One of my happy places

I woke up to a morning of cloud and occasional showers. After breakfast I went on the bus to St Peter's Fairwater for the only Eucharist of the day, St Catherine's celebration have been cancelled in favour of a service of the Word this evening. As I was crossing the road to reach the 61 bus stop a bus passed in front of me, so I ran up the road behind it, about fifty metres, without running out of energy or getting terribly breathless. Then on the way back after the service, the same happened again, and I caught the bus, quite pleased with this minor achievement, without pushing myself too hard, or hurting myself.

Before the service Fr Andrew played Taize recorded chants, just the instrumental music, used as a backing track for congregational singing. It was a question of guessing the chant to pray with. One I recognised was 'Veni Sancte Spiritus Tui amoris ignam accende' which I learned on a Taize visit nearly thirty seven years ago. When Fr Andrew started singing just before the service began, he sang an English translation of the words I didn't know. It shows how out of touch I am I guess. 

A congregation of about twenty were present, the same number as regularly attend in my experience of taking services there. I may have been the only person attending from neighbouring Canton churches. Most faithful churchgoers are territorial, creatures of habit. If their routine service isn't available, they are reluctant to go elsewhere. They can change, but only if there's no longer any alternative and may just stop attending altogether, as happened during the pandemic closure of churches. I've been used to worshipping in many different ways and places throughout my adult life appreciating both routine and change, but what I seek when I'm on the receiving end is a quality of teaching and prayer from which I can learn, grow and be challenged. It's not getting any easier to find this nowadays, sad to say.

I got off the bus outside Victoria Park on the journey back, and walked around the park once before going home to fetch the veggie bag to go to Chapter and collect this week's order. Clare was in town shopping at Ashton's for fresh fish to freeze when I returned, so I started making a batch of bread and cooking lunch at the same time. I had more success with getting the dough mix right than I have for a while, so it was easier to work into a nice consistent mass for leavening. Lunch was ready not long after Clare arrived. After we'd eaten she went to Beanfreaks for groceries. I baked the bread, then went to the Co-op for the rest of the food we need for the coming weekend, when we'll have Owain, Kath and Anto staying.

After supper, I spent some time catching up on Semana Santa in Malaga. There's been rain again today, like Sunday, so no street processions apart from a brief excursion by the Jesus el Rico cofradia, which is charged with the official annual ceremony of freeing one prisoner, remitting the remainder of a sentence being served by one prison inmate from the city - imitating the gesture of Pilate freeing Barabbas. It's a Holy Week tradition which has persisted for the past 270 years. Again this year, it was someone serving a three years sentence for drug trafficking who gets early release for reformed behaviour. In the absence of video from today, I watched yesterday's footage on YouTube, and glimpsed a number of familiar places around Malaga's old town in which the processions are set. I have so many good memories of time spent in the city, it's one of those really 'happy places' in my life.

Then I finished watching 'Locked up - Oasis'. Its unnecessary portrayal of extreme violence in gunfights, like a Sam Peckinpah movie, is obscene in my opinion, as well as the plethora of confusing switches between past and present scenes. It was enough to deter me from watching the fifty one episodes of the original series, for which this is some sort of finale. Apart from listening to the Spanish dialogue and being able to understand a fair amount, it gave me no pleasure. 

Year end busyness

Cloudy, windy, with cloudbursts again today. It's daunting, but I slept until after eight. I was just about to have breakfast when a phone diary notification reminded me that I'm due to take the nine o'clock Eucharist at St John's. I put that there a couple of months ago when the rota was being worked out as Fr Dyfrig had not yet been able to find someone to cover this, just in case. 

I wasn't sure whether he'd found someone or not, as I hadn't received confirmation that he needed to take me at my word. I checked with Andrew who was already in church trying to fix a glitch in the central heating and he said I was expected, so I dressed quickly and drove to St John's, as it was pouring with rain. There were seventeen of us for the Eucharist. We had a drink together afterwards, and there was toast for anyone who fancied a bit to eat afterwards.

Then I drove to St German's in good time for the eleven o'clock Sung Mass, where there were three dozen of us, and where the central heating also was not working! There were no refreshments afterwards, so I was home for lunch before one, which is unusual for me these days. There wasn't time for a snooze as I was to be picked up at half past three for a Carol service at St Peter's. There were a dozen of us for this and everyone sang heartily. It was less intense, more relaxed than the usual pre-Christmas carol services. We shared mince pies and wine and laughter together in the church hall afterwards. 

I wasn't nearly as drained as I expected to be after a three service Sunday. It's a long time since I've done that. After supper I spent the evening working on the document I've been writing for the Ministry Area Council to support them in calling into question financial demands by the diocese. A day of nasty weather stopped me from going out straight after lunch, so I went out just after ten instead and walked up and down Llandaff Fields, buffeted by gusts of wind, but thankfully no rail. The clouds were clearing and I saw Orion clearly, and clouds no longer obscuring the waning moon. I saw two people out there in three quarters of an hour, although car horns announced revelry in progress some distance away.

