The futility of force

More blue sky and sunshine today, it really lifts my spirits. I find I don't need to sleep for quite as long and don't suffer as a result. I woke up to bad news all round however.

Hamas continues to declare resistance to Israel's unilateral cease-fire plans, continuing to favour mediated negotiations by Arab League delegates.  Areas of Palestinian land in Gaza are being annexed and occupied as 'security zones', its population forced out. The aid blockade has been going on now for a month and military activity on the ground as well as in the air intensifies. It's ethnic cleansing pure and simple. It's against international law. It's happening with American support. No good can come of this.

Trump's regime is imposing high import tariffs on foreign goods, a move sending shock waves through the global economy. It'll have a negative impact on the USA just as much as every other country, Tariffs on British goods and services are relatively low in comparison with other countries, but it's bound to affect businesses here, and wreck government budget plans that already threaten people on low incomes. If the country was in an economic mess at the start of the new Labour administration, it's worse now, and more unpredictable due to Trump's kind of leadership. 

Economic analysts are highly critical of Trump's policy, saying that has never worked and is damaging. Trying to impose change forcibly never works, but we're now in an era where those in power have abandoned persuasive discourse for political bullying. Despite election promises, we can expect higher taxes and further deterioration of living standards over the next few years, not least because of stagnation in economic growth.

Anyway, after breakfast, I worked on making the video for next week's Morning Prayer, and uploading it to YouTube. Clare started making bread and then went to the shops. By the time she returned the dough had over-risen and urgently needed knocking back and putting in baking tins just as we sat down to lunch, causing us a moment of chaos. Yeast seems to work a bit faster in mild spring weather conditions. After lunch it was my turn to go to the shops with a big rucksack for replacement stocks of different flours and plant milks. Then a walk in the park. Regrettably the sky had clouded over, though it was still 17-18C

Preparation has started for the annual Urdd seven a side rugby tournament for boys and girls teams in Pontcanna Fields next week with several tents erected in cordoned off areas, and covered paths laid out for vehicle access. I remember this event from a previous year, but don't recall such extensive arrangements being made. It's happening from 7th-11th next week, with tournaments for school years 7-13 from all over Wales. Perhaps the event has grown. We'll see.

After supper I found series three of 'Arctic Circle' a Finnish crimmie has appeared on Channel 4 Walter Presents, and spent the evening watching a couple of episodes, and then heading for bed. 

Muddy Fields

The day started with rain, but cleared up later, with the addition of strong gusts of wind. I worked most of the day on preparing Morning Prayer video upload material. First to cover for Fr Rhys this Friday, to give him some covid respite time doing nothing. I know how much I needed it this time last week. Then there's next Thursday's in addition. All the Exodus texts I've worked on lately have not been easy to reflect on, as there's so much in each that needs analysing and explaining, and extracting an overall threat from each is an unsatisfactory task. It's just small fragments from a much bigger exercise which might be entitled 'how to make intellectual and spiritual sense of the Exodus story if you're not Jewish'. We might have somewhat different priorities, especially with a war going on in Europe, about whose background us Brits have scant understanding.

After lunch I collected this week's veggie bag, had a siesta and then  walked to the Taff at tea time, where the last of the Urdd rugby tournament matches were being played on the couple of pitches that remained in action. The others already had their flags and goal safety buffers removed by this time. As it had rained, great brown mud patches were evident on many of the pitches. Players being collected by parents were hobbling to the car park in their boots with very muddy legs and sports kit, unlike the two previous days. The starlings crows and gulls would be happy with the scuffed up turf on the pitches, as it exposes insects and worms for them to eat. The footpath down to the river was treacherously slippy with mud, unlike other days. Let's hope it gets cleaned off soon, in the best interests of public safety. Still, a lovely event which I'm sure would have made a lot of people happy.

After supper, more preparation work, and then a couple of hours relaxation with the last two episodes of the Welsh crimmie 'Hidden' - very thoughtful and unsensational drama, if slow moving. Its portrayal of a man with learning needs was possible through some fine acting which gave the character dignity and depth - you admired him rather than feeling sorry for him. Well done BBC Cymru.    

