Change of arrangements

A little cooler today with clouds and sunshine. I woke up and posted today's YouTube Morning Prayer link to WhatsApp, listened to the news and then got up and made breakfast. A trip to Tesco's to buy food bank groceries before celebrating the Eucharist at St John's with seven others. Next week this service switches to midday on a Wednesday, straight after the St Catherine's service. I'm not sure how sustainable this is going to be for full time clergy or lay people attending. I see no reason to attend two services in tandem. My contact with St John's regulars will be fewer and further apart from now on. 

Clare cooked mushrooms and prawns with laver bread as a 'snack' for an early lunch, as we're having a big meal tonight when Kath arrives to spend a couple of days with us before she and Anto go to Sta Pola for a much deserved holiday. After we'd eaten I made the video slideshow for next Thursday's Morning Prayer and uploaded it to YouTube. 

Then I walked to Thompson's Park, and saw on the pond the moorhen family swimming together. Both adults and three chicks, neat and small versions of their parents, fully fledged. A perfect photo opportunity, although the photos weren't quite as clear and sharp as I hoped for. Better luck next time. I walked through Llandaff Fields and down to the Pontcanna Street Coop, to buy a bottle of wine for supper on my way back.

Kath arrived just after six thirty and we ate the fish pie Clare prepared. Then we settled down to chat, sharing thoughts about a family Christmas celebration together away from our homes, in a special holiday location big enough to accommodate 6-8. The New Year to come will be one in which both Clare and I have eightieth birthdays, so this could get us off to a good start.

Clare and Kath went to bed before me, so I read a few more chapters of 'Marina' before following them.

Usual chores

Another gloriously sunny day with clear sky. I woke up at half past seven and post the YouTube link for today's Morning Prayer. After breakfast I went Tesco's for this week's food bank offering and then to Saint John's to celebrate the Eucharist with five others, standing in for Fr Sion. After coffee I returned home and went to collect my medication from the pharmacy, before cooking lunch. Sea bass for Clare and lamb chops for me. Once more I needed a siesta and slept for an hour before doing the Beanfreaks' shopping, as Clare wasn't feeling well enough to make the effort. 

Then I walked to Llandaff to drop off the keys Fr Sion loaned me in case I needed to open up the church. When I got back I recorded and edited next week's Morning Prayer, and after supper continued watching more of the Spanish crimmie Hierro. The story has certainly got my attention, because I can follow the dialogue at least as well as I can follow a French movie, as I keep on saying. And then bed.

Penultimate preparations for travel

I woke up at half past seven, posted today's Morning Prayer link to WhatsApp, and carried on sleeping until nearly nine. I had trouble getting to sleep to start with as a muscle in my right shoulder blade was tensing up and threatening to take my shoulder into spasm. Something misaligned I guess. Eventually I found a way to lie on my back and give just enough support to the shoulder blade to prevent it happening and then I was able to fall asleep quickly, with no further ill-effect during the night.

After breakfast I went to St John's and celebrated the Eucharist for just three of the regulars. The husband of another regular we haven't seen recently died yesterday. That's why we've not seen her. We had coffee afterwards and Ruth presented me with a chocolate caterpillar shaped cake in anticipation of my birthday next week. That was a surprise! Yesterday I received a birthday card she'd sent - an 80th birthday card. She had been misinformed by someone of my current age. We enjoyed a laugh about it. I shall keep it until next year.

On return home, I cooked sardines and veg for lunch, then caught a bus into town, to hunt for a new pair of sandals and a pair of lightweight trousers to take with me to Spain. I got  sandals at Sketchers, half the price I paid last time. After much rummaging through packed trouser rails in Mountain Warehouse, got a half price pair very similar to ones I wear every day. As I have lost weight, and there was no cloth tape measure in the shop (can you believe it?) to check my waist size and knowing that I have lost weight I guessed correctly the size I needed, and now have a new pair to wear while travelling that will stay up without a belt when passing through airport security

Later in the afternoon I had a text message about booking a covid vaccination later this month. I rang up try and arrange another for when I return, but have to call back tomorrow to rearrange a date, either when I return at the end of my stay, or maybe when I return mid-May with Clare. Some with the MRI scan I'm due too. The NHS system doesn't allow for re-scheduling beyond eight weeks.

After supper, I worked on next Thursday's Morning Prayer and reflection, then recorded and edited it. My Post Office Money card needed topping up with Euros. I couldn't recall how much I added to the card last year, and was annoyed to find information from last year was no longer available. Having had a most frustrating time with the Post Office Travel Card app when I tried it several times earlier in the year, as it wasn't working properly after an upgrade, I tried it again, and it gave me a undesired security run-around before letting me in, but now it does work, and I have been able to add a sum to it, so that I have an alternative to my Santander debit and credit cards. 

I also wanted to get the EasyJet app to deliver me a QR code for Google Wallet to use instead of a piece of paper when I enter departures at Bristol airport. This app also gave me a security run-around before it delivered what I wanted. My paper coach ticket has a QR code on it, and the phone has two scanning apps, but frustratingly these deliver only pdf files which you then have to convert to jpeg photo format. Fine if you can get a clear focussed scan to start with, which I didn't. I had to rely on the camera to take a jpeg photo of the QR code on the paper ticket, and then edit it to exclude from the photo areas which weren't part of the code, as this generates errors and Google Wallet isn't fault tolerant. So much for AI. There's nothing smart about these fiddly procedures unfortunately.

Anyway those tasks are done now. All I need now is to select clothes and pack them tomorrow, after a good night's sleep.

