Showing posts with label Sunday. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Sunday. Show all posts

Sunday 18 February 2024

Sunday Prayer

It was the usual half asleep start this morning.  Breakfast, coffee, weaker than usual as Sainsburys do not appear to be stocking the Costa Rica stuff these days, and get ready for the off.  Naturally it was teeming rain.  I specifically prayed for dry weather when I went out but it had not arrived when I left.  In fact, as I walked I realised the rain was stopping, and had almost cleared by the time I hobbled into the church.
Lovely!
As expected the girls soon surrounded me, I was forced to hug Jenny, Caroline, Julie, Sylvia and almost the vicar with his hands held out!  I wish he would not wear those robes!  Anyway, the service went on in the usual formally informal fashion, and at the 'intercessions,' I struggled to find my glasses so I could read the full page I had prepared lovingly, and limped up to the microphone.  I spoke, the crowd reacted, some expected a sombre prayer full of tact and hushed adoration, er, I am somewhat more relaxed.  I prayed re the kids, mentioning the miserable old people who complain about noise, and us er, 'Young 'Uns' who delight to see the kids here.  Some cycnical reaction here, I know not why.
Afterwards, communion over, tea and coffee being spilt as much as the powdered covered cakes someone foolishly made for the kids which were being splattered across the floor, three people reacted well to the prayer.  This was good, not all would react, and sadly I did not get a chance to speak to all.  The vicar did speak to me, making no mention of what I said talking instead of his week ahead at some conference re church leadership.  When we talked I realised that he is a bit lonely.  Here he is as leader, of two churches, but he has no real deep friendships here.  This type of church does not have people who share friendships, they are all a little apart.  Partly this is due to family needs, work and the distance apart, also many have been here for years and know one another well, but something is missing here.  I found this strange at first, possibly little town syndrome.  I can call most here friends in one respect each week, but something is missing.  I think the vicar finds this also, and his job is a lonely one.
Anyway, having spoken to the important people, and all my women, I made for home in what was now sunshine.  I stopped one young woman and her 7 year old boy who was spashing in puddles as they walked. 
"Has he done this all the way?" I asked.
"Yes, every puddle!" she said laughing.
I told him he would enjoy it further down the road as the pavement was flooded in places and off they went, he eager, she wondering how to keep him clean and considering whether she ought to have had a girl instead.
At home I ate, fussed about nothing, ate, slept, and ached after walking so far.  A good Sunday, considering I got on well with most, did not get stoned as I expected, and found several still oppose the Bishops Stonewall purposes.
Interesting that one newcomer was in this morning.  I saw her here a few weeks ago, she and a friend came from London, and I susected them as lesbians, they had the marks.  I might be wrong and was unable to speak to her today, I wonder what she thought?  
Anyway, I thank those that prayed for me, and look forward to the next time in a couple of months...
 

Monday 30 October 2023

Rebel Church This Week

We rebelled yesterday.  The united service with our fellow church was on.  We did not go!  
The other church is High Church, all liturgy and candles.  Our church is Low, very Low, but not Low enough for me.  
An idea was formed that we would meet at our place, in spite of the united meeting.  So we did.
Several mentioned this idea, and five of us arrived to see it out.
One or two would have been there had they not been involved elsewhere.  So we few, we happy few, sat and yacked for a while.  It was not great, we had no organiser, and next time, in six months time, we may do the same again.  However, we will be better organised.
This rebelling is tiring.  It involves thinking, and this tires me these days.  However, the wee meet was good for me and left me happy for most of the day.  I even survived two football matches happily, in spite of referees.
Nothing else happened...

Sunday 24 September 2023

Sunday Mask.


