Pot art pictured

Up just after eight and making breakfast before a morning of housework distributing this week's liturgical readings and attending to emails. Andrew came at midday to go over a list of Holy Week services for use in. There's a lot to cover between Rhys and himself.  It's another six weeks before Sion joins the team. It's not Andrew's first multi church ministry area but he was in a rural setting previously. The demands and challenges are somewhat different in a collection of diverse urban villages, especially when he's still getting to know them. I'm sure he will enjoy the good-will of all congregation members, but as there are a few necessary changes from previous years, it's essential that correct information goes out from the start.

Our friend Manel in Geneva sent me the email address of Dagmar, daughter of my recently departed friend Alec, to enable me to send a message of condolence. A reply arrived just before Andrew did. I was delighted to learn she's now a Professor in the Geneva University Institute of Family Medicine. I was also surprised a while back to learn that one of the teenagers I prepared for Confirmation in those days is now a court judge in the Canton. I'd love to know what some of the other youngsters I worked with in those days are doing now, twenty five years on.

Coincidentally, I had an email from the current organist at Holy Trinity Geneva, who is bringing the choir over in the first week of August to sing Choral Evensong several days at Llandaff Cathedral. His predecessor from out time, Keith Dale is coming as well it seems. As it's summer we'll be here. Two years ago the choir of St Paul's Clifton came for the same purpose to sing at the Cathedral. It was the choir Clare and I sang in when we were students.

Clare cooked a curry for lunch. I was going to Martin's for lunch, but couldn't resist a half portion before driving to Newport, where I later had a large bowl of chicken soup with him. The purpose of my visit was to take a batch of trial photos of a small selection of his best Japanese decorated pottery out of a collection of 350 pieces, including a 70 piece tea set, ornamental pots nearly a metre tall, and small bowls that fit in the palm of the hand. 

He picked up at auction a folding silk screen with a Japanese rural landscape painted on it, and wanted to see if this was suitable to use as a backdrop, standing on a table. Together with a silk cloth to hide a flat cardboard box to serve as a display base, this turned out to be a simple effective measure. Lighting the pots displayed was much more of a challenge, due to their glazed surfaces. By trial and error, moving the display in relation to various light sources, it was possible to minimise reflections, but not eliminate them. I took twenty one pictures using seven pots with my Olympus OMD E-M10 and was satisified with the limited result possible in domestic conditions. 

To take high quality photos good enough to be used in a brochure or photo-book the table would need to be set up in a white room or tent with the camera on a tripod. Martin wanted the photos as proof of concept to show a friend we met at a big party last summer, who teaches photography at Newport Uni. He has all the best equipment. We have yet to get started on cataloguing any of his collection.. A massive job.

I drove home just before sunset, and went straight out to Llandaff Fields and walked until supper at seven. Afterwards, I went out and walked again for an hour, to complete my daily target in the dark. Invigorating and relaxing after an intense day of active concentration. I shall sleep well tonight.

Mothering Sunday

A return to days of cloud and rain threatening to get worse as the week goes on. When I drove to Saint German's to celebrate Mass for the last time before Fr Jarel the new priest in charge, is licensed a week next Saturday crowds were gathering in the city centre ignoring the lights and swarming over the road to visit the Castle, before this afternoon's international rugby Wales versus France rugby match. No police officers to be seen anywhere. 

We were forty in church, including two mothers with small children, also Hosain an Iranian asylum enquiring about getting baptized, seemingly unaware, from what I understood, that doing this before being granted residency would do his case no good, now the light of suspicion by tribunal judges is cast on anyone doing this, as several serious criminal offenders were found to have been baptized and then granted residency. I explained that baptism preparation would take many months if not years depending on how much a candidate needed to learn. I discussed this with Basma after speaking to Hosain. She said she knew of other asylum seekers who sought baptism with no intention of genuinely converting to Christ.

By the time I reached home for lunch today it was two o'clock. I was grateful that Clare had cooked and kept a meal for me, especially as she was poorly with a cold and unable to go to church this morning. I've had the same symptoms, but milder, and am recovering so far more quickly. After eating, I went out and walked for and hour and a half in Thompsons Park and Llandaff Fields, calling in at the Co-op for some bananas and honey en route.

We are supper together, then Clare went to bed. I spent the evening preparing next week's edition of Sway and making the slide video for my Passiontide Morning Prayer honouring the memory of Thomas Cranmer, one of the great innovative artists of the Word in creating the English Book of Common Prayer, and burned at the stake, for refusing to comply with King Henry's decision to take the Church of England out of communion with Rome. It's surprising he hasn't been declared a martyr for Christian unity. I also wrote and recorded more talks for Basma. I got quite a lot done in just a few hours.

Afternoon opera and loss of a friend

After a Saturday morning lie-in, waffles for breakfast. Then I went for an hour's walk in the park to get some exercise before an early snack lunch. Then we drove to the Millennium Centre for a WNO opera matinée at three. 

This time, it was a new production of Benjamin Britten's last opera 'Death in Venice'. It was different from anything we've seen before with a troupe of five NoFitState circus artists integrated into the performance, representing youngsters having fun on the Venice Lido beach, slack-lining and tumbling in amazing balletic routines, plus corde lisse  rope ballet, representing the turmoil of thoughts and emotions in the protagonist's mind. It happened during the music and singing, not as a show within a show. 

The combination of music and movement I found emotionally powerful. Marc Le Brocq sang Aschenbach superbly. He was on-stage for nearly all of the two hours forty minutes performance. The stage was bare apart from ladders at the sides used by the circus artists, and a few movable props to symbolise the change of setting, in addition to a video backdrop of the sea, Venice and a hotel.