Reassured

Another clear cold night, temperature down to minus 4. I woke up at seven thirty, posted today's Morning Prayer link, then sang Happy Birthday to my sister  on WhatsApp. 89 today. I didn't go back to sleep but got up and cooked breakfast porridge. Clare's eye is still inflamed and her vision worsening. Something's not right, so she contacted the eye hospital and was encouraged to visit the Optometry School for a check, as the eye surgeon looking after her isn't available to consult at the moment. 

I went to St John's for the Eucharist. There were the usual five of us with Fr Colin. I skipped coffee after the service to return home and scrape the layer of frost off the car before taking Communion to Sandra in Danescourt. A taxi was reversing into our street as I arrived home. It was collecting Clare to take her to the Optometry School for an emergency consultation. It seems to have taken more than three hours to arrange this. I cooked and ate lunch leaving Clare's share to eat this evening. I walked then to the house where Ray lives the other side of Thompson's Park, to take him Communion. I rang his doorbell for a good while but there was no response. I suspect he may have fallen asleep in the chair. I decided not to phone and disturb him, and went for a walk in the park instead and returned just after sunset. The sharp drop in temperature was noticeable once the sun was below the horizon.

After her eye checkup Clare went into town. We chatted while she was having a cup of tea in John Lewis' top floor restaurant, our usual host. The optometrist gave her a thorough examination and said that the inflammation wasn't yet serious. He gave her a new prescription and arranged to see her again on Monday to check if it's got better or worse. She gave me the taxi service phone number she'd used, to book myself a ride for tomorrow morning. My operation calls for a six forty five departure from home, to allow for any taxi timing error. I could if necessary walk it in forty minutes. I'm more worried about arriving late than I am about the operation itself. My taxi booking was confirmed with a text message giving an estimate of the fare, dependent on drive timing and conditions, plus possible payment means. A neat feature.

Sister-in-law Ann rang to check if whether the operation had been cancelled or not, and gave me a helpful briefing on the procedure and its aftermath. Fascinating. Thanks to low impact surgery, I may not be out of action for long. She said she walked out of hospital after her gall bladder was removed. In any case I have no commitments apart from Sway until a week Sunday, just welcome free time.

After supper, another couple of 'Bones' episodes, then a really early night.

Christmas Newsletter mailshot time

Another cloudy day with occasional showers. I woke up at half past seven, posted the Morning Prayer YouTube link to WhatsApp, listened to Thought for the Day, and fell asleep again until ten to nine. It's getting to be a habit.

I went to the Eucharist at St John's. There were five of us with Meg who celebrated. I went to Tesco's afterwards to get our foodbank donation and then returned and had coffee before returning home. I had some last minute edits to make on Sway, then more material came in, so I was again late starting to cook lunch, but Sway was ready to send at two, the usual deadline. 

When I started Mailchimp, it asked me to verify my login with a pass code via SMS or email. The last time I had to do this was at the end of August. I have no access to the email account or the mobile phone the passcode is destined for, so I sent a message to Rachel who has admin rights over these accounts, and just had to wait for a response and an opportunity to agree a time when this info can be transmitted. Why it should happen now I have no idea.

I went for a walk in the park and returned at five to rendezvous with Rachel in order to get the Mailchimp security passcode from her. After gaining access to the account, the matter of updating the mailing list and sending out this week's Sway link was completed very quickly, much to my relief. Then I was free to work on assembling the annual letter and Christmas card to about forty people. Label printing first, then supper and later in the evening, an hour of envelope stuffing and stamp mounting. Clare had already sent another dozen with parcels and letters. 

Tomorrow I'll see to the digital mail-out of the letter and greetings to another forty recipients in distant places. This year's postage bill for parcels and letters was over seventy quid. It's not only inflation pushing up the cost, but the huge drop in ordinary postal traffic due to the rise in digital greeting cards and emails, driving up the sending price per unit because staff numbers and equipment required are much the same, whether the revenue from postage rises or falls.

When I look at today's mailing list compared to when I retired thirteen years ago, it's amazing to think how many former recipients, friends, family, acquaintances, colleagues have died, or are lost contact with for other reasons. The stream of life flows own. We go with it, but will eventually get left behind. It's fifty five years since I sent out copies of our newsletter while I was training in St Mike's, and have continued to do so ever since. Why bother? It's simple really. Telling our family story to any who might be interested in our life together is to my mind part of the bedrock of our identity. I wonder how many recipients down the years kept copies tucked away somewhere. I know I didn't, until I started using and storing things on a computer. back in the late 1980s. I've not yet trawled through my archives to see how many I can find. Perhaps one day I'll get around it. Right now it's time for bed,            

Bill shock

More rain overnight but it had stopped by daybreak. I awoke at seven fifteen and posted today's Morning Prayer YouTube link to WhatsApp, then fell asleep again with the radio on after 'Thought for the Day' for another three quarters of an hour. I certainly needed the sleep. The after effects of the vaccine seem to have worn off now thankfully. Unusually, Clare woke up after me. I had breakfast on the table by the time she appeared. It's usually the other way round.

I walked to Tesco's for the weekly food-bank donation and then St John's for the Eucharist along with five others and Fr Colin. With Puddled roads and pavements, with drains blocked by uncleared leaves making it so much longer for the rain to empty away, it's hard to avoid getting wet feet from pavement puddles and wet trouser legs from cars passing faster than they should. Keeping the streets clean and safe seems to be no longer a concern for Cardiff Council.

