Secret Garden Stay

A blue sky sunny day with time after breakfast to start packing my case for our mini break in Oxwich Bay. Clare had a bad cough, so I went to the Eucharist at St Catherine's on my own. Once the Sunday school children joined us, we were about fifty in church with Fr Sion celebrating and preaching in a relaxed way. He told us the church hall had been broken into on Wednesday evening, and apparently the local Scout hut the next night. Apart from window damage and the chaos of every container being emptied, there was no vandalism. It was probably someone searching for money with little idea of what goes on in a public hall used by several different groups. A box containing cans of beer remained intact, overlooked, or perhaps ignored rather than emptied. Inexperienced thieves maybe?

We had lunch early, then I finished packing and loaded the car. It was half past two by the time we left, and I had to get petrol at Culverhouse Cross Tesco filling station before we continued our journey. We reached Swansea about quarter to four, and stopped at Sainsbury's to use their convenient toilet, buy wine and a bottle of water. Clare and I got separated. I waited outside, as the store was closing. I phoned her to check where she was, just as she emerged with a triumphant look on her face and a bundle of clothes in her hand. 

She regretted not having packed a swimming costume, and had popped into the clothing section, found one and dared to try it on, just as the store closure warning announcement was made. She could so easily have got shut in a changing room! She's bought a costume and was carrying a layer of clothes she decided to discard as it was now warmer than she expected when she dressed for the journey. Such a laugh!

I took a wrong turn for Gower in the vicinity of the University and this took us up on to the east end of Clyne Common rather than the west, prolonging out journey by fifteen minutes, so it was nearly five when we checked into our 'pod' accommodation at the hotel. The Secret Garden is an arrangement of six spaces and paths defined by tall hedges, and in each space is a self contained room equipped with a sofa bed, bathroom and shower, a table and chairs, both indoors and outdoors. An ingenious use of space, and just thirty yards from the dining room entrance of the hotel.

After unpacking we went for a walk on the beach. Clare had a paddle, I took photos. Given that it was such a pleasant afternoon, there weren't a huge number of people out on the beach. Perhaps they'd all gone home by the time we arrived, I don't know. We had a picnic supper in our pod, then I walked up the length of the village, remembering places we'd stayed on our previous visits. The sun was setting as I returned, so it was time to draw the curtains on the large glass windows and settle down to enjoy the silence of night and a peaceful sleep.

Packing

To St Catherine's for the Eucharist after breakfast to celebrate the Conversion of St Paul. Over coffee after the service, Mother Frances gave me a belated Christmas present, mail ordered nearly two months ago from an American publisher, a book from which she'd read a meditation at a service back in early Advent. It's called 'Mother of God - Similar to Fire', and consists of fifty one full page images of icons by William Hart McNichols an American priest and iconograph. All of them are of Mary, under a wide range of titles used to honour her name in different parts of the world wide church. Each is accompanies by a poetic text of reflection on what an image so titled evokes for the writer Mirabai Star. It's a beautifully produced book with profound thought provoking texts. What a treat!

After coffee, chat and farewells, I went to collect this week's veggie bag, then helped Clare prepare our lunch. Then, a big effort to pack the right clothes for my Spanish sojourn and round up necessary.  bits and pieces. The devil is always in the detail! It's more difficult than just packing for a summer trip. It can get pretty cold in Spain at this time of year, but by the time Clare comes it could be quite warm, if not hot, so I need to be prepared both ways. I'm slightly regretting not having hold baggage, though it concentrates the mind to pack with hand luggage only in mind. Many times I've travelled with a large bag and not used half of the clothes I've taken with me. 

After an hour of packing, I went for a walk around the streets of Canton, trying out a pair of wet weather shoes to decide if I can live with them for the next few months, rather than take walking boots. I've got a comfy pair of trainers and would like to take sandals as well, for when it get warmer and drier. But will all this fit in my rucksack and cabin bag? We'll see.

After supper, I made some packs of turkey sandwiches for the journey, then re-packed both my bags with a different distribution of clothes, shoes, bits and pieces. Somehow everything I wanted to take fitted in. I'm not sure about the weight, however. When I went to check with the bathroom scales, I found it's broken. Still, all seems to be in order now, with a free morning to relax before I go for the bus at twelve. 

First of the year

Thankfully, a day without rain, a little colder due to a wind from the west, but not as cold. From Poland to Spain average temperatures are being recorded ten degrees higher than we'd expect for early January. Very much a symptom of global warming. After breakfast I walked to St Catherine's to celebrate the Eucharist with five others, and then chat over a cuppa in the church hall afterwards. No veg bag to collect this week, so I went straight home and shared cooking lunch with Clare, as she'd bought me some pork loin steaks to prepare in whatever way I fancied. I stewed them slowly with tomatoes and onions and was pleased with the result.

She returned home with the first three kilos of organic bitter oranges from Seville for this year's first batch of marmalade. Later in the day she cooked and de-pipped them and cooked them until they were jam consistency, eight bitter-sweet jars worth! It'll be my turn next to make the second batch.

