Outreach from RWCMD

Overcast and raining this morning. I posted today's Morning Prayer YouTube link to WhatsApp just before 'Thought for the Day' and dozed until half past eight with the news on in the background, and then got up. After breakfast, I completed next week's Morning Prayer video and uploaded it. 

Chicken with chorizo for my lunch. Clare had salmon. We had an invitation to 'Connect' event at RWCMD mid-afternoon in which staff presented various aspects of the College's work with its 900 students - actors, musicians, composers, singers, conductors, stage and costume designers with a drink and a scone in the foyer to finish. It was still raining as we set out, and dauntingly few buses into town, so we walked. I took  a route that offered the shortest direction with optimal tree cover, but was soaked by the time we arrived.

The presentations were interesting and inspiring, though music for the introductory video was painfully loud. Katie Bartels the 2024 Stoutzker prizewinner, played two remarkable and technically difficult pieces on the flute to top and tail the presentations. A phenomenal young virtuoso. It was marvellous to learn of the range of College community projects providing opportunities for students to work with performing artists in residential workshops and events, practising the artistic disciplines with which they hope to earn a living after graduation.

By tea time it had stopped raining, so we were able to re-trace our steps across Bute Park and up through Pontcanna Fields back home in time for supper. Before we went out earlier I checked my Panasonic TZ95 and found it wouldn't switch on when I wanted to take a photo of a large bird on a TV antenna on the other side of the street. There wasn't time to investigate the reason, so I grabbed my battered Sony HX90 and used it instead. I don't use it much nowadays, but the battery hasn't lost charge. The first thing to do when we got back was put the TZ95 on charge, leave it for a while, then try switching it on. Panic over. The battery had been totally flat.

A few days ago one of my Olympus cameras needed recharging as well, and this I did, forgetting that I had another in need of a re-charge too. Slowly I've got used to the TZ95 and its peculiarities, still on automatic settings. Its extensive manual options are still beyond me, but it gives me some good results, now that I've learned to use the viewfinder without altering the focal point on the touch screen with the tip of my nose.

This evening, I went for a walk after dark in the park to complete my daily quota and get a breath of fresh air. The rain had ceased and a warm wind was blowing, such a change after a wet afternoon. Before I went out I found that Channel 4's Walter Presents is now showing a second series of the excellent 'Lolita Lobosco' stories. I couldn't resist watching the first episode before going to bed. Late again.

Afternoon musical extravaganza

Another wet night and overcast start to the day, with the sun peeping through mid morning. There was a news report this morning with photos taken across Wales of yesterday's cloudy sky in the hour before the sun set, in pale purple and pinkish hues. I noticed this when I was out walking in the park, and supposed it was something to do with the layer of clouds right above not being very thick so that the bright orange and red light from the sun on the far horizon was diffusing through the low layer. Unusual I thought though not exceptional, and didn't bother to take a picture as the colour wasn't that intense, seen from Llandaff Fields. It seems however, that it was an uncommon phenomenon produced when atmospheric dust acquires a film of water from cold air saturated with humidity. This catches the light and diffuses it, giving the clouds an unusual tint.

I had another nose bleed in the night and slept until half past eight. I did some more work on my Sunday sermon after breakfast. I thought scrutinised my reasons for exchanging my laptop, and decided against it. The Dell I had my eyes on is larger and heavier as my Honor laptop, and not as easy to carry abroad with me. Google informed me that it was possible to buy a replacement batter, should the existing one becomes too weak for practical purposes. Before lunch I went and had a chat with Davey at Tourotech, to tell him I'm not ready to made an exchange yet. He told me that he'd be willing to acquire a new battery and install it for me in due course.

We ate a snack lunch early so we could walk to the Royal Welsh College for the afternoon performance of the College students annual musical theatre show 'Christmas on Broadway', a superb showcase of song and dance routines with seventeen students and a big band of over fifteen, including a string quartet. It was a most enjoyable two hours, superbly arranged and brimming with youthful energy. We went straight home afterwards, as it was getting dark, then watched 'Amser Jazz' live Christmas session on the RWCMD YouTube channel while we had supper.

I worked on another Morning Prayer and Reflection afterwards, then watched another couple of episodes of 'Off Grid' before turning in for the night.

Unique operatic celebration at RWCMD

I woke late having slept well on another cold night, thanks to having worn a long sleeved thermal vest in bed for the first time. It makes enough of a difference to persuade me to do this again. More positive news from Gaza with a further extension of the temporary truce being mooted by Hamas. If both sides take more time to take stock during the lengthening pause maybe it will awaken a realisation of the terrible things both side have done, how it's nowhere near working out a practical long term solution to the historic problem of sharing the land between two peoples with a deep rooted sense of belonging in the Holy Land.

As an experiment, I added chorizo to my regular breakfast diet. I eat enough to see me through until lunch time but often feel light headed an hour and a half before lunch, without feeling hungry. I wanted to see if it would make any difference to eat some meaty protein. I rarely have a full English breakfast, as it's too much hassle to prepare at the start of a day. A chunk of chorizo the length of my thumb worked well, carrying me through comfortably to a lunch of grilled mackerel. Another thing worth repeating. I like our vegetarian/vegan diet but my digestive system evidently works better with a little extra meat or fish.

More info arrived for posting on Sway, and I did this before heading to St Catherine's to celebrate Mass with seven others, standing in again for Fr Dyfrig. After coffee and a chat, I collected this week's veggie bag from Chapter on my way home for lunch. After eating I exchanged messages with my sister whose landline has stopped working. There's something wrong outside her flat, at the distribution box at street level, where work was being carried out by OpenReach recently. Some careless engineer left the cabinet door open, and her line hasn't been right since. She's now in need of a crash course in using WhatsApp on both mobile phone and tablet. 

I went out and did my weekly Co-op grocery shopping, then Clare did her shopping at Beanfreaks. Basma emailed to say she was happy with my account of her story, and that enabled me to use this in a witness statement to inform her solicitor, and add to the documents to be presented for the hearing of her case at an immigration tribunal, if this turns out to be useful asset. Then I emailed a copy of this to Fr Stewart, for information when he comes to write his own statement of support, and endorsing mine. The judges need to know that church leaders and members are agreed about her commitment. 

In the late evening a message arrived from Basma rejoicing that her daughter has now received her UK travel document which will enable her to travel and visit her grandparents who are, I believe in Jordan. I hope she is able to continue to obtain full UK citizenship in whatever time this takes especially as she has no intention of ever returning to her native Iraq.