A bank statement arrived just before I returned from church with a TalkTalk debit double the usual size, just a month after I reduced the bill by dispensing with unused paid extras, no longer strictly necessary with wi-fi calling and WhatsApp to reduce the monthly outlay of over fifty quid for phone and broadband. We now have to pay for outgoing landline calls, and whatever the tariff, it ends up expensive, as we've become so used to talking for up to an hour without thinking about what it cost since a fixed subscription covers all calls. A couple of years hence, our copper landline will be phased out anyway, so might as well get used to using the wi-fi calling set up now. I admit I forgot a few times initially, but most of the landline calls Clare made, as she'd not properly understood that she could use this with her mobile at home, instead of using the 4G network. My fault, I should have explained more clearly.

Clare cooked lunch, and while I reviewed yesterday's performance of 'Branwen:Dadeni' on my blog after identifying the cause for the phone bill price hike. After lunch an email arrived from Fr Colin with info about an Advent quiet day in Llangasty Retreat House to publicise. I converted the text into jpeg format in Open Office to include in Sway. After lunch, I finished my twelfth Mailchimp Sway link distribution and got it right first time. Pleased that I'd got the job done hassle free for a change.

It was pouring down by the time I was ready to go out for a walk. I had to put on my heavy rain gear to go out, and by the time I opened the door about four thirty, the rain had stopped, and didn't return until I was near home, an hour and a half later. The cloud was so low, it was semi-dark an hour before sunset. I went to Aldi's, and bought Clare a bottle of brandy, and a couple of bargain bottles of wine for myself to last me a week. The water level in the Taff is still up to the top of the fish ladder, but no higher, about meter below the top of the river bank each time I've passed by this week. We've not yet seen the volume of rainfall that caused the river to overflow on to the footpath, in January this year, back on 16th February 2020, when Pontcanna fields were flooded and much worse things happened higher upriver in Ponty and Taffs Well. 

Remedial river bank clearance work followed later in the spring. I wonder if additional work has been done on clearing riverbed stones this year, as water flowing over the weir doesn't shoot up into a foamy wave now impeding downriver flow as it used to. I spend the equivalent of half a day each week out in the park, and take an interest in any environmental changes that might overwhelm flood defences in times of a catastrophic weather event, even though we live nearly a mile away from the river. One thing I have noticed this year is that the pool just below the weir is frequented more often by Cormorants fishing for the elvers that hatch there. Some as yet unobserved change has improved breeding conditions. 

I wrote for an hour before supper after my shopping trip in the dark, and wrote more in the evening as well. Before turning in for the night, I watched the sixth and final episode of 'Payback' on ITVX catch-up in which the evil perpetrators got their comeuppance, and the surviving victim and her kids got to start a new life in a new place where they couldn't be found. A complex tale of crime and money laundering and the extraordinary lengths to which criminal financial experts will go to hide conversion of ill-gotten gains and invest in legitimate businesses and property, somewhat hard to follow on times, but worth watching.

Timing error

Cloudy again today, but at least it was mild with no rain. I walked for an hour in Llandaff Fields before cooking lunch a little earlier than usual. I had to leave for St John's by one thirty to take a funeral, and had time to call into Tesco's and buy this week's Foodbank contribution to leave at church. I arrived at church before the caretaker and organist, and several of the funeral attendants were waiting to be let in, and the first members of the congregation were gathering. 

Fortunately I had my keys on me to let everyone in. Eileen the caretaker who is usually there well ahead of time didn't arrive until ten minutes before. She was troubled to discover she'd been given the wrong start time, likewise Monica the organist, who arrived after we'd sung the first hymn unaccompanied, had the scripture readings and a eulogy admirably delivered by the four children of the deceased. It seems they were given the time for the Committal, not the church service. If only one of them had contacted me to confirm the details, as I was the one who'd received written confirmation from the funeral directors. It was an occasion to muddle through and improvise a little, and thankfully it was well received by family and congregation members.

I was driven to the crem by a young lady in her mid twenties, who looked much younger in her formal funereal attire. She told me she'd done a degree in forensic science and worked as a police crime scene investigator for three years before joining Coles' Funeral Directors last year. She declared how delighted she was to be working with people in many varied ways, rather than scientifically gathering data for evidence day in day out. I meet some interesting people in this kind of ministry, ex-cops and soldiers, retired civil servants, business executives, even an ex-EasyJet pilot once. The twenty minute drive to and from Thornhill can lead to some enjoyable conversations and story telling.

I'd left my glasses case in church and asked my driver to drop me off near St John's so I could retrieve it. On the way back, I spotted Clare walking in the the newly opened Alex Gooch Artisan Bakery, so we had a coffee together there after buying bread, and walked home together.

After supper, Clare wanted to watch a movie on TV, I prepared the texts for next week's Morning Prayer recording, wrote a Reflection on the mystery of the Ascension and had a long phone conversation with Ashley, discussing what might have caused my older shaver to become un-chargeable. Next time we meet, he'll take it away for a hands on electrical diagnosis, to see if it's repairable.

Postal error compounded

A frosty start to the day, with bright sunshine. I woke up in time to post my Morning Prayer YouTube link to WhatsApp just before my phone notification sounded - a minor satisfaction. After breakfast a visit to Tesco Express to buy this week's food bank grocery offering before attending the Eucharist at St John's. Only five of us this morning. Icy pavements and car windscreens are a deterrent to the cautious. 