The 'wear a mask' and the 'anti-maskers' are out again.  The increase in Covid is being seen across the globe.   However, if you catch it here there is no way to report this, unless you waste the doctors time by informing him, and lets face it, he does not wish to know.   Boris pretended the virus had gone away and ignored the deaths following, just to look good in the press.  Now, while the latest version, and there appear to be many versions rises we cannot report this, so the nation has no idea how many are suffering Covid, rather than colds or flu.  If it turns out to be another pandemic will the UK be ready?  
No, of course not.
For a start Sunak is to busy lining his pockets and watching the infighting between ex-PMs to care.  He also cares little re the virus, or indeed anything else, if there is no money to be made out of this.  He may however, get a backhander from some health organisation for equipment they sell him.
Anyway, I decided I was too tired for going out today.  I noticed on Friday just how tired I was coming back from Sainsburys, I juts wanted to yell at everybody for no reason.  Today is not much better.  The virus may have passed but the legacy hangs on.  Sleep and eat is the cure.
Oh, and cheap Brandy...
And I winder if the long term effects of Covid are responsible for the removal of dress sense from men, and men of a certain age at that?  The number of men in shorts, T-shirts and baseball caps, making them suitable for extras in a Donald Trump rally, wandering about the streets imagining they are 'hip,' or 'trendy.'  I keep seeing them pass by.  Why?  What is it about the weather that leaves men senseless?  Now, young men badly dressed we can understand, but few dress like this, only men of a 'certain age,' possibly because the mind is rotting, possibly because the wife has departed, possibly because they are just dumb?  I know not why, but it is a bad sign.  I am now looking forward to dropping temperatures and warm coats, just to see if these men can grow up.


Tuesday 22 August 2023

A Pigeon Post

The trouble with not feeling to good is that things do not get done.  This week I am feeling OK, so I have piles of washing, and piles of ironing to do.  The last shirt has been used, those lying there since last summer muct now be ironed!  This could wear me out again!
Sunday I felt terrific.  I ate well, drank sweet coffee and wandered down to the Kirk quite well, for me.  I felt good, confident and ready.  I had to be, I was doing the intercessions.  That is, at one point I rose above the mob and prayed (from my well prepared sheet).  This went down well with the vicar and wife, mostly because I prayed for them!  Mentioning her as a grannie, 'and so young' went down well with her.  Nobody among the congregation mentioned anything other than they.  
But as I came home I realised how much the churches prayers had lifted me and prepared me for my short slot.  The people's prayers make such a difference.  
I felt it on Sunday. 
I ought to have prayed for a woman to come and do my ironing!  Not that this would work with that lot!

Sunday 13 August 2023

Boring Sunday


It's one of those weeks.  Nothing is happening, nothing excites.  
I sit here, staring out the window, seeking inspiration.  All that comes to me is a desire to go to sleep.
The world is silent, even for a Sunday evening.  What the weatherman calls a 'breeze' is shaking the trees opposite, while clouds, often grey, scud across the sky, occasional, blue peeking out.  Dogs are not barking, children are not shouting, and I suppose this is caused by feeding time at the individuals home zoo.
Football is boring.  Church was boring, walking there tiring.  Food unappetising.
It's all joy and happiness this week!

I think it's time for sleep...

Sunday 9 July 2023

Slovenly Sabbath


This was the threat today, along with thunder and lightning and heavy rain.
Feeling a bit peaky over the past couple of days I was intending to remain indoors anyway, so I spent some time watching the weather on 'Microsoft Edge' bringing the rain across at the time I normally leave on a Sunday morn.
They said it would arrive at 10 minutes to 10, but it failed to come.
They said it would be 'light rain,' and it did arrive at 10 minutes past 10, and failed to drop any rain.
'Moderate rain,' was to follow shortly after, the clouds darkened, but no rain fell.
Innit just marvellous!
On any other Sunday I would have proceeded out, as the weather looked OK, and got drenched half way down the road.  Today nothing.  I will trust the BBC from now on.


So, instead of trekking out I remained indoors intent of reading one of these.
I have one I bought back in the 80s when the NIV first arrived.   It is showing signs of wear, not always because of constant reading I should emphasise, and requires to be put aside on the 'retired book shelf.'  It was as I glanced at the scribbles inside the front pages I found a little thing from the late 70s.  I was in the hospital, and short of cash.  One Sunday evening I found myself full of 'faith,' that the money I needed for the week would arrive.  At that time I required £1 a day.  Being paid on Thursdays meant I needed £3 for the week.  I knew this would arrive.
Monday morning I arrived at work as my usual happy self, "Here's old misery," said John the cook as I entered.  I ignored him, and the collection off lesser staff gathered around the front door at 7:30 in the morning.  
I remained full of faith, and on my clock card, remember them?  I found a cheque for £3.
This was a payment owned me by the NHS which had not been paid via my wages as it ought to be.
God moves in a mysterious way his wonders to perform.
So many times, when down on my 'uppers' the Good Lord has provided in interesting ways.
He never leaves us.
(Mind you, he does not make us rich either!)