The melancholic musical ethos reminded me of his 'War Requiem' and 'Curlew River'. It evoked an artist in later life reflecting on his literary vocation during a spell of writer's block, who is deeply disturbed by the awakening of an attraction to a young man called Tadzio, who has no singing role, but is represented by leading male circus virtuoso artist Anthony César doing gymnastic moves on the beach. Its getting good reviews in the press. Well deserved, I reckon.

We drove home as the sun was setting, and I cooked a pasta dish for supper. Then I had a message from our friend Manel in Geneva to say that Alec Hester had died, getting on for a hundred I believe. With his wife Ann-Marie, we was one of Holy Trinity Church's most long standing members, being one of the early British post doctoral physicists to work at CERN, marry and then spend the rest of their lives together living in a house right next to the French border, not far from where he worked. 

Each year when I was Chaplain in Geneva, we would prepare the annual Nine Lessons and Carols service booklet together for the big Christmas Eve service in Saint Pierre, using his Apple Mac - he was an early adopter. They were a most hospitable couple, welcoming church groups to their home for fellowship over a meal or working party activities. I officiated at their younger daughter's wedding too. They lived in the same house for over sixty years, well into their nineties, before needing care in a nursing home. We met thirty two years ago, and were still exchanging Christmas news and greetings until covid disrupted all our lives. It must be ten years since we last visited them. He was a wonderful, thoughtful gentle soul. May he rest in peace.

Rush hour syndrome

Another cold but sunny day. I was the last to get up at eight. After breakfast, I worked on my sermon for Sunday. Then Owain and I drove to Penarth for a walk along the clifftop path. Clare was still fighting off a cold and stayed home. The coast path has almost dried out now and it's far less treacherous underfoot, so we could walk without getting muddy all the way to St Peter's Lavernock. We stopped for a coffee and a high cost low quality sandwich at Cioni's on the way back to the car. 

The traffic queue getting out of Penarth doubled our return journey time. It's the same mid afternoon all around the city these days. Nowhere escapes rush hour syndrome despite efforts made at improving traffic flow. Buses to tempt people out of their cars and back on to public transport are far less frequent than they used to be. The excuse is that there's a shortage of trained drivers, but reduced service frequency on some routes may be due to cost cutting. 

After two years in profit, Cardiff Bus lost nearly two million pounds last year. The number of electric buses and low emission diesel vehicles has grown quickly, in response to the urgent need to cut polluting emissions, but changing the habit car owning commuters has yet to happen. Rail networks are being upgraded slowly, improving the ease of commuting to and from the Valleys, but it'll be a few more years yet before it's quicker to get around the periphery of the city by train than using a car or bus.

When we reached home, Owain took his leave on us and went out to meet friends in the park before going to the station for a train back to Bristol. He's got a DJ gig on-line gig tomorrow to prepare for and likes to take his time about it.

After supper I spent the evening watching the final episodes of 'Above Suspicion', dating from 2012. Another gritty story well produced, but what I noticed was the first appearance of a large mobile touch screen in the police incident room. There were still mountains of paper documents, and the mobile phone screens were larger than in earlier episodes, but pre-Android smartphones. A snapshot of a previous age in the evolution of technology we now take for granted. One thing that changes little when seen on screen is the Apple Macbook, with its distinctive aluminium case design and iconic logo in the middle of the lid. It's truly timeless classic design, regardless of its electronic innards. When watching long life TV series, it's geeky amusement to spot the tech' evolution in scenes involving computers and try to guess the date the episode was made.

Shut but not locked

I was awake early this morning and posted today's YouTube link to WhatsApp just after seven, then went back to sleep until ten to nine. After breakfast, Clare went to the eye clinic for another brief session as a test subject for a new piece of eye monitoring technology. I went to St John's for the Eucharist via Tesco's to get some foodbank supplies. Linda was standing outside the church, the door was shut and nobody was around. We waited until half past ten and still nobody came, so I handed over my foodbank goods to her, as she and David her husband take responsibility for ferrying donations to the foodbank depot. 

Later I found out that the door, although shut was not locked, Fr Andrew and Ruth were inside waiting for others to arrive. The door latch is made of cast iron and is very stiff, difficult to open, as its exterior iron ring handle went missing years ago and has never been replaced. Turning the spindle after unlocking is quite difficult, which is why normally anyone unlocking the door leaves it ajar. I didn't think to check as I could see no lights on inside the church, and took Linda's word for it when she found it shut and assumed it must be locked. Hers was the only car outside. Fr Andrew goes around by bike. Ah well lessons learned by all. One of these days, that iron ring handle will be replaced.

As I was home earlier than usual, I started work on Passiontide Morning Prayer and Reflection, then recorded it. We had a light lunch, anticipating eating a cooked meal for supper when Owain arrives. Afterwards I walked to Aldi's to get some Brazil nuts. Worth the effort as they are half the price there than there are in the Coop, for some strange reason. We prepared supper, but learned from Owain that he'd been delayed at the dentists, so we set aside a meal for him and ate ours at our usual supper time. It was nine by the time he arrived, bearing two bunches of flowers, as it's Mothering Sunday weekend. Clare had already gone to bed, fighting off a cold, so we sat and chatted, and then sat in front of laptops watching different videos. When I was ready to go to bed I realise that I'd forgotten to send out the link to this week's Sway this afternoon, and did that before turning in.

