Another Bristol trip

Another day of clouds and sunshine, and a short walk after cooking and eating lunch, before we drove to Bristol for another very beneficial osteo treatment. While Clare was being treated, I walked around Durdham Down. I haven't done that for fifty years, since we were both students at Bristol University.

Wales On-line published an obituary of Paul Williams today, and his son James sent me a link to the webcast of his funeral, at which I will be officiating next Monday. Given how well known he was, to have a much wider audience than the dozen family members at the crem poses a challenge of a kind I haven't had before. This will require extra thought and preparation to do him the justice I think he merits. 

It was good to hear today that weekday services in church are now under consideration. Tomorrow we have another coffee morning in St Catherine's grounds, a chance for the Wednesday group to meet in the meanwhile.

Another Bristol trip and Journal's end

I woke up bright and early this morning and breakfasted with Clare before she went for her walk. The early start got me outdoors before lunch too, and as I was walking along Wyndham Crescent was delighted to see a dozen swifts spectacularly swirling over the street at high speed as they fed. The last time I saw swifts flying through a built up location was seven years ago in Nerja which overlooks the sea.

It suggests a cloud of insects had been blown by the wind half a mile across from the river Taff and the parks where they breed. I also wondered if it was a sign that they flying ant invasion which was mentioned in recent news has reached here. It was reported that an unusually large cloud of insects had been observed heading across the Channel into south east England, so large its was spotted on satellite radar. Probably not though. Our winds and weather tend to come from the west.

Finally, after my walk, I completed the task of translating our 1967 Greek travel diary. It's been an enjoyable labour of love, working in bursts this past month, and fascinating to glimpse our younger selves exploring a different culture as a young married couple in our early twenties. My writing, as well as being untidy is a collection of very scrappy notes, with lots of references to the times when things happened, incomplete descriptions and references to people we met, and not enough about places we visited. More like a laboratory notebook than a travel journal. Still,  It's good to revisit my younger self in this way and realise how much the form and content of my writing has changed. Quite a contrast to Clare's well ordered handwritten contributions, recognisably the same through the fifty three years that have elapsed since then.

We returned to Cardiff after our month in Greece and I started training at St Mike's. That was when I really had to develop the skill of expressing myself in writing. This was the first of many journals I wrote over the next forty years, before I signed up to Blogger in 2006 and went digital.

We drove to Bristol again this afternoon for back to back osteo appointments. While I was already much improved since our last visit, the in-depth work Ruth did on my right 'glut' muscle system made a noticeable difference. Clare said the same after her appointment.

While I was waiting for Clare, I had an email from Sarah Jones, priest in charge of St John's City Parish Church telling my that Paul Williams, the City Centre Manager died on Sunday, and giving me the contact details of Steve Barrett, Paul's retired former deputy as he wanted to get in touch with me. We chatted for half an hour, remembering the man and agreeing that when restrictions ease there should be an opportunity for old friends and colleagues to meet and celebrate his life, though how and when is going to remain undetermined for now. Paul was sixty four, and had been living and still working with cancer for the past few years. He was a very private man who never burdened others with his any of his concerns, so his death will come as a shock to many, as he would have been working from home up until fairly recently.

As we were leaving Bristol I filled the car with fuel, the first time since the end of February, thirty three litres over five months, perhaps the lowest fuel consumption of any period since we started driving back in 1970. Multiply that by several million cars, and it's no wonder there's been a slump in oil consumption and fuel prices during the pandemic. It may be a cause of consternation for the global economy, but it's been good for the environment.

We've talked of getting rid of the car, and just using public transport as we'd prefer to, but using public transport is now far riskier as a result of the pandemic, and we can't afford to exchange the Polo for a hybrid or electric car. We're stuck now with choices made two years ago. Driving along the M49, along the periphery of Avonmouth and Severnside's industrial zone, I think I spotted ten big wind turbines among the factories and warehouses. That's double the number I counted a couple of years ago. The region around Bristol is a front runner on the greening of industry. Would that Wales' Severn Barrage project had not been vetoed by the English government. South East Wales, across the Severn Estuary is still playing catch-up
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Westbury Park remembered

A sunny day, though still not with summer warmth. My back stiffness and pain subsided quite a lot overnight and it didn't take me so long to get mobile. After lunch Clare drove me over to Westbury Park in Bristol for my osteo treatment. It took me ages beforehand to fill in the forms which were emailed me but it all made good sense as preparation for Ruth the therapist who was to treat me. It's the first long drive Clare has done since February, and she insisted on driving back as well, so her confidence hasn't been eroded by the long layoff.