We needed to have an early supper before walking to the Royal Welsh College for this year's Opera Gala performance, in which the entire college takes part - some 17 singers performing a wide ranging programme of solos, and ensemble pieces for two three four, even six singers on stage, and a chorus of forty up in the gallery, not only singing but doing so with choreographed arm waving for added effect. They were accompanied by the WNO orchestra on stage, conducted energetically by James Southall, who was a delight to watch, as he participated in some of the scenes by his body language and gestures, adding to the humour of the piece.

In several items performed, there was no pause between one and another, continuity maintained by one of the singers remaining on stage, and switching role when joined by a new group of performers. This was effortlessly smooth in execution, like a well edited mix-tape programme. I've never heard or seen anything like this live on an opera stage before. An utterly brilliant production. After the final applause we drifted out on cloud nine with delight, and walked all the way home in the chilly night air. It was just too cold to stand and wait for the bus. I've walked 14km today, the longest distance covered since I was in Ibiza, just after lockdown started in 2020. I'll sleep well tonight.

Klezmer discovered

I woke up to a cold dry day with early cloud dispersing, to give us a day of sunshine at 3C. I spent all the morning after breakfast working on Sway. It's occupying a lot of my time at the moment to produce the extra edition that covers the whole of December. I hope it will be worth the effort to digital consumers. It was a pleasure to receive from Andrew, one of St John's lay leaders, a poster advertising an Advent study course to be conducted as a Zoom discussion group. A marvellous initiative, as we await the coming of a new Ministry Area Leader. The go-ahead has now been given officially to deliver a message from the Bishop to all the congregations of the Ministry Area this Sunday.

Clare bought a salmon yesterday, had it filleted and made the remnants of the bones into a soup that could be stewed with vegetables and butter beans, to make a subtly flavoured dish for lunch. After eating, I set about preparing texts for the first Advent Thursday Morning Prayer the week after next. Then Clare went out shopping so I recorded the Office and Reflection while I had the house to myself, and found images for video slideshow making, ready to finish the job when I have a spare moment. I need to get as much material prepared well in advance, as I can since there are always unexpected distractions in this busy season of the year.

I worked on this until it was time for an early supper. We had tickets for a concert at the Royal Welsh College by Kroke, an unusual trio of virtuoso Polish musicians who have worked together for 21 years, playing a classic combination of instruments used in Jewish Klezmer instrumental music: viola, double bass and accordion. 'Kroke' is Yiddish for Cracow, the name of their home town. Their music initially sounds like traditional klezmer, associated mainly with Eastern European Sephardi Judaism, which had its ancient origins in Andalusia, where its music evolved, influenced by North African culture. After the  fifteenth century reconquest of Spain Muslims and Jews were driven out of Spain. By various migration routes Sephardi Judaism found its way into various parts of Europe and Asia. Influences on melody, rhythms and harmony from all around the southern Mediterranean and Western Asia can be detected. It's a tribute to the international concert touring of this group over the years and their dialogue with indigenous musicians.

It starts from there, but draws inspiration from the music of India, Greece, North Africa and Andalusia, breathing vital energy, making remarkably creative live use of digital technology: echo, reverb, loop pedal, beat boxing, and a device that makes a viola's lower notes sound like a 'cello. Careful amplification brings out wonderful living breathing sounds and rhythms from the accordion too. Both viola and accordion were also used as drums duetting with the bass. The viola player also played tin whistle and sang in a very high full throated voice, reminiscent of Indian and Flamenco vocalists. 

All in all this music imparted a profoundly emotional experience, full of yearning, wonder and delight. We came home much moved by listening to live music, new to us both, brimming with spiritual vitality and hope for humanity. "The world will be saved by beauty." wrote Russian novelist Dostoyevsky back in 1867. I believe that only becomes possible once humanity tires of ugliness and cruelty and all things that divide us.

I finished the day with half hour walking in the darkness of the park, with the temperature below zero. I needed to stretch my legs and immerse myself in darkness, after going through the city centre in an environment invaded by bright headlights and flashing  multi-coloured Christmas illuminations.

Flamenco at RWCMD

After a night of rain, lower temperature and disturbed sleep, followed by sunny autumnal morning. We had waffles for breakfast and then I slept again for over an hour. Today is the St Catherine's Autumn Fayre, but we had to miss it due to an afternoon concert at the Royal Welsh College, so Clare took the jars of crab apple and grape jelly we made a couple of weeks ago to the church hall. Fascinating to think that the grapes came from the yard of the Robin Hood pub, and the crab apples from the tree in the churchyard garden, within a hundred yards of each other. Food with a provenance, and zero food miles!

After an early lunch, I completed tomorrow's sermon, then we walked to the Royal Welsh College for  matinée performance of a show called 'Art of Believing' presented by a young Flamenco guitar virtuoso Daniel Martinez with an ensemble which of two singers, a dancer, a violinist, another guitarist and a cajón percussionist. It was an astounding performance mixing traditional forms and measures with compositions by Martinez himself, delivered with energy, embracing the joy and agony of cante jondo. 

The Dora Stutzker auditorium was almost full with a noticeably ageing audience expressing enthusiasm and delight for the music, with two standing ovations at the end. What a treat! On our way out we bought a CD of the music performed. Pleased to know they'll be returning with a new show next March. It seems the group are living and touring in Britain at the moment. This experience certainly awakened in me a sense of hiraeth - but for Spain, rather than my motherland. I do hope I get another opportunity for locum duty in Spain next year. I could do with a change of scene after such a long spell of vacancy duties here.

We returned home on the bus, and after a drink and a piece of choccy cake, I went for a walk in the park as the sun was setting. It's chilly tonight, seven degrees. So far the ambient temperature of the house hasn't dropped enough for us to need to use the central heating - thanks to the longer spell of warm weather since the end of August. 

After supper I watched another slow moving episode of 'The Fall', then printed tomorrow's sermon and headed for bed early. I've not had much of a reaction to yesterday's 'flu jab, except for feeling the need for more sleep, even though I'm not physically tired.