When I returned from church, the postman had already called with the small parcel containing Owain's Christmas present, sent us by Ann, as she didn't have his current address the day she was in a mail sending frenzy to bear pre-Christmas postal strikes. When it didn't arrive she checked at the sending office and had it confirmed that that parcel had yet to leave there. It went eventually, arriving about five weeks later, at a guess. It had a big postage stamp on it, the kind printed at the counter, and dated 6th December 2022, the day of posting. The edge of the label was wrinkled and degraded a little. Whoever handled it in Cardiff sorting office decided this parcel was wrapped in re-cycled brown paper from which an old stamp hadn't been removed, and imposed the postage charge again. Errors at both ends. I sent Ann a photo of the parcel plus the notification card left in our letter box, so she can use these to start a complaint.

For lunch I cooked a pork steak in the remains of yesterday's tomato sauce for myself, and a chunk of cod for Clare, plus veggies. She returned from a shopping trip to Cardiff Market with a large bag of fresh fish to keep in the freezer from Ashton's. Next month's supplies!

As EasyJet emailed me a check-in reminder this morning, I thought it would be a good idea to book a ticket for the direct coach to Bristol Airport. I walked to the ticket office in Sophia Gardens to renew my discount coach card, and a return ticket. Twenty five quid altogether, much the same as the cost of the train fare and airport shuttle from Temple Meads, and taking about the same amount of time without the need for a change of transport. Then I walked into town and had another look in the John Lewis Sale to see if there was any new potential bargain, but there was nothing of interest. 

I caught the 61 bus home. There were no buses waiting in Westgate Street, and when I was walking up to the next stop outside the Holiday Inn, a 61 passed me. I increased my pace, and when I rounded the corner saw the bus was still boarding passengers at the stop, I broke into a run for about thirty yards, and just made it as the doors were closing. Amazingly my injured ankle wasn't at all distressed by this, nor did it swell up later, so the last week's improvement is sustained, though I still need to be careful.

Clare went out to a Fountain Choir practice. I didn't think there was much point in learning music that I won't be around to sing, so I stayed in and saw 'Winterwatch' and another episode of 'Madame Blanc Mysteries' on telly. I found out when googling that although set in the South of France at a place called Ste Victoire, it was actually filmed in the Maltese Islands, mainly in Gozo with some lovely scenery. The setting of Ste Victoire in these ex-pat detective stories is fictitious portraying an inland village quite close to the sea. The real place of that name lies east of Aix en Provence, about 30 miles from the coast, at Marseille. The name belongs to a 1000m high rocky outcrop ten miles long west to east, known as the Montagne de Ste Victoire, a famed subject of Paul Cezanne's paintings. It has its amusing moments, but progresses with little tension or drama at a rather dull pace. Like other telly series about Brits abroad it fails to stimulate much interest. Soporific, if you want to go to bed straight after it. But on this occasion I decided to check in for next Thursday's flight and get my boarding pass before turning in for the night.

Rare planetary occurrence.

I woke up early this morning and posted my Morning Prayer link to WhatsApp just before half past seven. After breakfast I went to the Eucharist at St John's. There were ten of us this week. On the walk home it began to our with rain quite unexpectedly, though it had been cloudy with moments of sunshine earlier and it didn't last long, but my rain jacket was soaked.

I made a start on my Sunday sermon for St German's, then cooked lunch later than usual. It was after three by the time I went out for a walk. Half way through it started to rain again, though not so heavily. I took shelter for a while until the rain stopped under one of the few large evergreen trees in the park.  At least I didn't get soaked again. The sky cleared on my way back to reveal a waxing moon with one of the planets nearby high in the sky. Tonight seven planets are visible in the sky at the same time if you know where to look and when, five of them can be seen by the naked eye, a rare occurrence. I think I could see perhaps four from the back of the house, but without a map I can make sense of I'm not sure. This won't happen again for another eighteen years.

After supper I completed Sunday's sermon, then went to bed to watch 'Blacklist' on catch-up while Clare watched something different on telly. It gave me a head start on getting to bed early.

Christmas soirée

Overnight the temperature went down to minus four, but then followed a bright clear dry day. Perfect for the run up to the Winter equinox in six days from now. I uploaded the link for this week's Morning Prayer and reflection to WhatsApp, then got up and made breakfast. 

A walk to Tesco Metro for foodbank donations, then St John 's to celebrate the Eucharist with seven others and a cup of coffee before returning home to cook lunch. I needed a snooze in the chair after lunch, having had another late night. After a snack supper we drove to Fran's house in Penarth for an evening of readings carols and quiet reflection around a properly candle-lit Christmas tree. Clare and I sang the Welsh plygain carol we're performing in the Fountain choir concert and I contributed a brief poem on the incarnation that I wrote a couple of nights ago after an idea came to me when my head was just hitting the pillow around midnight. No wonder I get late nights! Here's the poem.

When the Word became flesh 

Old gods and demons were un-throned

so they said

Yet worshipped still unceasingly

Consuming their devotees

With deathly violence.

Foolish humans cannot bear for long

The silence of heavens

Emptied of glamorous mystery.

Divine utterance now dwells

Hidden in plain sight

Behind the child's naked cry

And mortal agony endured 

In the face of folly. 

Fran's partner Marc and I accompanied carol singing, violin and guitar, and while people were tucking in to their refreshments and mulled wine afterwards, we played a few Irish reels and jigs together for fun. I haven't done that for over thirty five years. After the death of our dear friend David Barker, with whom we used to play and sing whenever we met over the years after graduation, I didn't seek another opportunity to play like that again, sad to say.

