Oppressive heat

Hot and sunny today, 28C rising to 30C late afternoon with a scattering of high clouds. Housework after breakfast, then work on a short homily for Wednesday which took me longer than I envisaged. It was nearly two by the time I made a light lunch of chorizo with baked beans. Clare arrived from Felixstowe at a quarter to three, followed by Owain an hour later.

After he arrived, I went to Beanfreaks for three assorted bags of flour and vegan cheeses, a heavy load to carry home in exhausting heat. I marvel at how much better I tolerated heat in Andalucia, perhaps because it was much less humid most of the time. 

We went to Stefano's for supper. Afterwards Owain and I walked to Tesco's to buy a bottle of white wine to drink. We sat around in the lounge each doing their own thing, occasionally chatting; Clare reading her Kindle, Owain watching a travel programme on iPlayer, me starting to read 'El Amor en los Tiempos de Colera', by Gabriel Garcia Marques, a very special 80th birthday present from Veronica. 

It's such a pleasure to read beautiful Spanish prose which I can understand, save for a few words either new or forgotten. I see what's being described, despite initial gaps in vocabulary. Once I fill in the gaps my mental picture becomes even clearer, unless it's a construction or turn of phrase completely new to me It's part of the reading pleasure.

Overseers' oversights

Cloudy, warm, occasional glimpses of sky when I woke up at seven. Instead of dozing off again, I listened to the news and 'Sunday' religious magazine programme, which inevitably reported on the announcement Friday last, of the resignation of Andy John Archbishop of Wales 'with immediate effect'. Not exactly a surprise, sad to say. This last few months Bangor diocese and Cathedral have been in the spotlight for the wrong reasons, leading to a Provincial enquiry and a probe by the Charity Commissioners into financial irregularities in Cathedral management. Nothing to do with Bishop Andy himself but with misbehaviour by diocesan employees, acting in ways that betray trust placed in them as church office holders. What they did wrong for this to happen is one thing, but alongside it is the failure of oversight, if not denial of misbehaviour in face of concern expressed, not only in the media but also the Cathedral and diocese. 

Eight months ago the Archbishop of Canterbury resigned in similar circumstance for failing to deal with serious safeguarding issues in relation to complaints from church members subjected to sexual abuse by those entrusted with pastoral care in the church, both clerical and lay. His staff team could have done a lot better in raising concerns and nagging him until he acted. It's difficult enough when a person is constantly in the media spotlight, tackling a host of problems and challenges simultaneously. The demands of high public office are huge, and the church isn't best equipped to deal with them, like industry and commerce. 

By resigning, Bishop Justin admitted failure on behalf of the entire organised CofE. The Church in Wales is much smaller in comparison, with six dioceses and six hundred clergy, not forty two with 20,000. The same demands and distractions of public office still apply to the Archbishop of Wales, overseeing not just his own diocese of Bangor but supervising the affairs of the Province and leading his fellow bishops. Trust and confidence at every level of governance is essential. Before his resignation was announced, a meeting of the Church in Wales' Representative Body, its charitable trustees, with whom accountability for church  governance and financial affairs rests, passed a vote of no confidence in him. A decisive resigning issue.

Given the whiff of scandal and mounting criticism of Diocesan leadership over the months past, this has been a long drawn out affair, but still, at the root of it all is the betrayal of trust on the part of those he appointed to run the diocese. At least by letting this affair play out to its inevitable conclusion, the Church in Wales is left with an instructive case study of the consequences of a bishop not giving top priority to the role of Chief Pastor, and reminding his staff to ensure he stays faithful to this sacred commission.

I decided to worship at St German's this morning so I walked down to Cowbridge Road East and took a 17 bus to the city centre, then picked up an eastbound bus to take me within easy reach of the church. It's amazing to see the extent of redevelopment of run-down areas of Tredegarville and Adamsdown which has taken place over the past two decades, with student accommodation and offices along the route I walked. It was lovely to be welcomed back by members of the congregation, enjoy familiar a liturgy expression and a thoughtful sermon by Fr Jarel, who reflected on the diversity of expressions of faith and discipleship represented by the Apostles Peter and Paul, and reminded us that no matter what effort we make as Christ's disciples, we're all prone to weakness and failure, but in the end God's grace surpasses all our failings. 

It took two buses to get as far as Cowbridge Road after church, then I walked home from there. I took the precaution of preparing and part cooking lunch last night, as I knew how hungry I'd be, arriving home at a quarter to two. After eating, I spent an hour and a half writing, then fell asleep in the chair for over an hour before going out for a walk. The cloud cover had dispersed. There was no wind, and the evening sunshine at 23C was glorious. After supper, with nothing else to do, I watched another episode of 'The Sommerdahl Murders'. At least the crime investigation was complex, with a surprise twist in it at the very end. Its portrayal of a social environment in which sex with whoever you please is normal as long as they agree was insightful observing that it doesn't dispense with guilt or shame if a person feels they have something to hide.

Home alone, relaxing

Another dull day of cloud with occasional appearances of the sun. I was surprised last night at how quiet it was during the Blackweir Fields concert a mile away to the east. Normally when there are concerts in Cooper's Field nearer the castle, the sound is audible in Pontcanna, although it's a mile and a half away. The gig was over by ten thirty necessarily, to enable people to leave and catch late trains and buses or get to their hotels. There's been no shortage of complaints about using Blackweir Fields as a concert venue, but it seems planned arrangements were mindful of the proximity of the Cathays residential area. That's the first of four Blackweir concerts this fortnight. We'll see what kind of community feedback there'll be at the end

I made pancakes for breakfast, a third of the recipe ingredients was just right for me on my own, with cooked mushrooms and tomatoes to go with them. Linda arrived mid-morning to collect the small ASUS Chromebook I no longer need. I gave her a spare USB-C to B adaptor as this Chromebook has USB-C ports only, in case she wanted to plug USB-B peripherals into it, flash drive, printer. I realised that I'd not actually tried to print directly from it using a cable, only with a wi-fi printer when I was in Fuengirola. so I tried to do this with a cable from my ACER. 

It immediately recognised my ancient lazer printer and gave me a long menu of printer driver options to sift through. When I found a close match, it worked perfectly. I remember that it was equally straightforward working indirectly with another printer attached to another computer on the same network when I was in Nerja last year, but never needed to try this out on my home kit. It's good to know that you have alternative options in case there are problems with habitual ways of getting stuff done. If anything is going to go wrong it's most likely to when you're in a hurry. I rang Linda and explained how to go about printing with the ASUS once she has it set up for use. So much easier to do than with a Windows or Linux device.

I went out for a walk in Llandaff Fields, and was pleased the wind had blown much of the cloud away letting the sun shine, as ever there were three serious cricket matches going on, a few more games played by a few friends and family, and an assortment of picnic parties. It's lovely to see the park so well used. I waited until I got back to have lunch as I didn't feel hungry. Having cooked some chicken pieces yesterday I made a simple salad with couscous, which felt just right for a summery sort of day.

By the time I'd eaten, the sky had clouded over again when I went out for another walk in Thompson's park. The moorhens have certainly started another brood on theur floating nest as one bird sit on them while the other forages for food to feed the partner. It became humid and stayed warm until after sunset.  

I spent the entire evening converting the HP mini to Linux Mint with the device attached to our telly, using the wireless keyboard bought last week. For most purposes it behaves fine, but it's not a standard UK keyboard. The @ sign was on the opposite side of the keyboard from where it was indicated. Mint is great for swopping keyboard layouts, but there are a couple of dozen slightly different setups to chose from. Getting the correct one takes time. 

Crowded Cardiff

Cloudy again today, although some blue sky is visible. 22C, and hotter weather is promised. Clare spent the morning packing as lightweight a bag as possible for the train journey to visit Ann in Felixstowe. I spent my time writing, wondering what I can do with a weekend to myself.

I accompanied Clare on the 61 bus to Cardiff Central station at lunchtime, intending to take a train trip on the line to Rhymney and wanting to find out about the new Transport for Wales Metro network set up as it exists.You can still buy tickets from the booking office or from a machine in the entrance hall, but Tap and pay debit card services are now available in Valleys stations. Platform entrance gates are being upgraded to take tickets with a magnetic strip card, or e-tickets scanned from a QR code on your phone, or by going ticketless with debit card Tap and Pay. This has been available on Cardiff buses for the past seven years

It's a complex technical arrangement to cover all needs. I chatted with one of the station staff standing at the ticket barrier after saying goodbye to Clare, and he told me about the range of discount fares available to multiple trip users using digital means of payment. There are daily and weekly fare payment caps with Tap and Pay, benefiting commuters and people who travel frequently between Valley lines and different zones on the Metro network. Let's just hope this will get people out of their cars and on to public transport.

Outside in Central work teams had started to erect crowd control barriers. Then I realised it might not be such a good idea to travel out of town, for whenever I returned during the day, I would be joining the huge influx of visitors arriving for the Noah Kahan evening concert in Blackweir Fields, tens of thousands of them having to queue to get out of the station, and then navigate the length of the city centre on food to reach the Cowbridge Road crossing and return home up the west bank of the Taff through Sophia Gardens. As the road closures hadn't yet started, I was able to take a bus up Cathedral Road instead. Later I did some weekend shopping, buying a few things to eat that Clare wouldn't fancy. A consolation for being home alone. I also had a phone chat with Ashley and with Rachel, as she was having breakfast over in AZ.