It's been a difficult year in many ways with a government unfit for purpose, striving perpetuate the illusion that its dogma has done the country significant long term good. A recent poll showed that the vast majority of Brits have come to the conclusion that brexit has not done the good it promised the country. No poll yet with people admitting they were lied to and accepted that a con-trick was pulled on them. Brits are a creative people with great strengths and great ability to live and work together with their differences, but perhaps still over-tolerant of the huge disparity between rich and powerful, and the deprived poor. It's time for the radical change that will do justice to all citizens, and give true value to the many qualities King Charles affirms in his addresses to the nation.

Support for Ukraine nationally at many levels this past couple of years has shown due regard for the very seriousness of the threat Putin's regime poses to the whole of Europe and the world. It's no nearly so clear when in comes to the situation in Palestine. Getting rid of Hamas governance is a reasonable aim, but the means are so destructive, the death of twenty thousand civilians can not be justified as collateral damage, or failure to follow instructions from invading aggressors. Netanyahu's people and Putin's rely on the same deceptive rhetoric to murder the innocent. 

Festive fireworks have started. The countdown to more uncertainty injustice and misery is upon us. Will 2024 turn out to be any different? God help us all.

Interrogating financial demand

I was late to bed last night but awake for 'Thought for the Day' and up for breakfast in time to leave to go to St Peter's on the 61 bus in good time for the 10.15 Eucharist. I didn't stay for coffee after the service but took the bus back to Canton with Kate one of the two Ministry Area Wardens for a meeting to which I had been invited about an unexpected increase in financial demand from the Diocese, considered unsustainable by Ministry Area churches. 

The impression all have received is that there's no fact based understanding of the economic capacity for generosity on the part of church members and the wider community in which the six churches of the Ministry Area are set. The question is how best to respond to this? We mulled this over for an hours and a half before having lunch together, and agreeing a tentative next step. What really needed is a way to raise questions about the assumptions made by those who manage diocesan finances. Are their decisions correctly informed? 

As ever, the real issue is a gulf between institutional church bureaucracy and grass roots communities of worshippers which seem unbridgeable unless such difficult questions are faced. Reforms in the way churches in the same geographical area work with each other, introduced by Bishop June, the previous diocesan bishop haven't yet succeeded in their intention, as they were dictated to parishes with no meaningful dialogue about the prospects of getting them to work. 

Admittedly covid damaged regular support for the churches. Recovery is still a work in progress and decline continues unremittingly. Judgement about how to cope with the situation, viewed from the top down or the bottom up, isn't going to be objective. We're far from having objectively informed dialogue between diocesan authorities and church congregations about how it's  possible to navigate through the present economic crisis. 

These thoughts plagued me after the meeting. I went straight into town to bank a cheque in the newly refurbished central HSBC branch, which has finally replaced all its automatic banking tills. It's now possible to pay in cash or cheques and withdraw money from the same machine. Clever little thing.

I had an idea of a Christmas present to buy for Clare, but I had to hunt for stores that would provide for me what I wanted.  I was delighted to have succeeded after trekking all over the city centre.

St Catherine's Nine Lessons and Carols took place this evening, and I joined a congregation of about a hundred and twenty for the hour and a quarter service, rather over-long to my mind, as there was a mini nativity scene and crib blessing in the middle, plus a liturgical 'dance of the angels', which was lovely and an uplifting contrast to all those words and music. I have to plan a carol service for St Peter's on New Year's Eve. Tonight's service has informed my thinking about how much time is 'enough' for an evening service with hospitality to follow. 

If I remember aright, this year's carol service congregation was bigger by two or three dozen compared to last year, suggesting to me that covide fears may be lifting and influencing casual, as opposed to regular church attendances. To my mind, this is significant, in an era where people aren't driven by obligation, as they were in times past, but by interest or curiosity. But, we'll see, long term.

During the service, still chewing over the problems presented by today's meeting, it occurred to me that what was needed was an independent fact checking process to examine the reality of the demand being made by the diocese that people in the Ministry Area contribute 25% more than they expected to, and at short notice. I have an idea about how fact checking may be possible, but that's for tomorrow.

Text to speech explored

Rain again in the night and a cloudy start to the day, with occasional heavy showers. I slept well and woke up in time to listen to BBC Radio 4 Sunday Worship, coming this Morning from Llancarfan Church, with 14th century singing from the Fountain Singers and led by Fr Edwin Counsel Ministry Area Leader of the Heritage Coast group of Parishes in the Vale of Glamorgan. He reflected on Advent themes of Death, Judgement, Heaven and Hell, while guiding listeners through the remarkable collection of frescoes uncovered from beneath a covering of limewash on the church walls which had concealed them since the Reformation area. It was an admirable exposition and interpretation of one of Wales' historic artifacts and spiritual treasures, all in half an hour!

As a result of listening to this, I was late getting ready and eating my breakfast, considering that I had to be on my way for a nine thirty Eucharist at St Peter's Fairwater. I had to abandon my cup of coffee and half a slice of bread to get out of the house in haste, and thankfully the roads were clear and I arrived ten minutes early. There were just over forty adults and children present for the service. A mother with a baby asleep in a pram beckoned to me at the end of Communion to come over and bless the babe, as she'd been unable to carry her up without disturbance. So natural and spontaneous, every one a few weeks old to over eighty, all at home with each other in the Lord 's House. 