An answer to my query has arrived.
One of my favourite, beautiful, and highly talented nieces had sent this beer to me.
She has also sent a card which has, so far, not appeared.  This may be because of the incompetence of the Royal Mail management, or some 'dick' pinching it thing money was included.  How wrong he would be.  It may appear one day, as may others that have not arrived.  



I have spent some time in these days looking in to the 'Tour.'
Not that I am really all that interested in who wins these days but I do like watching the background scenery.  
Today and yesterday there was an abundance of small, tight knit villages.  Usually a church and a castle or some once proud, but now broken down building from the days of long ago is glanced as we pass.  These villages today were astonishing.  Crammed together cheek by jowl, as they say, it indicated something of the history of the region, though all I could think was how everyone must have known everything about everyone!  No secrets here.  
I am also impressed at men cycling 100 miles and climbing hills at 15 mph, sometimes faster.  Now, for myself I often had to climb off and push the bike, and that was going downhill!  How do these men do this?  Over 4 hours of cycling today, finishing up a steep, and very high hill, with a wonderful view, but a killer for the man who led so long and got beat at the last.
I think I will make sure I still have my Bus Pass.

Sunday 16 April 2023

Sunday Sloth


A short service today, followed by an AGM.  Add in the end of the holiday weeks, a touch of sickness and pre-arranged dates, few people were around.  However, I bravely staggered along the road, noticing how it was almost like Spring this morning.  I noticed also the marks on the pavement indicating work was to begin on the area surrounding the double mini-roundabouts.  This will lead to long tailbacks, especially as work begins when all the industrial estates return.  
Spring like indeed but walking there and back was wothout a spring.  Knackered at home, quick and easy lunch, fortified by this cheap plonk.  Can French wine be called 'plonk?'  Isn't it supposed to be the best?  Not to me it isn't, and too be fair anything would have done this lunchtime.
So, at home I wasted time on mediocre football, and searching for news.  None was found.  With everyone on holiday or hiding from the press the media only features yesterday's stories refurbished, and celebs spouting.  Nothing worth knowing.  
Tomorrow is another day of fun, frolics, laughter, and laundry.
Ain't life great...? 
 

Sunday 19 February 2023

Sunday Daffs

A combination of things saw me remain indoors today.  However, just after 10, when the shop opened, I wandered across the park to buy bread.  The sun shone, the sky was blue, an aircraft flew 32,000 feet above us making his way toward the Americas, and all appeared well with the world.  
Of course, if we only look at what is in front of our nose we can ignore the earthquakes in Turkey and Syria, the war in Syria or Ukraine, and conflicts in various parts of Africa.  We can also ignore the suffering closer to home as we either do not see or know about it, or it is kept secret from us, not everyone wishes to share their problems with the world.  
So I wandered across the path enjoying being outside in such weather, and also enjoying the sight of greenery in the sunshine.  Just walking through a small area of parkland can enliven the spirit, especially if much time has been spent indoors.  The green has an affect on our spirits, some like to call this 'spiritual,' it is not, but it does hearten the mind.  Others, with or without dogs, were also being heartened though this did not always show.  Quite quiet being early, the shop opened, a few were in desparately filling the trolley, I grabbed my few bits and hobbled gladly back home.   

 
So, having checked that the Daffodills outside the Council offices are well ahead of the other council ones, watched two miserable football matches, and listened to three tracks from AC/DC to bring some excitement into my day, I now end it with tired timewasting on the internet.  
More excitement tomorrow awaits...
 

