Saturday 29 December 2018

The Great Hercule

We were disappointed in the new ABC Murders on the Beeb.  It is a wonderful Christie book - vintage Poirot.  And I know its been made many times, so its hard to find the new angle. But shouldn't it be an angle that is in harmony with the plot, not one that works against it.

And all those continually arty shots and camera angles...  I am sure they are great fun for the crew to do, but they make it boring for us, the boring old audience. We have seen it all before, a trillion times. And Agatha Christie never bores.

Rupert Grint was good. As, actually, was John Malkovich.  Though, and a possible Spoiler Alert here, isn't this exactly the wrong Christie in which to be giving us a washed-up and forgotten Poirot?

Surely a very important plot point is that he is at the height of his fame, so that it does seem feasible these murders could be a direct challenge to him?  I will have to read the book to make sure, but it looked as if they were going to throw away a wonderful bit of Christie misdirection...

And where is Hastings?   One clue to the whole thing lies in a remark he makes.

Oh well - we retreated into a series of Jonathan Creek repeats. Which are great fun - and scary too.

The thing is if you want a new Poirot, why not write your own?

I don't know what to say about the year that is going...  I am just so grateful we are still here, and hope we all will be this time next year.

And we are another year nearer to our rescue - to the time that Jehovah will remove all the unrepentant violent and wicked from the earth.

And to end my blogyear on another positive note - a minor one - I just got a compliment from a reader in Oz to say how much they enjoyed "Waiting for Gordo"!

It is lovely to hear that someone has enjoyed something I have written.  And thanks so much to Jehovah for the gift of language, and the ability to use it to create something that can interest and entertain.

Wednesday 26 December 2018

Simon Rosendale or Lawrence Selden, which is best?

No I am not suggesting a fight.    But the question came up as my sister has written the Introduction to the Macmillan Collectors Library edition of Edith Wharton's "House of Mirth".

Its a book we both love and I was reading her intro today and was pleased to find that she notes how honest Sim Rosendale is, compared to most of those around him.

And we both agree that he is the one Lily Bart should have married.   His proposal is so straightforward and realistic  compared to her other suitors - two of whom are married anyway.

And - Spoiler Alert - poor Lawrence - a single guy and her true love - and unfortunaely a cross between Hamlet and the tiresome Angel Clare (of Tess of the d'Urbervilles fame) - can't bring himself to make the decision to propose to Lily until it's too late.

There has been some gossip about her... so is she good enough for him?   An interesting point given we are to understand that he has been having an affair with a married woman.

At any rate, our choice for Lily would have been Simon Rosendale.


It was not a white Christmas this year, but a cold and dampish one. The tall, old, and empty trees look wonderful under a pale gray sky.

Jehovah made everything so beautifully. If only everyone would look up today and think about the intricate splendour of the trees against the sky and feel moved to find the Maker of this beauty.

If you look for Jehovah, he will let you find him.

Friday 21 December 2018

An Arthritis Flare-up

Right wrist -very very very painful and debilitating, making me frighteningly aware of just how crippled my left arm is now.  It started in the early hours of Wednesday morning, so no sleep at all Wed night...  the Captain had to stay in all day to help me...

Oh dear.

Anyway, I slept last night, right through which was wonderful.  The hand is not back on line but at least I can type a little.   So the main story of the week is cancellations - all my arrangements.

And I listened in to the meeting last night on the phone link.

I did manage to get the one New Butterfly Member who came winging through my letterbox a membership package parcelled up and I hope the valiant Captain can face braving the Post Office in Christmas week to get it sent.  I still can't drive.  Hand too painful.

Tuesday 18 December 2018

Ranulph Fiennes is "Cold"

At the moment I am reading Ranulph Fiennes book "Cold' - a sort of compendium of his Arctic and Antarctic adventures - and I came across this little verse I thought I would share.  It is written by his friend Wally Herbert, to wish him well on the next stage of the cold adventure, in the Arctic, where there are polar bears.

With my very best wishes for the final dawn
I send tips to help win the fight:
Beware of the calm that follows the storm
And the floes that go bump in the night.

Never trust ice that appears to be dead,
And if you want peace of mind,
Steer well clear of the bear up ahead
And cover that bear behind.

Wise advice - for those Arctic regions, and for those nether regions.

I enjoy reading about these things as I am so unadventurous myself, and am just exactly the sort of person you would not want along on such an expedition.  So its the only way I am going to get there - this side of Armageddon.  IF I am on the earth afterwards, then who knows?

Saturday Jean and I did over two hours on the ministry - very good for us in our tottery state.  And it was the meeting Sunday.  Other than that a very quiet weekend.  A Saturday night in sharing fish and chips and watching the final of Strictly Come Dancing.    As perfect as a Saturday night can presently get.

Saturday nights in the restored earthly paradise.... who knows?  But I hope we are all there to find out.

Friday 14 December 2018

The Plague and Us

We have both come down with a horrible cold and are feeling very sorry for ourselves. Cough cough cough.   The Captain had a doctor's appointment and a haircut first thing - and I went off shopping very early - both for us and for Jacks.

So we have a quiet day indoors.   Col working on his Metal Detector finds - researching - and I made  some more cakes for the packed lunches - marmalade muffins this time, Mark's favourite.   I also did my Watchtower study for Sunday - about the important of teaching the truth.   And I planned to tackle the latest Butterfly memberships - but ran into some problems understanding them this month - and have a query in with Butterfly HQ, so can't proceed till they sort out the tangle.

I had a good morning out with my siblings on Thursday. We did an hour and a half going door to door and finished our territory. It was freezing.   But we - my partner and I - both had 2 good calls we hope to return to in the New Year.

We had news of two deaths this week - Aunt Bea's cousin John, and one of my sisters in the congregation- cancer in both cases.  And both leave a family behind that is going to miss them so much.

Here is a poem as I have been reading some de la Mare recently - and have loved his poems since Junior School - many eons ago.


Song of the Mad Prince
by
Walter de la Mare

Who said, "Peacock Pie"?
The old King to the sparrow:
Who said, "Crops are ripe"?
Rust to the harrow:
Who said, "Where sleeps she now?
Where rests she now her head,
Bathed in eve's loveliness"? —
That's what I said.

