Such a simple solution

More rain overnight, and an unseasonal thirteen degrees for most of the day, although it rained very little. It took a while to get going this morning, and by the time we'd had breakfast done the weekly housework chores, prepared the service for tomorrow morning's funeral, and paid the water rates bill on-line, it was time to cook lunch.

I called my sister June to check out how she's coping, as her heating system shut down on Friday and she's spent the last two days in her flat at seventeen degrees when she's used to twenty five plus. British Gas did not consider her to be a priority, and I'm troubled about that, but this is a time of year when central heating systems get more than usual usage and tend to break down. She's had so much trouble since a new Vaillant boiler with a Hive thermostat was installed, with an assortment of faults and complete failure on the part of gas engineers visiting to make sure she understood their user explanations before leaving. I thought the hive might be faulty, but it seems not, on the surface. 

Then it occurred to me this morning that the fault may lie with the digital mechanism controlling the boiler itself. As it communicates via a wi-fi link, I thought the fault might be as simple as a network systems crash. I said the one thing to her than nobody on any help line had thought of saying at any time "Have you tried switching the power off and on again." No she hadn't, and promised to do so. Later I received a delighted email to say the boiler was working again and the radiators were heating up as they should. Such a simple thing. A hard reboot of the boiler operating system was all it took. Why did nobody think of that before? 

After lunch a walk in the park for an hour and a half, and after supper, more Rocco Schiavone episodes to while away a dark evening before bed.

On the verge of Christmas.

After six hours sleep and breakfast, we drove home practicing the anthem 'And the glory of the Lord' from the Messiah, by singing along to it on YouTube in the car. After a late lunch, we collected our Christmas veggie bag and groceries. We were due at St Catherine's for a four thirty choir rehearsal ahead of a six o'clock Nine Lessons and Carol service. With all the rushing around we were both dog tired, and gave it our best effort, but three hours of singing felt more like an ordeal than a celebration. 

A hundred adults and children turned up and the choir was double its usual numbers. Considering how under-rehearsed it was, the service went quite well, driven by Colin our director of music and organist at a brisk pace. Children were supposed to sing at the crib, but I'm not sure if many did, they were so quiet and just stared at the congregation, as if they were in a Nativity tableau. It might have been easier if they'd been encouraged to turn to the crib behind them. Room for improvement here for next year.

I couldn't help wondering about the spread of the omicron covid variant. Apart from the kids, everyone in church was masked, apart from choristers when singing, socially distanced, sort of. It seems however, that Wales infections are still predominantly the delta variant which hasn't yet been swamped by omicron. There are more new restrictions on public events and advice about domestic social mixing from Welsh First Minister Mark Drakeford, much clearer than the English government's comparatively muddled messaging. This won't have much impact on the majority of Christmas family gatherings. Use of lateral flow tests is recommended as a precaution, although there had been some supply issues, as the demand is naturally very high.

Today after three weeks of set-backs is having her engineer broken gas central heating boiler replaced at last. The incompetence with which British Gas dealt with her plight until she kicked up a rumpus is truly phenomenal. The equipment is being installed, but will anyone explain to her exactly and in detail how it works, and most importantly, can be controlled?

Yesterday night I received an email request to provide a job reference for Rufus, and drafted this after returning from the carol service, although I would preferred to go to bed early, but promised to deliver by tomorrow. I needed a brisk walk in the dark to rid myself of accumulated tension before turning in. Singing in the Parish Carol service after driving home with no respite in between was pretty exhausting. To be avoided with better planning in future. Christmas hasn't started yet.

Another Covid Winter Solstice

Already the shortest day is here, overshadowed by low cloud, and colder than it has been for the past few days. It'll take a month before it gets noticeably lighter in the afternoon, but at least the journey back to evening sunsets starts now.

Restrictions are now being imposed on crowd attendances at sporting events in an effort to slow down the spread of the omicron variant of covid19 and consequently reduce the rise in hospital admissions. Nothing is being said about theatre audiences yet, that would lead to the cancellation of tomorrow night's Carnival Band Christmas concert in Birmingham. We're driving to Kenilworth after Mass tomorrow to rendezvous with Kath and travel to the performance, in which both of them are singing. I admit that I'm nervous about it, given the number of commitments I have in the days following.

An email came from Montreux, from the family of Geoff Fookes, a long standing member of the St John's congregation to say that he'd died. His funeral is tomorrow, and can be watched on-line, though sadly we will be travelling when it's live streamed from the church. I first met Geoff and his wife Joy at Swiss Archdeaconry events while I was chaplain in Geneva twenty five years ago. When I did locum duties in Territet, Geoff would come to the 10.00am BCP midweek Communion service with his beautiful golden retriever, and sometimes that was all the congregation I had. It was only a few days ago that I emailed them my Christmas Greeting and Letter.

They welcomed me at their lakeside apartment,  for drinks and for supper during my stays there, and it was through Joy, an ex-nurse that I found a GP clinic where my abscess was diagnosed. Looking back in my blog and reading about those days in early September three years ago reminded me forcibly of how ill I was, striving to complete my tour of duty and not cause upheaval for the churchwardens. It awakened distressing feelings, as much physical as emotional which I found can only be dispersed by a good walk.

Before lunch I walked over to Lidl's in Leckwith to get some replacement packs of walnuts, as we use a lot of them, and I want to make a turkey stuffing using walnuts and apricots. Then I walked in Llandaff Fields for an hour, as the sun was setting which made me feel better.

My sister June has had heating troubles in her apartment for some weeks as a result of a botched routine servicing job. She was persuaded, perhaps un-necessarily into replacing her boiler for a more economical and eco-friendly unit, and after more administrative muddles and delay, this was delivered today with an appointment to install it tomorrow. 

Then, British Gas contacted her to say the engineer booked was off sick with covid. Scaffolding is required by Health and Safety rules to fix the new gas exhaust pipe into the wall at the back of the property, even though the job could be done with a ladder. Scaffolders now have too be cancelled and re-booked for a date when a fit engineer is available. You couldn't make it up, it's so crazy - no hot water or heating for weeks on end and not June's fault, but a British Gas engineer's. A disgrace.