Although the temperature was minus one driving home at eleven, the roads were dry with little traffic and I was able to reclaim my parking place outside the house, which was a relief. I was hard enough getting out of it when we left, as a new neighbour with a huge VW electric SUV had parked very badly and far too close to make this straightforward, over a foot out from the kerb and at an outward angle that added to the difficulty of the manoeuvre. Strange to say, getting back into the space seems much less tricky than leaving it.

It was a good evening, but I'm certainly ready for be now.

Cards mailed

Minus two overnight and extra time under the duvet after an unintended late night. A pancake breakfast, and then a start on assembling Christmas cards and letters ready for posting. By half past eleven I realised I wasn't going to get them all ready in time to go and buy stamps and post them, so I took half of the forty odd batch down to the Post Office, due to close at twelve fifteen. There was the expected queue, but I was served within ten minutes and posted the cards I had with me.

Then I walked down to St John's for their 'Santa's Grotto' Christmas Fayre, containing lots of home baked cakes and pies on one table, a couple of tables for children's toys and another for small gifts. The place was decorated with small Christmas trees and lights, and the refreshments counter was busy. I wandered around, chatted with people, had a coffee, bought some raffle tickets and then returned for lunch.

Afterwards, I completed the other half of the batch of cards, and took them out to a priority posting box which may be emptied over the weekend, if I'm lucky. The second class posting deadline is on Monday. I have a small number of overseas cards to send, and my long list of digital cards. Clare has approved the design I prepared last night.

It was dark when we went out to the shops again looking for tins of evaporated milk for fudge making, as is customary this time of year. I was going to walk in the park but accompanied her to and from the Coop, as the temperature was descending from 3C towards freezing after spells of rain this afternoon. Now the air is no longer cold and dry, but heavy cold and damp, a chilling combination unless a sub zero night and the return of clear skies reduce atmospheric humidity.

After supper nothing of interest on telly, so first I did some work on drafting the Lent Study series I'm proposing for my next locum stint at St Andrew's Los Boliches then sent it to churchwarden Jen. Then two hours reading my latest Patricia Cornwell crimmie, and a short practice of tomorrow afternoon concert music. It's stretched my music reading to the limit, and I have not been helped by a music layout which repeats the lyrics for each part for separate staves, so I scanned the sheets most difficult to read properly and deleted all text except the line I'm singing to make it less confusing. Here's hoping it works.

Local housing developments

Cold with sunshine and showers today. I woke up late and posted my WhatsApp link to Morning Prayer at eight thirty before making breakfast. On my way to the Eucharist at St John's I bought stuff for this week's foodbank donation to take with me to church. The service with seven of us took place in the intimacy of the Lady Chapel, which is more appropriate for a small number. We chatted over coffee afterwards, and when I got home, Clare was already cooking a lentil curry for lunch. 

A few weeks ago furniture arrived at the house next door. Doll's house furniture, one of the neighbours said, all smaller sized items to convey the illusion of the house being larger than it is for the vendor's  photographer benefit. That's all been removed now. I wonder if someone will move in soon?  Renovation and sale ostensibly were completed three months ago. The place has been empty for over a year, awful in this time of housing shortage. Renovated houses in our street are selling now for prices 50% higher than the £250k of ten years ago. And these used to be regarded as affordable first time buyers homes, but are caught up in the continuing gentrification spiral. 

There's a large detached house with annexe at the junction of Romilly and Llandaff Roads which has been empty for several more years since tenants were evicted. No work has been done on it. Whether it'll be renovated or demolished I don't know. I guess there may be a lengthy planning procedure to be undertaken by any developer with an eye on such a prime site. It took long enough for the old laundry building and site on Llandaff Road to be redeveloped. The houses are finished now and being occupied. There are two new retail units fronting the street, one is being taken up with a bakery and cafe by Alex Gooch, artisanal baker with a prestigious reputation. That's a real coup for the site owners, and for the neighbourhood.

Next door to Tesco Metro at Canton Cross, there was an electronics and white goods store, started in the 1940s called 'Radiocraft'. It closed its doors in 2020 due the the pandemic and went over to on-line sales only before relocating to Penarth. October last, the building was demolished, after an announcement last year that a block of flats with ground floor retail space would take its place. A similar announcement was made about the old GPO sorting office site up the far end of Cowbridge Road West. It's good news in response to the chronic shortage of affordable housing, as both these site are to be developed by a housing association.

On my afternoon walk I bought some fruit and flowers and took them home. Clare was in the middle of an on-line Jazz lesson, so I slipped out and walked in the park for three quarters of an hour. It was good to go out and get back home again before the sun hit the horizon. I don't often get to do that at the moment, I find it difficult to adjust the timing of my routine. 

Before and after supper, I wrote the eulogy for next Monday's funeral, then we watched the final of Young Jazz Musician of the Year on BBC Four. Some great young musicians, in their teens and twenties but sounding so mature and accomplished. The future of Jazz is in good hands! Then, I finished the day by reading more of the latest John Le Carré novel, and went to bed too late again.

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.

Propaganda drama

I woke up this morning later than usual this morning and uploaded the link to Morning Prayer, listening to news that fifty members of the government have now resigned, including a few appointed as replacement ministers only a few days ago, after realising the impossible situation they'd put themselves in. But Boris hadn't yet resigned. The world had to wait until twelve thirty for him to make a bullish resignation speech, promoting his achievements in office with no sign of humility or contrition. He's still convinced he is fit for purpose, despite growing consensus that he is not.