Who said, "Ay, mum's the word"?
Sexton to willow:
Who said, "Green dusk for dreams,
Moss for a pillow"?

Who said, "All Time's delight
Hath she for narrow bed;
Life's troubled bubble broken"? —
That's what I said. 


And I want to end the blog with this promise from our Creator, Jehovah, the Fulfiller of all his promises:

“Your dead will live. My corpses will rise up. Awake and shout joyfully, You residents in the dust! For your dew is as the dew of the morning, And the earth will let those powerless in death come to life." - Isaiah 26:19

There will be an awakening from the dreamless sleep of death, but not until God's will is done on the earth, and the peace that prevailed in Eden has been restored.    I hope to be there to see John and Yvonne then.  I hope we will all be there.


Tuesday 11 December 2018

When Dinosaurs Roamed the Earth

Monday morning - cold, damp, then some wonderful winter sunlight as I dropped Jackie's shopping in to her. Obviously I did ours too and got some non-Xmas wrapping paper and gift cards for the pressies for the youngest grandkids. The older ones will have money in a non-Xmas card.

We hope to be seeing Sami, who is now experiencing her first year at Newcastle Uni - where the Captain and I met back in the Sixties - when dinosaurs roamed the earth.  Does the Bunroom still exist?  And if so, do they still serve my favourite - a cheese and pineapple bun?  And what can it cost now?   More than a shiny new farthing I bethink me.   And is Jesmond still a student area?  Or is it now too pricey?  And above all, is Sam enjoying it? She says so, so far.  She looked both stunning and studious in the picture she put on Facebook.

I got us our lunch, which was really just a question of hotting things up - there was a portion of the smoked haddock dish plus some rice left from Saturday night - which went in the microwave. And i found I had overbought lettuce, so I braised a lettuce for Col to have with it.  I had the cauliflower soup, which is not bad at all, though only I think because I put a whole fresh chile in it.

It was salmon and avocado salad for supper, with new potatoes for himself. I am supposed to be eating oily fish 3 times a week under my new diabetes regime - and I am still trying to work up to 1 time a week.   When I have fish I like it to be cod, in batter, with chips and curry sauce.  Bu it was bad planning to have two fish meals in one day.

Jean and I had a great time out this morning - managing to get  a lot more return visits done. We may even be able to get back to first call next week, weather permitting. Then I made it it to the docs for the latest blood test, and to put my bp results (not good) in for my GP, and put the next prescription in the appropriate box.

This afternoon I fell asleep.  My batteries are low, and I am running on an almost empty tank.


Saturday 8 December 2018

A Perpetual Motion Machine

Yesterday everything was in shades of grey, lots of rain, with splendid waves on The Channel

The Channel is a perfect perpetual motion machine, turned by the Universe.   We can see the work of the Grand Creator, Jehovah, in the power and the beauty of its endless waves.   We can see his work everywhere in spite of living in a fallen world.  And, appropriately enough, at the Hall Thursday night, we were studying the account of Jesus calming the storm.

As King of Jehovah's Kingdom, Jesus will bring the natural forces on the earth back into the perfect harmony they had in Eden.   His Kingdom government will achieve what no human government, with the best will in the world, can.

We went out and did our shopping during a temporary pause in the rain. And I did my Watchtower study for Sunday.   Apart from that I can't think what I did.    And now its Saturday and I am off with the valiant Jean - as Col has decided not to go on his Detectoring today.  So he will supervise the Young Man Who Will (hopefully) Fix Our Door.

The morning was cold, but sunny and with that low Winter sun that makes everything look wonderful.  We did return visits - lots of them - drove all over the place - and then had a sandwich lunch at the Hall, and watched the Broadcast.
https://tv.jw.org/#en/home

At 42.16 there is a powerful and touching talk which references the experiences of our brothers who were imprisoned in Sachsenhausen.



Thursday 6 December 2018

Peas with Honey

The doorbell rang yesterday evening and it turned out to be a guy with a mysterious parcel for The Captain.

When Col got back the mystery was revealed.   He has brought me two books of poetry as a Winter Present!.

The books are:

A Poem for Every day of the Year
edited by Allie Esiri

and

The Nations Favourite Poems
with a foreword by Griff Rhys Jones

There are many old favourites and many poems that I think will become favourites.

I have already come across this forgotten little gem by that prolific poet Anon:

I eat my peas with honey
I've done it all my life
They do taste kind of funny
But it keeps them on the knife.

I think I shall be referencing these books in my blogs.

Today I had quite a complicated morning out on the doors - we did over 2 hours..   And Jean and I had a great time together on Tuesday doing return visits.     The guy to fix the front door came,but it is not fixed yet - it requires another part which will arrive Saturday together with the young man who will fit it. As Col is out all day on Important Business, I will have to be at home.   My plan is to get on with my next book.  I am suddenly getting people asking me when they will be able to read it....

We saw Maggie on Wednesday.  She is much frailer, but was very pleased to see us, whoever we are.  And she held my hand very tightly.   She is so brave and cheerful about everything...




Tuesday 4 December 2018

A Window in Time

Col found this silver coin - almost 2,000 years old - on one of his recent Detectorist outings.

If that coin could talk!    Though maybe all it could tell us is what the inside of a 2,000 year old purse looks like...
https://colinknight.blogspot.com/2018/12/celtic-silver-unit-verica-cavalry-duo.html

Jean and I had a lovely morning on the doors  - we were invited in for a cup of tea, and we also stopped for a chat with two gents on the road who both accepted the current magazine from us.
https://www.jw.org/en/publications/magazines/awake-no3-2018-nov-dec/agony-of-grief/

I wish everyone would read it, think seriously about what it says, and note how different and  comforting what the Bible says about death is, as compared to what the world's religions tell us.

I am struggling with the new way of Diabetes eating,  Its not easy.  I had a bean and mushroom stew with broccoli followed by sugar free jelly and greek yoghourt for lunch. The Captain was out at the Arundel Wetland Trust, and had lunch there.  Lentil soup - so I will have to make him a omelette tonight as I had made a veggie soup, but I don't think he will want soup twice in one day.

