Fine weather doesn't last long. It's a return to low cloud with the prospect of drizzle again today. Last night the death of Iran's supreme leader Khamenei, along with several other key regime figures in an air strike was reported. In Iran while some crowds are mourning, other crowds are rejoicing. Retaliatory air strikes on Israel and on Arab cities in the Gulf continue relentlessly. Iranian military targets are being bombarded with the aim of countering the aggression. Trump is calling for regime change now that the supreme leader's cruel dictatorship has ended, but a dictatorship is more than one man.
Iranian religious and political leaders rely on resistance against common enemies. It's in their interests to maintain a brutal authoritarian status quo. Regime opponents are far from united - patriotic monarchists, secular, democrats, pro and anti-America, Islamist extremists. What kind of reforming regime can succeed in guiding the country post-war towards a consensus about the nation's future? Meanwhile the corrupt elite of the revolutionary guard will do everything it can to maintain control in the face of chaos. If eliminated, who knows what kind of violent internal power struggle will be unleashed?
Attacks on neighbouring Arab states and their response produces another measure of uncertainty. Iran has closed the Straits of Hormuz to traffic. One tanker has already been attacked. Twenty per cent of the global oil supply passes through the straits. This will have far reaching negative impact on the world economy. Has Trump waged war without thinking through the consequences, both immediate and long term?
I slept fairly well despite the usual bladder disruptions. I was fairly clear headed and sharp when I got up and took my blood pressure tablet. Inevitably it made me light headed, but without the toxic impact or drowsiness that has plagued me for so long. This made it easier for me to get ready for church and get there on time for a Lenten celebration of St David's Day. Some of the little girls in Sunday Club came dressed in traditional Welsh hats. One of the younger teenage girls read a lesson beautifully. We defied liturgical tradition by singing the Gloria in Lent. I don't know what Dewi Sant would make of this. Celtic liturgical practice may have been varied locally in any case.
We sang several traditional roof-raising Welsh hymns. Calon Lan proved to be difficult if you didn't know it by heart, as the text on the bilingual hymn sheet was tiny and laid out in a way that was confusing to read. This was reflected in subdued singing from those who, like me, had never memorised it. In contrast, the English rendition of 'Cwm Rhondda' was loud and lusty. I got back home before Clare after the service and prepared the veggies and Salmon for cooking.
I didn't feel I needed a snooze after lunch and wrote for a while before walking in Llandaff Fields for an hour and a quarter. Daffodils are blossoming in abundance, and the first Celandines are catching up. I took a few pictures to send to cousin Dianne in memory of my Godmother, Auntie Celandine.
I felt quite tired towards the end of the walk, maybe because I didn't have a rest earlier. I can put up with the blood pressure medication making me feel light headed and even tired when I don't experience the intoxication that seems to be produced by the statins.
After an early supper, Clare went to a concert given by the Welsh language band 'Brigyn' at St John's. I didn't fancy an evening of amplified music. Apart from the loudness, it's not my kind of music and my Welsh isn't good enough to follow. Clare returned half an hour later, disappointed because she got the date of the concert wrong. It was yesterday. We then sat side by side listening to different programmes through headphones on laptops. A weird opera in Welsh for Clare, and a second series of 'Casi de Teresa Battaglia', set in Udine for me. It's the first time we did that, I think.
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