Budget day

A gloriously sunny early Spring day to wake up to. A digital poster for Sway was sent to me to publicise Fr Sion's licensing on 28th April, but the text size was too small and it had redundant text in it, so I had to edit the jpeg file using Gimp. It's a task I rarely have to do, and find very tricky indeed as a result. Gimp is as complex as Photoshop, but not as user friends. There must be other ways to achieve the same objective, but researching them and practicing takes even more time, so I persisted and got where I needed ro go, at the cost of nearly being late for church.

There were eight of us with Fr Andrew for his first St Catherine's Wednesday Eucharist. It was Paul's birthday, so we had cake with our drinks in the church hall afterwards. Andrew walked with me to Chapter to pick up this week's veg bag, then we set together in the quiet area and mapped out the services for Holy Week in preparation for next week's Sway publicity blitz. When I reached home at one I cooked lunch. We had agreed that we'd eat in the evening because Owain is coming to join us, but Clare out in the garden tidying up, got the day wrong. It's tomorrow he comes!

After lunch I drew up a Holy Week service schedule and emailed it to Andrew for checking, then I went to the Coop for the rest of this week's groceries. I had another migraine aura, following one as I was cooking. It's not happened to me before. I think it's due to stiff neck muscles from sleeping awkwardly. I forces me to stop and rest while massaging my neck and jaw to  ease the pressure. Time out, whether I want it or not.

It's budget day in Parliament, a last ditch effort by the Chancellor to woo back lost voters when the Tories are so unpopular and polling low. How will the financial markets react to this, and media commentariat. Then, how will the electorate react, and will it lead to an early election, or the government hanging on for grim death until they have to, to make it as difficult as possible for any party coming into government to pick up the threads and repair the damage? Interesting times.

When the aura dissipated I walked for an hour and escaped a headache.  After supper, with nothing else to do, I carried on watching more episodes of 'Above Suspicion'. An interesting police procedural with one female detective in a bullish male investigative team. Her quiet gentle method contrast with those of her colleagues, but her detailed observation often uncover crucial evidence unnoticed by others. Unless she gets a word in edgeways. The dynamics of relationships portrayed are as interesting as the crimes under investigation are particularly nasty. I'm still trying to date the series, which from my observations make it pre-smartphone. Over ten years ago. Still mountains of non-digitized paper files on desks. I checked the series on IMDB, and it dates back to 2009-12. So I wasn't far out.

On another waiting list

I woke up later than intended this morning, as I had another visit to the School of Optometry to complete the eye test started on my last visit, so I had to drive there instead of walking as I'd intended. At the end of  the test, I was told I'm now be referred to the hospital for a second cataract operation. It means I'll go on a waiting list, with no idea how long it will be before I'm treated. It's better than not being ready for referral. The School's car park was full, so I had to park in Lidl's car park just down the street, convenient enough as there were several items on the grocery shopping list that I could buy before returning home. 

Clare was out at her study group, so I cooked a prawn risotto with mushrooms and broccoli for our lunch  and was pleased with the result. I walked into town and back with no particular aim in mind. Daffodils in their thousands, different varieties of them, are in full bloom along the banks of the Taff, a lovely sight.

I had supper on my own, as Clare was out again for meditation group. Before and after eating I had some work to do on Sway, and completed another couple of talks to for Basma. One I started yesterday turned into two somehow. Then I watched another episode of 'Above Suspicion', a harrowing story of a serial killer who had been so terribly abused as a child that he took vengeance on his prostitute mother and her associates by murdering them all when he grew up, and doing so became addicted to killing women. The man's confession gave an insight into horrible things detectives are witness to, that may not get mentioned in the press if not relevant to obtaining a conviction. The way the abused become abusers is plain to see, as is being played out so tragically in Israel and Palestine, part of a pattern reaching back thirty centuries. Still no sign of a deal being agreed on a cease-fire in Gaza, and accepted by the Israeli government, while things get worse for the victims day by day.

Stations on Monday

Up at eight, on another cold damp day. Routine housework after breakfast, then preparation of the six month's worth of material I've used in making Sway to prepare for an afternoon session on Sway with Paul, who will be taking over the editorial job after Easter. Thankfully, she's tech' savvy, and introducing her to the basic process was less difficult than I thought it might be. After a two hour session Fr Andrew dropped in to say hello and answer a couple of enquiries, and then left with Paula to spend time getting to know her, as he'll be working with her as Sway editor in future.

I drove through rush hour traffic to reach St German's for Stations of the Cross followed by Mass at half past six. It took half an hour, but that's no worse than the journey in reverse on a Sunday lunchtime. There were eighteen of us for Stations, and nine stayed for Mass. Prof Norman Doe and his wife attended and gave much needed musical support to the singing of Stabat Mater verses in between Stations. Norman had a trip to Istanbul before Christmas to a gathering of Orthodox hierarchs convened by Ecumenical Patriarch Bartholemew to celebrate the publication of an English edition of his research work on Orthodox Canon Law. As international Canon Law colleagues Norman had helped with preparing this publication, and he was treated to a private audience in addition to attending the public one. A unique experience!

I got home a lot quicker than it took me to drive to church, had a late supper, and then watched a crimmie called 'Above Suspicion' which I found on ITVX. Clare wanted to watch 'Mr Bates versus the Post Office' but discovered that our TalkTalk digibox wasn't upgrading the old ITV hub to ITVX, so she had to watch it on her tablet instead. There we were, the two of us, side by side with headphones on, watching different things on our mobile digital devices, with the telly in the corner switched off. The shape of things to come.

Basma emailed saying that her tribunal hearing had gone well. The judge had spoken to her reassuringly. She can expect a formal decision in a fortnight and has the right to submit a new appeal immediately after a refusal of residency. Let's hope it doesn't come to that. I sent her another talk, the fifteenth in the series I have done, to prepare her for baptism, and started writing a couple more. 