After supper, I walked to Blackweir Bridge. The gates into Bute Park were closed, an hour and a half earlier than normal at this time of year. There were five men in hi-viz jackets at the gates making sure that nobody could go through for any reason. It was surprisingly quiet, and it was only when I was nearly back home at ten to nine that I could hear the distant echo of an outdoor amplified voice announcing the first of the support acts. Heaven knows what time the main feature act will start, or what will happen to the crowd after the concert ends in the small hours The twilight air may be a bit damp, but there's no rain or wind.

I watched an episode of 'The Good Doctor' for the first time in many months, and that took me up to bed time.

Off-loading

Another cloudy day, warmer not as windy. I went to Thompson's Park to check on the moorhen chicks, and was surprised to see that one of the parents was in the throes of nest building out in the pond where three pipes protrude from the water close to each other, relics of a fountain that I've never seen working. The bird uses these as a sort of scaffold around which to weave a raft of floating twigs together to make the base of a nest. Another such raft has been started in the water closer to the shore as well. On the far side of the pond the chicks were walking around pecking in the mud at the water's edge. Fascinating behaviour, one parent child minding, the other home making. No idea which gender adopts which role.

I cooked a seafood paella for lunch and straight after I went to Cafe Castan to meet Rufus who'd brought his wife Daria with him. It was great to see them both, it's several years since I last saw Daria, so it was good to catch up with her. Life is very busy for Rufus, as development plans for his role as Port Chaplain and organiser are bearing fruit. Then I went for a walk around the streets, and through Thompson's Park again on my way back.

At Tuesday's encounter with Linda and her phone I learned that she used an old touch screen Chromebook using only its virtual keyboard because its physical keyboard had died. I decided to give her my little ASUS touchscreen Chromebook which has served me well and its near the end of its supported life. My ACER Chromebook serves me well, and is in use for entertainment and work eighty per cent of the time. It's still in good condition, and will continue to work in any case, but without security updates. As she rarely surfs, mainly using it to write occasional emails and Zoom calls, the risk of it getting compromised is low. Better that she should have it to use, I thought. It's now been returned to factory settings ready to collect.

Much to my surprise I was called from the UHW eye surgery unit at tea time by a nurse charged with doing initial pre-op interviews over the phone. I believe this is part of the speed-up process for people in the queue for cataract surgery. Previously I've been summoned by letter for pre-op interviews, obliged to fill in a comprehensive health enquiry form with a couple of dozen questions on it. Having done this, an interview followed with a nurse who double checked everything I'd written down. What happened to the form then I don't know. I don't know if the content was scanned into an image to be added to my digital medical file, or the information extracted and added as separate pieces of information to a database within the file. 

Either is possible if money has been invested in the system. UHW still keeps that thick paper file embodying my medical history still kept along with more recent digitised info. When waiting to be seen before an examination, you often see trolleys of thick files being wheeled from archives into reception areas. The trouble is that the existing system is still error prone, updates don't always make it through a network to the server, crashes and malicious hacks happen. Some bits of the hospital network are new and fast, but others are old, legacy software and hardware in need of a huge expensive overhaul. It's no wonder waiting lists are long if queue processing is inefficient and maybe haphazard.

Having an experienced nurse call patients and interview them is a simple but effective measure. It was admittedly a cold call, not that it's a concern when the caller quickly establishes legitimate credentials. No initial appointment letter needs to be mailed, with the risk that it'll fail to reach the patient. Each question answered is entered straight into the patient's database and double checked, a saving of personnel time. I will now receive an appointment letter from the eye surgery team for a detailed physical check before a cataract replacement op is booked and then a letter with an appointment date after that. Two letters instead of three. It doesn't sound like a lot but scaled up for hundreds of patients it can save time and resources. More than enough to make use of an experienced nurse interested in doing something different which will make a difference. I just wonder how long management argued about cost effectiveness and the effort of all the changes necessary to off-load a less efficient bureaucratic procedure?

After supper I watched a story in series two of the Danish 'Sommerdahl Murders', beautiful people in a beautiful setting. Half of the story is about the marriage breakdown of two key crime investigators, and the other half is about the crime itself. I'm surprised that it's merited a second series. The personal relationship side of things is dull and lack lustre, and that rubs off the accompanying tragedy under investigation.

Virtual SIM virtues

Another cloudy day, comfortably warm. I woke up just before my phone notification sounded to remind me to post today's Morning Prayer YouTube link to the Parish Whats app group, and got up after the eight o'clock news.

As usual I went to the Eucharist at St Catherine's. We were eleven plus baby Sebastian who was brought by his grandpa for the first time today. It's his first birthday tomorrow, which means he's been in church on Wednesdays almost every week that the family has been in Cardiff for the past eleven months, much to the pleasure of all the regular oldies who make up the congregation. I collected this week's veggie bag from Chapter on my way home, and cooked a pasta dish with the flavoursome black beans which I tried for the first time last week.

I walked to Cowbridge Road East and took a bus to town, aiming to go to John Lewis' and check out a phone I'm thinking of buying - another Moto G. Its abiding appeal, like the one I have currently, is a version of Android which isn't laden with software unwanted to get rid of as soon as I set it up. There's a G24 on offer in the summer sale which is an improvement on mine, which I may offer. It has an added extra in the form of an eSIM, a digital software device which hosts software that emulates a physical SIM. With this I'd be able to buy a second phone number giving me as much data and phone time as I need plus free data roaming in Europe. 

Last year in Nerja I bought a physical SIM and two months worth of data for €20, covering eight of the ten weeks of my stay, a quarter of the cost of paying for EE data roaming. It was Kath's idea. When she and Anto were in Australia they bought an eSIM which covered the weeks of their stay and a lot more too. It's possible to de-activate an eSIM and retain what's left of our data allowance to use on another foreign trip. I'll buy a new phone before our Duoro cruise and add an eSIM there, where the mobile coverage along the Duoro will probably cover the borderlands of Portugal and Spain. Having checked the information, price and availability of the Moto G24, I made my way back to the Holiday Inn bus stop to return home. There are several phone shops in Grand Arcade, each with their own range of phone brands and contract to offer. I was bemused to notice that the EE/BT shop displayed no phones around its walls at all. Customers have to sit down with a store assistant to discuss their needs or wants, and then maybe look at selected ones on screen. The chosen phone is then retrieved when a deal is done from a stock room behind the scenes. It's possible for a customer to order on line and collect their purchase ad lib. An interesting variation in retail practice as it has evolved and grown since Covid.

Clare was walking up the row of shops on Penhill Road as I arrived there from the bus so we walked home together. She surprised, producing at short notice, carrot and coriander soup for supper with the surfeit of carrots available today. After we'd eaten, I went out for some fresh air, following a short spell of drizzle that made the evening smell as clean as at first light. For the rest of the evening I worked my way through my birdsong recordings, editing them, amplifying the sound and cleaning tracks of background noise. This robs them of any natural environment sounds but delivers the essential melody. Very useful if you want to memorise it and identify the bird in question. Fiddly, but worthwhile.

Upgrade annoyance

Another day of wind and cloud, the air damp, but not enough to produce drizzle. Trump made headline news first thing this morning, announcing a truce after 12 days of missile exchanges between Israel and Iran. He spoke too soon, as another exchange of missiles took place shortly after the deadline, provoking him to a frustrated expletive ridden condemnation of both sides for the violation of a a commitment he inevitably took all credit for. Since that early exchange there have been no more. What will happen next I wonder? Hopefully global media attention will now switch back to the continuing crisis of starvation and killing in Gaza, amid a rising tide of sentiment among Israelis that they'd have enough of war and seeing the economy drained by profligate military expenditure. 

The world waits and watches helplessly. Hamas has not been driven out of government let alone expelled from Gaza. Its military infrastructure has been smashed. Instead of there being a trained disciplined jihadi army surrender, there are now tens if not hundreds of thousands of lightly armed insurgents on the loose for organised crime gangs to recruit, whose hatred for Israel will have been amplified beyond measure by the destruction of their homeland.   Not all the hostages, whether still living or dead, have been returned home. Netanyahu's chief war aims have not been achieved, despite the cost and loss of life. The desire to expel the demon of Hamas has not only failed but opened the way for many more demons every bit as destructive and dangerous to manifest themselves and wreak havoc in years to come.

After breakfast I finished next week's Morning Prayer slideshow and uploaded it to YouTube. Clare had her study group in Penarth, and I went shopping for veg to cook along with two large pieces of coley for lunch. When she returned her friend Linda who gives her a lift was with her, asking if I could help her with her Samsung S24, phone as if was asking to install upgrades which she that didn't make sense and aroused her suspicious. She returned after lunch with the phone, and let me study it. 

She's had the phone a couple of months and had difficulties in using it, as the user interface is nothing like the one on her previous phone. When switched on a fixed blank screen containing a start button was all it displayed, and neither of the physical buttons would do anything useful. She feared this was malware. It occurred to me that a system upgrade had been downloaded and installed, but needed to configure it with personal details. Pressing 'Start' revealed page after page of demands for information about data sharing options, terms and conditions etc. The only way forward was to plough through them all (in tiny print) and opt out to limit data sharing wherever possible. 