Sway challenge

I woke up to sunshine just in time for 'Thought for the Day'. After breakfast, a walk to St Catherine's to celebrate the Eucharist of St Tydful's day with ten others wondering with them if this Celtic saint about whom next to nothing is known, except that she was a princess who was murdered in a fifth century war between pagan and Christian tribes. We know only of her death and burial in an unknown location at the head of the Taff Vale, where some time later a village sprang up bearing the name Merthyr Tydful. There's no story told of defiant heroism witnessing to her faith, as is the case of most early Christian martyrs, by her name persists a yet another testimony to the brutality of violence against women down the ages.

After coffee and chat, a walk over to Chapter to collect this week's veggy bag then home to cook lunch in time for Clare's return from a visit to the Royal Welsh College to buy tickets for five different shows there over the next three months. Then I needed to collect my summer jacket from the cleaners on Cowbridge Road, and decided to continue a small errand started earlier at St Catherine's, taking photos of the three Canton Churches to turn into a banner image to use for the Sway publication. Fortunately I have keys for all three churches.

Before going to St John's, I called into Tesco's and bought this week's Foodbank contributions to leave in church. After opening a couple of visitors from Pontarddulais came into church to look around. They said their son lived nearby, and although they'd visited him before they'd not found the church open. I'd already taken the photos I needed, and sat quietly while they had a good look around. A group of young pilgrims from Germany are stopping over in the church at them moment. The Lady Chapel chairs had been removed and the floor was covered in sleeping bags. A special meal was laid on for them tonight after time of worship streamed on-line, which I didn't get around to watching as I was busy with Sway.

Next, I took a bus to Victoria Park and let myself into St Luke's to take a few photos there as well, then took another bus back to get to the cleaners and pick up my jacket before returning home. Inside the bus shelter by the park, I noticed that a new improved LCD display bus timetable had been introduced. I've seen these elsewhere, but the roll-out across the city has been slow. I wonder if the network carrying the real-time data to the display is an improvement on the former unreliable device? We'll see.

Having collected my newly cleaned coat, my first task when I got home was to edit the photos and make a collage of church exterior images. Back in the days of the Picasa desktop app this was straightforward, but its successor Google Photos produced a non-editable collage which for my purposes was useless. I had to resort to making a presentation slide with Libre Office Impress and converting it a jpeg file which would fit where I wanted it in Sway. This was what Google photos wouldn't do.

Doing this, and completing this week's edition ready for distribution took me a couple of hours before supper and an hour afterwards as well, but not before I'd made a batch of bread dough ready for baking. Two loaves were cooked and filling the house with their aroma by the time I'd finished by digital labour.

All I need to be fully operational is access to the Parish Mail Chimp email list. It's been quite a lot of work learning a new tool and producing with it these past few days. Time to turn in already.

Unique guitar concert

Clouds and intermittent rain for most of the day. Clare's study group arrived mid morning. I didn't fancy going out in the rain, so I stayed in the front room out of the way, read and started work on next Sunday's sermon until they left. 

Then it was time for a light lunch and early departure for the Royal Welsh College, where we were invited to the Principal's Tea for Connect supporters. A cuppa and cake with a clarinet trio playing in the background. Then a speech by the Principal, Helena Gaunt about the life of the College and its students, and the big announcement of the College taking a 99 year lease from the City Council for the Old Library in the city centre, at the far end of the churchyard garden from St John's City Parish Church. It will be used as a place for performance, rehearsal, lectures showcasing the work of the College to visitors and citizens alike. At last a really worthwhile use for the whole of this landmark listed Victorian building! 

The Tea concluded with an impressive performance by post graduate percussionist playing the Marimba, using its subtle tones and dynamics in a way that compelled me to listen attentively. Then we walked back home across Bute Park and Pontcanna Fields, thankfully without being rained upon.

After supper, I took the 18 bus from Cowbridge Road East to 'The Res', for a concert by the City of Cardiff Symphony Orchestra, a group of sixty plus amateur musicians of which Jan the Vicar is a member. The orchestra filled the choir, sanctuary and side aisles it was so big, and when it played the first piece I found it deafeningly loud, but where I was seated, I was hemmed in. The acoustic echo of the building is about a second long, making it difficult for everyone to hear each other, a conductor's nightmare. Loud ensemble sections were coherent enough, and made the church seem as if it were four times the size, due to the echo. In gentler, harmonically fine grained sections, the difficulty in retaining cohesion showed.

I went to the concert because the highlight of the evening was a rare performance of Rodrigo's Concierto Andaluz para Cuatro Guitarras, something I'd never heard before. The guitarristas were four Royal Welsh College students, who performed superbly, bright eyed, smiling with pleasure, and had two encores to themselves. As an interval followed after this piece, I decided to leave, as my ears had taken as much as I felt I could cope with for one night. Within five minutes a 17 bus arrived, and I was home by a quarter to ten playing a YouTube recording of the Concierto to Clare from my phone. It was good to have seen Jan and Peter, and have a brief sharing of concerns about how the Ministry Area is going to cope after Frances leaves. We're agreed that an interim Minister is needed to cope with some complex management issues in the MA, but how to convince the hierarchy it's urgent and necessary? 

Time for bed already.

Hairdo time

A cooler cloudy day today, but quite pleasant nevertheless. After breakfast, I drove over  to the University School of Optometry to collect two new pairs of glasses and buy some computer printer paper in Lidl's next door. I'm surprised at how quickly Clare and I get through a ream of paper in this so called paperless digital era. 

We had an early lunch before an afternoon hairdressing appointment with Chris over in Rumney. He treats us both very well and we have great conversations with him. Usually while Clare is being seen to I go out for a walk in Parc Trederlech nearby, but I didn't feel like it today, perhaps because there was much to say after Martin's birthday party on Sunday.

After we got home crawling in tea time traffic, Clare went off to her meditation group, and I went for a long walk in the park. I met Jan and Peter, out walking their Bedlington terriers. It was great to chat with them as they walked their neatly shorn dogs. Jan is hosting a symphony concert at the Res next Tuesday featuring a lesser known 'Concierto Andaluz para cuatro Guitarras' by Joaquín Rodrigo in its programme, enough reason to go. It's one I've never heard before. The guitar soloists are from the Royal Welsh College and we'll be in the College for tea in the afternoon anyway, as supporting members.

I had supper on my own as Clare are before going out. After she returned, I spent the remainder of the evening writing a reflection for next week's Morning Prayer and preparing for tomorrow's funeral.

