Epiphany confusion

Yesterday I had a sermon to write, and documents to prepare with photocopies of my passport and driving license, which can be verified as copies by an office holder's signature, GPs and clerics do this. I have often done it for others, but this time I must get someone to do it for me. Fr Rhys has agreed to. He's a GP and a cleric! The point of the exercise is to have an identity document to send to the Spanish police database to secure an official certificate stating that I have no criminal convictions in Spain. This is necessary to renew my European Permission to Officiate. 

It's a fiddly task which has to be perfectly correct to succeed, and that makes me nervous, even though I know there's nothing to worry about, as there's nothing to find. The trouble is, I don't trust anybody's big information systems, as none of them can be absolutely error free. It's one of the obstacles of modern life that has to be lived with.

My afternoon walk took me past Tesco Extra on Western Avenue. The stretch of woodland behind the store a few years ago hosted a huge flock of starlings, which came to roost there at sunset. These have been supplanted by a huge flock of crows. I have never seen so many in one place, hundreds of them. Alarm calls from birds overhead caught my attention. I looked up and saw several crows attacking a couple of starlings, driving them away from the roost which used to be theirs. People can behave like that too, if they think they have the numbers or strength. We're no better.

I spent several hours writing my novel until late, taking time off just to watch this week's double episode of 'Wisting' on BBC Four. Although this is the first time it's been screened in the UK, the plot has an air of déja-vu about it. It's worth watching for its backdrop of Norwegian winter landscape, but part of the entertainment is predicting twists in the story-line.

I was thankful for a later start this morning celebrating the Eucharist of the Baptism of Christ at St Paul's Grangetown at ten thirty this morning. There was a certain confusion about whether Epiphany ended last Sunday or ends today and Ordinary Time (changing to green liturgical décor) begins. I regret that lectionary revision fifty years ago didn't keep the rest of January as time 'after Epiphany', up until Candlemass. Just because the Roman Catholic church does Ordinary Time is no justification for everyone else to do it.

Clare had her monthly afternoon study group so we had an early lunch. This meant I could get out for longer walk and went up the Taff Trail to the top end of Hailey Park in Llandaff North and back, six miles in two hours. It's great to be able to do that and still have energy to spend hours writing.

We watched this evening's  the second episode of 'Doctor Who'. The goobledgook sci-fi content is barely intelligible let alone credible, but it was good to see Sir Lennie Henry again, playing a baddie whose tech genius dominates and controls the internet using 'big data' harvested from people's personal web accounts. He had some rather good lines, much closer to contemporary truth than any of the sci-fi. Then, more novel writing until late. I've gained a good deal of plot momentum this weekend, but the end is not quite in sight yet.

Binge watching

I slept well, perhaps a little more relaxed and at ease with myself following my afternoon in the hospital surgical assessment unit. I caught up on some writing and finished off getting the Christmas cards ready for the post box. I didn't take them out as it rained all day and I didn't want them to get wet, but I went out for a walk around Pontcanna Fields in any case, and got wet. There was a mild but strong breeze blowing as well, and the exercise invigorated me. Clare got back from Bristol just before I reached home, feeling the effects of a dodgy tummy after eating a takeaway meal with rice last night, so we didn't get around to eating together.

I caught up the fifth episode of Doctor Who on iPlayer, finding Jodie Foster's take on the role interesting to see develop through the series as far as I've got. The storylines are promising but fall down, as much of the dialogue is gobbledegook, delivered too fast. It's full of implausible ideas with a few thoughtful ones thrown in occasionally for good measure. OK, sci-fi requires suspension of disbelief to succeed in engaging and stimulating the imagination, but when it's just ridiculous and confusing, you end up wondering why you bothered to watch it. Once more the ending of the tale was rushed. Is this kids TV written with adults in mind, or adult TV with kids in mind? I believe there are generations of older fans who grew up with Dr Who, so it has as many if not more adult viewers than children, like comic superhero fantasy figures, but is it really worth the mental effort, trying to keep up with it?

Last weekend saw the start of a new American psychological crimmie called 'The Sinner' on BBC Four, while we were dining out at Stefanos. I caught up with episodes one and two tonight before watching episodes three and four. Although that meant three hours continuous watching a slow developing plot, it held my interest and attention throughout. It revealed the hidden life of an vulnerable young woman, kidnapped and drugged for sex and exposed to violence in two months of her life which she cannot remember. In a tragic incident of post- traumatic stress disorder psychosis, she kills someone and admits her guilt although she has no idea why she did it. She has however regarded herself as 'a sinner' since childhood due to an emotionally abusive childhood in a pious family with a toxic spirituality. She'd been sinned against all her life, yet felt nothing but guilt. It's a sadly familiar story, coming to light in our times for women and men from religious homes. It's quite chastening to watch.