The most confusing feature was the imposition of a range of AI tool intruding into the searching environment, pitching all sorts of unwanted confusing suggestions, intruding on one's thinking process. I was able to explain to Linda she'd have to get used to ignore things she didn't need in the user interface. She identified her regularly used apps and I showed her how to move them on to the home page, and move ones she didn't to another page, also how to add widgets. She didn't like the default Samsung notification sound, so I found the setting that made it possible to replace it with a simple ping. She's not a newcomer to mobile phones, and seldom used one in the past. She decided to buy a smartphone simply for its high quality camera. Fortunately, it didn't take her long to get it working for weeks before the Android update arrived. Hopefully its other features will now be more accessible to her in a user friendly way. 

When it came to powering down the phone, the method she'd been shown in when she bought it, seemed to work randomly, bringing up a Gemini search bar which gave information about how to turn it off, but was unable to implement the action. There's always more than one way to power down a phone. Normally, beneath the home screen when you sweep a finger down, a menu of assorted buttons is shown, and one of those is an 'Off' switch. Initially, I had a problem with this downward finger sweep, as the tiny hot-spot button wouldn't react at first. I showed Linda how to do this, just in case the physical side buttons kept on responding inconsistently. 

It took two and a half hours to get the phone to function in a way Linda felt comfortable with, largely because I was having to learn how to achieve things and show her as I went along. It wasn't as easy as it should be. I'm used to configuring devices, but without having to explain without jargon to someone who is unfamiliar with the very concepts employed and the language needed. 

Heavens! My Moto G22 is due for replacement as its front facing camera is damaged and screen slightly cracked and not as sensitive as it used to be. Will I have the same sort of issues setting up a new phone imposing fancy new AI features I don't need? I hope not. When I last changed my phone, just about all the basic setup was taken care of. In my decades of using software on any device, development means, that each new iteration adds more options than you ever need, configuration gets more complex, and if the interface is simplified for visual appeal it means more features are buried in drop down menus, taking longer to find what you need. It's no wonder so many older people coming late to this brave new world are scared of doing things wrong, losing data, forgetting how to navigate around an app, getting scammed.

It was five by the time I went out and walked for an hour or so. I really needed it to clear my head after all that small screen concentration. Clare had left for meditation group by the time I returned. I wrote for an hour and a half, and waited to have supper with her when she returned. At dusk I went out again for a short walk, to complete my daily quota before turning in for the night. 

Salmon in the sunlight

An overcast start to the day with strong gusts of wind eventually blowing the cloud away. Cool but sunny.

Housework after breakfast. Then I cooked lunch using millet instead of rice for a change with savoury cannelli beans and veg. Afterwards I recorded and edited next week's Morning Prayer and made a start on  the video slide show before going out for a lap of Pontcanna Fields. When I arrived at Blackweir Bridge, the sun was just a the right angle to reveal a group of salmon in the pool. I took a good photo of the largest of them, about two thirds of a metre long, as the light glinted on its back. Yesterday I spotted a gull trying to swallow an eel it had caught in the shallows at the base of the fish ladder, and took a photo. The eel was still wriggling. Although the image is quite sharp, it's not clear that it's an eel and alive.

Clare went out to choir practice at six, and I binge-watched the remaining episodes of 'Pale Mountains' over supper and the rest of the evening until bed time. Four crime stories interlinked and related to a past crime which was covered up, and on top of that, two stories about children born out of wedlock finding their birth mothers, plus stories of love and friendship, identity loyalty and trust. A very intricate absorbing plot with many twists and turns. Despite the tragedies and betrayals a feel-good ending, with music to match.

Parks takeover

Cloudy today, but not overcast, with a west wind making it ten degrees cooler than yesterday's thirty degrees. Such fluctuations in the weather! We both slept even later than usual. I went to the Eucharist at St Catherine's alone. Clare decided to attend the afternoon's Welsh language service. A happy atmosphere prevailed during and after worship. Some people were clearly tired after their efforts invested in making yesterday's summer fayre such a resounding success with excellent attendance by old and young alike. A record amount of money was raised, £3150. Just reward for a big effort.

Trump has brought the USA into the Middle Eastern conflict, by ordering air strikes on nuclear industrial sites in Iran, achieving what Netanyahu's government desired but couldn't carry out, as its doesn't have bombs that can penetrate the depth at which Iranian laboratories are situated. Iran keeps bombarding Israel with missiles, but will it dare to bombard American military bases in the region, and escalate the conflict further? What will happen next? The world waits to find out. Meanwhile the daily death toll at Gaza's few aid distribution centres continues to rise.

After lunch, I slept for an hour in the chair, then walked over to Bute Park, to find out what was going on there, as the amplified sound from some event over there was in the background yesterday and today. The whole of Coopers Field was enclosed with fencing. Then I remembered that Cardiff's Gay Pride fiesta has been taking place this weekend, involving a big stage with gigs, lots of stalls and tents housing for smaller activities. There's even a 'Faith tent'. Instagram showed photos of Bishop Mary celebrating the Eucharist there in the open air.

Having found out what was happening, I walked back home by way of Blackweir Fields. This too is now enclosed by security fencing along the footpaths around the periphery and a wall four metres high, making it impossible for passers by to watch from outside the open air concert enclosure. By change Ann called me as I was walking by. Reception was exceptionally bad in a place where there's usually a good signal. I quickly found out that the wall was constructed of metallic panels disrupting electronic signals, enough to prevent anyone using their phones to make a clear recording for free of a concert from a spot just outside. A weak or absent signal could inadvertently put passers-by at risk if there was an assault or an accident that meant making an emergency call. I wonder if anyone responsible has noticed this?

Inside the enclosure a giant performance stage is being constructed. It must be 15 metres high, or more. It gives the vast field outside the woodland conservation area a distinctly dystopian feel, as there's no public information displayed to indicate exactly what is going on behind the screen. During the second world war open fields alongside the Taff were taken up with military encampments, guarded and patrolled. Citizens knew why the fields were occupied for a good purpose. 

Sure, information about forthcoming concerts and the city's decision making process leading to this economy boosting project are all available on-line, but not everyone finds things out electronically. Many people with better things to do will take their usual route through the parks and find out something is about to happen when a usually quiet open public space fills with stacks of fencing and scaffolding being delivered. Is this really a good way to elicit public good will? Or just another instance of showing people how few rights they have and how little control they have over their environment, alienating them from governing authorities.

After supper I watched the first crimmie in a new Italian series set in Bolzano, South Tyrol. The scenery is stunning but it's the social setting that makes this interesting. It's in a mixture of Italian and German with English subtitles. The traditional language of much of the southern alps was a German dialect, but after the first world war, a region that had been part of the Austro-Hungarian empire was ceded to Italy with Italian as its official language. This has bred resentments and after the second world war, a violent separatist movement emerged, reminiscent of those Ireland and Catalunya. Violence may have been contained if not eliminated, but cultural identity is still a bone of contention in a bi-lingual province where both languages don't have the same status and value. I wonder if this has changed in any way, thanks to membership of the European Union? I'm intrigued. Must find out!

Decisions with life changing consequences

Overcast again, 25C, humid with occasional rain showers into the afternoon. St Catherine's summer fayre takes place this afternoon. Oh dear, how disappointing! I cooked breakfast pancakes from scratch, as I was up before Clare, tasked with tracking down the vegan recipe in her personal folder of hand written and odd magazine extracts. It's quite well organised, but it still took me a while to find the recipe, which uses plant milk, oil and buckwheat flour blended together into a viscous creamy paste. Should it have been thicker or thinner? I didn't know, but now I've memorised my pancake cooking technique, I produced eight pancakes well cooked slightly thicker than usual, slightly crisp on the outside. Feeling pleased with myself now.

Then we walked down to St Catherine's to deliver cakes Clare had baked, and the barge-ware decorated weighing scale for the bric-a-brac stall. The church lawns are covered with tents to cover an assortment of stalls, all a work in progress at this point. Some may need to be moved into the hall if rain persist, but for the moment everyone waits in hope, and prepares whatever they can. Almost all the fayre workers are of retirement age with a handful of teenage grandchildren pressed into service setting up. The missing middle generations will turn up and spend (hopefully) this afternoon, busy this morning catching up on weekend domestic chores and family affairs. As it's not quite beach weather, younger families may hopefully opt to attend the Fayre rather than head for the seaside. Whoever turns up will be welcomed, that's for sure. A day like this showcases church people as they, are being themselves, open to the local community, just as much as its building and beautifully kept grounds are.

We returned home for lunch and I wrote for a while after we'd eaten, before going back to church to find the fayre in full swing. The grounds were full of people enjoying food, browsing bric-a-brac and toy stalls. There were lots of children with their parents, queuing for the bouncy castle, entertained by a Punch and Judy show and disco for hyperactive kids. Such a hive of activity! After a rain shower at lunchtime the sky cleared, the sun came out, the grass dried and there was nothing to deter people from making the effort to visit the fayre. I stayed for an hour, then went for a walk in the park until supper time.

It's been a momentous few weeks in public and parliamentary debate about social ethics. Decriminalising abortion first, taking the pressure off vulnerable women who for a host of different reasons may find they need to end a pregnancy beyond the current legal limit for doing this, either by miscalculation or perhaps due to an unexpected life changing crisis. There is no criminal intent to merit an often long drawn out criminal investigation into the reasons for the abortion. Nobody benefits from justice applied without compassion. It's a tragedy when any child is conceived unintentionally, in circumstances that undermine its potential for a healthy life, because its birth is seen as a curse, not a blessing. When a potential mother cannot find support to bring a child into the world and raise it themselves, adoption is a real option, bringing a blessing to a childless couple. Fewer women have this option available to them than the number for whom this course is beyond their reach. 