Last day with Jas

Cloudy sky returned for some of the day. Jasmine cooked pancakes for breakfast with Grandma support. Then we drove to Porthkerry Country Park and the cloud cleared along the coast. We took photos on the beach, then had a drink and ice cream at Mrs Marco's Cafe. I had my first veegan choc ice of the season which was nice, but not quite chilled enough so it rapidly began to melt in the heat and needed eating fast, which detracts a little from the pleasure. 

When we returned, Jas and I went to check out the moorhens in Thompson's park. Parents with young kids in the park after school were keen to tell them about the nest, and the hope of seeing eggs hatch. Sadly it's not going to happen while Jas is here, so I've promised to send her the first photos I get when they do. 

The two of them walked over the the Royal Welsh College at tea time for the 'Amser Jazz' end of summer term session. I had messages to respond to and worked on Sunday's sermon. With three readings this week worth drawing attention to, it took time to think about what to write. Then, a walk around the Fields and back, by which time Clare and Jas were crossing the park on their way home just behind me. I got home just ahead of them, in time to start cooking pasta and veg.

Then it was time for Jas to pack her case, ready for an early departure for the London train tomorrow. It's been a lovely week we've had with her. Sharing an interest in photography with her has been a delight, as Clare has had pleasure in making music with her, and sharing culinary creations. Hopefully in a couple of years time she'll be studying over here in UK, and there's be opportunities to see her more often.

Vesture questions

I enjoy warm summer nights. I sleep much more relaxed and don't wake up so often. Another bright sunny day with the temperature in the mid twenties. It does me good. After breakfast a walk to St Catherine's to celebrate the Eucharist with seven others, then to Chapter Arts to collect this week's veggie bag. Clare had already made a start on lunch by the time a got home. We listened to excerpts from the song recital competition from RWCMD on Radio Three while we ate. Then went out and did the grocery shopping at the Coop before going to my blood pressure monitoring appointment at the GP surgery.

I was shocked to find that I'd missed the appointment. It was meant to be yesterday at the same time. Did make an error entering this in my diary? Or did I mishear the receptionist, talking at me in a soft voice from behind a screen? I'm not aware of my hearing getting worse. I have no problem hearing birdsong in the park, though there are times at home when I think Clare is speaking softly in a low voice. Also I find that I'm sometimes painfully uncomfortable with high volume sounds. It's time to get my hearing checked out, I think. What an embarrassment. The surgery staff must think I'm losing the plot. Perhaps I am.

I had an exchange of emails with Rufus about promoting his future ministry as an independent celebrant of. We looked at  a range of websites advertising civil celebrants. Three quarters of them showcase female celebrants, full of maternal sympathy and composure, absolutely appropriate. It does beg the question of what does a masculine celebrant offer that's distinctive and attractive. 

For the best part of two millennia priesthood has been entrusted to men whose masculinity has been effaced by ritual garments. Traditional sacred disguise makes it possible for women, and masculine or effeminate men to occupy the celebrant's role without contention. In a secular environment this can be considered alienating. Dignified dresses and smart suits according to taste must play their part instead, but what messages are conveyed by apparel or for that matter body language? These critical issues aren't easy to address. The aim is to convey confidence and invite trust in the celebrant's ability to bring a rite of passage to life and make it meaningful. Lots to think about here.

A short walk in the park before supper, then the fourth round of Cardiff Singer of the World, with four more marvellous performances to listen to. The one that really grabbed our attention was a soprano from Colombia in South America, the first ever. What a brilliantly passionate performance. She danced as she sang on several occasions, completely in character for the role she was playing. Sadly she didn't win. Well, we guess three out of four winners correctly. Tomorrow night the song competition final.

 

Life with marvellous music added

I don't know what happened to the thunderstorms and sudden downpours predicted for yesterday, but they passed Cardiff by. Today is nearly as hot as the Costa del Sol, blue skies and sunny. Clare went out before me to an eye hospital appointment. After responding to a few messages, and doing some work on Rufus' business web presentation text, I drove to my dental appointment in Llandaff North, as I didn't fancy walking up the Taff Trail in the heat. Just as well too. The anaesthetic I was given before the filling was done left me feeling slightly odd and wobbly for an hour or so afterwards as the numbness wore off. Have I become more sensitive to a local anaesthetic since the last time, a couple of years ago?

I called into Lidl's near the surgery for a few items of shopping before heading for home and cooking lunch. Clare had an extra long wait for her consultation and returned just as I finished cooking everything except the veggie sausages. We ate our plates of veggies together, while her sausages cooked, and then ate our sausages separately as a second course. During lunch we listened excerpts from the first Cardiff Singer of the World song contest recital from the RWCMD. What a treat!

Then I had a bereavement visit to make out Fairwater, and caught the 61 bus which took me within ten minutes walk of my destination. Unfortunately Google Maps misdirected me to a different address from the one I sought directions for, navigating me to a street elsewhere where a random touch on the screen had 'dropped a pin' on the map (as Google calls it), which the AI bot interpreted unquestioningly as a change of destination. This added an extra five minutes to my walk, and much more annoyance and confusion. It's not as smart as it thinks it is.

Anyway, I ended up at the correct address, where I met the brother of the deceased who'd helped to care for her over most of their lifetimes, as she was disabled and vulnerable. Another lovely story of family making it possible for a person to live a supported life in the local community, and receiving boundless love and appreciation in return.

I returned on the 61 just as Plasmawr school students were leaving and congregating at the bus stop. The ride back to Pontcanna was very crowded indeed. Then back to work on Rufus' project, before and after supper.

Clare got back from her meditation group just in time for tonight's round of Cardiff Singer of the World. All the singers were impressive, yet again, but the clear winner was another South African soprano, and we thought the same as the jury, for the third time in a row. Wonderful music!

Amser Jazz Time in person

I woke up early, posted the YouTube link for today's Morning Prayer to the Parish WhatsApp thread, then dozed, listening to the news, missing Thought for the Day and then catching up on it minutes later on BBC sounds, and finally getting up refreshed at half past eight.

Clare entrusted pancake making to me today. She thought it was Saturday and prepared for it fully before realising her wrists her too much to cope. It's often the case earlier in the day. No idea why. Anyway, for me with no experience of working with vegan pancake batter it was a matter of trial an error, but it worked out fairly well. The last time I remember cooking pancakes was at a St German's social social event before covid.