I got the magazine about Grief posted to Lilian. She still misses Dave so much.  He was a great guy.  I met him for the first time in Saudi Arabia - many years ago  - when he was the brand-new boyfriend.  I pulled up outside Lilian's and there was a guy (a Brit expat as it turned out) tidying her little front garden.

"Hello. I'm Dave" he said.  "Lilian doesn't know I'm out here - I am sorting out her front garden as a surprise."

What a lovely guy I thought. And so her proved to be.  Good-looking too!

The Captain - also good-looking - is working away at the next computer.  He was back early.




Saturday 1 December 2018

The Bright Morning Star

When I drew back the curtains on Friday morning I was greeted by the bright morning star - shining like a jewel in the early morning darkness.  Its easy to see the holiness of the world in the very early morning.    And when the Captain drove us back from Waitrose, the light on the Channel was wonderful - everything sparkled and shone to a rather ominious sky in the background. There was a giant anvil-shaped cloud over the sea.

It made me think of these lovely words at Revelation 22:16: “‘I, Jesus, sent my angel to bear witness to you about these things for the congregations. I am the root and the offspring of David and the bright morning star.’”

And while the lovely earth is telling us and telling of its Grand Creator, Jehovah, "the world" the current wicked system of things on the earth does all it can to stop us seeing the truth.

I found this lucid video on Youtube pointing out the relentless propaganda the world is saturated with:  https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IA1BQhPloRA

She nails it very well.   And how much damage does this constant stream of poison do?   And what do the Inspired Scriptures warn us?  That "the whole world", all its institutions, lie in the power of the one who is called "the father of the lie" - Satan the devil. 

As she says, once you are aware, you start to see it everywhere.    For example, Bargain Hunt, which Col and I enjoy watching when we are home together for lunch. A fun antiques competition?  Yes. But it is made by the BBC, and it relentlessly pushes the world's propaganda.   Please notice, if you watch it, every time a married couple comes on it has to be established - jokily of course - that she is the bosa and the husband does what he is told. Which neatly turns the Biblical marriage arrangement on its head.

And that I guess is the point. 


Had a complex, interesting and troubling morning on the doors on Thursday.  How much people need the truth.  And Friday was a shopping and cooking day.  I made a fish pie for today, and a veggie dish and some soup.  It will be a rather dreary potato-free soup for me, and the usual cheese sandwich and cake lunch for the Captain, off in the rainy wilderness of Hampshire, treasure hunting.  Will he find his way through the trackless unmapped wastelands of  designer villages, detached houses, and coffee bars?

Jean and I were not able to go on the work as it was pelting down. But I phoned Lilian, ex Planet-expat, and we had a long chat, about old times, and things.   Now the heating seems to have packed up!   And I am sitting here clutching a comforting hot hot-water bottle.   I have become a pensioner in a cold flat.  But I can't claim fuel poverty. In fact, when the Captain returns and presses he right combination of buttons, warmth should be restored.

As for what it must be like to be a rough sleeper in this weather!    Once again, how much we need the Kingdom of God, under whose loving rule we can go to bed in safety, not needing to worry about those who have no bed to go to. Everyone will have a home then. And we will have no need to lock and bolt our doors and windows.

Wednesday 28 November 2018

D E S M O N D. Dismal

Today we have been at my DESMOND Course (Diabetes Education and Self Management for Ongoing and Newly Diagnosed).     I say Dismal rather unfairly as it was an excellent course - everyone so diagnosed should go on one - and even more importantly, all those who are told they are pre-diabetic should go on one.   Insist on it.    They really do explain what the problem is, and what you must do about it.

And it was run by two lovely girls - one a pretty young mum with diabetes herself, and the other a stunning girl with long black curly hair.  Col was enthralled.   They explained and taught us very well, and though it was a full day, it went quickly.

Dismal though because it means such a change in my life.    What I like to eat are carbs and fruit - I can live quite happily without meat, fish and eggs.  And they seem to want us to eat fish twice a week - oily fish. It will have to be salmon  - and I am not a lover of salmon, unless the poor creature has just been pulled from the icy waters of South Island, New Zealand.

My breakfast is Ok as is.   And if I stick to veggie soup for lunch that is OK too.  But that is going to be a dismal business without bread or potatoes.  As for the evening meal - salad with tinned salmon and beans I guess.  The poor old Captain is going to get very tired of it, as I doubt I have the energy to prepare two different meals - not every night anyway.

And only 2 helpings of fruit a day.  I eat fruit obsessively, all the time. 

I know I should not complain.  This is a world in which thousands - millions? - of people live their whole lives never knowing what it is not to be hungry.  These are First world problems.

The best bet would be to look on food as the enemy, as something like medication, that has to be taken in a certain amount for my own good.  But not as something I expect to be much fun.   And I can remember being like as a child - even though my mother was a very good cook.  Food was something of a chore then.

I now have to do my best to return to those days.   And do I have to give up wine?   I only drink once a week, when Jacks is here, or we are at her place.  And then I do like a few glasses. But, perhaps I could make do with one and just quietly top it with water.

It is all very very depressing.

Anyway, tomorrow I am out with one of my siblings - we plan to meet up at the Field Service group in the morning and then, in the evening, its the meeting at the Kingdom Hall, which is just exactly what I need.  Thank God for the truth (Christianity being called "the way of the truth").  I puzzles me how anybody manages without it. Though,sadly, the truth is that so many don't.

On the plus side, Jean and I had a lovely morning out on Tuesday, catching up with route calls and return visits. 

Which reminds me, I also have to get more exercise.  But how?  I was talking to the lady next to me whose arthritis is even worse than mine, and we were saying how impossible it is. We can totter slowly about but that is it. Everyone suggests water exercises at the Pool.  But I can no longer get myself in and out of a swimmie since my shoulder replacement.   And Pools are so horrible slippery - I am just too scared of another fall.

Oh dear, oh dear, oh dear.   What next?

Anyway, we are supposed to have stratagems for fighting this battle, and one of my mine might be to blog about my progress (or more likely lack of it), so you have been warned!


