Those fun guys

Daughter was feeling unwell so I walked Louie today, and spotted these fun guys on my path. I have no idea what they are or even if they're all the same sort at different stages of life.

I have written a new post on my substack but not the one I was planning to as I got distracted this morning, wondering what my purpose in life was, and going down the 'if my value does not depend on what I do then what does it depend on?' route. And getting very confused along the way.

Zac's tonight. Stu is leading and we're having communion in the form of bread and soup. And banana and chocolate chip cake. I've also booked Zac's in to have a stall at a Christmas charity event for the homeless. Hard to believe it's October tomorrow.

My head is so full I kept saying to myself, when I was walking, I really need a dictaphone. Can I use my phone for that? To record me speaking notes to myself? Probably. I shall have to check.

 

Tide and time

Set off on stage 1 of my personal pilgrimage, the actual physical walking bit, that is. A bit concerned that while I was in shorts and t-shirts, everyone else was in long trousers and coats, but once I got on the beach, walking in the sunshine, I soon warmed up. (Now, however, sitting at home at my desk I'm getting chilled. I've put my bed-socks on but might need a thicker jumper.)

Husband said, "Why exactly are you doing this?"
"I'm trying to find out how I got to be what I am, and, spiritually, how to be better."
"And walking to Mumbles answers that, does it?"
"No. It's going to be a long process."

My purpose in walking to Mumbles was to spend some time with God and to revisit my childhood home and All Saints, the church of my youth. I'll be writing about my thoughts over on my substack page should you wish to know more.

Meantime here are a few photos from the church.

I was christened, confirmed, and married in this church. My family have all been buried from there. It has a very long history going back to Norman times. I sat in the back row of the Lady Chapel - my view from there is above - where I used to sit with my mum when I went as a child and teenager. The Lady Chapel is the oldest part of the church and you can sit on the list below the names of the vicars, rectors, or perpetual curates. (one definition is that he was a curate who was paid a stipend rather than receiving a share of the parish's tithes. Beyond that it gets a bit confusing.)

In December 1863 there was a huge fire in the church of La Compañia de Jesus in Santiago, Chile. More than 2,500 people, mostly women and children, died in the worst blaze in Santiago’s history. Only the bells survived the furnace. Three were bought by Swansea industrialist, Graham Vivian, who gave them to his local church, All Saints in Oystermouth.

They remained there until 2010 when they were returned to Chile to form part of a new memorial to the victims of the fire.

The original bells in All Saints.

* * * * *

Walking along the beach I spotted a Little Egret. You don't see many herons on this beach so I was suitably excited. I know it's not the best photo but trust me, it was an egret. The other two I saw further along, hm, may or may not have been.

 * * * * *

I also viewed the recently unveiled memorial to a fireman who died in the course of duty. He was my best friend's sister's husband, and his death, in an accident involving the fire engine, shocked the village.

* * * * *

I've booked my flu jab but this year I'm too young to have the Covid one.

Treats and tuts

I had to go to Uplands to the stationery shop and discovered the farmers' market was on. Ended up spending loads of money on, amongst other things, these delicious-looking treats.

I dropped Husband off at the hospital for his cataract assessment this morning so I figured he would need a treat with his blurry eyes when he returns. (Not all at once of course!)

We've had some lovely weather this week and I've fitted in three walks: two to Pobbles with Daughter and Louie, and one on Swansea bay with Husband. As Husband said, "How lucky are we to be able to walk down the road and be here."

Previously we'd tried a bit of foraging over the tip but they'd cut down the pear tree and we only found two apples.

And some conkers, which are good for nothing, but have to be collected. It's a thing. (I've heard it said that a bowl of conkers in a room deters spiders. I am not convinced.)

* * * * *

I don't like the cars that are appearing now that look like armoured tanks. I don't like the cars that seem to have rubberised panels in the sides. I don't like pale cars with bright red wing mirrors. I don't like drivers who look cross because I'm sticking to the speed limit.

That's all. Just needed to empty my brain.

* * * * *

Visited my young boy in care. He asked me how old I felt. I couldn't answer. I don't feel old but it's really difficult to remember how I felt when I was twenty/forty/sixty. Inside I probably feel the same as always.

Outside now, that's another thing. As I'm sitting here thinking I'm finding and tugging on hairs on my lip and chin.

How old do you feel? Is it possible to answer that? Does it depend on the time of day and state of body?

Maybe tomorrow

We didn't swim but it did look tempting.