I was back home at eleven and had a relaxed quiet time reading and text editing before Clare returned from church. After lunch, I started investigating 'Speechify', a piece of software which will turn text into speech from many different sources using a wide variety of voices, mostly paid for. I wanted to know about ease of use and how it works on digital devices you have, without needing extra hardware. Free voices are American accented. It's even possible to record your own voice for use in AI generated speech synthesis for playing back text audio. 

I tried using it as a Chrome browser extension, and found it was fairly easy to learn how to use, though the software version of my voice only vaguely resembled mine. That was probably due to the shortness of the sampled sound recording it used. No trace of a Welsh accent, very slightly American, although the rhythm of phrases and sentence sounded OK. This was just a free demonstration sample. I daresay a paid for subscription would unlock the full potential of this app and produce a more accurate representation of recognisable voice. Buying into Spotify's digital ecosystem will be worth it, and help to ease Clare into a new way of interacting, before her sight becomes too poor to cope with reading.

After this, I walked down to Blackweir and around Pontcanna Fields. The Taff is still as high as it was yesterday. Then I went home to meet with Clare at half past four to go St John's for the Fountain Singers Advent concert. There were fifteen singers this evening. Some of the music we had sung with them the concert in St Catherines this time last year. It brought back good memories, an interesting making use of a dulcimer as well as bells and tambour. This really gives ancient character to the singing when some of the carols are in dance measures.

I admit that I miss singing this kind of music, but can't keep up with a rehearsal schedule which gravitates around Llantwit Major. It's a long way to drive in winter too. But it was good to see Claus and Anna. They are excited about a plan they're hatching to take a group to Lindisfarne for a workshop and concert next year. I imagine that Mother Frances will be delighted if this happens.

We got home in time for supper listening to the Archers, as ever. Then, a couple of episodes of 'Off Grid' before turning in for the night.

Unexpected meeting in church

A lovely sunny morning to wake up to, and a late start for St German's to celebrate Mass. The church was flooded with sunlight throughout though it was warmer outside than indoors. The mood was sombre with the situation in Gaza at the forefront of people's minds. Perhaps because I've been away for a few weeks, I was slower with longer silences in celebrating and preached a little longer than I usually do so we finished nearly ten minutes later than planned.

As there was a road closure in Westgate street in the town centre, I took the precaution of returning home to Canton by the Grangetown route, just in case there were traffic queues. This takes longer, but there was less traffic and no slow queues. It's difficult to get home for lunch until one fifteen either way.

After lunch, I slept for an hour, then went out for a walk around the park. At five, I caught the 61 bus to Fairwatwer, to celebrate Evensong and Benediction at St Peter's. I left early, anticipating there might be problems with the bus timetable due to a bus stop relocation in the town centre, thanks to roadworks in Westgate Street. A bus arrived minutes after I reached the stop - the previous bus, late! Jane got on the same bus, also on her way to St Peter's, and we arrived with more than half an hour to spare. It was good to meet up with Richard again and share a few moans about the state of the church.

The organ was being played when we arrived and unlocked. It was a contemporary of mine from St Mike's days, Richard Fenwick, the retired bishop of St Helena, also a lifelong organist. I think he lives nearby and has his own key. Like me, he enjoys locum ministry, and is currently helping out in the upper Rhymney Valley, not far from my childhood home. He was in church practicing for a concert, but didn't stop for the service. There were just three of us again, but I think we each enjoyed the serenity of quiet eventide prayer together. Kate gave Jane and I a lift back to Pontcanna, and I was home just in time for the Archers.

After supper, we watched 'Antiques Roadshop', then I watched another episode of 'The Fall' before turning in for the night.

Need for boundaries

A windy day, with dark clouds moving at speed, clearing for a while then re-forming, with occasional light showers. More like March than Michaelmas. After breakfast I drove to St Peter's in Fairwater to celebrate the Eucharist with twenty two others, and join people for coffee and a chat in the hall afterwards. Amazing that this midweek service is so consistently well attended, and there's double that number on Sundays. I'm scheduled to be there on Sundays a couple of times in the next quarter without having to rush away at the end to get to St Luke's for another service. Something to look forward to, as it's only ten minutes drive from home instead of 20-25 minutes from Roath, where I've been on most Sundays this last few months.

On returning home, I retrieved this week's veggie bag from Chapter, then cooked lunch and did this week's grocery shopping at the Co-op. The till staff were talking with concern about news of a break-in at Tesco Metro ar Canton Cross last night. Money tills were broken into for their cash float content, and vape display shelves were broken and emptied. Thieves entered through the roof of the rear warehouse. Damage repair will be more costly than the value of what was stolen. "It'll be us next." said the one of them, dreading the prospect.

While Clare went out to shop at Beanfreaks I made next week's Morning Prayer video slideshow and uploaded it to YouTube. She returned with a broken wheel on the shopping trolley, sadly un-repairable. Luckily, things fell apart outside our next door neighbour's house on the return trip. We now have several broken un-repairable items to take to the tip so I'll book an early afternoon visit to the Bessemer Close recycling centre tomorrow after I've taken Clare to catch her train to London for her birthday trip to see 'Abba - Voyage'.