Sunday 23 October 2022

Thunder and Lightning

Met Office

Dark skies, flashes of lightning, rumbles of thunder.  The sound of heavy rain lashing the Highways and byways around.  A continuous dripping hurries along at the back window, the gutters overflowing with the deluge.  The swishing sound as the rain lashes the street.  Cars, not always driving carefully, pass by splashing the water around.  The gutters cannot cope and rain sills across the road every so often lit up by the flashes, flashes which at least avoid the need to put a light on.  
The thunder moves further away, the rain eases, and all this reminds me of the day I was born.  Thunder, lightning, heaving rain storms, windows shaking and all this on an Edinburgh July.  The family interpreted this as a bad sign.  There are those who agree with them.
As the storm moves north east I hear a dog barking, a dog, that would hide under the bed trembling when fireworks explode is happy to want outside when thunder and lightning rage!
Similar rain, without much thunder, kept me in this morning.  The idea of walking in the drizzle did not appeal, especially as I knew what would follow.  Follow it did, heavy persistent rain, annoying those walking dogs that insisted in walking, and made me glad I remained indoors listening to the constant heavy dripping at the back window.  One day someone will fix those gutters.
This is not quite what Australia has been facing, it is not like the Indian monsoon, it is however, very like Autumn weather here.  Rain clouds coming up from the south west, carrying much of the Atlantic with them, brings a warmer atmosphere and a wetter rain.  Much better than the north west cold rain, often the remains of US hurricanes, of glorious memory.  That is, glorious because I do not see it as often as I once did.


Monday 17 October 2022

A Sunday in the Life

 
Sunday saw me shuffling down to the Kirk.  
I have not been for a few weeks and it was delight to see how the young women crowded around me.  I did not realise just how much they missed my weekly cash offering!  My tired mind did not enjoy much however, the service was a long one, too long for tired little me.  
Not only was it the church's 53rd anniversary, but it was also the 'Harvest Festival.'  This adds to the time as offerings were made, offerings this time being items wanted by the local 'Food Bank,' which the church supports and is itself used as an 'Food Bank' opening.  So, plastic bags of required substances abounded at the front, unlike in days of long ago when a sheaf of wheat or two would lie alongside local apples, fruits and vegetables.  Today, a more practical, and sadly required, offering is demanded.  We have a Conservative MP, who is also the Foreign Minister (at the moment, but things change quickly under this government), the town council is almost totally Conservative, and the County council also dominated by the Conservative Party.  However, the 'Food Bank' in this town has two openings within the town, and one on the rather 'better to do' area just outside.  There is also another in nearby, and better off, Halstead, and one in not so well of London overspill Witham!  Conservative areas these, and the MP has not, as yet, visited any of them.  All of these are based in church halls, I wonder why?  Does no-one else have the care, or would it cost too much?  Maybe the next 'Harvest Festival' might be different, maybe of course, it could be much worse.  