No let up

A fair night's sleep, and I'm beginning to feel more like my normal self, though not entirely. It seems that for some people even when the virus has been defeated by the immune system, it leaves its calling card, an unusual symptom that comes and goes. I'm going to leave the lateral flow test to the end of today. Opinion states that a week after being infected, the risk of you still spreading infection is much lower, and that after ten days, no matter what your test states (provided that you have avoided others, and the outside chance of re-infection) you no longer need to quarantine and can resume normal duties. Thankfully, this brings me up to the day before Palm Sunday, for which I am booked at St German's. Still, it would be a relief to have negative tests again.

Clare had her osteo appointment this morning, and I cooked lunch ready for her return. She'll still be in pain, but the painful debilitating pressure on the vagus nerve starts to ease once the injury is worked on by someone who really knows how.

I did some more editing work on the Good Friday service, then sent a copy to Mother Frances to check if she thought it fitted the bill. She's pleased with it, so I can go ahead now and organise it with Monica the organist and Andrew. a little later, Mother Francis rang to say Father Rhys has just tested covid positive/ She was wondering if I could cover for him next Sunday, but I explained I was already booked. What a nightmare for her. I do hope she will be able to find a stand-in.

For a second day the Urdd rugby tournament continues in Pontcanna Fields, in cold and windy weather. It was nice to hear bi-lingual announcements from a youthful voice appealing to participants to ensure their rubbish went in the bins provided. It's all very nicely organised. The Goosander colony further down stream from the rugby pitches now seems to be settling in, not visiting. I counted half a dozen birds, two older larger ones parked on rocks, the other four practicing their formation swimming.

President Zelensky has addressed the UN Security Council and shocked members, showing video of the trail of human carnage left by retreating Russian troops. Denounced as fake by Russia's representative of course. He's calling for Russia's expulsion from the UN Security Council. Not sure how that could be done. How do you get around the veto power of China and Russia, two of the permanent five members of the Security Council? A change in constitution or standing orders or what? These are serious times and as Zelensky right says - the Council might as well dissolve itself if it cannot stop Russia now, as it is proving how useless and impotent it is in the face of real crisis. 

Well, it's bed time, and I've tested positive for covid, and not surprised. Getting rid of a runny nose takes a long time with me when a cold or 'flu is passing. My sinuses aren't swollen but just slightly sensitive, as they are from a dose of house dust or pollen. Impossible to know what's happening.

Urdd Rugby fiesta comes Taffside

The symptoms may be milder than yesterday's, fading away apart from the woolly head, but the covid test is still positive on this sixth day since I tested positive. Exclusion from all normal activity continues. So frustrating and disappointing. 

An hour's walk before lunch helped to clear my head somewhat. Yesterday afternoon, Pontcanna Fields was being quietly kitted out ready for an Urdd rugby tournament, sponsored by the Wales Rugby Union, with twenty football pitches marked and extension poles fitted to convert soccer goalposts for use in rugby matches. Today, dozens of games were in progress, many of them between girls' teams. It was a wonder to behold. 

Just think, a thousand boys and girls in groups shouting and cheering, many involved in robust physical interactions, yet with no need for external intervention. I'm not even sure if there was a police van on site, let alone any officers on patrol. An amazing tribute to the quality of youth work for which Urdd Gobaith Cymru - the Welsh League of Youth, is famed for. Credit to the WRU for nurturing sporting enthusiasm and participation. Even though team sports don't interest me much, I'm so proud to be Welsh, 

The tide of indignation against the atrocities of Putin and his gang continues, but who can break the power their lies hold over a hundred million citizens with no access to alternatives to Kremlin propaganda? Already there have been fourteen hundred Ukrainian civilian deaths due to the criminal conduct of this war. What happened in Aleppo and Grosny is being repeated. Previously, the reaction was no more than reproach, and the evil just carry on doing evil if the good stand by and do nothing.