I think today is the first time since I was last poorly when I completed half of my daily walking distance. Too much else to do, not to mention the awful weather for much of the day.

Turning a page

I woke up after eight, and had breakfast. Clare was already up and had eaten. Kath and Rhiannon emerged an hour later. Today's united Parish Eucharist was at eleven. It was Clare's turn on the post service drinks rota, so she had to leave early. I followed half an hour later. The church hall was laid out with tables and a huge bring and share buffet for the Parish Lunch to follow the service. Unfortunately there was a power cut, so it was impossible to serve hot drinks until a couple of large pans of water were boiled on the hall's gas hob, which took time afterwards.

Fr Andrew celebrated bilingually and preached in English. There were about seventy of us in church along with a dozen children. A group from St Peter's Fairwater who had an earlier service with him, came for the lunch, which was most encouraging.  I wish something could be done about the timing of the entrance of the Sunday School children into the service at Communion time. They entered noisily during the Eucharistic Prayer. During the offertory hymn would be better to avoid this. When Andrew finished the Eucharistic Prayer, he paused and rescued the situation by getting everyone to be silent together before introducing the Lord's Prayer. 

It didn't help that the church public address system wasn't working, though both the overhead infra red heaters and central heating radiators were working, thankfully. Pavements at the end of King's Road around the corner from the church were dug up and cordoned as work was being done on underground infrastructure forcing pedestrians to walk in the road. It seems one of the three electrical current phases used in power supply had been cut, and that was why the hall supply was cut off. It didn't dampen the spirits of a lunch gathering, with about ninety people. It was a happy occasion, and the first to assemble members from four of the six Ministry Area churches to eat together. 

Clare and I didn't stay, however, as Kath offered to cook lunch for us, so that we would eat together before they set out for Kenilworth. It was gone three when they left, with Rhiannon driving. It took them four hours to reach home instead of the usual two, as Rhiannon is a learner driver and not allowed on motorways, so they went up the A48 all the way to Gloucester, before joining the A46 to take them north east to Warwick, then Kenilworth. It was lovely to have Rhiannon with us for four days, and Kath for the weekend. While Rhiannon was with us she had a successful telephone interview for another job on the role playing team of actors at Warwick Castle, where she worked last summer and autumn.

After they left us, Clare and I went for a walk in the park with afternoon sunshine to cheer us. While walking, after Clare returned home, I listened to the two episodes of 'The Archers' I missed in the week, to catch on them up before today's episode after the news at seven. There was several interesting story threads at the moment, including one about the felling of ancient oak trees without preservation orders on them, by developers lacking a sufficiently broad enough environmental conscience - shades of HS2 construction -  although we've seen old trees taken down by housing developers in town, and wonder how they got away with it, given local protest. 'The Archers' is still fulfilling its original educational role in portraying rural affairs.

I worked on preparations for next week's Sway in advance of tomorrow's session with Paula, who has volunteered to take on the editor's role after Easter. She's coming around after lunch, for an introduction to software unfamiliar to her. This afternoon I emailed her the weekly work schedule which I inherited from Frances and have followed ever since. I think she'll take it in her stride and get used to it quickly. I worked with her for a while on the staff team at St Mike's twelve years ago. She taught history there until she retired, and is a member of St Luke's congregation. So pleased we have found someone in good time, so that the Sway handover won't be a last minute panic, as mine was.

I'm glad today has been such a positive one for the life of West Cardiff Parish Churches. Glad also that Sway can have a future without relying on me. I think I've kept it going at least to my own satisfaction this past six months and learned new things. Even so, a little voice within me has been saying 'Enough!' this past few months. Not so tired as to be making a mess of doing it, carried along by a disciplined routine, but a voice calling out for a more creative kind of work, not just routine maintenance. When I have more freedom, what will I do with it? I don't know yet.

WNO's new take on Cosi fan Tutti

It was midnight when I got to bed and gone half past nine when I got up. I was certainly tireder than usual when I got to bed. Rhiannon and Kath slept late too. Clare woke up at seven and couldn't get back to sleep so she cooked a double batch of pancakes to feed us all. After a long lazy breakfast, I got to work making the Morning Prayer video slideshow, and uploaded it to YouTube. We had a snack lunch, the drove to the Millennium Centre for an afternoon performance of Mozart's 'Cosi fan Tutti'. It was a delightful surprise even though the Guardian review a few days ago was somewhat a spoiler.

The essential storyline has an older man and woman attempting to teach two younger couples a life lesson about love and relationships, and how fickle all people are capable of being, hence the title - in effect it means - everyone's like that. Usually it's presented in eighteenth century costumes of the elite. In this new version, it's set in a secondary school's classroom and canteen, with everyone apart from the teachers and the cook/housekeeper in school uniform that included short trousers and short skirts. 

The youngsters are meant to be mid-teenagers. It's a challenging re-think. Not everyone may like it, but it does make clear, as intended that the older generation are playing tricks on the younger generation, manipulating their emotions and ideals into deception and betrayal to teach them a lesson. It was played for its comedic content, and in my opinion raised more laughs that might have done if played as a trad costume drama. Wales' own Rebecca Evans playing Despina was outstanding, hilariously funny in her several guises.

The sextet of singers playing students and staff all sang superbly and moved playfully around the stage with chorus members during minor changes to the single stage set to signal scene changes by using big placards with images on that called for a certain amount of decoding. It worked, just about. I believe there may have been some changes to the English translation of Da Ponte's libretto as it highlighted the humour expressed on stage. It was a bold exercise in presenting a much loved opera classic, a challenge risen to imaginatively, refreshingly. We left for home just after the sun had set, much cheered.