On top of this we had a child baptised.  Now I am not one for Christenings or child baptisms, however, the CoE is, and the vicar goes along with this so, when a local woman requests baptism he accedes to her demand, and attempts to use this as an 'outreach' to those who attend church only for 'Birth, death and marriages.'  And as I entered, shrugging off the women, I noticed the first three rows taken up with men in suits, and women dressed for an occasion. "Strangers," thought I.  Easy to identify such as the rest of the church takes a 'Come as you are,' approach, and rightly so, this means visitors all dressed up stand out.  Funny how they all think going to church requires 'dressing up,' I wonder how those thoughts get into their minds?  It does however, show the lack of understanding regarding churches today.
I say Christenings and child baptism have no place in scripture.  Such are never found there, what we do find however, is, for instance, in Mark's 'Good News,' where the disciples are clearing up after Jesus has finished for the day, and the women then approach for Jesus to 'bless' their children.  Obviously, no major Rabbi of the time wishes to waste time on the women or their children, so the disciples lovingly tell them to "Clear off."  At this Jesus, says Mark, is 'Indignant.'  The Greek word he uses is a very strong word indeed, indicating how God in human form, walking the earth, saw the women and children.  
However, baptism, such as from John at the Jordan, and occasionally elsewhere, does not mention children, only 'people.'  It is possible they were involved, but no mention of them is made.  The 'Christening service' is unknown.  
Non-denominational churches, based on scripture rather than 'liturgy,' do not have 'Christenings,' but what I might call 'presentations.'  That is, new born children are 'presented to God,' and the church, along with thanks to God, promises to care for them.  Can I just say at this point, I am no longer available for babysitting.  
They are welcomed into the church but no demand on the child is made re belief. 
The reason child baptism is accepted is based on Pauls time in Philippi. 
When Paul was in Philippi spreading the Good News, he was confronted by a woman with an evil spirit.  She was a slave girl, common in those far off days, and not uncommon even in this country today, who earned much for her owners by fortune telling.  Demons have much knowledge and are not to be laughed at.  This woman followed Paul telling people that "These men are servants of the Most High God, and are telling you the way to be saved."  After a few days of this Paul turned round and in Jesus name commanded the spirit to leave her.  This was seen by the owners as unfortunate as they lost money, so a 'hubbub' arose and a crowd soon saw Paul and Silas stripped and flogged, then dumped in prison as serious offenders.  My reaction would have been one filled with rude words, Paul and Silas are found at midnight praying and singing hymns to God, with the other prisoners listening to them.  Clearly they had an effect on the others.  
An earthquake follows, not unusual in the region, and the prison walls shake, doors open, fetters loosened.  Not surprisingly the prison jailor fears for his life as everyone must have escaped.  However, Paul stops him and indicates all remain inside, revealing Pauls hold on them.  The Jailor then asks, "What can I do to be saved?"  The answer, "Believe in the Lord Jesus, and you will be saved, you and your household."  Paul then spoke the 'word of the Lord' to the household, the jailor washed their wounds, and soon he and his family were baptised. 
It is this incident that allows some to accept child baptism.  The jailor 'and all his family,' to some, indicates children were baptised.  But I wonder?  
This was Philippi, a Roman town, a place emptied by Augustus in 42 BC and used as a pension for retired Roman soldiers.  Each man was given something, a wine bar, a fast food joint, whatever suited them, and that was their pension.  By Pauls time their sons and grandsons, plus other ex-service men had filled the town, thus the jailor may well have been a member of the Roman army at some point.  I see him as a man, at least in his 40s, if not older, with grown up children, at least of teenage years.  His position as prison governor would not have been given lightly, so he may well have been at least a Centurion, with experience of leadership.  Therefore those who reckon children were involved in his household being baptised are merely surmising that to be the case.  My surmise may also be wrong but I will not mention this.    
Anyway, the kid here was baptised, then, learned how to toddle freely, spent much time toddling around the church drowning out the vicar, to everyone, bar the vicars, amusement.  These days kids get more freedom than in days gone by, but eventually someone grabbed him and others and dumped the in a play room.  Being a special service the normal kids events did not occur, and this may have been a mistake.  The kid was enjoyable, and all loved him.

 
I did not wish to stay and talk, I was very tired, but enough people spoke and listened to my idea of 'TikTok' fame.  The results were disappointing.  " What, You?" was a common expression, "Fame?" followed by sarcastic laughter, another.  Some wondered if a live picture of myself early in the day might breach the 'Law of England & Wales.'  One suggested wearing a Burqa, just in case.  The treasurer wished me well in obtaining cash and gave me the church bank numbers but with a strong hint of sarcasm as he did so, his son, a 'TikTok' follower just banged his head on the desk muttering something unclear.   I failed to understand their thinking.  Other indications of a lack of support drove me from the field and home to rest my ego and remain in poverty.     


With no little relief I have finished my Turmeric soup.  I am now planning another, somewhat lighter, and this time I may even attempt to add flavour, maybe...  


Sunday 24 July 2022

Sunny Sunday



Because of the heat we need to be beside the seaside.  
Of course I am not!

Instead today I had to hobble to Kirk in the great heat once again, about 76% at the time.  This was acceptable I suppose, a normal summer in the UK today.  