I went out to buy Clare a birthday card. She can't decide what she'd really like, nor can I guess. When you have as much as you need, health and freedom are the things the matter and those can't be commoditised, only looked after carefully. I found an unusual sixteen month 2024 calendar with pictures of Wales, as a starter gift. Still looking for inspiration for something else. The birthday cards were  for the most part were either sickly sentimental or rude, but I found one that will make her laugh. She was having an early supper when I returned, ready to go out for a Plygain choir practice.

Walking up Cowbridge Road from the card shop, I noticed for the first time that Calvary Baptist Church looked different. Then I realised that the front entrance has acquired a set of stylish simple iron  railings and a gate to enclose its forecourt. It seems to be an interesting outcome to covid times.

Outside Tesco's a hundred yards further up the street on the opposite side are some fancy shaped public benches. For ages, these have been frequented by drinkers who prefer to buy supermarket booze, mainly cans of beer and socialise with their mates in the street as they wouldn't be welcome in nearby pubs with outdoor seating. Generally speaking, it's been a harmless enough feature of local street life. Lock-down emptied the streets, but once it was permissible to be outdoors for a while, in an effort to enforce social distancing, the Council surrounded the seats with Heras fencing. 

Street drinkers moved to Calvary Baptist Church which is private property outside the public realm where police enforced dispersal is required. The forecourt was left rubbish strewn and smelling like a toilet. It can't have been pleasant for church cleaners, who'd have enough problems with sanitizing the interior before and after services. Church members would be reluctant to approach, let alone challenge drinkers' behaviour. 

The Heras fencing stayed around the benches for a while after covid restrictions were lifted, but street drinkers have now returned to their old haunt, though it cannot be the same at the moment, as a block of low rise apartments is being built next door to the supermarket and a site security fence blocks much of the pavement next to the public benches. It's not a place where it's easy to sit and watch passers by over a can of beer for the time being. The facade of Calvary Baptist has been modernised at some time in the past fifty years. At that time I reckon the accessible forecourt was constructed, making for a welcoming facade. The passage of time however, has shown that church railings still have their uses.

Until Clare returned from singing, I spent a couple of hours watching episodes of a new Israeli crimmie on 'Walter Presents' about a complex investigation into corruption in the police force called Manayek. The dialogue is fast paced. Concentration is required to keep up with the subtitles. Quite demanding in fact, but the story is engaging. Then I read for a while before turning in.

Participants not consumers

Two services this Morning. I left for St Peter's at ten past nine, and found myself in an unexpected queue of traffic at the Penhill lights, which were out of action. replaced by temporary ones. There were queues in each direction, and changes in lights seemed much longer than usual. Across the junction were a couple of police vehicles and a car, whose back end was mounted on the pavement and wheels were sticking out into the carriageway. It was hard to imagine how it ended up like that but was clearly out of control before it stopped. This scenario robbed me of five minutes, but I arrived in time, deprived of a leisurely start.

There were forty six communicants, over fifty adults and twenty children altogether in church, a lively and healthy parish congregation. I hastened to St Luke's after the service, and again had to park four hundred yards from the church, arriving just in time at five to eleven. Thankfully, I only had to preach, as Fr Rhys was celebrating. The organist was away and we were only thirteen in church. 

Ministry Area congregations are still reacting to the unexpected announcement of Mthr Frances' departure, and St Luke's people are worried about how to face an uncertain future with decisions awaiting about a future that would involve a permanent church sharing arrangement. Without a regular parish priest of their own, numbers have dwindled to an unsustainable. Having even a small group of clergy taking services on rotation hasn't worked for them, few people are willing to volunteer to take on new tasks. The absence of a church warden to represent the interests of the congregation has undermined confidence. Abolition of this elected role under reforms and restructuring initiated by the previous Bishop has been catastrophic.

In two weeks time Bishop Mary is visiting St Luke's for Sunday Mass, and remaining members will have an opportunity to be heard, and understood. What is missed most it seems is the lack of pastoral care and continuity, apart from emergencies, as clergy are too busy managing the Ministry Area and maintaining communication with the congregations (mostly digital) from which some older people feel excluded in any case. We've had a lesson in not trusting Cloud communications this week, with the routine newsletter for Canton churches unable to be issued to a failure in the accessing Microsoft Sway on-line publication account, whose product is regularly issued on a Thursday or Friday. There's no printed equivalent. Several hours preparatory work for delivery down the drain. 

It's difficult to get by these days without use of social media of one kind or another, as we've become so dependent upon them, but how much good is it doing us as a society or as church? Just saying - this week's notices are available on-line or been sent to your email address - is not much good if you don't get around to picking it up and reading it in your own time. Reading out the notice at the end of a service is a direct and social connection to church affairs while you're still in the group to which the information is relevant. It may stimulate a response and action, which can get lost if a churchgoer is distracted by other mundane matters after church. In a church congregation we're still participants, not consumers, but this truth seems to have escaped those who have fostered strategy so dependent on digital media, in which you can get away with messaging and not talking to each other.

Anyway, it so happens that I have a free Sunday when Bishop Mary visits, so I have volunteered to take the service at St Catherine's in order to free Fr Rhys to go from St John's to St Luke's for the whole service instead of arriving late from St Catherine's. It's a long time since I took a Sunday service there, and there's no need for me to show up at St Luke's. As a retired cleric and pensioner I'm a beneficiary of the Church in Wales, and have no say in how it's run. Sooner or later I'll get to meet the new Bishop, but there's no urgency to do so.