Maybe tomorrow.

Brain dead

Birthday Boy, Marcus

I decided it was pride telling me I had to make a cake for a birthday in Zac's last night, so I defied pride and bought one.

I was leading on the topic of the Good Samaritan. I'd chosen it because of recent events and conversations I'd had. I wanted to particularly pick up on, 'who are the Samaritans in our neighbourhood?' and the 'don't believe all you hear' themes.

At one point I said that in the parable Jesus is encouraging - no, telling - us to love our enemies, and I asked if anyone found it hard to love their enemies.

One man said, "No," and another said, "I don't have any enemies."

Nobody else said anything. Just me again then!

On reflection I should have rephrased it and said, "Do you find it hard to love those whose views are diametrically opposite to yours?" Or something like that. I guess most of us won't think in the terms of enemy.

Anyway some good discussions - although it did threaten to derail at one point over the question of giving money to beggars. (They'll only spend it on drugs versus if it gets them through the night. I'm of the latter viewpoint. Admittedly the Samaritan saw to more than the man's immediate needs but most of us don't have the time, money, expertise, to resolve someone's addiction, even assuming they are ready or want it to be resolved.) I wish I could say all these things at the time rather than thinking of them in the middle of the night.

I did warn everyone that I was slightly brain-dead after being in a safeguarding course all day. 9.30 to 4.30 is a long day of learning, more than my brain can deal with. Unnecessarily long in my opinion. It could have been over in a morning. I think I learned three things:

a) Safeguarding is everyone's responsibility - although I learned that from Level A; 

b) See something, say something;

c) There wasn't a c, unless you count, it's not your duty to investigate or judge, simply to report concerns.

I do have a greater awareness now, and the question of consent (to report) was interesting, so I suppose it probably did benefit me. 

Needless to say there was that one person who kept interrupting the trainers and showing off her knowledge, but I didn't have my hearing aids in so was able to switch off easily.

I did find out two more things. That is a Level F specifically for trustees, and every organisation should have a whistle-blowing policy. Will have to check if that's covered in our safeguarding policy.

* * * * *

I'm off for a walk with Daughter and Louie soon. She's suggested we might like to swim . . .

Feet up in front of the telly

I've just completed this online jigsaw.

It was only a few days ago I was saying to Daughter how, when I was little, the whole family would settle down in front of the television on a Sunday afternoon to watch a western or musical. My great-gran, my grandparents, my mum, me, and usually assorted other relatives.

The point I was making was that not only do we not have that regular family gathering time but that Sunday afternoons were meant for doing nothing. Sunday dinner was out of the way - at lunchtime - and it was time to sit down and relax.

If I sit down in front of the television of an afternoon it's because I'm unwell, or very rarely because I just need a rest. It's a habit I should revise.

That said, I'm getting on well with the list of things I need to do by tomorrow evening. I've done the online course, Level A, on safeguarding: easy and repetitive. I fear tomorrow's day-long Level B course could get boring. I've written out all my notes for leading bible study, I just need to go over them and get them in my head, and I even fitted in church, gardening, and puppy-visiting yesterday.

Look at that face!

Another greenery grazer.

Theo but not logy

On Monday evening I went with Elder Son and the grandboys to see some puppies. Today one of them came to live with Elder Son and his family. Meet Theo!

He's an eight week old Golden Retriever.

When I went on Monday Husband said to Elder Son, "If you come home having bought two puppies (i.e. one for me too) they will both be going to live with you!"

I don't know how he can resist. Big sighs.

No, not Wednesday but Tuesday

You know sometimes you may think . . . and then you realise you don't have time.

The safeguarding course I have signed up for that I thought was on Wednesday is on Tuesday. The latest email says I should have done Level A before this course (this wasn't mentioned originally) - and that I can do it online.

I'm leading Zac's study on Tuesday so need to finish prep for that. It's also Marcus' birthday on Tuesday so my vague thought that I could get away without making a cake this week has come to naught. (I know I could buy one but . . .)

This last week it was Claire our chef's birthday so I made brownies (most excellent brownies even though I say it myself) and took those in to celebrate on Thursday lunchtime. It's also Stu's birthday tomorrow.

Friday morning I was back in Zac's for an emergency trustee meeting. Our chair had announced his retirement and Poj and I were elected as co-chairs. Should point out there was not a lot of option as our only remaining trustee is in Hong Kong, and is a silent trustee. Some big decisions had to be made. More information to follow when certain things have happened.