Monday 26 November 2018

CHARM of the Masai Mara

Charm, the valiant matriarch of the Masai Mara Marsh lion pride, is in the review news after last night's amazing and harrowing episode of Dynasties - the latest David Attenborough production.

The life of the pride is full of tragedy.
https://www.independent.co.uk/arts-entertainment/tv/reviews/dynasties-episode-3-review-david-attenborough-lions-bbc-a8647321.html

She was forced to abandon her sick cub when he became very ill after taking some poisoned bait left out by the cattle herders..  The male lions have either abandoned the pride, or been killed or been poisoned themselves. She and her sister were the only adults left to care for the cubs - and I think that was the moment when her sister disappeared too - poisoned I guess.   She had to move the pride on, away from the danger of us humans and livestock.   Charm kept visiting and re-visiting her sick cub, but he could not walk.  They parted lingeringly and with such sadness.

All during my youth scientists and biologists kept telling me that animals had no feelings "only instincts".   What is it about "the world and its wisdom" that can make people so blind, because even a child can see that is not true.  The animal creation, which should have been lovingly cared for by us, has suffered and is suffering terribly because of the rebellion in Eden.

How much we all need the coming rescue.  Then, when paradise is restored, earthwide, "the lion will eat straw just like the bull".  There will be no need then for the danger and the violence of hunting and all lions, all animals, will be able to look to us for any help they might need.   They will no longer need to fear we might poison their cubs.

What did become clear is that the press of human population means the Masai Mara is no longer quite the refuge it was meant to be.

How can people and their livestock and wild animals co-exist in the world as it is now?    Would I like to have a lion pride locally?    In theory, there would be plenty for them to eat - think of all us elderly shoppers zimmering along - talk about easy prey. And, lets face it, if they ate me it would save the Health Service a fortune. 

And I would love to look out my window in the morning and see a pride of lions basking on The Green - but it would be deeply upsetting to see the slaughter of the dogs and their walkers that would inevitably follow.

What is the answer?  Only the Kingdom of God will restore the peace that prevailed in Eden.   Has the Kingdom preaching work that Jesus left for his followers to do ever been more urgent?

And I hope to be out with the valiant Jean tomorrow morning, on the door to door work.

I feel as if I have done next to nothing today. I did the shopping for us and Jacks, got lunch and supper for the Captain et moi - veggie soup, baked potato with cheese and baked beans - did my study - we are in Acts at the moment - and a lot of dozing in front of the telly.  And talked to Dan - my young publisher (swamped with toys and a two year old), and my youngest sister Pen.







Sunday 25 November 2018

Saturday Night

Its Saturday night and we are just waiting for AM and Jacks to arrive for supper.  I thought it was about time I actually cooked something, rather than Cooksed it, and we are having Paprika chicken - with rice, and a salad. Followed by the usual ice-cream.

Jean and I had a lovely morning on the Field Service, and I was also out Wednesday afternoon and Thursday morning with others of my siblings.  I am still way behind with my calls though. I don't think we ever catch up.

And I am behind with my blogs too - as its now Sunday evening and I am waiting for Captain B to return from his treasure hunting.  Supper is ready - chicken vegggie soup, made using the last of the Paprika chicken from last night.    Everyone seemed to like the food - and had seconds. But i wasn't too enthused about it.  However, we all had a good evening - lots of chatting and laughter (and wine).

The Captain even gave AM the last of his calendars, the one that he had earmarked for the Raffle at the Wetlands Trust!   

There was lots of perfect advice, kindly and patiently delivered, at the Kingdom Hall today. We were considering how tenderly and carefully Jehovah looks after his congregated people - how that exodus of thousands from slavery in Egypt was so carefully organised.  And that was followed by the miraculous delivery at the Red Sea.

We need to build a strong faith in Jehovah now.  And experiencing the loving and orderly way we are cared for in the congregations is very faith-building.

I note a headline in the Sundays, saying something like "ADAM & EVE DID EXIST, scientists discover all humans are the descendants of one couple!!"

Yes.  Genesis has been telling us that from the beginning.  We are all the damaged children of disobedient Adam, all brother and sisters, all caught in the same trap, and all in need of the same rescue.

And we are all made from the dust of the ground - we are made out of the lovely earth we live on. And, if we listen to our Creator, we can live on it forever.


Wednesday 21 November 2018

A Forsaken Garden

I think I must now blog the whole poem.

A Forsaken Garden
In a coign of the cliff between lowland and highland, 
       At the sea-down's edge between windward and lee, 
Walled round with rocks as an inland island, 
       The ghost of a garden fronts the sea. 
A girdle of brushwood and thorn encloses 
       The steep square slope of the blossomless bed 
Where the weeds that grew green from the graves of its roses 
               Now lie dead. 

The fields fall southward, abrupt and broken, 
       To the low last edge of the long lone land. 
If a step should sound or a word be spoken, 
       Would a ghost not rise at the strange guest's hand? 
So long have the grey bare walks lain guestless, 
       Through branches and briars if a man make way, 
He shall find no life but the sea-wind's, restless 
               Night and day. 

The dense hard passage is blind and stifled 
       That crawls by a track none turn to climb 
To the strait waste place that the years have rifled 
       Of all but the thorns that are touched not of time. 
The thorns he spares when the rose is taken; 
       The rocks are left when he wastes the plain. 
The wind that wanders, the weeds wind-shaken, 
               These remain. 

Not a flower to be pressed of the foot that falls not; 
       As the heart of a dead man the seed-plots are dry; 
From the thicket of thorns whence the nightingale calls not, 
       Could she call, there were never a rose to reply. 
Over the meadows that blossom and wither 
       Rings but the note of a sea-bird's song; 
Only the sun and the rain come hither 
               All year long. 

The sun burns sere and the rain dishevels 
       One gaunt bleak blossom of scentless breath. 
Only the wind here hovers and revels 
       In a round where life seems barren as death. 
Here there was laughing of old, there was weeping, 
       Haply, of lovers none ever will know, 
Whose eyes went seaward a hundred sleeping 
               Years ago. 