Those who are poor and vulnerable are likely to suffer most. Until now treating them as criminal suspects fails to help them get through such a tragedy. The rights of the expectant mother are as important as those of the unborn child. It shouldn't be a case of either/or, but both/and. It's an indictment of social priorities and values that it's become such a conflict of interests. In an era of falling birth rates it seems short sighted to tolerate high abortion numbers rather than offer to those who need it support to bring an unwanted child to birth for adoption. Perhaps this will change for the better one day.

The other legislation change with far reaching consequences concerns euthanasia, help for those suffering in their last months of life to die in order to escape degrading suffering and causing distress to family and friends, by means of a lethal injection. Of necessity it involves members of the medical profession going above and beyond the scope of palliative care. Doctors and nurses are divided in their opinions about this, so is parliament, and the decision has now been taken by relatively small majority to develop workable legislation that permits euthanasia in carefully controlled circumstances. 

Switzerland, Spain, Austria, the Benelux countries, New Zealand, Australia, Colombia, Canada and some American States have already legalised euthanasia. Attitudes have changed favourably in Britain as the experience of other countries has become more widely known. The key concern here has been to protect vulnerable people from being coerced into making such a fateful decision. Hopefully one positive outcome would be greater attention and support given to those in need of end of life palliative care. The hospice movement has grown over the past half century in Britain as a voluntary charitable enterprise in partnership with the NHS. Can we do better in reducing suffering right to the end? Can care be improved to the extent that terminally ill people no longer feel the need to curtail their lives?

I've spent the entire evening reflecting and writing on this. I find it hard to imagine myself in either of the situations under debate, as such life changing experiences have not yet confronted me. My heart goes out to all those who have to confront such issues daily.

Moorhen magic and mystery

Sadly, an overcast start to the day, 22C and humid, but rising to 30C as cloud slowly dispersed late morning. Clare's been busy baking cakes for the St Catherine's summer fair. I had a digital chore to do, ensuring that new files on Google Drive are copied to OneDrive, and copied to my Linux Mint workstation and backup. It's not that I've produced much new material I want to keep in the past six months, but the little I do need to keep must be available on every device I use. The only app I regularly use on my Windows laptop is for making video slideshows. Chromebook for convenient composing, Linux desktop has the printer attached to use with Libre Office and Google Docs. 

These days I print little, apart from sermons and prayers but often forget to make sure the file is copied to each system I use. Doing this reminded me how few Sunday services I've taken this year, half a dozen requiring me to write a homily. I don't miss the delivery pressure week after week, but I do miss preaching and preparing for it. Writing a weekly biblical reflection is still a labour of love. Writing a 10-15 minute address is a different discipline to writing a 4-5 minute text that often calls for more editing time to produce one point than it takes to draft. In a sermon, it's possible to tell a story, explain scripture or comment on noteworthy current events. 

Keeping affairs in order occupied me until after midday, then I cooked tofu burgers with fried onion, with rice and carrots, plus leaves of a large spring cabbage, which are notoriously tough unless you cook them for twice as long as carrots to get them past chewy. Not really my favourite meal to cook or eat, but it has to be done sometimes. I did a grocery shopping trip after lunch, then went again to Thompson's Park with my Sony Alpha 68 and long lens to see if I could improve on the moorhen chick photos taken yesterday. To my surprise, in exactly the same spot I photographed five chicks together, with mum in the water just below them, picking morsels of weed and visiting them. A couple of them competed for food attention, as they did yesterday, so much so that the tiny balls of fluff merged into one. They are so fluffy, they don't have a distinct visual outline, it's a kind of camouflage, making it hard for predators to spot them when they are not moving. What a delight!

This evening we went to St John's whether there was a fund raising memorial concert in honour of Brian Robert Bale a local man who was an elder statesman of the gay community in Cardiff and London in his younger days. Canna Capella, the choir Clare sings with, performed a set of songs, a couple of classical guitarists played baroque and Latin American duets, and a short film featuring Brian speaking to camera about his experience of coming out as a gay man in the 1970s was shown. 

Funds raised will go towards the installation of a wi-fi hub for the building. When St John's started streaming the Sunday Eucharist in covid times, it was achieved thanks to the goodwill of volunteers using their own 4G mobile phones. Back then I suggested it would be worth having a wi-fi installation with a few cameras for live streaming events, but this fell on deaf ears. At least nowadays the cost of such tech' is a fraction of what it was, as its usage has proliferated to the extent that it's seen as infrastructure rather than a local amenity.

Eighteen years ago BT's Wales division offered to install a wi-fi hub in the city Parish Church of St John the Baptist for free as a publicity stunt and in those days, proof of concept that having a public wi-fi link would work and be useful. It didn't work so well as the church architecture produced too many dead spots. After a year, we decided the cost of taking out an internet subscription was unjustifiable when the project ended. How far we've come since then!

Corpus Christi in Ely

Another day of blue sky, brilliant sunshine and the temperature rising from 25 to 30 in the afternoon. It's proper holiday weather, encouraging me to relax and linger late in bed. It's rather a waste of morning, even though there's nothing booked in my diary to get me going early. I had a nice half hour chat with Kath as she was on her way to work. She always calls on Thursday to speak with one of us while she's driving, bless her. Rachel tends to ring as we're about to go to bed, which is the time she's just got up for breakfast in Arizona. Owain often rings once or twice a week, as he walks around Greenbank cemetery cum wildlife haven after work. We're so fortunate that they keep in touch with us.

I escaped the house and walked in Llandaff Fields for an hour before lunch. Delicious baked mackerel with roast veg today! After we'd eaten, I made the video slide show to go with next Wednesday's Morning Prayer, and uploaded it to YouTube, then I went for a walk to Thompson's Park, regretting that I hadn't put a hat on, as the sun was fierce. It was good to see the Luffkin coffee shop open again. Although the lease has surrendered several months ago, the guy who used to run the place has agreed to continue to remain a keyholder and open ad lib for the time being. The Council acknowledges it's been a popular amenity in a spot where after school socialisation for parents with small children is now a feature of local life. Tenders for another coffee shop leaseholder are now invited, and it suits the estates department to have someone on hand who knows the place and can answer enquiries. A win-win arrangement.

One of the moorhens was swimming at the end of the park pond near the grass verge. When I looked more closely, four very tiny black fluffy chicks were standing on the stone ledge by the water. I don't think I've seen them so young before and I've no idea where the nest in which they were hatched is located - in the shadow of the surrounding trees somewhere nearby I guess. What a delight!

After an early supper, I walked down to Cowbridge Road and took a bus to take me to St David's Church in Ely to join a congregation of twenty celebrating the feast of Corpus Christi. Given today's hot weather, I recalled as I travelled the Corpus Christi Mass at San Salvador in Nerja last year with a procession through the streets to San Miguel Church. I arrived at half past six and spent quiet time before the service saying Evensong. Fr Rhys and Fr Jesse accompanied by Deacon Sian Parker, soon to be ordained priest, leading the congregation of about twenty in worship. After communion, a procession with the Blessed Sacrament around the exterior of the building, with Sian carrying the sacrament in a monstrance and offering Benediction to the congregation after the procession. 

Conventionally in Catholic tradition, carrying the monstrance in procession is reserved for (male) priests in order of seniority. Anglo-Catholics accepting the priestly ordination of women have already disposed of convention and there's no reason why any ordained Deacon should not officiate in this way, so the congregation was witness to an unusual up-ending of convention, perhaps without realising. In small ways the church adapts and adjusts to changing times and expressions of pastoral leadership, perhaps without realising it's doing so.

I didn't stay long after the service for the glass of bubbly offered at the back of the church. I just wanted to get home and relax. There's a bus stop opposite the church, and I only had to wait a few minutes before an X2 country bus appeared and took me to be bottom end of Lansdown Road Canton, with a fifteen  minute walk back home. I found Clare watching a fascinating programme about recent advances in scientific examination of Stonehenge and the wider area around it, which is filled with burial sites and processional ways. It seems that the monuments represented an important place of status and power, not only for the British Isles but also for north western Europe, thanks to the importance of Britain's rare accessible silver, gold and tin mining assets, from nine thousand years ago. Extraordinary examples of bronze age artifacts made of precious metal revealed how remarkably skilled people were, even at a time when the best tools they had for cutting materials were fashioned from flint. It seems possible that some tiny gold objects were made by keen-sighted children. Amazing! 

Latency and a near miss fatal error

How good to wake up in bright sunshine and a temperature of 18C and rising to 25C in the afternoon. It's 30C further to the south east and promises to continue being summery until we reach Midsummer Day next week. BBC news however couldn't help but mention this little seasonal heat wave without also mentioning the approaching threat of 40-45C summers within a few years to cheer us down again. It's a serious prospect for agriculture and water management, but how far is government strategy taking this into account and changing planning priorities? I wonder.

In the course of posting today's YouTube link to Morning Prayer on the Parish WhatsApp prayer thread, I accidentally overwrote the text of the Reflection which accompanies it in the course of cutting and pasting it. As it's stored on Google Docs, this error meant losing the text and being unable to post it. As I was in the bedroom at the time, and the house wi-fi was switched off, I guessed that an error made on my phone's  4G would take a few minutes to update the internet server, so I ran downstairs, started the Chromebook  found the missing text in Google Docs where I left it yesterday and copied it before the router finished booting up and updating from the internet. Although my error appeared on updating, I had saved the text to paste back into Docs and WhatsApp with a few seconds to spare. It made me realise that on a phone version of Docs there's  no obvious undo/redo button, as there is on a laptop keyboard. Google claims one is buried in the Edit menu, but I couldn't find it on my phone. Lesson learned.