I drank a couple of mugs of weak coffee while I cooked. More than I usually would. I was surprised it made a difference. I have to drink a litre of water before I eat breakfast these days. Still it takes me half the morning to feel fully awake. Not exactly drowsy but less alert that I expect to be. I don't think it was a caffeine overdose, It's something to do with my gall bladder not working as efficiently to regulate my digestive juices as it needs to. Porridge and a few slices of toast require my stomach to work as hard as it would with a heavy meal, though I don't feel bloated or dyspeptic. Black coffee's bitterness seems to help the digestive process. If the coffee is too strong, I get dyspeptic pains. At the right dilution It's beneficial. Tomorrow I'll brew a pot of decaffeinated coffee to see if this has the same effect. 

After breakfast the guest on this week's Desert Island disks was South Walian front-line journalist Jeremy Bowen talking about his life and work, a man who has spent his life and often risked it to be a first hand witness to terrible events, leading to him testifying at War Crimes Tribunals in the Hague and reporting on military disasters which generals in charge got wrong due to bad information and lack of a front-line witness of their own. I found it moving to hear him speak about himself and the redemptive effect of coming finally to family life in his forties.

I drove to Llandough Village to make a bereavement visit at eleven. There's a steep lane down the hill on which St Dochdwy's Parish Church stands, enfolded in ancient woodland. To think that in the sixth century there would have been a monastic Llan in the area surrounding the church, embedded in forest with a spring of water running through it.  I seem to recall that at least part of the churchyard wall still reflects the original circular shape of the settlement. Near the bottom of the land is a house and a row of bungalows with lovely gardens front and back you wouldn't know were there, this little side valley is so secluded. A haven for bird life too.

When I returned, I started work making next week's Prayer video, then cooked lunch and finished the job after we'd eaten. We went for a walk in Bute Park towards tea-time. I took some photos of a pair of cormorants and a young heron just below Blackweir Bridge. The cormorants were fishing for eels, and although I could see this at a distance of fifty yards it was too difficult to photograph. There were a pair of wagtails paying about over the water and returning to a rock in the middle. I took photos and didn't really expect much of them, but a few were better than expected and showed they were yellow wagtails, not the pied ones of which there are lots further away from the river.

We ended up walking to the Royal Welsh College in time for a drink and the start of Amser Jazz, live and in person for once. Two acts were on the programme. The first was Elijah Jeffrey, Jazz singer, songwriter and multi-instrumentalist, a college student nearing the end of his course performing his own songs on piano or guitar accompanied by Huw Llewellyn playing muted trumpet in the wistful style of Miles Davis. Beautifully minimalist Jazz. Very effective. Elijah's first EP is launched in two weeks time. Then Safiya Joscelyne and her quartet, paid tribute to the singer Eva Cassidy with their own take on a selection of Cassidy's album 'Nightbird', lovely interpretation of several classic romantic Jazz songs. What a treat!

We bumped into our friend Fr Hywel Davies between sets, and sat at table with him. He'd come down from Cwmbach near Aberdare, obliged to drive down to Mountain Ash to get the train, as the line betond Mountain Ash to Aberdare is closed for line electrification work at the moment. It may be pretty inconvenient for Valleys people, but at least work is finally proceeding on the grand plan to upgrade the South Wales railways worthy of re-branding as a Metro network. It's the first modern development in a century, despite the closure of many less used lines back in the 1960s.

Sections of rail infrastructure lost irretrievably due to the Beeching cuts would be invaluable today. De-industrialisation of the Valleys led to many more people having to commute from the Valleys to coastal towns and cities for work. Roads, despite upgrading are congested and the remining rail network struggles to cope it the volume of users. Hopefully, improved Metro infrastructure will make possible an increase in rail traffic, and ease pressure and pollution on the roads.

It looks as if my speculation yesterday about the destruction of the Kahkova dam in Ukraine was close to the truth. An intercepted Russia security message about the activity of a sabotage unit indicates that an explosion on the dam wasn't intended to cause so much damage, but to send a message to Ukraine. In Norway, a seismological monitoring station recorded the impact of the blast 400 miles away, estimated that about a ton of explosive had been used enough to break the dam, not just render the road across it unusable. Aerial photos show no indications that it had been bombed or shelled, as the Russians allege. Does the Kremlin regime realise the extent of the scrutiny its every action is subject to? 

There was nothing I wanted to watch on telly tonight, so I spent the evening uploading and editing the photos I'd taken and writing. Then just as I was about to turn in for the night, the breaking news that Boris Johnston suddenly announced his resignation as an MP, before the Covid enquiry, and the Parliamentary report on the so called Partygate scandal.  And today Donald Trump is indicted on serious criminal charges which is bound to have an impact on the next presidential campaign. How long before the Russian people wake up and realise the extent to which they have been deceived by Putin and his gang? The world doesn't need such egocentric leaders.

Feats of daring on Playa San Franciso

After several rough weather days this week, the wind strength dropped overnight and the cloud cover dispersed. Only when it rained heavily midweek was the cloud cover as low as it usually is in Cardiff. On very windy days the cloud cover has been higher. Generally it's been less gloomy than at home, but the return of the sun is welcome, penetrating the house and warming the lounge in the morning, so heating isn't needed. Something to enjoy while it lasts.

After breakfast I completed and uploaded next week's prayer video and edited my Sunday sermon. Lunch consisted of the second portion of chicken in a sauce cooked yesterday with potato, carrot and judia plana, which Google translates as 'flat bean'. It's a variety of long broad bean pod harvested before the actual beans within grow to maturity and the pod becomes stringy, a favourite veg of mine when I'm in Spain.

Clare and I chatted after lunch. She recounted the performance of 'The Scottish Play' she watched last night at the Royal Welsh College of Music and Drama. Set in our times with guns instead of knives and swords and Macbeth was played by an Irish actor, and scenes at the start and finish intended to make a statement about the universality and continuity of treachery and conflict in human relationships, I guess.

Then I went for a walk down to the far end of Los Boliches, aware that the wind had picked up again. The sea was as turbulent as it was on previous days, if not more so. There were no surfers waiting for waves in the waters of Playa San Francisco, just too dangerous for sensible people I thought. But not for kite surfers however! 

Three of them took maximum benefit from the cross wind traversing the bay, to drive their surf boards across the top of three metre high waves, occasionally being lifted from one to fifteen metres into the air before hitting the sea again and only rarely going under rather than continuing to surf the waves. Amazing to watch. Like snowboarders who fly high riding the half-pipe or a downhill obstacle course, their confidence and control is very impressive. I can't imagine how they achieve such athletic excellence without paralysing or killing themselves.