Military strategists are of the opinion that Russia cannot win a long war for lack of trained experienced personnel, let alone equipment. They say Putin must not win for any chance of regime change to arrive as an eventual outcome. What actions can effect a necessary change, apart from economic sanctions and pouring more armaments into Ukraine?  Talk about banning coal and oil trade with Russia is a measure which, if undertaken, could cause suffering for tens of millions across Europe. Would masses of people outraged by what they are learning be willing enough to suffer deprivation voluntarily to achieve this objective?

The most disturbing photograph I caught sight of today on line, showed Putin naked to the waist standing in the baptismal pool of an Orthodox church. I have seen him crossing himself publicly and presumed it was what his granny taught him when he was young. The photo shows him aligning himself politically socially as well as religiously with traditional Russian culture and its aspirations. He claims to have been secretly brought to baptism as an child by his Christian mother, and maybe the photo was of an Epiphany baptismal renewal ceremony. If his faith is important to him, how can he condone the perpetration of such violence in the name of Christ, let alone Holy Russia?

Just before the five o'clock news we had a power blackout. Clare called Western Power Distributors, and learned that, not for the first time, a squirrel had cooked itself on the transformer of the local electricity sub-station. It was all over in fifteen minutes. Quite a quick response, fortunately.

I spent the evening editing the Good Friday Vigil liturgy I've been constructing, getting it down to one hour, with a break to watch this week's new NCIS episode.

A feat of organisation

I celebrated the Eucharist with five others this morning. As it's half term, several regulars were away. We were expecting an ex-colleague of Clare's and his family for lunch, but they had to cancel at the last minute, so we ate half of the special vegan recipe quiche Clare cooked to try out for the occasion, and will be able to enjoy the other half later in the week, since it proved to be a success.

After a siesta, there was work to do on preparing the orders of service for next weeks funerals, then I went into town and took a few more photos of the St David's site, as the very last bay of the building had been reduced to half its height since yesterday, and the last section of scaffolding surrounding it was being dismantled. A huge mound of rubble remains to be cleared, but I noticed when I peeked through the gate at the east end of the site that half has already been cleared to ground level.

Quietly, each working day a fleet of lorries plies discreetly to and fro, slipping into the stream of city buses using the narrow streets north of Wood Street as their turning circle and stop-over spot when changing drivers. Despite occasional hiccups and delays, the bus services out of the city centre keep running, and demolition detritus keeps moving away to landfill, an impressive feat of organisation. A couple of weeks more and the site will be flat and empty, ready for turning into a public open space with trees and paving. Then perhaps, work on the new bus station will start in earnest.

In the evening, we watched a S4C programme of highlights from the Urdd Eisteddfod performances of the day. Hundreds of children from Welsh language schools all over Wales, mostly in small groups, enthusiastically singing their hearts out with expressive shining eyes. What a delight!

Urdd showcase

The afternoon Clare went to Dinas Powis to spend the night with her colleague Jacquie, whose late husband Russell's funeral is to be held in the Wenallt Chapel at Thornhill Crematorium next Saturday morning. I accompanied her in the car as far as the outskirts of Penarth, then walked from there down through the Marina to the Barrage.

The tide was right out, and the sea lock was in operation, for the benefit of a few yachts and fishing boats. I stopped and took photos, and found myself transported to far off places by the sound of the lock gates closing and opening, the roar and scent of  fresh water expelled into the sea. Whether it was the Vienna locks on the Danube or Iffezheim am Rhine, it's the same experience. I just love that environment, and look forward to another cruise when I can travel again. Either on the Duoro or the Rhone, hopefully.

Plas Roald Dahl is now fully occupied with Pavilions and pop up fast food places, ready for the start of the Urdd Eisteddfod running all through half term week from the opening concert tomorrow night. A wonderful fiesta of gifted youth, keen to sing and dance and recite in public. It's marvellous that entrance to events and exhibitions on the 'Maes' is free, as it was for the National Eisteddfod last summer. you just pay to get into the Millennium Centre for performances and concerts staged therein. It's a credit to the City Council to invest in Welsh Arts and Culture in this way.