Church was enjoyable today.  Marina massaged my neck for a minute, Matt told me the tale of his wife, and I felt welcomed and part of the place, which is always nice.  A service which was unusual, intended mainly for kids, almost none of whom were to be seen.  The weather has taken many out, the summer holidays has a few still trying to cross over into France at Dover, and others will be sunning themselves in downmarket Espana.  This did not matter, we all enjoy the kids things more than they do anyway.  The leader today was not used to the job, he prefers to stay at the back like me, he took us through the 'Lords Prayer,' bit by bit and once again I was struck by the need to forgive all those many enemies of mine, avoid temptation (sorry Morag you must leave), and recollect how he offered me strength to obey and follow him many years ago.  
Why have I failed so badly to do this?  Tsk!
Revived sufficiently by a mug of tea and an argument with Gordon, who was meant to be washing the mugs, I once again trekked along the road in the increasing heat.  I forgave, eventually, a driver leaving the petrol station who refused to see me and almost got me.  I avoided the temptation of reaching for the sub-machine gun US style, and made it home for a bacon roll.  
Lunch time on a Sunday is often glorious like this.
There was also a mediocre football match on display, which I was forced to watch while I pondered furiously what to scribble tonight.  Nothing came.
  
I spent some few minutes posting once more on the new blog, concerning my late brothers time in RAF Sharjah during 1970/71.  These featured a holiday jaunt into the desert of Muscat to recognise the world they were defending.  Here RAF mechanics managed to get one of the Land Rovers waterlogged!  Britain need not fear!
Interestingly, or not as the case may be, after all that sunshine I see from my position, seated in my bed staring out the window while tapping on the spare (Win11) laptop that the rain clouds are gathering.  Does this mean summer is over for another year? 
Maybe I need a different kind of hat this week....?    

Sunday 17 July 2022

Sunny Sunday



I remained indoors this morning, sleep was fitful during the night and I did not fancy the walk.  The possible lift did not call so I remained eating and fiddling about instead of Kirk.  Naturally, with the sun at the zenith, around 12:30, I walked out across the park, round the gardens, and back down past the town centre.  Not that far, about 45 mins or so, but in the bright sunshine.   


My thermometer reads just under 80F, and tomorrow it may get worse.  Maybe I ought to have bought that overlarge hat yesterday anyway?  Nothing much appears to be happening.  Things are quiet as people sit in the sun, or hide from it, Twitter is full of Tory lies and bull, nothing in the press about Boris having a wedding party at Chequers on the taxpayer, thus indicating all the press men were there.  He has not gone, and he cannot be trusted!  He is up to something.


So, a feeble football match to fill the afternoon.  I would have been better asleep, catching up on what I missed last night.  Waking up every hour yet unable to return to sleep!  
Nothing new is on the horizon today.  The sun is keeping folks busy.  Boris's party has given them hangovers.  Tomorrow it all starts again...

Sunday 2 January 2022

First Sabbath of the year

The Kirk was almost empty this morning, whether this was due to people being away or the result of too much New Year celebrations was not made clear.  I was however, given a lift home, and home before noon is always a good thing.  It would have been better to have someone make lunch for me and then do the ironing but alas that did not happen.  So make do and mend and wonder "What was that I ate?" had to do.  
First sermon of the year is always tricky.  The church has to be reminded to set its heart on Jesus, not the world, to read the book, study the book, pray without ceasing and love one another.  This was not helped one year a long time ago when the pastor turned and looked in my direction as he urged us to "Move on with no more sin and (as he looked at me) no more spiritual jerks."  Quite how neither of us responded amazes me yet.   
Once home I discovered Championship football was on today.  This meant I could use PPV TV and watch Arbroath play Inverness.  This was welcomed I must say, and so £13 was soon paid and I waited by nodding off, until the game began.  This was great fun until 10 minutes in the server failed.  It took 15 mins at least before an alternative picture was found.  Apparently the server did not expect a thousand people to log in as usually only a couple of hundered do this at Arbroath.  However, government restrictions limiting the crowd to 500 meant many logged on and all collapsed.  'Vimeo,' for it was run via them, failed to impress many of the Angus hordes!  
In the end however I enjoyed the poor game played in high wind and was really too tired to care about much else.  I have struggled to wake in the mornings and look forward to a lie in tomorrow. 
 