Heart handfast in heart as they stood, "Look thither," 
       Did he whisper? "look forth from the flowers to the sea; 
For the foam-flowers endure when the rose-blossoms wither, 
       And men that love lightly may die—but we?" 
And the same wind sang and the same waves whitened, 
       And or ever the garden's last petals were shed, 
In the lips that had whispered, the eyes that had lightened, 
               Love was dead. 

Or they loved their life through, and then went whither? 
       And were one to the end—but what end who knows? 
Love deep as the sea as a rose must wither, 
       As the rose-red seaweed that mocks the rose. 
Shall the dead take thought for the dead to love them? 
       What love was ever as deep as a grave? 
They are loveless now as the grass above them 
               Or the wave. 

All are at one now, roses and lovers, 
       Not known of the cliffs and the fields and the sea. 
Not a breath of the time that has been hovers 
       In the air now soft with a summer to be. 
Not a breath shall there sweeten the seasons hereafter 
       Of the flowers or the lovers that laugh now or weep, 
When as they that are free now of weeping and laughter 
               We shall sleep. 

Here death may deal not again for ever; 
       Here change may come not till all change end. 
From the graves they have made they shall rise up never, 
       Who have left nought living to ravage and rend. 
Earth, stones, and thorns of the wild ground growing, 
       While the sun and the rain live, these shall be; 
Till a last wind's breath upon all these blowing 
               Roll the sea. 

Till the slow sea rise and the sheer cliff crumble, 
       Till terrace and meadow the deep gulfs drink, 
Till the strength of the waves of the high tides humble 
       The fields that lessen, the rocks that shrink, 
Here now in his triumph where all things falter, 
       Stretched out on the spoils that his own hand spread, 
As a god self-slain on his own strange altar, 
               Death lies dead. 


 As I said in a previous blog, this makes me think of my young parents, in the 1940s, newly engaged, so young, so much in love, visiting my granny's house on the Cornish coast.  That was in the immediate post-war - bomb sites everywhere, land mines washing up on the beach, food rationing, my father a "displaced person" - and Cornwall itself was a forsaken kind of place then - wild and remote.   At least that is how I knew it in the Fifties.  The beaches were empty then.    Hard to imagine that now.  But its beauty and its sadness stays in my mind and is evoked by this poem.

I don't know where the garden was.   And don't know what Swinburne's religious beliefs were. But in the poem he seems to accept the Biblical view that the dead are "conscious of nothing at all"- and that also there will come a time when death will be no more.

Did he know of this promise in Revelation?
"With that I heard a loud voice from the throne say: “Look! The tent of God is with mankind, and he will reside with them, and they will be his people. And God himself will be with them. And he will wipe out every tear from their eyes, and death will be no more, neither will mourning nor outcry nor pain be anymore. The former things have passed away.”" - Revelation 21:3,4

Death will be no more.  The dead will be woken from their dreamless sleep of death into an earth more lovely than they imagined it could be. And I hope to see my parents then, and my granny, and my dear Aunt Jo.


This morning I shopped briefly - and visited Maggie in the afternoon. There is not a lot of her left now. But she still loves a visitor - any visitor. She doesn't know me from Adam now, though in the early days she was there we could look at the Watchtower study together. She no longer writes her diary, which is a sad landmark.    And to my amazement I met someone I knew in the lounge - an elderly lady at whose doorstep I have been calling for many years.  I couldn't quite make out why she was there, though she is perfectly compos mentis and we had a good talk.  She is hoping to be back in her home next week, so I will look out for her both there and in the nursing home the next time I visit Maggie.

I hope her stay can be a temporary one.  But I am worried it won't.  Anyway, she seemed very pleased to see me, and I got a kiss!

Tuesday 20 November 2018

Aunt Jo's Funeral

The funeral was on Friday the 16th November, at 11 a.m. at a Catholic Church in Chelsea.  It was a full mass, which I hadn't expected. It took me back to my Catholic childhood, in spite of the changes.  The mass was of course in Latin when I was young.

The priest conducting had come out of retirement to do so - and made a touchingly careful and thoughtful job of it all - assisted only by a lady in black, who seemed to do a little of what altar boys used to do.   We were a small congregation - 19 I think - but the singing was beautiful.  Someone, somewhere in the back of the church had a beautiful voice.

Those who were Catholics took communion, and I noted that Catholics still only take the bread, not the wine.  As I said it took me back, in ways that were both nostalgic and painful, to my childhood, to the times when Jo was our glamorous London aunt and my sisters and I were Catholic Convent schoolgirls.  None of us are Catholics now. 

Later when the Captain and I were young marrieds, living in London, she and Paul became our good friends.  And we kept in touch through our expat years. Jo became extra precious when my parents died- a thread connecting me to them.

Yet I can't be sad that the painful struggle with old age is over.  I already know something of how difficult it is.  Jo was always stoical and dignified and fun - the very opposite of a Snowflake.  And I'm glad there is no more struggling for her.  But its sad how you lose people, one by one.

So glad we got to the funeral though. And Jeremy and Paddy provided a splendid lunch afterwards - at a Chelsea pub only a short walk away - The Cross Keys.   We had great bar snacks/tapas, including my first taste of truffle - on a brie and truffle toast - mmmmm.  I have always wanted to try truffle. Thank you Aunt Jo, Jeremy and Paddy. It was delicious.   And I would be eating it now only our shops here don't run to truffles - much to the Captain's relief (given the price they must be).

And I met some very interesting people, including an Academic who is the Expert on the poet Swinburne. He was just off to give a talk in Paris - at the Sorbonne presumably.

I don't think that many people read Swinburne now, but one of my longtime favourite poems is one of his: "A Forsaken Garden".
https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/45287/a-forsaken-garden

The power of words to reach the heart...  this always makes me think of my young parents, in Cornwall, newly engaged... 

Oh, and on a different note, I asked if he knew of the Beachcomber parody of Swinburne's "Dolores".  He didn't!  But really liked it, and laughed and laughed.  (I could remember it as it is only 2 lines, but it means nothing unless you have read the poem.)