Israel and Iran are still exchanging missiles, and Trump is keeping everyone guess about whether or not he will involve US military actively in support of Israel's war of eliminating Iran's nuclear scientific research enterprise, convinced that manufacture of nuclear weapons under the guise of a civil nuclear development programme is imminent. With all parties lying about what they know and don't know for certain, hiding their real motives and intentions, it's impossible to understand what may really be going on. Media interventions from Trump only add to the confusion.

There were just six of us at the St Catherine's Eucharist this morning. After coffee I collected this week's veggie bag from Chapter, and returned home to cook a pasta dish with canelli beans and fresh organic carrots for an early lunch. I needed to be back at St Catherine's by half past one for Mike Kelly's funeral. I took with me the weighing scale decorated in 'barge-ware' style for the bric-a-brac stall instead of taking it to the tip for recycling, since it wasn't fit for kitchen use, but maybe a saleable object d'art at Saturday's summer church fayre. It seemed even heavier to me than when we acquired it last autumn in Tenby.

There were about two hundred people at the funeral, colleagues, family and friends, to say goodbye to a well loved man whose life was devoted to theatre in Wales as an actor, director and sympathetic critic. His son and a couple of friends gave warm tributes, and his presence in St Catherine's congregation as a lesson reader of distinction, thanks to his background, was acknowledged. I was glad to be in the congregation with nothing to do except pray for the man I knew. I slipped away immediately after the service as I had things to do. First I recorded and edited the audio for next week's Morning Prayer, then I posted summer Fayre leaflets through the letter boxes of the remaining ninety houses not done yesterday. 

Marc shared with me photos he took at Sunday's icon blessing. All of them were downsized for sending. I must ask if he'll send me the originals.

After supper, a new series of 'Grace' to watch on ITVX. A story about an Albanian organised crime gang's activity on England's south coast, including modern slavery, extortion, kidnapping and a money laundering investment entrepreneur whose business is on the brink of failure. Quite a lot to squeeze into ninety minutes of fast paced action. Well put together, but predictable, nothing new, no interesting insights. 

A world remade in our own image envisaged

Another pleasant warm sunny day. Clare's study group met in the morning. In the absence of a kettle I got out a 5 litre hot water boiler bought some years ago but didn't use much, and put it into service to provide us with drinks and hot water for cooking ad interim.  I kept working on next week's reflection until it was nearly lunchtime then went to the shops in Canton to buy lettuce and cucumber to make a salad lunch, as Clare proposed supper at Stefano's tonight. The only kettle I could find in a general dry goods store had a plastic and wasn't what I was looking for. After we'd eaten, I walked over to the big Tesco Extra on Western Avenue, where I found a metal bodied Russel Hobbs kettle with 20% off just what I wanted.

I made a start on delivering leaflets for Saturday's summer Fayre in the three streets off Llanfair Road, and one terrace of houses in Llanfair as well, about half the number that I've agreed to do. The rest, tomorrow.

We went to Stefano's at six for supper. It's quiet there at that time so we get served relatively quickly. Clare had her usual sea bass, I had an overly hot spiced chicken dish and we shared bowls of mixed salad and sweet potato chips between us. Clare had a plate with portions of three menu desserts on it. Normally I don't eat restaurant puddings, but I had to help her out by eating most of the sticky toffee pudding. It was too sweet for me, but there was no fruit on the menu. We were back home njust after The Archers was over, and listened together on BBC Sounds.

Then I watched the last two episodes, and as I guessed, the perpetrator was an AI bot called Ray, a highly sophisticated algorithm trained on the entirety of data available to it. Ray enlists the help of a five year old child to carry out a couple of different murders, by duping the child into thinking he's playing at being a doctor, and making sure lethal means are available (although exactly how is unclear). All this happens as a result of a strategic error in faulty programming exposing the reality that in the use of language it's not always possible to distinguish fact from fiction, an,,d emotion from reason. The author of the AI bot feeds it with his own moral blindness, obsessive controlling tendencies and occasional outbursts of emotional volatility. It's a mirror of his own flawed brilliance.

Given what I read yesterday about data pollution leading to 'learning model collapse' the story-line reflects a concern already observed and portrayed in fiction several years ago, and now being confirmed by data scientists and mathematicians. There was a back story about three key figures in this drama, all hackers and interrogators of a system that has evolved around us since the advent of the internet. This was shown in often lengthy flashbacks, making the tale slow moving and over-long. Even so, moments of insightful dialogue in scenes past and present provided food for thought about our life and times.

Data pollution angst

Cloudy and mild again today. It was after nine by the time we both surfaced for breakfast, but at least I had good night's sleep. Clare less so. Housework afterwards and then I started preparing next Wednesday's Morning Prayer text and Reflection. In the mail, Clare received her copy of this quarter's Anthroposophy newsletter densely packed with learned articles, one of which was an interview with Fran about her icon writing journey, and a photo of our Trinitarian icon in full colour on the front cover. It looks magnificent in reproduction, though not a wonderful as it does on our dining room wall in natural light. It's a wonderful thing to have at the heart of our home.

Israel and Iran have continued exchanging missiles with deadly consequence defying fears of escalation on the part of the international community of nations, whilst at the same time diverting attention from the continued starvation of Palestinians in Gaza. A token fraction of humanitarian aid is being delivered daily at the cost of lives of people at distribution points acting in desperation to grab what little they can, if they can, being shot at by the security forces or by criminal gangs trying to take control of the situation. Blatant disregard of the value of the human beings enduring such suffering is an expression of cynical contempt which can in no way commend the actions of an Israeli government which thinks it justifies the strategic interests not only of Israel but the Middle East as a whole. It's frustrating and distressing to witness.

I'm still reflecting on an article I read yesterday about AI's Chat GPT teaching itself to manage the sum of all recorded knowledge by extracting data of every kind from the internet, including all verified data, propaganda, lies, fantasy and faked news, without discrimination. Whatever AI learning summarises is then included without distinction in the sum of all knowledge, including that vast body of data which is increasingly not error free, and therefore unreliable - what is known as 'learning model collapse'. But was there ever such a thing as perfectly pure information to learn from. Not really, but the multiplication of unreliable information due to the internet has accelerated the rate of contamination since devices like Chat GPT have been launched upon us. 

An interesting analogy has been made from the realm of metallurgy. When tested for background radiation steel made since 1945 when the first atom bombs were detonated have shown a distinct rise in radiation levels due to the fall out of radio-active isotopes contaminating steel making. For most purposes this rise is negligible, but certain kinds of highly sensitive scanners used in medicine don't work as intended due to random error signals produced by radioactive decay. This is not so in the case of pre-war steel, which is now a commodity in great demand thanks to its low background radiation. 

Sunken battleships and other pre-1945 military equipment not reduced to scrap metal since are a key source. Data produced prior to the emergence of AI learning models is regarded as the equivalent of this kind of steel. One commentator says of AI produced information: "You can build a very usable data model that lies. You can build quite a useless model that tells the truth." Another says "Now, it's not clear to what extent model collapse will be a problem, but if it is a problem, and we've contaminated this data environment, cleaning is going to be prohibitively expensive, probably impossible." It's as if the smart people have created a digital era 'tower of Babel' situation without realising.

I started preparing next Wednesday's Morning Prayer while Clare cooked a veg and lentil dish with brown rice for lunch and then I started writing a biblical reflection on a difficult passage in Romans 5 before we ate. Then there was some grocery shopping to do. When I returned to writing later, a Chromebook update distracted and troubled me, installing an app called notebookLM described as a research and note-taking online tool developed by Google that uses its own Gemini (AI) tool, to assist users in interacting with their documents. Why would I need to use it if I haven't expressed a need for such a thing? And, can I get rid of it, as opposed to simply moving out of sight it from my toolbar? I don't yet know. It feels more like an imposition than an offer. It's a bit like Microsoft persisting in pushing its Edge Browser every time there's a system update. Thank heavens for the Linux Open Source alternative where users decide on software and retain control of their operating system.

Before supper I watched some more of the hi-tech whodunit. Clare went out to Choir practice and I continued watching while I ate on my own. I discovered that our kitchen kettle no longer works. The on/off switch is broken. Too late to buy one today. 

I went out for a walk in the evening sun. I was amazed to see so many people out playing games or training for a sport on Llandaff Fields, under a blue sky with no wind, and 20C temperature. When I got back I continued binge watching  'Murder at the end of the world' until bedtime. Interestingly, what started as a whodunnit is morphing in to a feminist critique of male dominance and maybe something else. I think I have spotted the culprits and look forward to finding out if I guessed correctly when I watch the final two episodes.

  

Hallowing a trinitarian icon

Cloudy, windy 17C today. After breakfast, I printed copies the icon blessing rite text, packed the icon, and walked to St Luke's by half past ten to have time to make the necessary arrangements and brief Fr Rhys before the Mass. Kath and Clare followed by car. Fran and Mark arrived at a quarter to eleven with a tall painter's easel for displaying the icon next to the font at the start and finish, with a small stand to display it on the altar after Communion stowed by the side of the credence table until needed. Rhys gave us a full address on our relationship with God understood as Holy Trinity.