In between times I've been thinking about my pilgrimage and writing - and getting distracted. But now I need to put it to one side while I focus on safeguarding and prep for bible study. Also buying food for dinner. And watching England women play France in the Rugby World Cup semi-finals. Amazing show from Canada last night beating reigning champions, New Zealand, especially considering the Canadian team had to crowd-fund to pay for their training and travelling expenses.

So, sorry, I haven't been blog-visiting much. Need to shake a leg now.

But I did notice it was World Bamboo Day earlier this week. Apparently it's the fast-growing plant in the world - as if anyone needed to tell me that. Also it would have been George's birthday today.

Technology again

Today it's Substack - not Soundstack as I originally googled and couldn't understand why it was all about sound.

It all sounds so simple to begin with - until you delve into it. I've been thinking about how best to journal my pilgrimage. Yes, journal's a good word. Old school pen and paper? In Microsoft Word? Another blog? Then I thought about Substack. While I'm not entirely sure what it is or how it works it felt like it might be a better alternative, mainly because it's possible to click on Faith and Spirituality and the majority of the posts I get then will be in that topic, so I'll be reading and writing with like minds and, hopefully, will find it easier to build a following. (I still have this vague idea that there may be a book somewhere at the end, and even if not there may be people who will find my meanderings and ramblings helpful.) And if that following interacts that in itself may be helpful.

So if you'd be interested in reading my first post - and possibly subscribing (it's free) - please do. You'll find it here.

* * * * *

In other news exciting things could be happening both family and Zac's wise but I'm not allowed to say anything yet. 

So, where was I holiday wise?

I remember. I suggested to Nuora she would make a better job of translating and writing signs than the Italian/English translator on this one.

Always 'harvest the organic waste'!

On the final day in Garda Husband and I went to Sirmione, a little town leading to a narrow headland. There was an impressive castle at the gate of the town - with a pink crocodile in its moat . . .

It was here I had my biggest ice cream of the holiday. A double scoop passionfruit cheesecake cone.

At the end of the headland the water was very shallow, lying over sandy-coloured flat rocks.

There was a sculpture exhibition running with artworks scattered all over the town. We spotted a few, some of which I liked more than others. Identity with noise and silence.

This sign shows the headland and the locations of the sculptures.

But I don't think this headless man was part of the exhibition.

Cobwebs? What cobwebs?

A lovely walk with Daughter and Louie today certainly blew away the cobwebs. Would have blown us away if it had been offshore instead of on. My attempts to photograph the huge waves splashing failed miserably.

Then it was home and thinking about the project I mentioned before going on holiday. The idea of a pilgrimage through grace.

My first plan to read Amazing Grace was stymied when I found I didn't have it as I'd thought. I also realised it's called, What's So Amazing about Grace? by Philip Yancey. So I've ordered that and instead sat down with The Ragamuffin Gospel by Brennan Manning. I did what I never do: marked out significant passages. Then fell asleep. This is the problem when I sit down comfortably in the afternoon. Maybe I'll have to sit at my desk and read. 

I was determined to make a start on my 'pilgrimage' as already I'm losing confidence in my ability and/or perseverance. Things aren't helped by my lack of clarity about where I want to go with it as I'm not sure the place/condition I'm aiming for exists, at least not for long.  Or indeed if a study type pilgrimage will get me there, wherever that is.

* * * * *

Back less than five days and already I've emailed the PM and my MP about the government's failure to stand up to and speak out against the Far Right. Instead they seem to be pandering to them. Husband tells me they are acting as they are as they want to win over those who would vote for the FR. I say they should think about their own voters first, the ones who are getting disillusioned. I could never be an MP; I am too controlled by my heart.

We're watching Hostage on Netflix. The husband of the British Prime Minister is kidnapped and held hostage. The kidnappers want her to resign. Her daughter and father can't understand why she refuses. 

(Just scratched my head and got fingernails full of sand from our windy walk.)

Think I'll do a bit of gardening now.

That's lemons to you

The weather was dull on the Thursday we were in Garda so we visited the town of Valegio sul Mincio

Mincio is the river that flows from Garda starting at Peschiera (see previous post). Another little old town with lots of expensive shops. The area must be famous for lemons as a lemon theme dominates the souvenir shops. (The region around the lake has a unique microclimate and monks in the fourteenth century introduced lemons to the area. Once a major export, the unique Modernina lemons are still used in local cuisine. Thanks, Google.)