After a week of unprecedented political chaos at the top of government, the world now has to wait three months until a new Tory party leader can be elected. Calls are already being made for him to step down now and appoint his deputy Dominic Raab as a caretaker Prime Minister. Labour threatens to call a vote of no confidence in the government if he doesn't step down immediately, so the drama continues. What next.

I had a message from Mother Francis asking if I could cover this morning's Eucharist at St John's. When I arrived the nave was set up as a recording studio. The church is hosting the European prize winning Cory Brass Band this week, making a new CD. There were only five of us and we worshipped at the high altar using the choir stalls for a change. I enjoyed that.

After coffee, I returned home, listened to Boris' resignation speech and cooked lunch, while Clare went into town and bought a new garden hose, The one we bought at B&Q last month has already sprung a leak and cannot be repaired. The new one was half the price, a proper old fashioned kind of rubber hose, less likely to leak. Much to my delight and relief our new GHIC cards arrived in the post decorated with the Union Flag rather than that of the EU nowadays. Fortunately it does the same job as the EHIC card, enabling you to access basic health care abroad. 

Later in the afternoon, I walked along the Taff, and returned in time to listen for news updates, but now there's mainly discussions about whether or not Boris will withdraw to let another be caretaker Prime Minister and speculation about candidates contending to replace him.

After supper I watched the final two episodes of 'The Undeclared War'. I found the whole story quite disturbing. How real the possibilities are, rather than fictional extrapolations, I don't enough to tell, but the overall Russian offensive strategy outlined in the story seems  in line with what British security and military heads have been saying this past few years. All in all an interesting effort at a war propaganda movie for our time.

Ground-breaking street theatre recalled

Up at eight, posting the Morning Prayer link to WhatsApp. Clare had already cooked porridge and eaten breakfast. Her back is improving daily now thankfully. I went to the Eucharist at St John's, eight of us were present to celebrate Christ's Ascension. I couldn't stop for coffee and a chat as I had to drive Clare to Splott for her booster vaccination. The roads were busy but we arrived there in good time, and by just after midday we were on our way home again. 

In the news, while I was cooking lunch, the Chancellor announced financial support measures to enable all households to cover the huge rise in energy costs. These benefit poorest households and elderly people most, though every household will get a grant of four hundred pounds towards their increased expenses. It will mitigate the effect of high inflation on household budgets but not eliminate it. Economically it makes sense. A dramatic decrease in everyone's disposable income will impact on consumer spending overall, and risk pushing the country into recession.

After lunch I recorded and edited the audio for next Thursday's Morning Prayer and reflection, then went out for a walk along the Taff. It was windy and there was an unusually fine drizzle at the same time, a bit like having one giant version of one of those mist sprays to moisten the eyes, not enough to dampen my raincoat. I make an effort to walk at a sustained brisk pace, and am disappointed when overtaken by others both young and ten years younger than I. This is what getting old means sad to say.

I watched an episode of 'Art that made us' about the Victorian era on iPlayer, one which I missed, and later watched the final episode in the series on contemporary arts. Both were excellent. The second one showed artists probing the realities of everyday life, posing questions about identity, social exclusion and justice. My only disappointment in the programme was the absence of any comment about the work of Banksy, a major street artist whose witty political satire and social comment touches on the lives and concerns of many who feel marginalised and ill treated by life in today's world.

Actor Michael Sheen recalled the innovative Port Talbot Passion play of 2012, 'The Gospel of Us' in which he played Jesus. It was an amazing piece of street theatre involving ten thousand people, most of them locals. i remember watching a two hour documentary edition of the three day event, but had forgotten that viewing took place in St Mike's a year later in a College event organised by a student in my tutor group. According to Sheen, it was a ground breaking piece of street theatre involving people as both audience and participants at the same time. Many of those present filmed the event on their mobile phones and posted footage on social media, extending the participation virtually perhaps for the first time on such a wide scale. How the world has changed since then!

Flight purchase hassles

Warm and sunny again today. I woke up in good time to post the Morning Prayer link to WhatsApp before Thought for the Day. After breakfast I went to St John's to celebrate the Eucharist with eight others. After cooking lunch, I went for a walk in the park. When I  returned, more emails from Costa del Sol prompted me to book my homebound flight, and a return flight for Clare. 

It's not as easy to book a flight nowadays as the pricing structure is more complex and granular, laced with options for other travel requirements pushed into the course of the booking process. I came unstuck on booking Clare's outbound flight making a series of errors with the payment verification process before getting it right, I think, but am not sure as the confirmation email is still awaited, instead of arriving within minutes. Our on-line bank account is not yet up to date, so we don't know if the flight booked has been confirmed. 

The problem for me is the secure transaction confirmation applet window, in which a texted one time passcode must be posted. Its size is too small for easy reading and it's possible to make a mistake by pressing the wrong button to send the passcode, as the correct one is on the same line as the request for a re-send is right next to it. My eyesight is not as sharp as it needs to be for such difficult interactions. If the payment issue isn't resolved in the morning, I'll have to go in to the main Santander branch in town to check, and tell them what I think about this readability issue.

I edited my biblical reflection for next Thursday's Morning Prayer, then recorded the Office and edited  it, but didn't get around to recording the reflection. That can wait until tomorrow. This evening's episode of 'The Art that Made us' was the only programme worth watching on telly tonight, dealing with the art of the twentieth century, how literature and visual art responded to the violence of the age, calling into question its meaning and purpose. Interesting.