When I arrived home, there was a messing on the answering machine from cousin Ivor, from whom I have heard nothing for over a year. I knew he'd been in hospital with diabetes related illness, and had been deteriorating due to self neglect. I wrote to him at the time, aware of the difficult I might have at calling a mobile phone at his bedside. In fact, I wasn't sure if I had the right number as he'd changed or lost a phone previously and hadn't kept kept the number.

I called him back, pleased to find that I did have the right number, for future reference. He'd gone through a long spell of rehabilitation with success, and is now back at home. Best of all, he's finally writing the biography of his architectural mentor and role model Leslie Martin, something he's been promising himself to get on with ever since he retired, but never got around to. Already he's half way through the writing stage, loving the task and finding renewed enthusiasm for what he does well. Becoming a grandfather this year was a big boost to his spirits. Sarah his daughter has followed in her father's footsteps and qualified as an architect after a first class degree in pottery, and she's already producing work he delights in. Nice to have some good news for a change.
 

In the evening, I watched the last double episode of Canadian crimmie 'Cardinal', with a somewhat predictable ending. The landscape is a beautiful backdrop to the drama, but its seasons and weather don't play a part in this 'back of the beyond' story, as happens in BBC Wales' 'Hinterland' or 'Rebecka Martenson: Arctic Murders', to name two series that get it right.

  

Farewell sofas and national commemorations

I watched part of this morning's service from Glasgow Cathedral for the start of the national day of commemoration of the centenary of the outbreak of World War One. A sombre occasion, made even more sombre by the realities of current conflicts in Gaza, Syria, Iraq, Pakistan, Afghanistan, Southern Sudan, Libya and Ukraine.

At  lunchtime, a local house clearance firm called Second Hand UK sent a furniture van around to collect a couple of sofas that have adorned the lounge in the succession of homes we've made since we first bought them fourteen years ago in Geneva. The accompanying armchair was disposed of when we downsized for retirement. 

Now at last, with a new pair of sofas on order from Scotts of Stow, not quite so large, and anatomically more of a match for our need to support ageing bodies, we're moving from stylish Italo-Suisse leather to traditional British upright fabric design, a decent height, comfortable with a straight back. They'll arrive in early  September. How often I have snoozed on the larger of the two sofas, up until yesterday, after lunch. No more lounging in the lounge now. The new arrivals are just a little shorter, but they'll make the room feel a bit more spacious.

Clare and I sat and watched together the second commemorative service of the day, the Wales national vigil broadcast from Llandaff Cathedral. Preparations for this have been going on over the past couple of years. I had to pass over the opportunity to be involved in it, on behalf of the Royal British Legion, as at that time I'd just accepted to do my first long locum in Costa Azahar. It was good to see how well the planning efforts worked out, and how broad a representation of people in public life and service was achieved. 

Archbishop Barry preached very well, and bi-lingually. In fact the whole service embraced both our national languages, incorporating a Welsh poem 'Rhyfel' (War) by wartime poet Hedd Wyn. He was killed in action before he knew that he'd been awarded the national Eisteddfod chair for another much longer poem. The service also included an appeal to world leaders for reconciliation and peace-making  from two members of Urdd Gobaith Cymru, the Welsh young people's organisation which champions cultural life and creativity in a remarkable and enthusiastic way.

In response to the Royal British Legion's national call for 'Lights out' as it got dark, from 10-11.00pm, recalling UK Foreign Secretary Sir Edward Grey's remark on this evening when war was declared a century ago tonight, that the lights were going out all over Europe, we sat and watched with just a candle in the front room window. I peeped out in the street near the end. We appeared to be the only household doing this. I guess many people are just too busy to look back and wonder how it all went wrong, and why we seem to have learned so little from the conflicts of the twentieth century.