The Vital Health Clinic in North View is a few doors away from St Alban's Parish Hall, closed for community activities currently, its doors and windows covered with notices about continuing Parish engagement in Foodbank collections, and information about on-line services. I had quite forgotten that it's an Ecumenical Parish, of Anglicans and Methodists congregations. Bristol Diocese pioneers these back in the 1970s. 

In 1983 we lived for a year in St Alban's Vicarage in Canowie Road, during an interregnum, while I took a sabbatical year out to train as a secondary RE teacher. I didn't do locum duties in St Alban's Parish but was assigned to Holy Trinity Westbury on Trim as an honorary assistant priest for Sunday and occasional weekday duties. It was such a change to move from the energetic multi-cultural working class community of the St Paul's area to living in a sedate middle class part of the city with its wealthy and well attended churches. 

I guess I was well occupied with learning new disciplines and skills during that year, as I don't remember a great deal of what it was like living and leading worship there. What I do remember vividly was Clare and I taking a romantic train trip to Venice for Carnevale and a quiet Canadian student called Linda Maine looking after the children for the inside of a week.

The clinic has two therapists working out of a small converted terraced house with its front door on the pavement. Everything about the practice was beautifully and strictly organised with precautions against virus contagion properly and systematically observed. The treatment was beneficial and also helpful n that Ruth explained as she went along what had gone wrong and what she was working on. It certainly made me think about my habitual stance, and the subtle impact of having had surgery in the lower right side of my body - three times so far in the perineum and once for a hernia repair. It's something to take into account, to be aware of and making allowances for.

I felt much better afterwards, back pain almost gone, my neck so much freer and my head clearer than it has been for weeks. Both of us are booked in for a treatment in ten days time. Clare has been having headaches which, by a process of elimination with our GP, leads to the conclusion that the problem is in the neck.

We were home again by six, a pleasant drive home as the roads were not too congested. Pollution monitoring services are saying that atmospheric nitrous oxide has not yet returned to pre-lockdown levels, despite road traffic increasing since restrictions were eased. It seems that vehicle usage has not yet returned to previous levels so traffic congestion is still lower than normal, and a noticeable decrease in pollution from emissions is the result. Must we return to the way things were? Haven't we yet learned the lesson that ridding ourselves of diesel powered vehicles (a key emitter of nitrous oxide pollution) is essential for everyone's health? How many people have had their body's ability to cope with covid-19 undermined by having to live in a polluted atmosphere? 

After supper I watched a couple more episodes of Non Uccidere. I had intended to watch Huey Morgan's programme on Cuban music, but for some annoying reason the iPlayer stream kept on freezing probably due to demand. I'll have to watch on catch-up instead.

    

Walking warily

Overcast, cold and rainy all day. Twice I got wet going out for some exercise. My back wasn't quite as painful, after a night's rest and a massage with some Rhus Tox ointment, which seems to be more effective than a gel, laced with ibuprofen. I had to warm up and get moving slowly, thinking about every move carefully, to avoid making a movement that would pinch the nerve which yesterday got trapped for a while. 

Clare left a message for osteomyologist Clive Taylor, and he called back this morning to tell us that due to covid-19 restrictions he cannot work for the time being, unless he lives in isolation from his wife while he is working. Then if he wants to go home and be with her, he has to self quarantine in his workplace for a fortnight. He recommended me to a colleague at the Vital Health Chiropractice Clinic in Westbury Park Bristol. This practice is able to work, having succeeded in fulfilling all the stringent requirements of managing patients safely and having acquired the necessary personal protection equipment. I rang up and was able to book an appointment for Friday next week. Hopefully if I take enough care and don't have any accidents I can cope until then without making things worse.

My sister Pauline's funeral was streamed life from Worle Crematorium at three thirty this afternoon. Clare and I set together and joined in. All went as planned, but it was indeed a strange experience for us as it was for her son Jules in Dubai. Owain went to represent our side of the family, and went back to the family home in Bleadon Hill for tea with Nicky and her family. There were eight mourners at the Crem, and  many more following on-line. All Pauline's surviving cousins are of an age which bars them from all but essential local travel for the time being. It's good to see the way in which all aspects of public life are adapting to defend clientele from virus contagion. It's also worrying that there are so many individuals who wilfully ignore common sense in order to socialise and have a good time. Why do people take such stupid risks, with their own health and that of others?