I asked if he would use it in his next lecture. He said he would.  I hope he will.

And I was able to give a small witness - about the reason why Jehovah's Witnesses do not take blood transfusions.

I have never been to a funeral/memorial like it before. It was exceptional, like my aunt.  And I hope so much that we will see her again, when the time comes.



Saturday 17 November 2018

Wrestling with Letter, Card and Email

Not sleeping too well... and its hard to think at the moment. But I need to write a sympathy card and letter to Aunt Jo's brother and his wife.   I want to find the right words to say as it has been a privilege to have a Jo as an honorary aunt all these years. 

We got a lovely card when we shopped in Worthing Wednesday afternoon. I had a routine hospital visit - all well, thank Goodness.     Which is unusual these days.    But now I am struggling to write the letter. I just want to say how lovely it was to have had Jo in our lives as an aunt and friend, and how much I will miss that, even though we are glad that her valiant struggle with the horrors of old age is now over.

And the card... I got a lovely one from Waitrose - but I must find the right words.

Hopefully I did as we got to the funeral in London yesterday and handed the card and letter over to Jeremy and Paddy.   My first day trip to London for some years. I hope to blog about the funeral later.

We had gone to Dorking Thursday evening to see Chris Packham - so we had a late night and  a very early start.  And it meant I missed the meeting at the Kingdom Hall. 

However, we got to the funeral.  And we are very very glad we did.



Tuesday 13 November 2018

Back to the Field

Back to the field this morning with the valiant Jean. I rang her at the usual time.  "Sue" she said hesitantly "Would you mind if we went out a little later this morning, I have had a very bad night?"

"Well" I said kindly "If that is what you need Jean, of course,...  and by the way HURRAY as I am not up to much this morning either."

Anyway, we did nearly two hours - most of it one call - tea, biscuits, and invited back. 

Then it was home to make a curry (veggie) for tomorrow and the soup for tonight.   And to get my Expense Form sorted out - for my butterfly expenses, having my wings serviced, that sort of thing.  That is such a tiresome chore, but it is done now.  The Captain lugged the new memberships to the Post Office - and also posted the 2019 Calendars - his year in the field - the more literal fields. 

And the lovely Jean rang me this evening to tell me that she was re-reading "Old Playgrounds" - and how much she loved it.  I said I would pass on her comments to the family, as it is a small selection of family poems.  Sad and funny, and I hope interesting.
https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B007FQEDUU/ref=dp-kindle-redirect?_encoding=UTF8&btkr=1

Julia emailed to say that the Thank you flowers we sent her had arrived.  (Address: The Hollowed out Oak Tree in Sherwood Forest.)  And she says she will come down for a visit - perhaps next Spring.

Hospital tomorrow - yet another routine check up - no wonder the poor old NHS is in trouble, havng to cope with me and my old age...  feel quite guilty about it.


Monday 12 November 2018

Maid Julia of Sherwood Forest

Sunday night we got back from a trip to Nottingham to attend the National AGM of Butterfly Conservation - and Julia kindly offered to put us up.  Fortunately she lives in a nice house, not a large hollowed out oak in the Forest.  So we had a very comfortable stay.   After a somewhat stressful journey up, she took us out for an Indian meal at The Himalayan.
http://www.himalayaninn.com/

The restaurant was very smart, the staff charming and efficient, and I had one of my favourites - a paneer curry, followed by Kulfi ice-cream.   They even let us take the little pot the Kulfi came in home with us. Captain B wants it for a marmalade pot - in which is homemade marmalade can be housed in state.

Thoroughly recommended - we would go there again the next time we are staying with Julia.

We got to the AGM on Saturday - the venue was The Nottingham Belfry Hotel - very organised - they did a good job.   Some of the talks were a bit too dry and graphy for me.  I really like ones with lots of pretty butterflies landing on equally pretty flowers - but possibly my tastes should not be pandered to.   Jim (Asher) got the morning's business done in an exemplary and interesting manner, and Nigel, our new National Treasurer (and Treasure) coped fine with a computer glitch that robbed him of all his slides.

And one of the Awardees was Jamie from West Sussex.  That was what gave me the incentive to get up there - along with being able to see Julia.

We had a good drive back on Sunday - through some lovely Autumn sunshine, and showers.

Today we shopped in the morning - took Jackie's shopping round to her and stopped for a coffee and a catch up.   Then we had lunch - soup, veggie - and I made a big fruit cake in case it is going to be needed at the local AGM on Saturday.  (It will come in for the sandwich lunches if not.)   And I bit the bullet and got down to the load of butterfly paperwork that arrived on Friday morning just as we  were leaving.

Six new Membership packages are now ready to go to the Post Office.

And I managed a bit of studying.  So a busy enough day - for me - these days.

Wednesday 7 November 2018

Beth, Walking

Carole and Beth at Littlehampton
We just hosted Beth:  http://bethfootforward.co.uk/

Clearly, her walk has begun, and Jon,  a Sussex Search & Rescue (http://www.sussar.org/) volunteer walked with her to us.  We provided supper - various curries, ice-cream and wine - a bed for the night, breakfast and a packed lunch.  And this morning we handed her over to Carole - another SusSAR volunteer - who will walk the next leg with her.

It was fun having her to stay, and a thank you for her help in raising funds for Lowland Rescue, along with the RNLI, which is such good causes.   We will be following her progress with interest.

Sadly though just as we were all milling about after breakfast, a phone call came from Jeremy to tell us that Aunt Jo has died.

His only sibling.  My last aunt.

Things are getting very sad.   And I will be blogging about her. 

She was our glamorous London aunt.  And she has always been there - up to now.


Jean and I got to the Field Service Group yesterday and we did have a lovely morning out together - we were given just the right amount of territory, and we made a return visit on a lady who remembered exactly what Jean had said to her about the resurrection.

Its Sylvia's Memorial at the Kingdom Hall today - and Jean just rang to ask for a lift.  So we will be going together and I will think about Aunt Jo as well as Sylvia at the service this afternoon.  Especially when the brother giving the talk reminds us of the hope we have of seeing our loved ones again.