From a cockerel to a swan

Yesterday was horrendously wet; today it's currently dry but very windy. I am in the bedroom looking at the tree just outside the garden. I am sure it is leaning closer than it was before. Would it hit our house if it fell, I ponder. 

And this, you see, is why the world needs the app I suggested years ago, and that nobody except me thought was a good idea. A 'How big is it?' app. You'd just point it at whatever and it would do the hard geometry and tell you the answer. 

In the meantime I'll avoid standing in front of the house.

So, back to Lake Garda.

Because it was a family holiday we spent most of the time in the lake or the pools. The lake temperature was on average 23 but it felt warmer because it is so shallow for so long.

Younger Son doing a handstand gives a little impression of how far out you could go without getting out of your depth. It was wonderful for the children and the grown-ups once we'd remembered to keep our legs up when swimming to avoid grazing them on the sand below.

What was unusual - to a sea swimmer anyway - was the presence of swans and ducks. After my cockerel experience I was wary of the swans at first but they are well accustomed to humans and associate them with food.

Swimming in the lake was lovely but the place was very busy. Looking around the circumference of the lake we could see there were no gaps; it all appeared built up. Understandable I suppose: everyone wants to live on the lakeside. But not what I'd been expecting. 

It got very crowded on the beach but still didn't justify the disregard for personal space shown by the lady who plonked her green towel down next to Husband!

The highlight of the trip for the children was the ride on the pedalo. 

So good they did it twice, the second time I was persuaded to go along. I had refused point blank to go on the slides in the swimming pools. I've always avoided them but with the grandchildren putting me to shame, sliding down into the sea, and jumping off the pedalo, I plucked up my courage. It wasn't until we'd always run out of time that I thought, "No, don't be a wimp, you can do this. What's the worst that can happen?" "Don't answer that!"

So I did it. It was terrifying just climbing up the ladder on a wobbly plastic contraption out at 'sea' but I got to the top, took a deep breath, and began sliding. Very slowly. I deliberately pressed my feet against the side so it wouldn't be fast, and then I was in the water. And the good news is: I came back up again. To cheers and a round of applause.

Having done it once I thought, "Right, I've got to do it again, otherwise I'll lose my nerve again." Back up wobbly slide and then down. There was no holding me back this time: I was wet and couldn't stop myself whizzing down and around the bend into the sea. 

I can't say it was the highlight of my trip - apart from having conquered my fear - but I did it. And, thus inspired, resolved to go on the slide at the pool. Here, unfortunately, I let go off my nose at the wrong moment and got a right noseful, thus putting me off again! Hey ho. There's always next year.

* * * * *

The campsite was a fifteen minute walk from the little town of Peschiera del Garda, called the Venice of Italy. (No, that can't be right. The Venice of the North. No, that's wrong too. Okay, called, The Place a bit like Venice.)

A town once reliant on its fishing industry, tourism is now its lifeline.

A town full of restaurants and gelateria!

The Doctor and me

Some time ago Younger Son invested in chickens. Seven hens and one cockerel. He gave them all Doctor Who character names so, for example, the cock is The Doctor and the big brown one is Donna. They produce lots of beautiful eggs including blue ones - which I forgot to photograph. Anyway, all was going well until The Doctor attacked me, leaving me scarred! (Okay, a tiny scratch on my leg.)

He's very handsome, isn't he? But mean. Just before he attacked me I'd been playing with the children. They were on the trampoline, which is next to the coop, and I was being the shark, running around the outside of the trampoline, trying to catch them. I could see him watching me but didn't think anything of it, until he crowed, flapped his wings, and made a run at me.

I quickly ran away and excused his behaviour on the grounds that he saw the children as part of his flock and was protecting them. 

But I wasn't doing anything the next time he went for me - behind my back I may add!

I took to carrying a wooden sword or big stick around with me when I was in the garden.

We came home from Garda - while Nuora's father had been looking after the chickens -  to a completely rogue cockerel attacking everyone, even Lobo, the dog. 

The week after Garda Younger Son was away - more on that later - and Nuora and I were terrified of the creature. With good reason. Here's Husband keeping The Doctor at bay with a brush while Nuora replenishes the water.

There was talk of Coq au vin . . .

But when Younger Son returned The Doctor must have realised that The Master was back and began to behave again. He lives to crow another day. Actually if Younger Son had been away much longer cock wouldn't have been able to crow at all. All his posturing left him hoarse so each day his cock-a-doodle-do became a bit shorter.