Sunday 19 September 2021

Sunday Rain


By Gods grace I was given a lift to the Kirk this morning, and indeed back home again.  I needed the lift today.  It was however, a good morning, it is indeed nice to be welcomed, nice to have young women come to me and chat, and nice to meet new people passing through.  All in all I enjoyed the day and indeed felt lonely afterwards.  I did however, have the Dundee derby to entertain me, though entertain in a derby is a rarety.  
Rain had been threatened and in the middle of the afternood it came, bucketing down, sending pools across the street as the drains overflowed, and irritating drivers who had not watched the weather forecast.  
Those who work ourside, postmen, road diggers, farmers, soldiers, sailors, airmen, and dustmen, always check the weather before they go to work.  That way they can be prepared.  Too many others look out the window, see the sun, leave off the coat and wander out.  They can often be standing under trees while the lightning flashes around them, tee hee.
God is good, and I am off to sleep.
 

Sunday 29 December 2019

Sunday Ponder...


While sitting in church, listening to a man with a tea towel on his head impersonating a shepherd talking about heavenly choirs, I found myself trying to work out what day this was.  Being here on two Sunday's and one Wednesday upset my mind clock.  Was this Wednesday or Sunday?  It was still Christmas, mostly the same people, and similar songs.  
If I felt this way I wonder how the curate felt, he had to arrange all these services, including amending today's as he could not work out how to have an 'all included' service while discussing massacring children, so it was shepherds and angelic choirs instead.  Still it went off all right, all appeared happy, and many still have time off next week.  
On the way home under a sun hidden behind thin clouds I passed many a Christmas decoration.  Several houses had blow up snowmen, penguins and signs saying 'North Pole' and a reindeer or two outside their doors, all lit up at night.  My first thought was 'Penguins do not live at the north Pole.' Maybe I was being pedantic but it appeared a pint worth considering.  If those celebration Christmas, the 'Christ Mass' could get things correct in small areas maybe they might appreciate Christmas for what it actually represents.
OK some monk who's name I forget decided to appropriate the midwinter festival by adding Jesus birth to it, a failed attempt to end hedonism, and in truth Jesus possibly was born in March or April maybe, a time when the shops are less busy, but here we are with Christmas at er, Christmas.
Whatever the date the entry of God into the world, he lowered himself to the position of a child, enduring the world as it is for around 30 years and then after a 'sinless' life laying down his life, being separated from contact with his father for the first and only time in eternity, and suffering physical and spiritual pain all because we are the imperfect ones and required his sacrifice or we are lost forever, whatever the date, he deserves a better remembrance than plastic snowmen and penguins far from home.
Of course, he also deserves a better response from those who claim to know him...

Sunday 27 October 2019

Sunday Wander...


Church today was enjoyable, other than falling over young Alfie and almost breaking both our necks. The young ladies rushed to save me, an action which upset the 9 year old as they ignored him while ensuring I was still active.  Quite right too! 
Having made the decision to walk, either walk or fix the bike first, I hobbled down the road in a bright warm sun.  This brought out the motorbikes and Sunday drivers off for a drive, enabled those of us with a warm coat to wear  over our jackets, and the footballers to break sweat, and very occasionally, bones!

  
The under 16's here are pursuing their football dream of glory, even if they only make it to the smaller leagues, and if not enjoying themselves as they labour on the sloping pitch.  How I wished to change places with the goalkeeper!  Alas I merely wandered home and watched the professionals fail to play any better than these lads were doing this afternoon.  



Boris is quiet this weekend, he must be up to something!


Monday 18 March 2019

Monday Maudling


Another day of joy and gladness passes by.  This time the joy comes from visiting the happy smiling lass in Tesco, getting home before the sky turned a dark gray and rain hammered down for a while. Joy yesterday came from trundling down to the church and getting a lift home rather than walking into the stiff chilly breeze.  
How nice to get out again and get back into the old routine.  Speak to friends, get up to date news, place IOU in offering bag, the usual things on a Sunday morning.  Unfortunately I then had to watch far too many poor football games.  I managed however....
Tomorrow is museum day and while I would rather lie in bed still I suppose I must go.  It means I do not have to watch John Bercow put Mrs May in her place.