I presented the bread and wine at the offertory. Clare and Fran followed me carrying the icon between them, and presented it to Rhys, who censed it along with the bread and wine after the offertory prayer was said. There were twenty of us in the congregation altogether, just one choir member and the organist today, but they did well holding the service together musically. 

Fr Rhys rose to the occasion, celebrating with enthusiasm and warmth. The icon sat on the small stand facing the congregation with him standing in front of it facing east for the blessing prayer of dedication. The sun peeped through the cloud and lit it up, congregation members stopped and gazed at the icon with appreciation and wonder. Everything went just as intended on Holy Trinity Sunday.

We returned home for lunch in the garden. Kath went out to meet her friend Emma for coffee, and I went for a walk around Pontcanna Fields, and returned just as Kath was getting ready to leave for Kenilworth. No sooner had she departed than Rachel called to wish me a happy Fathers day and have a chat. Owain sent me a message and then called later. Lovely to hear from all my offspring, sad however that it's rare we can all gather together at the same time.

After supper I started watching a mini-series set in a remote hotel in the wintry wilderness of Iceland, in which an elite gathering of tech leaders and innovative thinkers takes place to think about the future of the planet in the face of many existential threats. When a participant dies, it becomes a whodunit in the classic genre, involving an AI bot and an amateur sleuth who happens to be a world class hacker who is one of the invited guests. It's a 21st century Agatha Christie type scenario exploring the impact of new technologies in a fast changing world with as many new threats as opportunities, but the same power tensions in relationships between men and women still at the heart of the story. How it turns out, we'll see.

Icon comes home

Another fair weather day with clouds and sunshine. I got up first and cooked pancakes for breakfast. Kath drove us to Porthkerry Country Park for a walk along the shore, and then a snack lunch in the cafe. Just as we were looking for a place to sit and eat on the terrace there was a brief cloudburst, soaking all the tables and benches except the ones covered by a huge umbrella. A second umbrella covering several more tables was furled as it was broken, so we had to share a table with another solitary eater who didn't look pleased to have company. 

After we'd eaten we walked up the path under the railway viaduct for half a mile. We were accompanied all the way by a small bird, possibly a chaffinch, which alighted on the ground ahead of us, then flew on fifty metres, and so on, as if it was leading the way. Very unusual behaviour.

Then we went to have tea with Fran and Mark, and to collect my trinitarian icon, ready for its blessing at St Luke's Mass tomorrow. It looks so beautiful now it's finished. I unwrapped it and hung it on the dining room wall when we returned home, where it will live in future.

Clare and Kath sat in evening sunshine in the garden while I cooked a seafood paella for supper. After we'd eaten Kath and I went for a lap of Llandaff Fields before sunset. It wasn't long before it was time for an early night.

More war in the Middle East

A warm day, high cloud with sunny spells and the occasional light shower. In the news, Israel has made preemptive strikes against Iranian nuclear facilities, top military leaders, scientists and civilians who just happened to be in the way, and this has led to a barrage of missile and drone attacks in retaliation. It's been alleged that Iran's nuclear industry has stockpiled enough weapons grade uranium to make several atom bombs, in defiance of international agreement on nuclear arms limitations. Israel is waging war on several fronts at the same time. It may be a relatively rich nation with a complex economy, strong on research and technological innovation, but warfare is very costly. The drain on resources will have a negative impact on everyone in the country eventually, and heaven knows how that will affect Palestinian destiny.

Two food shopping trips before lunch. Clare made salmon soup with remnants of the filleted fish bought yesterday. I dozed in the chair afterwards for three quarters of an hour, then did a third food shopping trip. While I was out I bought myself a new wireless keyboard and mouse to use with the small HP desktop PC which Owain returned to me unused. It can't be upgraded to Windows 11, so I intend to convert it to Linux to use for storage. I downloaded Ubuntu Studio to try out. It's got an impressive number of video on music editing software, but it uses the KDE user interface, of which I know very little. Too much of a learning curve to be able to configure suitably, so I think I'll try a few more Linux versions before setting on one that's easier to use. Or else install Linux Mint, which I do know how to configure.

I spent most of the evening downloading and inspecting Ubuntu Studio, then Kath arrived late, to stay for a couple of nights. Every parking place in our neighbourhood was taken, as it often is on the weekend, so she had to park her car the other side of Thompson's Park. We sat and chatted over a few glasses of wine, time standing still until just before midnight.

Digital sovereignty - a new concept

After yesterday's summery interlude overcast again with light rain for much of the day. Getting to bed by half past ten was beneficial, even if I was awake for an extra hour at first light. I don't understand why my sleep pattern is so variable. It's the same for Clare too, due to joint pain, which I don't suffer from. It's neck stiffness I suffer from, no matter what combination of pillows I try out.

I read an interesting piece on a tech' news site about the state of Denmark's intention to replace Microsoft Office, Cloud services and operating systems with Libre Office, Linux and other open source software, not reliant on Trump's policy whims. 

A new phrase has been coined in reaction to his America First policy: digital sovereignty. There's an increased risk that strategic decisions about tariffs and sanctions taken in the USA could deny non-American users access to communications networks and their own data. This would be of particular significance for Greenland, historically a Danish colony, in the light of Trump's ambition to annex the territory for its own security purposes. Equally important is the escalating cost of Microsoft products. The idea of developing an independent European set of Cloud services becomes attractive. Both Russia and China have their own independent Cloud services, so why not the EU?

I spent the morning after breakfast making a backup of the weekly biblical reflections I've published on WhatsApp so far this year, a painstaking and fiddly job. I also sent the rite for blessing a new icon which I've devised to Fr Rhys, ready for Sunday Mass at St Luke's, where my birthday present icon will be hallowed duringthe liturgy. Then I started preparing veg for lunch. Clare went into town to buy a batch of fish for freezing, and brought back a couple of herring fillets to eat fresh. Such a gentle delicious flavour. 

I walked after lunch down to the bottom of Sophia Gardens and back. A fun fair is being set up there on the site often occupied by itinerant circuses or open air theatre productions, right next to the coach station.

In the evening I watched an Australian drama set in the outback of Victoria state. Beautiful scenery and a tragic story about the dark side or life in a neglected poor rural community. 

More crime watching

At last a change in the weather with the temperature in the low twenties, with sunshine and thin cloud, East Wales is said to be the warmest area of the country today. It's more like summer at last. I was awake after slightly less sleep than I needed, and posting this week's Morning Prayer YouTube link to Morning Prayer just before half past seven, dozed through the news, got up at eight and washed my hair after breakfast. 

There were ten of us at the St Catherine's Eucharist and a dozen for coffee afterwards. Two men of the congregation were mowing the church lawns when I arrived. Before the service when the door was open, the sound of mowing and the scent of freshly cut grass like incense wafted into the building on the warm breeze. The church grounds are looking lovely with many more fruit trees and bushes being planted, cold frames and two greenhouses, soon to be relocated. All along the front railings a colourful border of flowers, behind clean green painted railings. Let's hope that a well cared for place conveys the message of being a caring place to the wider world, and attracts newcomers.

I collected the veggie bag from Chapter on the way home and cooked brown rice, carrots and fennel with prawns using the remainder of my garlic soup as a sauce to heat the cooked prawns in. Then I slept for an hour in the chair and felt a bit more fit for purpose. Clare took herself to watch a film in Chapter. I didn't feel up to it, and thought I might fall asleep, unless the loudness of the cinema hi-fi surround sound system bullied me into staying awake. My hearing is pretty good still, but I experience pain from excessive noise, whether in a movie house or outdoors. Being two miles from UHW we hear a lot of ambulance and police sirens along our main roads, and it's really unpleasant. Funnily enough, live un-amplified orchestral music at fairly close range in a concert hall isn't painful. That says a lot about the difference in quality of the sound I'm hearing.

After my siesta I went for a walk in Llandaff Fields, and reached home at the same time as Clare. After supper I looked on iPlayer again for something to watch and found a BBC Wales production set in various locations in South Wales, though mainly in Y Bannau Brycheiniog as the Brecon Beacons National Park is now re-branded. It's a well crafted lightweight comedy. You could say it's basically a sit-com with in the setting of a murder mystery lots of typical character led banter in English, as well as subtitled dialogue in Welsh. The crime investigators are not really believable, and the amateur sleuth, a retired actor who played a detective in his working life, the one interesting character. There's no dramatic pathos in it to balance the entertaining funny dialogue. 

The pace of story I found rather fast in places making it difficult to grasp the reasoning that solves the mystery, but maybe that's just my age. It's had many favourable reviews for its acting and scenery, except from a handful of people like me who tried it sight unseen and the wondered why they had after the first ten minutes. Perhaps the only reason to watch more is to find out if it improves after the first couple of episodes. Watching the brilliant 'Black Forest Murders' mini series yesterday spoiled me. It had elements of low key humour colouring the seriousness of the story, emerging from the relationships portrayed, but it told a real life story. 'Death Valley' is just fiction, somewhat divorced from grim reality. That's enough for now. Bed time already.

Exemplary collaboration

Another cloudy day, slightly warmer. It doesn't feel as if we're two weeks away from Midsummer day. In the news, a sailing boat carrying a token amount of aid for Gaza with twelve protesters has been detained by the Israeli navy and the activists deported. The intention was to draw attention to the siege of the territory and the starvation of Palestinians as an act of war. Incidentally it highlighted the fact that for the past twenty years, Palestinians have been denied control of Gazan coastal waters by Israel, part of its refusal to acknowledge Palestinian state sovereignty. 