After listening to people over coffee when the service was over, I got home at the same time as I would when driving home from St German's. After lunch it rained. Fran came around and joined with Clare in an on-line study session. There was nothing for me to do but wait until the sun broke through again, so I dozed in the chair for about two hours before going out for a walk.

I can still handle preaching twice and taking a couple of services in a morning if needs be, but I'm noticing these days how tired I am afterwards. I need to rest before doing anything else. Another sign of ageing no doubt, along with not being able to work under pressure, and feeling stressed by tight deadlines. I'm fine as long as I have time to prepare, time to deliver, and time to enjoy what I'm doing, so that life feels worthwhile.

I listened to 'The Archers' while I was out walking, and ate supper on my own when I got back as Clare had eaten earlier. Then a quiet evening reflecting and reading, then finally packing a case for our Oxwich Bay holiday trip tomorrow before turning in for the night.

Culinary ignorance

Clouds and sunshine all day today, cooler but no rain. Quite pleasant really. I woke up with a nose bleed in the night but it didn't last long, and I still had a good night's sleep. It's what I need at the moment. After breakfast, I drove to St Peter's to celebrate Mass with twenty two others. News of Mother Frances' departure has been reacted to with shock and concern about how the Parish and the Ministry Area is going to cope with half the full time clergy numbers. Kate, one of the two Ministry Area Wardens and Iona the Ministry Area lay co-chair are going to pursue the proposition of an interim minister, if not a part time administrator. Finding sufficient supernumerary clerics to cover gaps in the service rota is not the only matter for concern it seems.

It was nearly lunchtime by the time I reached home after chatting in the church hall over cover afterwards. Clare had started preparing veggies but I took over cooking sausages, garlic mushrooms and couscous so she could do some ironing. I slept unexpectedly for an hour in the chair after lunch, and then went out for the week's grocery shopping at the Coop. On the grocery list was bicarbonate of soda, which I mistakenly thought was Baking Powder and bought some. Clare returned from doing the Beanfreaks shopping, with Baking powder as well. I needed to google to understand the difference between the two products. It seems pure bicarb is used as a raising ingredient in soda bread and other recipes with stronger flour, I think. That's something I never needed to know in my life before now.

After supper I walked to Blackweir Bridge and back, then watched an episode of a new British crimmie series on iPlayer called 'We hunt together'. It has darkly comic elements and a high quota of foul language which contribute to its rather unpleasant character. It's not clear which direction the plot is heading or what underlying insight into human behaviour it intends to convey. In other words, I don't get it.

Just in time - with Cardiff bus

Up and breakfasted in time to drive to St Peter's Fairwater to celebrate the Eucharist at ten fifteen with twenty two others. During the coffee morning after the service, Fr Colin the former Vicar came around to get some plants from the community garden, looking well and relaxed, enjoying his retirement. He'd come over from celebrating Mass at St Augustine's in Llanrumney. It's what we do, use retired clergy, fill in the gaps, when incumbent clerics are overloaded with demands.

I drove home again, to collect the empty veggie bag and then went to exchange it for a full one at the new veggie bag depot in the courtyard of Chapter Arts, as it used to be before covid. For the past three years the pickup place was in the front garden of a house in Eton Place, but the woman who hosted it there is now moving elsewhere, and Chapter has agreed to host the depot once more. Clare was already in the throes of cooking prawns with veggies and rice for lunch when I returned, nice and early, as I needed to go to 'The Res' in Ely to celebrate their midweek Mass at two fifteen.

I decided not to go by car, for fear of losing our street parking place. This often happens when there's a big event in town, as people driving in from elsewhere for major sporting events, tend to park away from the immediate city centre and hi-jack neighbourhood parking spaces and walk into town. Beyonce was starting her latest world concert tour in Cardiff this evening at the stadium. Clare feared our parking space might be nabbed, so I resolved to take to 18 bus up to Grand Avenue where the church is instead.

I walked to the nearest Cowbridge Road East bus stop for an eighteen bus and was there by just after one thirty. A succession of four westbound buses passed me, none of which was an eighteen, the only one to go the length of Grand Avenue, past the church. In town, because of the concert, there was traffic chaos, with people from all over Europe, let alone Britain arriving for the concert, and the buses having to make their ways through heavier than usual traffic.

Last in the procession of westbound buses, nearly twenty minutes after I reached to bus stop, came two number 18s, nose to tail! I had no clear idea of how long the journey would take so I found the email address of Carol, one of the steadfast long standing members of the congregation, and sent a message to warn her I might be delayed. We had an eccentric bus driver who sang silly songs and made lame jokes all the way there. It certainly cheered up an otherwise tense journey! Carol was looking out for me at the gate when I arrived. I actually ran a hundred yards from the bus stop down to the church, the first time I have been able to do that since I sprained my ankle last December, with no ill effect. By leg behaved itself surprisingly well today, and I arrived with couple of minutes to spare.