Good old John has dug out a law dating from 1604 that will not allow May to run the same question through parliament for the third time.  Poor May, maybe she will be glad about this, maybe she will seethe.  Either way it is good for the nation.  
But what will happen?  What is going on behind the scenes?  Again the DUP in Northern Ireland are holding out for money, again bribes are on offer, again lesser parties are helpless and again the elite line their pockets while the people suffer.
By the way I notice Mr Farage has launched his 'Walk from Sunderland to London' in support of 'Leave.' I was somewhat surprised, but not much, to learn that he is walking via his helicopter (who pays for that?) while the 'people' follow on the ground.  There is something of the Moseley about Farage, rich, pompous but unlike Moseley he fails to get elected anywhere so why does he get so much publicity I wonder?


   

Sunday 3 February 2019

Boring Sunday


This has been my view for much of the day.
French or German football for me as I have no SKY and no interest in what they were showing anyway.  I also did nothing of any sort worth noting, even the papers were more empty than normal, and I cared nothing for anything but sleeping again, which I managed somehow.
It began to feel a little bit like this Hancock show from 1958.
If that does not work this might...


 

Sunday 26 August 2018

Slow Day


It's been a long boring day.  Once the Motherwell v Rangers game was over all else appeared boring.  That game was worth watching, especially as Motherwell got their deserved equaliser with almost the last kick.  That nice Mr Gerrard has just realised how difficult this league will be.  He still has to go twice to Edinburgh to play the Heart of Midlothian and Hibernian, not at the same time, and our big centre Uchi will enjoy the men we saw out there today.
After that a succession of boring French and German football appeared, these, while offering decent amounts of skill were slow in comparison and the French league is the poorest of the two.  Yet these players get transferred for many millions while Scot lads are cheap?  Something wrong somewhere.
Not leaving the house has left me bored, no emails, only one chancer phone call and nothing to divert my attention from my troubles.  A boring day, and the rain falling all afternoon did not help the chill that gripped me today, another couple of days of sneezing lie ahead as if I have not got enough problems.
Any news?  No, it has all been swept under the carpet except for that attacking Scots independence, the media enjoy that while hiding their own bad news.  Clearly Independence is a threat again and the bad news stories are starting to appear in the media, more to come.  

Sunday 1 July 2018

Sabbath Muse


Trundling down to church in the sunshine was an unusual experience today.  I found my tinted glasses and looking like someone from Hollywood I ventured forth.  Surprisingly nobody noticed me.  This was a bit awkward, at least while using the zebra crossing and indeed on the way home where I failed to look properly crossing the road and almost went under the police car.  The fear of thirty pages of paperwork meant he said nothing and moved on.
Soon people will begin to hate the heat that never ends, water companies are already threatening hosepipe bans and crops are failing in the fields, so Tesco can increase the price.  The red backs will soon have folks grumbling at the doctors  and the incompetent government will be given the blame.
Living on this island allows great scope for grumbling.


Another book moves from the reading pile to the read shelf.  Very good it is too!
Far too many grumble about British generals and their apparent failings, this book, written by people who know as opposed to those with an axe to grind, offers us men in high positions with great responsibilities and carrying the same ambitions and failures we all have.  It shows these men to be human and far from willing to waste men's lives.
Haig himself is not mentioned, these are the army commanders, men who rose up the ranks to the top, some during the war and others in the field.  All had some sort of war experience, Sudan, India and the Boer War among them, all served at home and abroad.
The charge of uncaring generals wasting men's lives is often thrown around in the UK, never elsewhere for some reason, and these men were ordered to remove the enemy from France, therefore they had to deal with what was in front of them in the only way possible.  Tactics changed constantly over the period, weapons improved, yet the chief strategy was the same, siege warfare. 
There was no other choice.  The nonsensical waste of time and effort in Gallipoli and Salonika, ordered by London not the army, cost many lives but orders are orders.  The war could only be fought in France and Flanders nowhere else! 
For all the grumbles re generals, something that did not happen elsewhere and probably began with Lloyd George the one time Prime Minister trying to pass the buck onto the generals who followed his orders, it must be remembered that 70 or so generals died during the war, several of the leading army commanders suffered wounds and not only did they participate in holding the line with meagre resources against a vast German army in 1914 these were the men who finally pushed that army out of France and Flanders.
A good book, well written and worth reading.