John at Pidgeons called about a funeral for the 27th of this month, which I won't be able to do as by then I will be in Fuengirola re-orienting myself for the weeks to come

I went out for a walk afterwards, retracting my steps from two days ago to check if any of the new growth of winter flowers had emerged any further. I found a few scattered snowdrops with buds on slender stems just about to open, also one narcissus in bud but not about to flower. 

Not quite as early as last year judging by a photo I took on the second of January last year, but still a couple of weeks earlier than expected. Lots of fresh grass growth is visible in places, pushing up through the brown layer of dead leaves, and there were a few hazel branches with tiny catkins on them as well.

On the way out of Llandaff Fields at the end of my walk, a man was standing outside Cafe Castan in its sheltered space juggling with coloured plastic balls which lit up - a striking sight. He said that he'd worked as a juggler over the years and now taught juggling and circus skills to children. I tried taking photos of him juggling but wasn't pleased with the result with my Sony Alpha DSLR on auto-setting in poor light, I didn't know how to adjust the shutter and ISO speed manually on the spot, and in the end attempted to take some video clips instead. With these I got this result after editing two clips together with MS Clipchamp. It's the first time I've used this camera's video capability since I bought it six years ago next week.

After supper and the Archers, I couldn't find anything of interest to watch on telly, and spent the rest of the evening just sitting quietly and pondering.

Lesson unlearned - Holy Innocents

After breakfast this morning on Radio 4 this year's four Reith Lecturers discussed the 'Four Freedoms' theme of the series, and were pleased to realise how much their ideas about freedom were shared. Like a choir part-singing in perfect harmony. I wonder if this years innovation of having four lecturers instead of one will catch on and be repeated next year. It introduces an additional dimension of dialogue on top of that provided by the fifteen minutes of Q&A after each lecture.

It rained for much of the night and continued until early afternoon. I ventured out in full rain gear to Saint Catherine's to celebrate the Eucharist of Holy Innocents' Day, reflecting with the congregation on  how child exploitation, abuse and slaughter in warfare has persisted in human history down to our own times, despite vain efforts to prevent and protect. To my surprise, despite the terrible weather, half a dozen regulars came to join me. No veggie bag this week, and no coffee after the service, so I went straight back home.

I cooked lunch, then had a snooze in the chair. Although I coped well with such difficult conditions last night, the effort of  driving it left me feeling pretty tired, and needing to take it easy with all the joints in my hands and fingers painful from the tension of holding on to the steering to wheel without respite for so long. That's what happens when you no longer do much distance driving I guess.

As it had stopped raining, I walked down to Blackweir Bridge and then around Pontcanna Fields. The Taff water level was high, covering the fish ladder completely and about to overspill on to the footpath. I took this little video.

As the sun set, I was walking under the avenue of trees the other side of the Fields when the local flocks of starlings began to convene noisily for the final stage of the journey to roost in trees along the east bank of the river, thousands of them, such a sight as you'll se here.

Before supper I recorded and edited the audio for next Thursday's Morning Prayer and after eating made them into a video slideshow for uploading to YouTube. Then I watched the last of Stanley Tucci's series on the regional food cultures of Italy, about Liguria. Genoa, capital of the region is the home of Pesto making. It was eye-opening to see how the basil leaves used in it were grown high up at 400 metres in an industrial greenhouse above the city, and then how a top expert chef made it by hand using a giant pestle and mortar.

First carol service this year

I woke up early, posted the day's YouTube link to WhatsApp and dozed until half past eight. It's unseasonably mild at ten degrees for a second day. 

There were nine of us at the St John's Eucharist. When I got back home I finished and uploaded next Thursday's Morning Prayer, and then started work on a reflection for the week after next, as Ruth emailed two sets of readings this week. It makes life easier when there are so many distractions at such a sociable time of year.

Then I caught the bus into town to buy the Christmas salmon, some laver bread and cooked prawns which we'll have for lunch before we head for Kenilworth with the salmon tomorrow afternoon. I love the festive seasonal atmosphere of the Market in the days before joining people waiting to be served and chatting. It puts a big happy grin on my face no matter how cold or damp it may be. I took my rucksack to carry the fish home, but it was too long to fit into it, so I had to lug it awkwardly to the bus in a huge white plastic bag that was uncomfortably heavy to hold. Thankfully, no mishaps. It's squeezed into the fridge ready for transport tomorrow. 

I went to the St Catherine's Carol Service early evening. There were about eighty in the congregation and twenty in an augmented choir. Very pleasing to see attendance at a weeknight pre Christmas service back at the pre-covid level. When the children sang Away in a Manger, two girls dressed in ballet tutus bedecked with tinsel danced a pas de Deux, representing the angels. Touchingly beautiful, and a great enhancement to the service.

I had a late supper of beans on toast when I returned, and tried to find something I could settle down and watch, but couldn't find anything that retained my attention. So I did my daily DuoLingo Spanish drill, and then went to bed.