After supper I went for an hour's walk in the dark to complete my daily quota, then spent the remainder of the evening writing until Kath and Rhiannon returned from dining out with old friend Emma. It was gone midnight by the time we went to bed. 

A new ministry begins on Dydd Gwyl Dewi

I was pleased to hear Rhiannon leaving the house after six this morning. Filming ends this afternoon, so hopefully she can rest and enjoy the weekend. Kath is coming down to stay as well. I spent the morning editing and writing. A colder cloudy day with sunny breaks, and a surprise hail storm mid morning. There may be snow in some places, but unlikely here in Cardiff. It's been much milder this winter with fewer frosty nights and much more rain. I spent the morning recording and editing material for a week next Thursday's Morning Prayer.

After a salmon soul lunch, I took the 61 bus to Fairwater to attend the World Day of Prayer service at St Peter's. This year's service was devised by a group of Palestinian Christian women, reason enough to go. It contained moving stories summarising the plight of Palestinians through the eyes of three generations of women. We also sang a couple of Palestinian choruses, with English texts and the Arabic equivalent rendered phonetically. I don't think I was very successful with the Arabic, but it was worth trying. It was a gathering of two dozen women of a certain age, and just two men. If I had realised the service was at St Peter's before I sent out Sway, last week or this, I could have included a poster for it, but I only found out late last night after the distribution was done. It's an ecumenical event held annually, but sadly such ecumenical activities are few and far between.

I just missed a bus to return home. There's half an hour between 61 buses now mid afternoon, extra buses are laid on exclusively for school children instead. I walked for half an hour until it began to drizzle, then I sheltered beneath a hedge next to a bus stop, and only had to wait a couple of minutes for the next bus to appear. Kath arrived at half past five to stay a couple of nights and return to Kenilworth on country roads to let Rhiannon have the experience of distance driving. She was her driving test in a few weeks time, and values all the practice she can get. After a snack supper, I walked to Cowbridge Road East and caught an 18 bus to take me up to St David's Parish Church for the Licensing of Fr Andrew Sully as West Cardiff Ministry Area Leader in the setting of a Eucharist.

About eighty people attended, and a quarter of them were clergy - half of them robed in the choir and half scattered throughout the congregation. The formalities of a licensing ceremony in a Eucharist have been simplified even more than they were the last time I attended one. I'm not sure if I approve of this or not, as stripping out the somewhat antiquated traditional features may have made it more informal and relaxed but made the occasion feel less momentous and memorable.

It was however, a truly bilingual event honouring St David. We sang 'Mae hen Wlad fy Nhadau' at the end. No choir needed, the singing in spontaneous harmony, was loud confident and enthusiastic throughout. I wish it was that good in the churches I serve every Sunday. There was a sumptuous spread after the service, and many cheerful conversations and greetings exchanged. It's a pity more couldn't have attended. Carol A long standing member of 'The Res' and old friend gave me a lift as far as Victoria Park, so I could walk the rest of the way home and complete my daily step quota. It was good to see Rhiannon had arrived from her film extra job a little earlier than me. We sat in the kitchen and chatted, until tiredness caught up with us one by one, and drew us up to bed.

In the news today, thirty thousand are now reported to have been killed in Gaza since October. It's claimed ten thousand of them are Hamas fighters. It's also claimed the majority of casualties are women and children. At this stage it's not possible to distinguish fact from propaganda. Will we ever know the truth? This grim statistic reminded me of what I was told by a former Red Cross prison visitor before going to Syria. Under the dictatorship of Hafez al Assad, in 1982, an insurrection of Muslim brotherhood members in Hama took thirty thousand lives in a month. If it was reported in Western media at the time it didn't arouse the same kind of political outrage which the war on Gazans has aroused. But then it was a matter of one powerful group of Muslims fighting against another.

Ancient viral music

I heard the front door bang shut at five past five, as Rhiannon left in an Uber taxi for the railway station, to get a train to Bridgend by six o'clock, then a forty minute walk to the film set to start he days work, being dressed and made up as a 1920s party goer for scenes to be shot today. I admire her enthusiasm, stamina and willingness to work at such a demanding job. Amazingly, she relishes the experience, and as ever is learning about movie making on the job. I slipped back into sleep, and woke up in time to post today's link on WhatsApp to my Morning Prayer video, then dozed off again.

After breakfast I went to St John's to celebrate the Eucharist and reflect with the congregation of six on the past six months without pastoral leadership, a time which I believe has demonstrated the resilience of the congregational life we still have, despite losing older members and general decline in numbers.

A walk in the park after lunch. Another day of clouds and occasional short showers. By Blackweir bridge are a couple of park benches. One of them is occupied by a large crow as often as it is by a human being. This afternoon I took a picture that made me smile:

I did the email distribution of Sway later than usual, when I returned from walking,  as I was waiting for confirmation about advertising for a Sway editor to replace me after Easter.  It didn't come, so I posted it anyway. I live in hope of there being a surprise volunteer coming forward!

This evening Colin asked if I would open St Catherine's church  for a Fountain Singers rehearsal just after seven, which I agreed to do and booked it in my phone as usual. I proposed to set up, welcome people and then pop over to Chapter for the first of four Christian Aid discussions about tackling poverty in Britain as well as the rest of the world, and then return to close the church at nine thirty. When sending out Sway I checked the start time, and it was at seven. My phone notification sounded, but I didn't look at it. I headed straight to Chapter instead and was last to arrive at the meeting. When I went to put my phone on silent for the duration of the meeting, I saw the pop up notification and realised I'd gone to the wrong place first! I had to make an excuse and leave, disrupting proceedings and making a fool of myself. I had to go home to get my church keys to open up St Catherine's. It started to rain, but at least I was able to get an umbrella for the walk to church, where I arrived in good time to be evening caretaker.