I joined the congregation of nine for coffee and a chat afterwards, and we had a great laugh together recalling the days of our young. Almost all were in their late seventies or eighties, and talked about the places they frequented in their youth in Cardiff. We talked about first experiences of foreign imported food, and a man and his wife told the story of how he turned up the collect his wife for their first date in a red London bus whose brakes he'd just serviced. He'd gone to collect her from home driving the bus to pick her up and take her to town. Unfortunately her parents weren't impressed, but there they were some sixty years later, anyway.

Back home on the 18 bus to Canton once more, realising on the way that I'd taken off my specs in the sacristy and left them there. Carol will bring them to the Ascension Day Mass at St Luke's which I will be celebrating tomorrow night. Our Basque neighbour Miriam was on the bus. We walked home talking in a mixture of Spanish and English. She works in a special needs school with severely disable kids the other side of Ely Vale from 'The Res'. That was a nice surprise.

After arriving home, I did some shopping, then went for a walk around the park, getting back just in time for the Archers. Afterwards, I spent the evening writing a sermon for tomorrow evening. All in all, a busy but enjoyable day.

Movie inspiration

I woke early and dozed off again, but for longer than usual, so it was half past eight when I got up, and had to rush breakfast and leave for St Peter's Fairwater  for the nine thirty Eucharist. It meant that I didn't have enough time to say Morning Prayer before starting the day. It was overcast and drizzling when I left and stayed like that until mid-afternoon. With the children there was a congregation of about forty. One of the youngsters assisted me as an altar server. He's still new to the job so it was more a case of me helping him rather than him helping me! Not that I mind, it's lovely that without their own regular pastor, people in the congregation are encouraging involvement in the service by children.

I didn't have time to socialise as I had to get to St Luke's and preach again while Fr Rhys presided at Mass. The traffic was awful and I made it to the church with just five minutes to spare. There was a meeting of the congregation afterwards to discuss which key points of action could be agreed upon to report next week at a meeting with Archdeacon Rod Green about the future of the church. There's a proposition on the table from a church planting group of evangelicals to share the church to develop ministry to young adults with families in the area. 

There's a measure of uncertainty and reserve about embracing this prospect, even if it could be to the financial benefit of the Parish congregation. St Luke's has an inclusive liberal Anglo-Catholic tradition, and the concern from some is that its 'offer' could be compromised by sharing with a more conservative set of values. It's good that some are thinking about this seriously. St Luke's was once a showcase for liberal Catholic culture and values, and at one time knew about how to evangelize. But, it has lost its way when it comes to propagating the ideals of what it stands for. An ageing congregation has run out of energy and not yet figured out how to continue to attract a new generation of seekers. Without its own priestly leadership, people are reluctant to commit themselves for as long as they have the energy to do anything at all. Lay leadership and initiative is capable of great things but changing the existing culture is painfully difficult.

I got home for lunch just before my usual time, but Clare had just started eating lunch as she thought I'd be back much later than usual. I'd mentioned that next weekend after Mass at St German's there's a Coronation cake and a glass of bubbly to be shared to toast the health of King Charles III, and she got the timing wrong, but never mind, we did get to eat together, just.

After lunch, while she was having a siesta, I recorded and edited this week's Thursday Morning Prayer. It had stopped raining by then, so I went for a walk in the park for a couple of hours. Then I returned, I settled down to watch the last four episodes of 'Non me lasciare' which, with a break for supper, took the rest of the evening. I found the whole production quite impressive, with an unexpectedly redemptive end to it, above and beyond the arresting of the baddies and breaking of the paedophile ring. The last of the rescued kidnap victims with no family of his own finds a welcome into the home of the lead investigator who lost her teenage son in a freak accident. I like the way it's presented in an understated way. 

I also liked the emphasis on trust in lasting friendship, and innovative teamwork between a group of experts who aren't for once, prima donnas in their field, bonded together by a strong sense of purpose. The lead investigators knew what they needed to know and could express this clearly enough for others to pursue from their expert angles what was needed for progress in the case. Everyone respected for what they could contribute. 

It's not competition for success, but co-operation for a common goal that matters to all that makes the future possible for us, so it's good to see this modelled in a story that has to find out many things before it can begin to solve the difficult challenge it faces. I don't think we're quite there yet with the St Luke's congregation in terms of teamwork. Confidence in each other's gifts and abilities still needs to be developed.

Oxwich yet again

Woke up at seven, interested in hearing the morning reports on the missile strike on the Polish side of the border with Ukraine. US and NATO intelligence are saying it's not a missile sent by Russia, but one of the Ukrainian anti-aircraft versions of the same Russian weapon gone off course and crashing the wrong side of the border. President Zelensky is denying this, pointing to the hundreds of missiles targeting civilian targets and energy infrastructure, declaring that the Russians have engineered this incident to look like an Ukrainian 'own goal' strike. A forensic investigation of the incident will reveal whether or not he was wise to speak out so quickly on this occasion.

I drove up to St Peter's Fairwater after breakfast to celebrate the Eucharist with two dozen faithful, and join their coffee morning afterwards. They are raising funds to support a project that works with street children in Colombia, founded by a Welsh priest who started as an Anglican and then became a Roman Catholic. Before he was ordained, he was travelling through Latin America, and lost all his possessions to thieves while staying at an hotel in Medellin. With no means of paying he was ejected by hotel staff which refused to help him. He was looked after and helped by some of the street kids of the barrio to contact his family and the consulate to arrange repatriation and never forgot this. Once he was established in ministry he started fundraising and moved to Colombia to start this remarkable work of giving youngsters a chance at life. An amazing story.