Religious extremist Israeli nationalists are bent not just on seeing Hamas eliminated, but driving Palestinians out of the native land they have shared for millennia, selectively citing scripture as their mandate, defying international law and a balanced comprehensive interpretation of the foundation of a faith that upholds justice and equity. Fundamentalist fanaticism is once more demonstrating how toxic it is in the affairs of people and nations. Two ministers of Netanyahu's government have been sanctioned by the UK and five other nations for inciting violence against Gazans and advocating ethnic cleansing. The Israeli reaction has been vehemently condemnatory, and the spokesman interviewed on BBC news was highly aggressive, offensive and abusive towards the interviewer.

Clare went off to her study group in Penarth after breakfast. I waited in for handyman Suheil to arrive and measure up a section of garden wall where Clare wants to mount a new trellis for growing one of the climbing plants we bought from Pugh's Garden centre a few weeks ago. He arrived just before eleven, took measurements and soon left in a hurry. He's a busy man. Then I went to the shops as we needed plant milks and a few other things. I made a pasta dish for lunch with black beans and mushrooms in the sugo. Only recently did I try cooking with black beans for the first time. They have a good flavour, less bland than canelli or fava beans.

After lunch, I finished reading 'Sangre Nueva' and then went out and walked for an hour around Llandaff Fields and returned for a cup of tea before going out again and walking in Thompson's Park to complete my daily distance target. Clare had left for a meditation group session, so I had supper on my own. Then I found on iPlayer another German police mini series to watch called 'The Black Forest murders' or 'Spuren' auf Deutsch, a dramatised documentary telling the story of the year long real life enquiry into the murder of a young woman which turns out to be linked to similar cold case in neighbouring Austria. I watched all four episodes in one go, just under three hours, as it was such a compelling watch.

There's a certain genre of crimmie known as a 'police procedural'  in which the investigation is a context for stories told about investigators, witnesses, victims, and others impacted say a lot about the personalities and relationships of those involved. In this one, the detailed process of the investigation, the forensic science and legal scrutiny of the case are centre stage. You see the members of the investigative task force workers develop, how much of a collaborative and creative effort it is, and what authoritative quiet leadership from the Superintendent lead investigator looks like. 

There's nothing dull about this. No dramatic emotional scenes or side tracks, but glimpses of people working well together driving themselves close to exhaustion, surviving on takeaway food and so much  cake and biscuits. Patient, thorough, persistent team commitment. It's an inspiring example of real life collaborative working. 

Soup approval

Overcast with gusts of wind blowing from the west again, colder today with the sun struggling to penetrate the cloud. Housework after breakfast, then I made the slideshow to go with next week's Morning Prayer audio and uploaded the video to YouTube. Clare cooked lunch, and afterwards was taken by taxi to the School of Optometry to provide students an opportunity to practice using diagnostic instruments on a live glaucoma patient. 

I went to the Coop to buy chicken pieces which I slow-cooked in the oven when I got back. I also roasted the content of five heads of garlic, to use in another garlic soup experiment, along with the slow-cooked chicken stock, just for the pleasure of trying different recipe variations, thanks to the abundance of freshly picked garlic we have at the moment. Then a walk around Llandaff Fields for an hour, wishing I'd worn a top coat before returning to warm up.

Clare went out to choir practice and I finished watching 'West Wall' before supper. In the last episode the conspirators plan is thwarted with much dramatic violence that I was surprised the baddies and goodies survived until the happy ending despite their injuries. Despite the improbability of the plot, much of the story worked well as a mystery drama involving German state security and intelligence services and the police, though it's a bit difficult to identify which side the secretive operatives are on. In the end it turns out there's a neo-nazi 'mole' at work on behalf of a group of conspirators. Given the surviving baddie count the story ending proposes a second series, but there's no hint of this so far.

When Clare returned from choir practice she tried the sopa de ajo and this time it met with her approval. I look forward to trying it tomorrow.

I spent the evening after supper reading 'Sangre Nueva'. I only have the final chapter to read now. I don't have the other two parts of this saga, but I have two other thick novels waiting to be read, before I start looking.

Concerts come to Blackweir FIelds

Overcast again this morning, but the wind picked up and blew the clouds away by the afternoon. We went to the Eucharist at St Catherine's which included the baptism of a girl about eight years old in the service. There was a congregation of about fifty, half of whom were visitors. Some kind of event was being held in the church hall this afternoon. A Portacabin toilet trailer was parked on the grass next to the hall, which may have been for a wedding reception yesterday or for this afternoon's event. Refereshments were served in the Lady Chapel instead. We didn't stay, but returned home straight away for lunch.

I slept in the chair for over an hour after we'd eaten, and then harvested the blackberries which have been growing, so far un-noticed by the birds in a secluded corner of the garden. I then went out for a walk in Pontcanna Fields. Down by Blackweir Bridge a large notice informed park users of a series of summer pop concerts next month in the playing fields on the other side of the bridge, which are, I discovered, known as Blackweir Fields. 

On the far side, near North Road and the Ambulance Station is a small terrace of 19th century houses bearing the name Blackweir Cottage. They may have originally been labourers' dwellings rather than one house. The only headline performers' names I recognised were Stevie Wonder and Alanis Morisette. 

At the far end of Pontcanna Fields by the cricket ground there was a gathering of several hundred people gathered for a sporting awards presentation ceremony staged by 'Les Croupiers' running club. Quite an appropriate venue for such an event. 

When I got home the aroma of blackberry jam greeted me. Clare got to work while I was out preparing and cooking the three quarters of a pound of fruit I picked. Just three jars, but such a taste of summer that re-connects me with childhood. My Dad had blackberry bushes in our back garden veggie patch, and one of my tasks was picking them when I was a boy. 

After supper I spent the evening watching more episodes of 'West Wall' much of which is set in forest on the border between Belgium and Germany where the Siegfried Line ran. Most of its concrete defensive emplacements have long been demolished, except in the few places where they have been conserved since 1997 as a reminder of the cost in lives when it was being built by forced labour and then fought over. Up to that point it figured in neo-nazi propaganda as a reminder of past achievement. Thanks to conservation of structures the remains have become a haven for wildlife and unique biodiverse wilderness 'hot spots'. The drama centres around a neo-nazi terrorist cell that lives in the forest and uses a bunker complex as its arsenal. An unusual piece of fiction, to say the least.

Sharkiverse explored

Rain showers interspersed with sunshine from dawn until mid afternoon. Clare made breakfast pancakes before I surfaced from sleep. Neither of us ventured out in such uncertain weather. For lack of something to do, I started preparing next Wednesday's Morning Prayer and Reflection, and then we shared cooking lunch. I went for a walk in the parks after lunch, as the rain forecast amounted to little more than occasional light drizzle.

While I was out, Clare went out for a coffee with her friend Ruth. The house was quiet when I returned, so I recorded what I wrote earlier and edited it. Something useful achieved on a dull day without plans. After supper while I was cooking another variation of sopa de ajo, I listened to a laugh-out-loud podcast for movie buffs of Radio Four celebrating fifty years of shark themed scary and/or hilarious films featuring shark attack dramas. It was called 'Sharkiverse'. The original 'Jaws' remains the classic unmatched masterpiece of the genre, nothing else has been as successful, but the number of rip-off movies surprised me, plus the way phrases of dialogue from the original have inserted themselves into common discourse. Entertaining, also insightful.

Then I watched an episode of the German neo-nazi conspiracy crimmie called 'West Wall', or 'The New Front', which presents itself like a spy movies. There's only one word for it - intriguing. Then bed.

Chaos as a means to control

It rained in the night, but by the time I got up the sun was shining intermittently through the clouds. In the morning news, reports of a very public and acrimonious parting of the ways between Donald Trump and his key election finance backer  billionaire entrepreneur Elon Musk. It's been coming for some time with Musk withdrawing from his cost-cutting advisory role in the Trump government administration and becoming more critical of some of Trump's policy edicts. Musk's interference not mandated by election to office has aroused displeasure among American consumers and impacted on Tesla car sales and the value of his businesses. It was inevitable that he would disassociate himself from Trump, indeed now necessary if he's to focus on reviving his own fortunes. Trump's game playing over import tariffs has generated economic uncertainty worldwide, and has yet to show promised benefits to the American economy.

The American backed aid charity which has taken over a small fraction of the emergency aid distribution in Gaza ceased its operations pending a security review with the Israeli military. Some of its four centres have re-opened but not all of them. No new aid convoys have entered Gaza in days. A BBC investigative reported has found out that the somewhat shadowy origins of this aid foundation are in a Zionist Christian group, not exactly mainstream, and employing private security contractors for protection, all with Israeli approval. But that doesn't mean it's going to be easy working with the occupying forces. There have been disagreements, resignations and dismissals within the organisation already. All part of the chaos sown by the Netanyahu regime aimed at prolonging the war and preventing any resolution of the fundamental issue of Palestinian statehood.

Clare went to town after breakfast and I went for a circuit of Llandaff Fields before returning to make lunch, cooking a savoury veg dish with small black beans for a change. I used an entire head of the young garlic given me by green fingered Keith slicing the cloves in half and cooked into my savoury concoction, also a small spoonful of honey. An interesting experiment, not unpleasant.