On the return leg, I stopped to buy some toiletries at the large Los Boliches Mercadona on the ground floor of a huge apartment block. It's like a maze inside with many different sections. Then I stopped at the smaller Las Salinas Mercadona down the hill, to buy a stick of pan rustico. I bought one a few days ago for a change from half-rye sliced bread I usually buy, and enjoyed the flavour. Made of strong white flour, it's more substantial than its French or British equivalent. 

The air temperature today was decent fourteen degrees, but the strong wind was chilling, and when I got back I felt like cooking something to warm me up. The pan rustico  went nicely with a tapa I invented for supper, of spicy chorizo chunks, fried in olive oil with garlic, cherry tomatoes and sliced mushroom.

Finally, I listened to Janacek's opera 'Jenufa' on Radio 3 while writing and editing pictures uploaded when I got in. Then an hour's reading before turning in for the night, feeling the benefit of so much fresh air, sun and good food.

Jazz night out

After breakfast this morning, Clare had a jazz piano lesson with Eddy. He mentioned that he was playing a gig this evening at a cocktail bar in St Mary Street. Naturally she decided she wanted to attend. A Friday night in town isn't a time I'd choose to go out, when the city centre is packed with carousing young people but reluctantly, I agreed.

Yesterday I had an email from Emma the Euro-diocesan Locum administrator about renewing my PTO, and requirement to fill in a form for the Safeguarding Office as the basis of their checks. When I tried to do this, this morning, although the document sent was a standard .docx file it resisted my attempts to fill it in, being marked 'read-only'. When I checked out the OneDrive embedded online MS Word app, it too refused to do anything other than display read-only. I tried saving a copy to edit, but still it wouldn't work in Libre Office, my default Word Processing app. I don't use desktop MS Office. When I re-saved the file in Open Document .ODT format, it became editable, though editing was slow to respond. At least I got it done and sent it off eventually, but it took far longer than expected.

I finished and printed out my Sunday sermon while Clare had her lesson, then cooked lunch. Afterwards, a brief snooze in the chair followed by a walk in Llandaff Fields and along the Taff, I saw a goosander in the water a good half a mile above a spot downstream where I see them roosting. When walked past the rock,  a little later, a mallard couple was perched on it. I wondered if they'd dispossessed the goosander forcing it to move to the stretch of river where I saw it. For more of last year I rarely saw any goosander on the river as I had done in previous years. I guess these changes in habitual behaviour are symptomatic of changes in environmental and weather conditions. Animals are more affected than humans by subtle changes I think.

During supper, we listened to 'Amser Jazz' broadcast from the RWCMD over YouTube, then walked to St John's to pin a poster on the church notice board about the Fountain Choir concert a week Sunday at St Catherine's. The church was brightly lit and there was a carol service going on within when we arrived. The first Christmas lunch of the year had been served up in church this lunchtime for about twenty people.

We caught a bus into town from nearby the church, and made our way to the castle end of St Mary Street to the cocktail bar where Eddy's gig was taking place. It was packed with young people on their first stop  of the night, drinking cocktails. People came and went fairly quickly so we were soon able to move from a high seat opposite the bar to a table right next to the band. Eddy was clearly pleased that Clare had come, and she introduced us in the break between sets. A piano, bass, guitar trio, playing post war Jazz standards, perfect live cocktail lounge music, played with vigour by three young musicians a third our age. Wonderful!

I recognised the bass player from the 'Amser Jazz' gig we watched earlier.. He caught my attention, as I thought he was playing a proper string bass from what we heard. I looked, but couldn't find a string bass, just a bass guitar sounding like a proper string bass. Tonight he was playing one. Nice technique I thought, and told him so when we congratulated the band before leaving for a ten o'clock bass. The young guitarist was rooted in the classic jazz guitar tradition of  Wes Montgomery and Barney Kessel, despite all being born well after they'd died. It was a musical treat.

We were lucky not to wait long for an 18 bus to Canton Cross, as the temperature was 5C. Not a night to be standing around for long. I watched the latest episode of Astrid and Rafaelle on catch-up when we returned, as it was on telly while we were out tonight. Bed rather late.

Scarf and gloves day

As expected, yesterday's spell of physical labour left me feeling quite stiff and tired. It was an effort to get to St Catherine's on time for the Parish Eucharist, but we made it OK. In Conway Road a large lorry and street clean-up team were at work collecting leaves heaped into piles by neighbours along the 400 yards of of tree lined street, working around parked cars. This is one of our local leafy avenues that needs clearing several times in the autumn, when heavy rains lead to blocked drains and waterlogged gutters for weeks on end. There aren't so many trees in our neighbourhood, so I don't think we were visited by the clean up team. Last autumn, a few north easterly gale force winds drown tons of leaves from Llandaff Fields right down Llanfair Road and on some sections of pavement they were knee high. Not so thus far this year.

After lunch I slept for an hour and a half waking up in time for Choral Evensong from Westminster Abbey. I listened to this in headphones with my Blackberry walking around Llandaff Fields for an hour. It was noticeably colder. It's the first time I felt I needed to wear scarf and gloves this autumn, but I hadn't given it a second thought when leaving the house. The wind was strong enough on times to impair the sound quality as I listened. The earphones are good enough for normal domestic use, but not it seems capable of reducing much background noise outdoors.

It was good to listen to the Westminster Abbey choir, however. The place is well rigged for making high quality sound recordings and the choir sings Anglican chant with amazingly clear diction, which takes full advantage of the fact. The highlight for me was the first performance of a new setting of the Magnificat and Nunc Dimittis written for the Abbey by Errolyn Wallen a distinguished composer from Belize, currently Artist in residence at the Royal Welsh College of Music and Drama. Two contrasting emotionally powerful pieces of music which capture the mysteriously wonderful character of the text.

I was back home by the end of Evensong, to collect my cassock surplice and stole to go to St John's and take part in a memorial service for bereaved families, held now in many church during November. Only ten people invited from about a hundred sent out. Mourning seems to have become more of a private individual affair these days. With families gathering for a funeral and then dispersing, there's less of an incentive to returning to a place where there has been as much if not more grief experienced than there was consolation offered. People set up memorial websites and share their feelings on social networks from the comfort of their home, rather than don scarf and gloves to venture out on a cold dark night.

