Cloudy today with occasional sunshine. Overnight news of a failed assassination attempt on Trump at a Press Association banquet in Washington. He tried to shoot his way into the lobby of the banqueting hall where security credentials were to be inspected. It happened in the same Hilton hotel where an attempt was made on the life of Ronald Reagan in 1981. The perpetrator had actually stayed overnight in the hotel beforehand, having travelled by train to Washington from California heavily armed. The story is so crazy it sounds as if it could have been written for a comic book. Trump thinks (or maybe hopes) it is, as he declares a crazy lone actor stopped by brave Secret Service agents putting their lives on the line. With so many reputable journalists witnessing the scene, this cannot be dismissed as fake news, but it's the second time in Trump's regime than an assassination attempt has been made against him. So much of his rhetoric is violent in character, is he becoming a magnet for political violence himself?
I slept fairly well and woke up slowly. I was quite clear headed when I eventually got up for breakfast just before nine. I went on my own to the St Catherine's Eucharist, as Clare decided to attend the afternoon Welsh Eucharist instead. Jeremy our ordinand on placement in the Parish is coming to the end of his stay with us. He worked with the half dozen children of Sunday Club and with them gave a cute presentation on Jesus the Good Shepherd to the forty strong congregation after Communion. One of the congregation's teenage Girl Scouts spoke to the congregation about being chosen to attend the 26th World Jamboree next year in Gdansk. She's raising her own funds to cover the cost and held a little sale during the coffee and chat session that followed.
The sun was out for long enough for us to have lunch in the garden. Then the sky clouded over, so we did the washing up and siesta'd in our arm chairs until it was time for Clare to leave for church. Then, I walked and Llandaff and Pontcanna Fields, down to the Taff and back. In places where tents and walkways were installed for last week's Urdd rugby tournament, oblong patches of bleached grass stood out against their rich green grass surroundings. Crows and gulls seemed particularly drawn to these patches, perhaps because of a potential feast of worms or insects surfacing in the absence of sunlight. A curious sight.
Despite my legs taking their time warming up slowly to the task of keeping me on my feet, I walked for an hour and a half and completed my daily step quota which I wasn't able to, the last couple of days when gut spasms laid me low and I needed to do less and recover. There's more early cherry blossom decorating the fringes of footpaths than there is on trees which have burst into the leaf quickly this week. May-trees and starting to blossom and there are other white flowers coming out on the river bank I can't identify. All are early, due to climate change, but lovely to look at and photograph.
In today's London Marathon a couple of runners achieved for the first time the extraordinary feat of completing the course in two hours. It's as significant as the day I remember well when I was a nine year old boy, when Roger Bannister ran the world's first four minute mile.
I spent the evening writing a review of my first six months since the stroke, to send to Consultant Tom Hughes before I see him in the coming week. Rachel called and we had a brief catch-up chat before I had to admit to her that I needed to get to bed.
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