The UN World Food Programme is voicing concern about the world wide grain shortage resulting from the Russian invasion of Ukraine. The whole of the 2021 wheat harvest is still in storage there, shipping it out from Odessa has been made impossible by the war, and this year's grain harvest is due to take its place within the month and there is nowhere to keep it. Not only is the huge increase in the market price of grain boosting inflation globally, but it's hitting poorer nations hardest of all, and limiting the amount available to aid famine stricken countries. An appeal is being made to Russia to un-blockade Odessa, but this is likely to be used as something to bargain with for concessions Russia needs. With climate change leading to extreme weather events resulting in more places being afflicted by famine, this is troubling news indeed.

Art that made us

Last night before going to bed I took a preliminary look at next Thursday's Morning Prayer texts, and then started wondering what I could make of the Exodus passage I'd have to reflect upon. Then I looked at the opening chapters of my novel, still complete in first draft but untouched for more than a year, lacking the motivation to continue. Unfortunately this re-awakened my interest in it, so I had a night of broken sleep with my brain buzzing. I posted today's link to WhatsApp at seven thirty, then dozed until nine. When I got up, I felt as if I'd hardly slept at all.

There were eleven of us at the St John's Eucharist this morning. By the end of it an idea was taking shape to write a reflection for next Thursday, so I didn't stay for coffee, but went straight home and started work on the idea until it was time to cook lunch. After eating I went out to shop for veggies, and took with me a plastic disinfectant bottle to buy a refill from a bring-your-own container bulk buy store. I also bought some dried butter beans, as we don't have any at home, and I enjoy cooking with them. Other kinds of beans are on sale there too. next time, I get something different. The bulk buy store is in the refurbished Corp building, a pub converted into multiple retail units plus a bar. The venture seems to be working well, though I haven't seen it really busy yet.

After an hour's siesta, Clare and I went for a walk in Llandaff Fields. The vacant plinths that were briefly occupied by the Snoopy figures have now disappeared. For good it seems, as I read a news item on-line stating that some of the figures were being re-located to places where they were less likely to be abused or vandalised and five were damaged within days of installation. Altogether, there are forty Snoopys across South Wales. I'm not in the least surprised the Llandaff Fields ones have gone, as they were sited in places with many people passing through, but no CCTV, police patrols or park wardens. Just perfect for mischief makers. 

This evening I watched episode three of 'Art that made us' on iPlayer in the hour before episode four live. Three was about the sixteenth century and impressively gave prominence alongside Shakespeare to Welsh Bible translator Bishop William Morgan as a literary innovator. Da iawn! 

Four was about the seventeenth century, and highlighted architectural innovations plus the remarkable drawings of Robert Hooke who reproduced in fine detail tiny things observed under a microscope, an innovation in his day, opening a new chapter in observational science, looking into the microcosm rather than outwards into the heavens, like Galileo and Newton in the same era. 

I'm loving this insightful exploration of all dimensions of creativity that have been part of the history of Great Britain and Ireland since the Romans left. I missed last week's episode only because we had Kath visiting us. This is telly really worth watching. 

Booster invite

I woke up early and posted the link to WhatsApp for today's Morning Prayer before Thought for the Day. I got up and made breakfast, but in the course of putting things on the table accidentally dropped a jar of orange blossom honey, Clare's favourite. Such a sad loss, first thing in the morning, and so messy to clear up, shards of glass mixed in with orange stickiness on the floor by the table. Then I went to St John's and celebrated the Eucharist with four others. 

In the post this morning, appointment notifications for both of us to attend Splott vaccination centre for our second booster jab next week. I wondered what the impact of this would be so close to having covid, and called the booking line to ask the question. After a ten minute wait, I was told that a delay of twenty eight days was considered acceptable by medical opinion. The appointment would be plus or minus a day that amount of time after contracting the infection. I was given the choice of postponing it, and decided to take an appointment ten days later instead. Clare intends to do the same, given the difficulty of travelling about with her current level of back pain.

Clare took delivery of a special order of fish for freezing from Ashton's and had just finished stowing it away when I arrived home to cook lunch. As Kath is coming this evening to stay for a few days, I then cooked a pasta sauce ready for this evening's meal. Then I recorded next Thursday's Morning Prayer and reflection, before going for a walk in the park. The second Snoopy sculpture in Llandaff Fields has now disappeared. I counted four of them in the city centre a couple of days ago. Easier to keep an eye on with ubiquitous CCTV of course. The plinth on which the sculpture was mounted has been shifted a metre or so, and a tiny picket fence erected around its base. Was it meant to deter little climbers? Too late. Doggone.

Kath arrived just before seven, and after we'd eaten we sat and talked until eleven. It was great to hear stories of the Wriggledance 'Squidge' tour, and all its technical challenges and nightmares, and of the dance workshops she's been doing with people our age and older. It made me very proud and happy indeed.

No end in sight yet

Sunshine to start the day and I was awake early and posting my Morning Prayer link before 'Thought for the Day' for a change. I walked to St John's to celebrate the Eucharist in honour of St Patrick along with six others. When I returned I got on with preparing next week's Morning Prayer reflection, as I had some ideas to work with. about the content of text from the end of the Joseph saga. 

After lunch I recorded and edited the audio. It was an unusually long and slightly repetitive passage which needed a little redaction. It was only when I'd recorded it that I realised that I'd not picked up correctly a few crucial details from the text and this introduced errors into my commentary on it, so this needed editing and re-recording to make sense. 

Funny, that's not the sort of mistake I normally make, but to be honest the last chapter of the story was dauntingly long, although it did have a couple of relevant points to make use of. I do enjoy the task of explaining a text to an audience and making it interesting and worthwhile paying attention to, even if on times it can be daunting.