The service was themed around the Ecclesiastes text 'to everything there is a season' - fair enough, but to my mind not enough. Nothing about the mystery of Christ's resurrection or eternity or communion. As St Paul wrote "If Christ has not been raised, your faith is futile; you are still in your sins. Then those also who have fallen asleep in Christ are lost. If only for this life we have hope in Christ, we are of all people most to be pitied."  I was in charge of reading the names of the departed and offering the prayers on the service sheet. At least it gave me an opportunity to remember my cousin Godfrey. Only after did my misgiving emerge. I should have read the text through weeks ago when I first received it, but didn't.

There was nothing interesting enough to watch on telly, so I spent another evening reading the novel I started yesterday, and went to bed later than intended with a few more chapters to finish. It's got so complicated I'm not sure I gather where it's leading. Not enough to be worth burn the midnight oil to finish anyway.

Unique performance

I woke up at eight thirty to post my link to What'sApp for today's Morning Prayer and reflection, having overslept by an hour. I listened to Thought for the Day on catchup, and was glad I did. Sam Wells, Vicar of St Martin in the Fields commented on Prime Minister Rishi Sunak's speech in which he talked about his commitment to 'fix' the mistakes made by Liz Truss. He pointed out how inappropriate it was to talk of fixing something as hugely complex and dynamic as a national economy as if it was as simple as mending a toy, or something mechanical. Better to think of the task in hand as one requiring time and patience, like restoring a river valley ruined by industry. 

A point well made, and a reminder of how careless politicians journalists and other public leaders can be communicating with their audience, dumbing down concepts and processes which require more effort to understand. An attempt to be enlightening can so easily end up being misleading instead. I'm reminded of this every time I'm drafting my weekly reflection or a sermon. 

I was nearly late for the Eucharist at St John's after breakfast. There were just four of us today. I couldn't pick up groceries for the food bank collection beforehand, but as the church is staying open on Thursdays until midday now, in case people want to come in for a warm and a chat, so I was able to go to Tesco's after coffee and get two week's worth, since we were away last week. It's been too mild recently to give reason to people not heating their homes to come to church for the morning. Things may be different if the weather turns really cold, but so far we don't know to what extent this will happen with unpredictable weather all year round.

Clare cooked us a veggy stir fry with mussels for lunch. I spent the afternoon recording and editing next Thursday's audio. We had an early supper, then walked over to the Royal Welsh College for a special recital. Renowned veteran singer Benjamin Luxon accompanied by pianist grandson Joshua, a student at RWCMD. Ben is 85 and long retired from performance due to hearing impairment, but he's still full of energy. He still performs as poetry reader, narrator, musical director and master class teacher. As he said himself, "Keep performing until you no longer enjoy what you're doing." I say Amen to that.

He delivered a long dramatic narrative poem called 'Enoch Arden' by Alfred Lord Tennyson. Richard Strauss wrote a rich musical accompaniment for its recitation, which Josh played. Ben's wife, daughter and granddaughter were seated in the row in front of us. The resemblance between the three generations of women was striking! Like them, Josh also has long jet black hair down to the middle of his back. And why not when you're a gifted pianist?

The performance was emotionally powerful if to my mind occasionally flawed by his pronunciation. Unfamiliarity with his Cornish accent however may have added to my difficulty in decoding his speech. I'd like to hear this poem performed by Welsh Actor Michael Sheen, who has similar Celtic passion and amazing clear diction. Also present was David Willison, Ben's piano accompanist for thirty eight years, with stories of his own to tell during the post performance Q&A. It was a privilege to be present for a work so rarely performed by a unique grandpa and grandson musical duo.

We walked to the town centre to catch a bus outside the Holiday Inn, and one pulled up just as we got to the stop, so we were home by twenty past nine. It meant that I could finish the audio editing started this afternoon, and feel satisfied to get that done nice and early. And so to bed.

Welsh and proud

This week, St Catherine's chancel is being redecorated, the service was held in the church hall instead and I celebrated with eight others. We agreed, chatting over coffee after that it had been a pleasant experience, sitting in a semi-circle closed by a table serving as an altar. Before the church was built in the 1880s the 'tin tabernacle' had been erected and used an an all purpose mission hall, for Sunday school, and various church groups as well as Sunday worship. 

Its roof has been replaced, not sure about the corrugated iron walls, though they have been re-painted a sympathetic green, with a modern kitchen and toilets added in the new century. The interior is still wooden panelled, and in good repair. It's a nice Victorian period piece of vernacular architecture, often used for location filming on top of its other parochial engagements. The acoustic is good, as well, which actually helps to make it a good worship space. We wondered how long it is since a service was last held in the hall instead of the church.

We chatted until quite late, so when Clare returned from a therapy session and a trip to town, I'd not been for this week's veggie bag, and lunch wasn't ready. She cooked while I went out to fetch it. After lunch I walked over the St Luke's to meet the lady I'd talked to on the phone yesterday, and continue preparations for the funeral of her friend next week. When I returned home I drafted and sent her an order of service to work on, and then we had supper early so we could get to the Royal Welsh College in time for a concert,

This afternoon, St John's City Parish Church hosted a civic service of thanksgiving for all that had been achieved in Wales by people serving together to combat the covid pandemic. The NHS, the military and police, and a host of voluntary organisations, with an emphasis on Wales's ethnic minority population which suffered disproportionately from covid, not least as so many work in the NHS in public service organisations, transport and food retailing. The concert which followed in RWCMD was organised by the Indian Consul in Wales, and was a celebration of good will and diversity. 

It included a College Jazz ensemble, another band of students led by a composer/songwriter of Welsh African, which played her compositions. Then, a wonderful display of classical Indian dancing by two dozen young woman, and to conclude, the Royal Welsh Regiment band's corps of drummers. Just three of them dressed in their traditional dark navy blue uniforms with helmets, pointed like a police helmet. At first I wondered if they were from a police band, but not so. Their drumsticks were illuminated with a red and a blue LED, and house lights were cut while they played, producing an amazing light-show that changed according to the rhythm they tapped out.

There were speeches of course, including one from First Minister Mark Drakeford, who was warmly received when he spoke, telling a few succint heart warming stories, and celebrating the way everyone in Wales, regardless of cultural background pulled together, thinking of others, working for the common good in ways great and small. He spoke about a government anti-racism policy which aims by 2030 to ensure that everyone in Wales has equal opportunities, regardless of their ethnicity. It seems we're the first nation in the world to formulate such a policy. 

