmas. It sounds beautiful in her hands. She and Clare played simple tunes together, with Rachel improvising an accompaniment. This inspired me to get out my guitar and improvise with her. It's such a long time since I last played it. Too often in recent years, my rheumatic finger joints have discouraged me from playing, plus I've had nobody to play with as Clare had been learning the flute slowly from scratch, not ready to be accompanied. Anyway, I joined in and played, without being defeated by pain, and my fingers and brain for the most part remembered what they needed to do. Like riding a bike, you never forget, even if you are a bit wobbly at first. Such a lovely hour spent together. And so to bed.