It's lovely to have longer afternoons again, and not having to go out quite to early to avoid walking in the dark. Sunset is twenty past six now. I had a reminder from Frank's wife Carmen that my friend from our days in Bristol University is 79 today. They retired to live in Puerto Rico on the edge of sub tropical jungle a decade ago. They'd love to welcome us there, but we can't afford to travel so far afield any longer. So we exchange messages in Spanish instead.

With the war in Ukraine pushing up commodity prices, we'll need to be very careful with our money in the next few years, and our European travel ambitions will be very restricted, if at all. We're fortunate to live in such a beautiful country that's relatively small and diverse geographically. A lot to be thankful for.

Nothing much of interest on telly tonight, which gave me an opportunity to practice Spanish and write to Frank. The news from Ukraine after three weeks of onslaught continues to be distressing, outrageous. The Russian ground offensive has made no progress, so cities are being bombarded and destroyed by guided missiles instead, and the loss of life on both sides continues to mount. 

Preliminaries for peace negotiations continue, details of the agenda for face to face talks are beginning to emerge - neutrality, no affiliation with NATO, as expected, protection for the Russian language, a crackdown on neo-nazis in the country, and inevitably, formal recognition for the breakaway republics of Donetz and Lugansk in Donbass. The destructive brutal siege of the port city of Mariupol continues to take thousands of civilian lives. It's key to the Russians driving a land corridor between the two areas to unite them. If Odessa is also captured, Ukraine will be landlocked, and that will change its economic and fortunes significantly. No wonder citizens are fighting so fiercely.

The language issue on the peace agenda is interesting. Ukrainian is an older iteration of Russian, with regional variations. Under the USSR it was suppressed in favour of modern Russian, but since Ukraine got back its independence after the break up of the USSR, a resurgence of traditional Ukrainian language has taken place, suffice it to say, many if not most Ukrainians are bi-lingual, and there's no question of Russian being suppressed. It's about what Putin thinks happened beyond his control, not the reality. 

Two key actors in mediation between Russia and Ukraine at the moment are revealed to be Erduan, the Turkish President and Bennett, Prime Minister of Israel. Both countries have interesting if questionable relationships with Putin's regime, from which undoubtedly they benefit. But in the end are they no more than 'useful idiots' in Putin's cynical playbook. Putin is determined to get where he wants by force, but he didn't bargain for such resistance and near stalemate in conquering cities. He could run out of time and resources to finish what he started. If he were to be toppled, who would succeed him. There's no obvious successor, and there's no end in sight for this bloddy conflict yet.

Outbreak

As I was posting my Morning Prayer YouTube link to WhatsApp this morning, just in time to listen to 'Thought for the Day', I was surprised when I switched on the radio to hear it had been postponed, as the Archbishop of Canterbury was going to speak later in the programme. I soon gathered that Ukraine was now being invaded by Russia in a concerted show of force from all points of the compass. It wasn't that the Queen had died, the only other piece of breaking news that I could think of which would disrupt the routine of the Today programme . A succession of world leaders reacted, pronouncing condemnation on Putin's action. This and sanctions against Russia have dominated the news ever since, all day. 

War again in Europe, a couple of months short of seventy seven years since it last ended. How long it will last, and what follows from this dreadful moment, we can only wait and see with trepidation. Ordinary Russians and Ukranians didn't ask for this, nor did any other country. It's been imposed by Putin and his supporting criminal mafia in pursuit of his perverse vision of a 'Greater Russia'. It will have punitive repercussions at least for the economies of western nations. How the Chinese dictatorship will react to this global disruption is anybody's guess. God help us all.

A chill wind blew all day. Clouds and sunshine, rain alternating with hail. I joined four others at St John's for the Eucharist, where we kept a few minutes of silent prayer about the crisis. After the service, I went home, wrote next week's biblical reflection on the passage from the Joseph saga to be read next Thursday, then recorded and edited the Office and reflection in record time, with only a fifteen minute break for a bowl of salmon and vegetable soup. Clare bought a month's supply of fresh fish yesterday and the soup was made from the bones left over after cutting fillets from the salmon.

I had a cheque to bank, and started my afternoon walk with a trip to the bank, then went on to the Castle grounds, and back through Bute Park to the Millennium Bridge, up the footpath to Pontcanna Fields and then home. Two big trees near the gate house entrance had been uprooted by the storms of the past few days. It was interesting to observe how shallow their root systems were, no evidence of tap roots going deep, as the entire floor plain area in the vicinity of the Taff is densely packed with alluvial stone, hard for roots to penetrate below a top soil surface about half a metre thick. 

Those trees would have been half a century old I imagine, from their size but they may not have had to face such strong winds in that time, plus the topsoil layer has been waterlogged, also flooded for weeks by heavy rain and river water in recent years preventing the layer from hardening to anchor the roots against such strong wind. The Bute Park arboretum was established in the 19th century in terrain which for millennia was tidal wetland. Only trees which are native to that kind of environment would be expected to thrive naturally. Species introduced would inevitably need careful long term management and protection. Not impossible, but maybe it's always going to be an imperfect work in progress. 

This evening, after supper, we watched the classic movie of Graham Greene's novel 'The Third Man'. It's the second time I've seen it in the past couple of years. It really is a work of art worth revisiting, evoking life in a divided and occupied Europe at the end of the second world war when I was born. The outbreak of war in Ukraine may not impact on Britain as the war did back then, but lovely cities like Kyiv, Karkhiv, Lviv and Odessa could face destruction if fought over, along with masses of their citizens. Oh God I hope not.