Monday 5 November 2018

The Great Western at Corsham

We were invited to the Family and Friends opening night of The Great Western Pub at Corsham.

https://www.gazetteandherald.co.uk/news/16885689.works-starts-on-the-great-western-pub-refurbishment/

Mike and Kim the new landlords are friends from our Saudi years.  We spent our last night in the Middle East with them.  They drove us over the Causeway to Bahrain and treated us to a wonderful meal at Senor Pacos.  They also coped with the moment on the Causeway when the guy in charge refused to accept our Exit Only Visa - which seemed to leave us in No-Man's land - pretty much having left Saudi, but not having left enough to enable to us to drive the next few yards that would let us enter Bahrain.

It was lovely to see them again - 10 years later!  They don't seem to have changed at all. They were in a frenzy of preparation - complete refurbishment - workmen still drilling in one of the rooms - but it was all looking very good.  It felt great as soon as we stepped inside- a log fire was burning - it has the cosy feel of a good local.  And the darts team was already playing in the back room. 

They put on a lovely buffet - and we met the chef - a lady with spiky hair, tattoos, and great cooking skills.

So we hope its going to be a real success.   It will be hard work, but well worthwhile. We hope to call in for lunch when things have calmed down a bit.

And if you find yourself in Corsham, please pop in, have lunch, and say hello to Mike and Kim for us.  And to the two friendly dogs, who were so excited to have a pubful of people to rush about at.
.
Back to our routine now.  Jean and I had a morning on the door to door work on Saturday. It was such an effort to get ourselves out, and we did not make it to the Field Service Group.  But we were so glad we did go.  One of Jean's regular calls - a Methodist lady - told us that she appreciated the mags so much she was sharing them with her group.

It was worth going out to hear that alone.

And I drove us (myself and a young sibling) to the meeting at the Kingdom Hall Sunday morning - the Captain having left early with Metal Detector and sandwiches.  No hoards of treasure to report but I think he enjoyed it all.

It keeps him off the streets - and in the fields.


Tuesday 30 October 2018

The Man in the Shed

"More sandwiches" commanded The Captain sternly, interrupting my morning phone chat with Jacks.

A sandwich emergency!     I was puzzled as I had already sent him off on his latest Fungi Hunt with sandwiches plus an extra cake for Butterfly Mark.

"There is a man in our shed, and he needs breakfast!"

Apparently some homeless chap had spent Sunday night in our dustbin shed...   and it was a cold night too.   Now our shed is reasonably clean and upmarket as such things go - it is designed to look like the garages and there is just about room for one person to lie down.  But, how worrying it is that someone has had to sleep there.

He was moving on apparently, but I made him up a lunch box - cake, fruit and sandwiches. And Col gave him a warm coat.  I have been longing to have a coat and jacket clear out, so maybe this homeless chap has helped to get us started.

I knocked at the shed door at lunchtime, but there was no-one there. I was going to offer him some lunch.  Why he was homeless I do not know.  Many who are have come through our "Care" system so may never even have known what a home is.

Its an insane world system we live in.   And a cruel one.

I was out with my siblings this morning going door to door with our Bibles and Watchtowers, telling all who will listen what the Bible has to say about this - and to assure them that things will not be going on this way.  Soon God's will WILL be done on the earth.  And Jehovah's foremost quality is love.

Monday morning, I took Jackie's prescription to the Clinic for her and took the opportunity to get the mystifying form for my upcoming diabetes course filled out.  It seemed to mystify them too, but some medical figures have now been entered in various boxes and, hopefully, they will have to do.

Our imperfection - the imperfection we are born with - makes getting older a painful business.  Otherwise getting older would be wonderful- learning all the time, appreciating the beauty of the world more and more... learning to love each other more and more.

And we will be so happy when God's will is done on the earth.  Already we can find much happiness through the teaching in the Christian congregation and in the loving and orderly way it is organised.

There is no teaching like it on the earth.  And it is a small taste of wonderful things to come.


Sunday 28 October 2018

Poems in The Spectator - and Bonfires

Littlehampton bonfire night - boat burning
As a long time Spectator subscriber, I loved the poems they published in the magazine.   Then they stopped. And I think many of us wrote in to ask for the poems back.

And back they came. But somehow, for me, the magic had gone.  I am sure the poems were all good ones, but just not on my wavelength anymore.  Perhaps the Poetry Editor had changed?

Anyway, I was delighted to find these two wonderful poems in my current Speccie.

Going Home
Folk Festival

Closing her last set
She sings of going home
While couples rise up
From the bales they share
To fold into each other's arms
Already spirited
Across love's threshold,

Then later as I step
Alone into our house
I think of us as the song
Must have me do
On this dusky, scented
Summer night
That still belongs to you.

        John Mole



The Shadow

As the sun to the moon,
So is a parent to a favoured child,
Bestowing a concentrated bounty:
But such a child - like the moon -
Has a cold and dark side.

        Tim Hopkins



Hurray for The Speccie and for Tim Hopkins and John Mole.   Maybe they are back on my wavelength, or maybe my wavelength has changed?  Either way, I really enjoyed them, and will add them to my poetry pantheon.

Yesterday was bonfire night - the BIG bonfire was lit on The Green - its  still smouldering now, and as the sun sets I expect to see it still glowing orange - and they had the procession and the fireworks.  Jacks came over to join us but, here is another of the sad "firsts" on the slippery slope, for the first time we didn't make it through to the end of the fireworks. We had to hobble back indoors so we could sit down.

Still, it was  a good evening - veggie lasagne with salad, ice-cream and a cheese plate - and our usual NZ Marlborough wine. All those Marlboroughs are so good.

It was the meeting this morning and then I crashed out in front of the telly. Captain Butterfly is just back from a day's Treasure Hunting, so I will have to go and get him some supper in a minute.  (What is left of last nights - via the microwave).
porcupine sceat, Early Anglo-Saxon England, continental phase. 695-740 AD. AR Sceat, Series E, variety G1

No Treasure today, but he did find a sceat this week which will be appearing on his blog in due time I expect.

Friday 26 October 2018

A Glass of Blessings

Finished my re-read of "A Glass of Blessings" (Barbara Pym) yesterday.  Loved it even more the second time. 