As soon as I got home, we packed the car, refuelled it at the big Tesco and then set off for the Gower. We stopped on the outskirts of Mumbles to have a picnic lunch in a car park just behind the beach. Along the bay shoreline is a metalled cycle track linking Swansea with Mumbles. This track was occupied by the Mumbles tramway until 1960. It had the distinction of being the world's first passenger carrying railway, with horse drawn vehicles running from 1807 onwards. In the summer a tourist road-train runs between Swansea and Mumbles on this track. What a difference it would make to congested roads if commuters and shoppers had an electric tram to ride on all year round today.

We reached the Oxwich Bay hotel just after three, checked in and were given key cards to our room in 'Ivy Cottage' five hundred yards up the road from the hotel, a nineteenth century stone building that had been gutted and transformed into six guest rooms with en suite bathrooms. The internal furnishings, stairway and doors were all made of light oak to a very high standard of carpentry. A very pleasant environment in which to spend a couple of nights.

We deposited our bags and went out immediately for a walk up the beach in the last hour of daylight under an overcast sky. Thankfully it didn't rain while we were out although there was intermittent rain through the day and into the evening. The tide was on its way out and we saw several family groups of Dunlin feeding and running through the surf. There were Oystercatchers out there in the distance as well, and we could hear their cry, even though they were hard to spot in fading light. Such sights and sounds make the whole trip worthwhile, even if it were to rain for the rest of our time there.

We had supper in the hotel - veggie lasagne for Clare and vegan three bean chilli stew for me, plus a date and pecan cake with ice cream to follow. Clare went back to Ivy Cottage after the meal and I went for a walk in the dark to the other end of the village. There are no street lights at all now, so as it was overcast and hard to see, I had to be careful. I walked for half an hour and only saw a couple of cars at a distance. It's a familiar place, and I've walked here before in the dark, sometimes under the full moon.

I returned to Ivy Cottage, and an hour later went out with Clare to the hotel to retrieve her medication for injection from the fridge. The night manager agreed to let her do the injection in the hotel lounge with all the doors and curtains shut, rather than traipsing back to our room to do it, and then back again to return the medication to the fridge. He was ever so good about it. All the young staff here are delightful and most helpful.

Then finally, back to our room to settle down for the night. Our bedroom looks out towards the wooded escarpment behind the bay. I wonder if we'll hear owls tonight? I think they're out there.

Welcome to wi-fi calling

More clouds and showers today. After last night's direct message exchange with the EE helpline about the booster, another response which explained exactly how to find the Android o/s option to switch on wi-fi calls from a mobile phone, with no need for a clumsy complex app to intervene in the process. I switched on Clare's phone first, but thought my Blackberry was too old to include it, but when I tried the same routine I found the switch in a menu I didn't know existed, and now we can both make wi-fi mobile calls, as long as we're within wi-fi signal range. Best of all, I don't have to buy a new phone for now.

I had a welcome email from my friend Valdo in Aigle, recommending, if I needed a new phone, the Fairphone 4 which Ann-Lise bought last year and is very pleased with. It's built to be easily repairable, is manufactured in an eco-friendly way with materials ethically sourced. It's made by a Dutch company, guaranteed life of five years, and available though EE. It costs £500 however, more than double what I have ever paid for a mobile phone. But, it would be worth it if the Blackberry died. Battery life is half what it was when new and it is rather battered looking, but it still soldiers on. In reality I don't make that much use of the phone for making calls. I use it a great deal as a pocket computer in effect, more on wi-fi than on the 4G network. I don't use the available weekly allowances with my PAYG SIM card, so taking out a monthly contract and paying for a new phone over two years, as is the standard practice nowadays, in order to have fabulous amounts of data and calling time seems a pointless expense.

I drove to St Peter's Fairwater to celebrate the midweek Eucharist with over twenty people present, and joined the congregation for coffee in the hall afterwards. Among the worshippers was Jane Fenwick, wife of Fr Richard, a priest contemporary of mine, out this morning covering someone else's midweek service. We haven't met since they both stayed with us on a visit to Geneva over twenty five years ago. That was a delightful surprise.

When I returned there was the weekly veggie bag to collect, and then after lunch a grocery shopping trip to the Co-op before taking a walk in the park. When Clare went off to her Pilates class before supper, I recorded and edited next week's Morning Prayer audio. Later, I watched this week's episode of 'Shetland' and avoided the news, which is all about the Prime Minister's first day, and how the media pundits view her performance. All pretty tiresome really. 

Visiting Fairwater Church

Cloud and rain showers returned today after quite a long absence. I woke up at seven thirty, after a good eight hours sleep, listened to the radio and then got up at eight to make breakfast. That's a pattern I'd like to sustain with no afternoon siesta. After all, it's not hot enough to justify an lie-down here after lunch, even if I am often tempted just to nod off.