It was good to hear the choir practicing some unfamiliar early music pieces, including a twelfth century hymn to the Virgin with drone bass accompaniment. It so reminded me of something I heard last week on YouTube, sung by Cardiff's Russian Orthodox Exarchate church choir. A simple flowing melody with little adornment, similar to one's I recall hearing Greek Orthodox cantors singing in times past, except that their version is embellished with complex melismata that sound strangely dissonant to Western ears. Purely melodic versions of what we call Byzantine or Latin plainchant are, I believe very ancient and may have been come from Jewish synagogue cantors. Beautiful music inspires and uplifts, sharing it is inevitable.

I stayed throughout the rehearsal, not daring to go back to Chapter and disrupt proceedings a second time, and got home at half past nine. It was nearly half past ten by the time Rhiannon returned, having done more than the twelve hour day on set he gets paid for. Clare had a meal ready for her, and she was in bed an hour earlier this evening. Thankfully she has a later start time tomorrow morning.

Uncertainties

Clouds and slight drizzle again today. I couple of roofers turned up at eight this morning to do a small job of work extending the slate cover of the annexe at the back of the house, to prevent water seeping through the walls and replacing a few broken ones as well. This will cure a damp problem at the far corner of the building that has persisted since it was re-roofed fifteen years ago. It costs extra however, but never mind.

There were ten of us at the St Catherine's Eucharist, celebrated by Archbishop Rowan this morning. After coffee and a chat I collected this week's veggie bag and headed home. We had sausages and veg for lunch. Then after a snooze, Clare went out to fetch the grocery order from Beanfreaks while I started work on a Sunday sermon. When she returned, I went for groceries at the Coop. The sun was setting by the time I returned, so I had to finish the rest of my day's exercise as it was getting dark. Fortunately no rain.

I had an anxious message from Basma saying her lawyer was now less confident about her asylum request being granted at the hearing on March 4th. It's not clear whether he's mentioned her desire for baptism, to the tribunal or not. It's none of their business. She insisted she wouldn't be baptized until she had leave to stay in a place where it was safe to proceed. This is not the reason for her petition. If the tribunal has been briefed about this, it could constitute a breach of client confidentiality, and prejudice a fair judgement. It could however, simply be a case of crossed wires, due to translation/interpretation error. We'll see. 

The fact there have been serious criminal cases involving baptized converts from Islam using this as case for obtaining asylum, means churches have come in for criticism from those who know little about cross cultural pastoral ministry. Regardless of background, people with ulterior motives can lie about their intentions. Those exiled from their homeland and culture can come off the rails, and fail to understand that a new faith means consistency in a new way of life with a new sense of values, regardless of how sound or inadequate the baptism preparation and follow up they receive.

As a result of this exchange of messages, I missed the Diocese in Europe's on-line farewell celebration to Suffragan Bishop David Hamid, retiring after twenty two years in this role. No news yet about the appointment of a successor. Whoever this is, he'll be a hard act to follow.

Fr Colin called this evening to ask if I could replace him at the St John's Eucharist tomorrow morning, as he knows I go regularly, since was feeling unwell. It's the last day of the ministerial vacancy, with Andrew being licensed tomorrow evening. Not only happy to help, but also to have an opportunity to give thanks for all that has continued to happen during the past six months, and put the future into God's hands.

I seem to have spent the evening exchanging emails, and diary checking with Clare so she can book opera tickets for the '24-25 WNO season. It seems odd to me to be thinking so far ahead in such uncertain times. I think this is a legacy from the pandemic, when everyone who wasn't managing the health crisis could do little else apart from put their lives on hold until they were confident of survival. The older I get the more uncertainty stalks me. None of us really know how much time we have left here on earth, so planning too far seems a bit absurd. 

Rhiannon rang at ten from Bridgend, as she was on foot, heading for a train back to Cardiff. She has to be back there on call for six o'clock in the morning. She hadn't eaten since lunchtime. It's crazy. So I cooked her eggs, chips and green peas washed down with chamomile tea for a belated supper, and she went to bed at eleven forty. Me too.

Pictures of Jamaica

Mild and cloudy, but no rain today, apart from a few bouts of fine drizzle. Clare's study group came after breakfast, so I occupied myself in the front room, writing a couple of talks for Basma, and recording them later after they'd left. 

Rhiannon arrived to stay just after we'd eaten a snack lunch. She has a couple more days film extra work in Bridgend this week. I went out for a walk, and went up to the Cathedral where I met Canon Jan, and we chatted for a while. I returned in good time for us to take Rhiannon out for a birthday meal at Stefano's. She was twenty five days ago. 

Amazing how the years have passed since she was born. We've seen her go from infant to young woman at closer quarters than we have done with Jasmine living in Arizona. Sad that the two of them have spent so little time together as cousins. Maybe they'll discover each other when they both are adults and free to go wherever they wish. Who knows. So many things in life turn out in ways you can't predict.

After returning from Stefano's we relaxed and chatted. I started reminiscing about my trip to Jamaica forty two years ago, and ended up showing Rhiannon the 313 surviving photos I digitized from the slides I took when I was there. A trip down memory lane for me, and an introduction to what was then a poor Third World Caribbean country which has developed so much since then, but I suspect that hasn't made that much difference to the gap between rich and poor both then and now, even if overall standards of living have improved down the generations.