I walked down Romilly crescent to the Tourotech shop to look at Davey's current display of used laptops, as I'm thinking of replacing the Honor laptop I've had for four years. Its headphone output is faulty, due to a loose connection on the motherboard, and its battery life is much reduced. Taking it apart to replace the battery and repair the faulty connection isn't impossible but in its earlier life it was dropped on one corner. The aluminium casing is pretty robust so it has worked as intended, but over the passage of time the audio output has become less reliable. There is a risk that opening the case to effect the repair might trigger hidden faults. For the total cost of repair, I can buy another used laptop just as capable of doing what I need one for. 

The Honor is a lovely device to use, apart from having its camera located on its keyboard. I only use a Windows device these days for video slideshow making, using a legacy version of the Photos app which is easy and well suited for this purpose. There's nothing similar to use on Linux, Chrome OS or Android devices unfortunately, so I need to keep just one Windows device for the job I do every week. I can manage with what I've got and put up with the occasional irritation until that day when it gives up the ghost probably without warning and when it's really inconvenient. So I pondered as I continued walking as far as Sophia Gardens before returning home, indecisive.

After supper I uploaded photos taken in the past few days then watched the last of the entertaining quirky funny, laid back French murder mystery cum rom-com series 'Panda'. Just when you think the protagonist is about to die he survives, recovers and finally has a love scene of sorts which the series has been building up to. IMDB reports a second series. Quite predictably, but it's not yet available having only been aired for the first time in January this year. Something to look forward to. And now to bed.

Journey in a rainstorm

Rain again in the night and grey skies with clouds on the move. It started to rain after breakfast and Roger called to ask if I could collect him from home nearby for our trip to Llangyfelach for Marlene's funeral. As we headed west making our way to the A4232 and then the M4 westwards, the rain increased in intensity, and the clouds blowing in from the west grew bigger and darker. By the time we passed the Llantrisant junction, visibility was down to 100 meters and remained like that for the next half hour or so. 

Keeping the windscreens from misting up was difficult. Although at 16C it wasn't all that cold, it was necessary to set the air conditioning system to an uncomfortable humid 20+C to ensure visibility. Going any faster than 50mph was unnecessary. Large lorries with better visibility swept past us and there was no need for us to overtake other cars.  The rain eased by the time we reached Port Talbot. We could see layers of cloud of different colours above us in the distance, but a bright blue band along the horizon to the west of Swansea. I was grateful to have coped well with such difficult driving conditions. If I'd known it would be like that, I would have been very nervous and reluctant to set out.

We arrived at Llangyfelach Parish Church without consulting google maps, at midday, relying on Paul's briefing about junction 46 and the location of the church up the hill to the west of the roundabout. The site is very ancient. St David is credited with starting a monastery in the sixth century on the hill side above the river Tawe, which gives the city of Swansea its Welsh name 'Abertawe'. The only trace of its ancient origin is an originally circular church boundary - a Llan in Welsh - not a defensive structure, however, but a hospitable place. The wall was built low, so that visitors could see and approach the settlement within it, or maybe just take a drink at one of the three wells around the periphery. Nothing is known about St Cyfelach for certain. His or her story is lost in the mists of time.

The 13th century tower is one of three in Wales standing on the hill above, separate from the present church building, which was originally a 14th century tithe barn. It was converted for use as a place of worship in 1850 as the ancient building perched on the side of the hill had been destroyed in the 18th century, though the tower survived. On what was once the village green, is the pub and church hall cum Sunday School building. The green is more of a car park for visitors and residents these days. A group of women were busy setting up tables for the reception after the service when we arrived to use the loo. We overheard them remembering Marlene telling stories and laughing with affection about the activities she shared with them in the church and local community for decades.

Father Anthony their Parish Priest was there checking with them that they had everything they needed. He welcomed me, and invited me to lead the intercessions he had prepared for Marlene's service. I spent some time in church, chatting with one of the wardens, and had a brief look around, greeting mourners starting to arrive, then I walked back up the hill to keep an eye out for Clive and Hilary, who were also making the journey from Cardiff for Marlene's farewell in her home church. I spotted a buzzard circulating above and then beneath the parapet of the church town. A brief burst of sunshine illuminated the colours in its wings, so beautiful and irridescent. I failed to get a photo. The TZ95 simply isn't as responsive as it needs to be in zoom mode, but never mind. It was an awesome moment, just like that afternoon a few years back when I saw a kingfisher perching on a branch a few metres away. A wonderful gift, so elusive.

There must have been 70-80 mourners for the service. The eulogy was longer than the liturgical content, not unusual these days, but Marlene's life story was a rich testimony to her character and a pastoral zeal as a very active church member devoted to hospitality and genuine interest in everyone she encountered in life. It fitted with what we knew of her in her latter years as a frail nonogenarian interested in everybody she met when she came to church, remembering details about them, asking questions. We from the church in Pontcanna shared the same experience of knowing her for a few years as those who had known her for decades. 

The entire congregation gathered in the church hall after saying farewell for a traditional feast of home made cake and sandwiches. Roger and I took our leave at three and were home by four, twenty minutes earlier than the outbound trip, as the rain had moved on to slow down travellers beyond South Wales. I went to Tesco's and bought a bottle of wine to enjoy when I write this. And then set about making sopa de  ajo, extracting the soft flesh from the garlic cloves I roasted yesterday, and adding them to some chicken stock and soya cream, which I then added to a fried onion with some ground almonds and fresh crushed garlic to cook and blend together, ready to serve. I didn't follow a detailed recipe as some ingredients I didn't have. It was an experiment with the main components I had to hand. It was mild and creamy to taste with a subtle aftertaste, a bit bland. It could have done with a more flavoursome stock. The only thing I didn't do was to chill a portion of it, to find out how it tasted. In Andalusia it's served cold, like gaspacho.

By the time I'd eaten and cleared up it was time for some fresh air before bed. A twilight walk in Llandaff Fields, with half the waxing moon veiled in haze in the heavens above. On the suite of games pitches nearest to Llandaff Road, thousands of gulls were perched on the grass, all in the one area, groups of them rising up and circulating, then settling again, heaven knows why. I clapped my hands and they all rose into the air and wheeled around  before settling again, so many of them filling the sky, it reminded of a host of bats leaving their roost at twilight, so many that they resemble a cloud of locusts or a sandstorm filling the sky. A wondrous way to end a memorable day.

Sopa de ajo

Cloud cover stirred by the breeze with sunshine breaking through again today. I woke up at seven fifteen and posted today's YouTube link to the WhatsApp daily prayer thread before getting up and putting my Fitbit on charge as its battery was nearly dead. It lasts just under 48 hours and timing a recharge during a period of inactivity is a bit tricky if I don't keep an eye on it.

Clare took a taxi to UHW for an eye check-up and left just as I was setting out for St Catherine's. There were eleven of us for the Eucharist. Baby Sebastian was brought by his visiting granny today, and we had a visitor for coffee afterwards in the person of Angela, a senior member of Conway Road Methodist Church, a friend of several of our church members. Ann and Paul were there ahead of her mother Marlene's funeral in Llangyfelach, giving us a briefing on finding her Parish church in the vicinity of Morriston Swansea. Four of us will be attending the service. Ann has asked me to lead the intercessions.

I collected this week's veggie bag from Chapter as usual. When I walk through on a Wednesday lunchtime there often seems to be a remarkable number of mothers with babies socialising in the main bar restaurant area or a group in a side room, with special event programmes geared up to their needs. Chapter is shortlisted for the 2025 Art Fund Museum of the Year award, not surprisingly as it incorporates a cinema, a theatre, art exhibition and music performance spaces, and sixty cultural work spaces, making full use of the old Canton High School buildings since 1971.

There's so much going on there we're hardly aware of, and said to be one of the largest centres of its kind in Europe, just ten minutes walk from home, and perhaps taken for granted until it's in line for a well publicised major award. Six years ago this award went to St Fagan's Museum of Welsh History. For a city to have two outstanding institutions win such acclaim within a decades is reason enough for civic pride.

Clare cooked prawns with rice, broad beans and mangetout peas for lunch. I helped with preparing the veg fresh from Coed Hill Market Garden which I brought home. I met Green fingered Keith on my way back and he gave me a large bunch of freshly picked garlic bulbs from his allotment. He had offered them to others who politely declined. They needed to have roots and shoots removed and cleaned up before they could go in the fridge, which I didn't mind doing. It gives me an opportunity to look up a recipe for sopa de ajo, and experiment with preserving some of them too.

The head of the International Red Cross has spoken about the moral outrage of the treatment of civilians in Gaza, appealing to the community of nations to recognise the dehumanisation of the population by the way the Israeli government's has waged war against Hamas, barring accredited humanitarian agencies from entering the territory and delivering aid to people, totally contrary to international law. It remains to be seen what action the international community of nations will take in response.

After a trip to Tesco's for a few food items we needed, I went out again for a walk in the park, but the wind was strong across Llandaff Fields, so I walked round the streets to avoid the wind instead. After supper I peeled three heads of garlic to yield thirty cloves for roasting in olive oil, following a recipe downloaded after a google search. The roasted garlic needs to be pureed when cool and added to the rest of the soup of onions, potato, chicken stock, almond milk and soya cream, which I'll make tomorrow. Hopefully it'll be a tasty experiment!

We watched 'The Repair Shop' together. Then I read 'Sangre Nueva for an hour before attempting to get an early night. I must be up and ready to drive to Swansea by mid-morning tomorrow and am not much good if I don't sleep well. It seems to be a matter of change whether I do or don't, unfortunately these days.