At nine thirty I drove to Fairwater to St Peter's church to celebrate their ten o'clock Parish Eucharist. It's one of the few churches in Cardiff I've never been to before. It wasn't the building I thought it was, so I had to check the location on my phone. The building dates back to the inter-war period, simple in style and well appointed. The congregation of thirty which swelled to forty-five when the Sunday School came in at Communion time. 

Their arrival was unexpected. Apparently they meet on Sundays fortnightly, then on a Saturday afternoon for an outdoor session in alternate weeks, but over Easter the sequence must have been disrupted. Never mind. I had fun. The entire Sunday School sat in the empty choir stalls, which was good for having a little chat with them about what they'd been learning. Then a box of percussion instruments appeared and they all took one they could bang or shake during the final hymn. Normally a suitable hymn would have been chosen, but today's last hymn was 'Guide me O though Great Redeemer'. A joyful noise unto the Lord, but quite unsynchronised. Everyone took it in good part.

There was coffee afterwards in the church hall next door. The hall looks newer than the church and may have been rebuilt in recent years. The buildings sit on a substantial piece of land, and in the past decade or so, it has been developed as a community garden run by volunteers from church and parish.  The hall windows look out on a beautifully kept green space with trees and bushes, plus there's a patio with chairs and tables for outdoor refreshments. I was surprised there were several people in the congregation that recognised me from former times when I worked in the diocese. That doesn't happen too often these days, given that only sixteen years of my ministry took place here and I've been retired for twelve years now, part of the distant past of diocesan life.

Clare ventured out to church this morning for the first time since she got covid. Her condition is slowly improving, though 'two steps forward one step backward' seems to be the rule of progress. I went down to St Catherine's to meet her as I got home early enough to do so, but she'd already left. We met at the junction on Llandaff Road. She'd just been for a turn in Thompson's Park after the service, reluctant to socialise with so many people interested in asking how she's getting on, and not knowing what to say when progress is so erratic. She'd prepared lunch as well before going out, so when we got back home, I took over the cooking while she had a rest. All in all, I think this is an improvement on previous weeks.

I went out for a walk in the park after lunch, rather quiet today with the grass still damp from the rain. I caught sight of a Song Thrush gathering a clump of grass mowings and flying with them up into a tree to use in building a nest. 

After a couple of hours watching telly, I spent another couple of hours reading and revising my novel before turning in for bed. There's so much I wrote back in the winter three years ago that I've forgotten, so it's quite a pleasant surprise to discover how much I packed in to a work that began as a short story and took on a life of its own. Now's the time to get it under control. So far so good.

Master of design

Bright and sunny today, but with a cold wind. I went to St Catherine's and celebrated the Eucharist with seven others this morning. Mother Frances contacted me as I was about to leave for church to ask if I'd take a funeral from St Peter's Fairwater as Emma is on sick leave at the moment. This service is with local Splott based family funeral company White Rose Funerals that I've not come across before. Intriguingly, the names of family members involved in the business are Arabic. Very much a reflection of the diversity of today's Cardiff.

Clare's back is improving every so slightly, though still very painful. She bought half a dozen bedding plants when she went out for her morning walk, and after cooking and eating lunch, I planted them. Her bad back doesn't let her to do tasks like that at the moment. Then I went and collected this week's order from Beanfreaks, then slept in the chair for an hour. I mustn't complain about losing time sleeping if I wake up feeling refreshed and clear headed. It made my afternoon circuit of the park less of an effort.

In the evening I made the bereavement call to start preparing for the funeral in two weeks time, and then watched another fascinating editions of 'Secrets of the Museum', which featured the work of designer Sir Kenneth Grange, a man responsible for the form of hundreds of everyday objects, plus the Inter City 125 train during his seventy year career. He's still working at ninety two, and wouldn't think of retiring. He looks so young still doing what he's loved doing throughout his adult life. After that, I finished watching French crimmie 'Inside' set in a mental hospital - the ultimate in complex psychological drama!

New assignment

This morning after breakfast I wrote a draft of next Sunday's sermon. I'm standing in for Emma at Saint Peter's Fairwater. It'll be my first visit there. I had a phone call from Kate, one of the St Peter's wardens, to brief me about the service. 

Then, I hoovered carpets and washed floors, before cooking lunch. I had an idea to make a pasta dish using the coil in the bag mussels. First I made a creamy mushroom and onion sauce, cooked the mussels, added them to the sauce with the penne. It turned out quite well, but the sauce was a bit too runny. I'll know what do do about this next time I try it out.

When I went down to Blackweir Bridge on my afternoon walk, I spotted a cormorant swimming upstream underwater, but out of camera range unfortunately, likewise a jay in a wooded stretch by the path where I've not see one before. A little later, I saw a thrush feeding on the ground and got this photo. The first white chestnut candle blossoms are appearing now on trees in the park.

After my walk, I read the last chapter of 'Cancion de Noel'. I'm also making progress with 'Invierno en Madrid, though I still have a couple of hundred pages left to read. 

I spent the evening after supper watching episodes of a French crimmie set in a mental hospital, plus the initial episode of a new action drama offering on 5USA, 'Blacklist' which proved to be as improbable as it was convoluted, so clever it was hard to make sense of. Well, that's one to omit from my 'watch list', I reckon.