Account upgrade, maybe

A lovely bright sunny winter day, the kind that's been in short supply this year. Housework after breakfast, and then the realisation that my usual Monday mail-out of next week's readings weren't needed, as there's a United Parish Eucharist at St Catherine's next Sunday, so the organisation will be taken care of by Sue. What will happen about routine service preparation and Sway when Fr Andrew arrives is not yet known. 

Anyway, it was good to have time to devote to tidying up my study. First, hoovering up a film of plaster dust deposited by the work on the roof, and then filing away months of bank statements and then clearing the pile of redundant charity mail shots, I didn't get around disposing of since last autumn. There's a lot more that needs getting rid of. Historic files from previous jobs, books I'm never going to read again. A lifetime of stuff nobody else is going to be interested in.

Clare cooked a veggie lentil dish with rice for lunch while I was pottering about upstairs. After we'd eaten, I got around to upgrading our Santander current account on-line. A new offer is advantageous for paying abroad with a debit card, and for withdrawing Euros from a Santander AGM. The earned interest rate is higher, but I doubt if it saves much really. It also means not getting any more paper bank statements, which is a pity as I've been holding out against losing them for years, as it's easier to identify transactions when you you need to on paper, than it is on-line, when  search and identify isn't as good as paper and pencil.

Then, a bracingly chilly walk in the park, some more work on a recruitment poster for the next Sway editor, should this be needed, and a batch of bread dough started. After supper, I wrote and recorded another talk for Basma, then made a video slideshow for next week's Morning Prayer and uploaded it to YouTube. I quite forgot about the bread dough until I'd finished work. It had risen very well and was easy to knock it back and put into tins to bake, just before it was time to turn in for the night.

Familiar voice on air

This Morning's Sunday Worship on Radio 4 was broadcast from the Wales Millennium Centre, in honour of St David's day, later this week, called 'Love of Nation'. It was led by a contemporary colleague of mine, the veteran BBC religious programme presenter Baptist Minister Roy Jenkins with the BBC National Chorus of Wales. One of the contributors Roy interviewed was singer Vanessa Hall, long standing member of St John's City Parish Church and old friend of ours. That was a surprise and delight to start the day.

The respite from horrible weather only lasted a day. It was dry when I drove to St German's to celebrate the Eucharist, but by the time we finished it was raining again. We were nearly forty with the children, and I noticed several new faces in the congregation.  I had a good chat with Basma afterwards, going over the baptismal words in Arabic which I'll learn to use for her big day. We've covered most of the ground we needed to in preparation. Not knowing when she'll get her residence permit is a frustration for planning. We'd love this to happen at Easter, the most appropriate time of year. If the delay is longer, I'll be away for two months. Basma insists I should be the one to baptize her, although it's not essential that I do. I'll be happy if I can complete her preparation. It's for Fr Stewart and Fr Jarel to decide when the time comes. 

I drove home in pouring rain. It was half past one when I arrived, late for lunch. The rain continued until eight in the evening, so I snoozed in the chair for an hour, then prepared next week's liturgical texts. As the rain slackened, Clare ventured out for a walk, while I took advantage of a quiet house to record and edit next week's Morning Prayer. Once the rain reduced to a trickle, I went out, walked for three quarters of an hour, returning in time for the Archers and supper. The rain finally stopped so I went out again and walked to reach my daily quota. There's no doubt this much exercise does me good. A clear head and relaxed sleep are well worth the effort.

Speculation is mounting over a cease fire deal in Israel's war on Gaza, although Netanyahu's government is still unready to agree, despite mounting pressure at home and abroad to do so. The intransigence of the Israeli government is having repercussions all over the world against Jewish people being scapegoated for what a secular extreme right regime has done to Palestinians, though they can play no part in its decisions and policies and have little or no ability to influence them. Blaming one group of people for the actions of another is unjust, ignorant, irrational. It's a symptom of contagious malice, amplified and spread by social media, so hard to contain or counter when dominated by people of ill will. An instrument of conviviality easily flips over into a devouring monster. When will the world tire of such impoverished communication?

Very low tide

A cold day with sunshine as well as clouds. In my study after our Saturday pancake breakfast, a book I bought in Geneva over twenty years ago caught my eye on a bookshelf. It's about biblical meditation and its written by Daniel Bourguet, a French protestant pastor, who became a hermit after a career as a biblical scholar. I'm not sure if I got around to reading it before but enjoyed reading the first sixteen pages. It's been a while since I last read anything in French. A refreshing change.

We decided to go out and enjoy the better weather, driving to Penarth for a snack lunch in Cioni's Italian family restaurant and a walk along the clifftop to Lavernock Point and back. As the full moon had  already sunk beneath the western horizon, the tide was exceptionally low, revealing reefs of sand and stones in the middle of the Estuary, and the visible shore line below us, more uneven than usual, sculpted by tidal currents. The coastal path was a stream of running water in several stretches, if not puddles and slicks of mud. It'll take days for water to drain from the adjacent fields and fall from the cliff edge to the beach forty metres below.  It'll take much longer if heavy rain returns and persists.

After our walk we called to see Fran as she was at home, and saw the collection of icons she has painted, now displayed in her studio. When you see them together it's possible to see how an icon with the same subject can be made with small variations illustrating different insights into its significance which arose during the preparation for painting. She's about to start on a new icon of the Trinity and we discussed the challenge this presents, in the light of Rublev's archetypal fifteenth century masterpiece. Is there another approach to the Mystery of the Trinity which doesn't make use of 'The hospitality of Abraham' story in Genesis? Or the Gospel story of Christ's baptism?