We also heard from another speaker that measures taken to limit the spread of covid in Wales resulted in Wales having the lowest death rate, something remarkable considering levels of deprivation in post industrial areas. All attributed to careful monitoring and people making an effort to comply with public health requirements. Yes indeed, such a lot to give thanks for, and to be proud that we've had the extraordinary servant leadership exercised by our First Minister, who has continued undeterred on the government team's collaborative approach which has got us where we hope to go, and is now taking us into recovery, with a new vision for the future. I couldn't be any prouder than I am.

Ending of an era

 A bright shnny day with early clouds making away for clear blue sky. I was collected at ten to officiate at a funeral in Thornhill. The smaller Briwnant chapel was full of mourners for a service without hymns but with Paul McCartney singing 'Yesterday' after I gave the eulogy. Paul, one of Pidgeon's drivers was today among the mourners carrying the coffin, having known the deceased and her children for most of his life. 

While we were travelling there, I was passed a note by on of the funeral team asking if I could do another funeral in two weeks time. It will be the second graveside only service I've taken this year. The well appointed chapels, although suitable for the purpose, cannot escape being anonymous and clinical. With a full busy Friday schedule running the place cannot escape having the character of an industrial production line. If it's not raining, I prefer the atmosphere of a simpler open air service accompanied by birdsong.

I set out to walk to the bank in town when I returned, but met Pete and Diana at the Danish bakery and had a coffee with them until it was time for lunch. When I got back, I found that Clare had already cooked in Owain's company. He took the day off to attend the funeral of an eccentric septuagenarian named Rhys who lived just around the corner from us on Llanfair Road. 

In the ten years Owain lived in Meadow Street, he'd been friends with Rhys and his step children. A month before he died, Rhys had called him and chatted for over an hour by way of saying goodbye, as he knew he didn't have long to live. Family and friends gathered outside the house for a quarter of an hour before the hearse arrived, (it was a Green Willow funeral), giving people not attending the funeral a chance to pay their respects and see him off. 

I think that's the first funeral in our neighbourhood since we moved in twelve years ago. Ours is an area with other retired people like us, but with more first time buyers with small families or single people, so the turnover in younger occupants has been high. Several houses are now rented out and renters also tend to be short term occupants.

Owain called in for a cup of tea with us after the funeral before heading back to Bristol, and then Clare and I went out for a walk. We parted company on the riverside path as she wanted to go across to the Royal Welsh College 'Amser Jazz' session, and I needed to head home and get supper ready. In the evening I watched an episode of 'Grace', a real crime thriller, then another episode of 'Nordic Murders' better known in German as 'Usedom krimi' after the ravishing Nordsee coastal island setting where the series is set. These stories are slow paced and explore relationships and characters around tragic events, as much as they are whodunnits. I'm always encouraged to find how much of the German dialogue I can remember, even though its so many years since we spent any time in Germany or Switzerland.

Musical Mastery

Up early, posting my weekly prayer and reflection upload after 'Thought for the Day' on the radio. Then, after breakfast, down to St John's to celebrate the Eucharist, before returning to cook lunch for Clare, and work on recording and editing the audio for next week's upload.

I needed a siesta after lunch before going for a walk. That's what happens when I wake up early and can't get back to sleep. After an early supper, we took the bus into town and walked to the Royal Welsh College for a piano recital by Llyr Williams, another in his series performing Chopin's piano music. Another wonderful experience. His approach to playing is deeply reflective, like a Zen master at work. It's almost as if he sits at the keyboard and waits for the music to arrive from above and beyond. After a moment of stillness at the end of a piece his attention rests on the keyboard and then he raises his left arm into the air above his head, in a gesture that suggests he's offering the music back to heaven. When he stands up to acknowledge applause with a warm smile, he looks as if he's expressing enjoyment in hearing the music he has played, as much as the appreciation. A moment of shared delight perhaps? What a treat.

We caught a bus home just after ten, just too late for the news. Four of Boris Johnston's top aides have resigned in the past day, one of them fiercely critical of his refusal to apologise for slandering Keir Starmer in the House of Commons. What next in this insane political soap opera?

Lost in the woods

A routine start to the week with cleaning chores after breakfast, and a re-write of mt Thursday morning reflection on the difficult passage in Matthew ten in which Jesus talks about his ministry causing division, an uncomfortable message. Thursday is the start of the UN's annual campaign against violence to women, a sixteen period marked by supporters wearing a white ribbon. It proved possible link this to Safeguarding in the church, and back to the Gospel. Once I'd made the connection, writing and recording was easy.

As I was busy, Clare cooked lunch. I went to the shops, then recorded and edited my Thursday service. We had supper early, then set out for the Royal Welsh College over Blackweir Bridge and through the park for an opera Gala Night. In trying to reach the cycle path three hundred metres through the woods beyond the bridge, we took the wrong path twice, added twenty minutes to the walk, and arrived dead on seven thirty, as the Welsh National Opera orchestra was tuning up. 

Failure to find the right path, not way-marked for some stupid reason no doubt, while easy in daylight was impossible at night, though we have walked it at night in the past. It's a case of remembering the lie of the land, which changes when the undergrowth is overgrown. Anyway, we walked down the playing fields, couldn't exit by the ambulance station, but found a way out by the new service entrance gate which, though closed wasn't locked. I was pretty certain that there was a permanently open way out of the park at night next to the College, but Clare didn't believe me, though we've walked that way before. It was quite a bizarre predicament to be in, but we laughed our way through it more than we bickered.

The concert was wonderful, Carlo Rizzi conducting the WNO orchestra with great energy and the opera students rising admirably to the challenge in eight extracts from operas, only one of which we knew. The last piece was from the end of Verdi's Falstaff with ten singers on stage singing a fiendishly complex fugue with much gusto. It was offered, as Carolo said, in memory of David Seligman, a long standing patron of the College, and music making generally in Cardiff, who died earlier this year. It was more in keeping with the spirit of the man than a minute's silence, Carlo said.

Sitting in front of us was Eileen, the caretaker at St John's church. She was already at the bus stop to get the 61 home when we arrived there after the performance. It was great to find a fellow enthusiast among our local church members. What a night! Lost in the woods, then arriving in the nick of time.