We drove home with the sun setting at quarter to six. It's wonderful to have reclaimed nearly two hours of daylight since the end of last November. Before leaving, we left a line of washing to dry outdoors, but we didn't anticipate returning so late. By the time we got back, the sun had set and heavy dew descended, leaving the washing no better than when it came out of the spin drier. 

After supper, I went for a walk in the dark for half an hour to complete my daily quota. Moonlight shone through the clouds, but the moon itself wasn't visible. Such a disappointment. I watched an episode of 'Bones' on my Chromebook while Clare watched an old episode of 'The Repair Shop' on telly. Then it was time for bed. As I entered the bedroom before switching on the light, the room was flooded with moonlight  The sky was clearing of cloud and the full moon shone brightly down  from above the house.

Monty Don in Valencia

I woke up early switched the radio and listened to 'Thought for the Day'. After this I went back to sleep for another hour. After breakfast, work on my Sunday sermon, then a trip to the GP surgery for another blood pressure test. It's coming down satisfactorily, a month after the gall bladder op. Then I returned home and continued working on the sermon until it was time to cook a pasta dish for lunch. 

After lunch I worked on a reflection for the week after next, before walking in the the park for an hour and a half. Service and reflection are now ready to record when I next have free time. After supper we watched a programme about gardens in Spain by Monty Don, who traveled around central Spain visiting gardens both traditional and contemporary, considering how architects and gardeners are responding to climate change making conditions more extreme. 

Among the places he visits are Madrid, Toledo, Avila and Valencia, the only place I have visited. The aerial views of the parque del Turia running the length of the old river bed through the city were amazing. There were a few brief views of the Cuitat de les Artes i les Ciencias, but I was surprised to hear Calatrava's clamshell shaped L'Àgora building called the opera house when the building housing Valencia's opera is a kilometre up the river bed and shaped like a giant fish. L'Àgora is a massive event space, used for concerts, exhibitions and indoor sports. When my sister June and I visited the city in 2009, construction of L'Àgora was almost complete, the one public building in this massive modern complex not yet finished. 

It's great modern architecture, but the imagination of citizens demanding the river bed become a park not a motorway, produced a green innovation impacting the entire life of the city which cities throughout have imitated in different ways since. This was well before climate change became an urgent issue. Valencia is committed to becoming a the world's first carbon neutral city by 2025. How this is to be achieved, I shall be most interested to discover.

Waterlogged

I woke up at half past seven and posted today's Morning Prayer video link to WhatsApp. After breakfast I made a photo album with pictures I've taken of the six Ministry Area churches and sent it to webmaster Gareth to use, as he's now got the Ministry Area website running. It's a work in progress, but which I've helped get started and am now content to let others develop as they see fit. 

Then I went to St John's to celebrate the Eucharist with five others, before driving to Danescourt to give Communion to Sandra, returning in time for a delicious lunch of pan fried mackerel with rice and veg. Although I slept quite well last night, I slept in the chair for nearly an hour after we'd eaten. I must have needed more. 

After waking up refreshed, I walked to Thompson's Park. Weeks of rain has left the open ground saturated. In several places the footpath around the top of the hillock is flooded with water draining off the grass. In the lowest area of the park, where there's a big boundary wall enclosing a street, there's a pool of water as big as I've seen in the winter rainy season, if not bigger. Once the rainfall reduces to a spring or summer level, it will take several months for this area to dry out, as there's a bed of clay beneath the trees there. 

The sun was shining but at 5C the cold wind chilled me so I had to return home for a warmer top coat, gloves and scarf. I continued walking in Thompson's Park for another three quarters of an hour to reach my daily target, the spent the rest of the day binge watching the second action packed series of 'Vigil' with a break for supper. A complex story of spies, drone warfare and the dark side of the British arms industry, and a warmongering conspiracy among top military officers in a fictional Middle Eastern country, actually filmed in Morocco, and Scotland. Hard to follow on times, as it switched between locations, but worth the effort for the questions it posed about supporting dodgy regimes, on the grounds that, if we don't our enemies will.

Industrial mission remembered

As I was getting up this drizzly morning I had a message from Rufus to arrange a coffee and a chat. I went to the Eucharist at St Catherine's and then we met. It's great to see him enjoying his new job as Wales Chaplain for the Mission to Seafarers. He talked about the fast pace of change in the maritime and linked industries, and how the Mission is having to respond to this. As well as his pastoral role as a pastoral ship visitor, his work embraces on-shore personnel, in the way industrial missioners did in the early days of my ministry. 

It's been 25-30 years since specialist industrial chaplains disappeared from church ministry teams, with the demise of heavy industry, coal and steel especially. Port Talbot steelworks, threatened with closure in the near future had its own industrial chaplain until five years ago. My friend and former colleague Geoff Johnston was industrial chaplain to a steel works in the Black Country which closed while he was in post. Much of his remaining time in post before he returned to a parish was spent working with people made redundant by the closure. 

After Rufus and I parted company, I had to go home, collect the veggie bag and retrieve this week's supply from Chapter before lunch, which was thankfully delayed as Clare had made a late start, having spent the morning investigating travel insurance. After we'd eaten, I did the Co-op grocery shopping, and then went for a walk in the park.

With nothing better to do, I spent the remainder of the afternoon and evening watching several episodes of 'Vigil', which is pretty good dramatic fare laced with hi-tech' investigations. Interesting portrayal of the changing ways in which espionage and warfare are waged in the age of the mobile phone, and the impact  on warriors on the front line of living constantly with the need to be vigilant on duty or off. 'Be sober be vigilant because your adversary the devil walks about like a roaring lion, whom resist steadfast in faith', as scripture says. Except that these a lot less faith around these days, and you can never be sure you really know who your enemies might be.