Could it end up being my favourite Pym?   I will have to settle for it being one of  my favourites, as its impossible to pick a favourite between Glass and "Excellent Women" and "Quartet in Autumn", and "Some Tame Gazelle" (which is surely the funniest).

Wilmet - spoiler alert - gets everything wonderfully wrong throughout. And the world Barbara Pym is writing about is the world I was born into - the world that lingered on into the 1950s.  I feel at home in her world.  And she is so funny.

Anyway, to get to my dazzling diary - my partner for field service on Thursday cancelled, so I decided not to go to the group but to do a call - long overdue - to a very nice lady my age, who lives within walking distance. We had a good talk and I hope to continue it next week.  My excuse for calling will be to deliver a copy of the new magazine.

She really seems to appreciate them.

She has been a churchgoer all her life, but seems to know as little about what the Bible says as I did before I talked to the two Jehovah's Witnesses who called.

I must pray about this.  I need to find the right brother or sister to go along with me.

I can't think what I did in the afternoon. Finished my study for the meeting and lay on the sofa dozing in front of the telly - trying to rest my horribly swollen legs. 

This morning we shopped - for us and for Jacks - delivered her shopping and had a coffee and a chat. She is feeling no better, no worse.

And we had a chat with Bea of the North on the phone. The Bavarian branch of the family has just left after a short visit.  They did a tour of the local brewery - and were amazed and I'm sure pleased to find out that the machinery came from Friesing, their local town. 

So my blog returns to a glassy note, where it began, and to a literary note, as I too have had a novel published.  And my latest reader just told me she loved it, really loved it!   Which is what every author wants to hear, that  they have written a book that people enjoy reading.  And I had better be honest and say that her husband found it a bit slow going but did like the second half when it became more incident packed.

https://www.fantasticbooksstore.com/waiting-for-gordo-all-formats.html

Wednesday 24 October 2018

The Arun Octopus

On Monday,Col and I went for a walk along the seafront. It is such a lovely Autumn.  He took some  photos, including (at my request) our octopus.
River Arun
Oyster Pond
And on Tuesday we spent the day in Chichester.  We went to the Pallant Gallery to see the Julian Trevelyan Exhibition - well worth a visit - I love his pictures of the Potteries, and the smoke-filled cities of my Northern childhood - and also the later ones he did of the Thames.

One of my many favourites was of the harbour at Whitehaven.  I sat (have to stop and sit a lot these days) and looked at it for a long time, thinking of an old friend whose home town it was.  Diana died almost 15 years ago. Is she sleeping safe  in "the everlasting arms"?  And will she see this lovely earth again, when the time comes for the resurrection?

And, if so, will the Captain and his Mrs be there?


Then we tried a new health food restaurant - Luckes - for lunch - salad and a Brie tartlet for me - and salad and an egg thingummy (I forget its name) for the Captain.  And I had a Vitality drink - beetroot, orange, apple and ginger - interesting and bursting with healthiness. Except at the same time being bad for my diabetes...  oh well.

Then we shopped, and I found loads of books. I am re-visiting all the early Ruth Rendells.  And I bought a copy of "The Day that Went Missing" by Richard Beard.

Oh Oh Oh. I bought it and read it on the same day. Could not put it down. I want to write to the author and tell him how compelling it was.
https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B01I0RU17G/ref=dp-kindle-redirect?_encoding=UTF8&btkr=1

Now I have started on a  re-reading of Barbara Pym's "A Glass of Blessings", and must hold myself back from cramming it all down in one day.  I have shopping to do - for us and for Jackie - then Maggie to be visited and Jean to chauffeur - and then I am going out with one of the young pioneers, on the door to door preaching work.

Saturday 20 October 2018

An Interesting and Fascinating Blogpost (and Gerda Charles)

At least it will be interesting and fascinating if I can find anything interesting and fascinating to put in it.  My life is full of interest to me - but would it be to anyone else?

I will let Gerda Charles speak for me at the end.

And hello Julia if you are catching up - blogwise. And thanks so much for the offer of putting us up during the AGM..  Look forward very much to seeing you all.

Yesterday I was out and about with my siblings, trying to tell all who will listen about the Kingdom of God - and we all met up for a coffee break mid morning.   We had an interesting talk with a couple who are members of a small Protestant church that would I think see itself as Bible fundamentalist.

Yet we could not reason with them from the Bible itself.   They seemed shocked when we said that, no, we are not expecting to go to heaven, but are hoping to "inherit the earth" as Jesus promised, and to live for ever upon it.

"In YOUR translation" they said with a certain scorn.  We pointed out gently that we hadn't come across any Bible translation (and we use many) that translated those famous words from the Sermon on the Mount any differently. And when Jesus said that the meek would inherit "the earth" he was confirming the promises in the Hebrew Scriptures.

For example, Psalm 37:11 says:  "But the meek will possess the earth, And they will find exquisite delight in the abundance of peace"

They will possess the earth,, not heaven.   And it will be an earth truly at peace.

And verse 29 of the same Psalm says simply:  "The righteous will possess the earth, And they will live forever on it. "

But as we tried, gently to point that out, they changed from "in YOUR translation" to "in YOUR interpretation".

Now, I can't see that those words are open to any other interpretation. But we left it there. Someone else will call in time, and maybe they will find the right words.

Captain B and I shopped yesterday, and popped Jackie's shopping in to her, stopping for coffee and choccie biccies (well just coffee for me) and a chat.   Then home for lunch - remains of yesterday's soup - after which the Captain went off to Petworth House, and I made a carrot cake, did the ironing and some much needed housework.  And got us something for supper - steak and ale pie for him, veggie pasta for me.

Re interesting and fascinating... I am a long time fan of the writer Gerda Charles.  She did win at least one big literary prize, but seems to have been forgotten now.  But she could write, so might she be in for a revival?

Her book  "The True Voice' ends like this:

"I saw my bus coming in the distance. I smiled at the baby.  A light-hearted happiness filled me. There had been the caterpillar, Colin, his father, the Chinese baby; I was going to tea with Miss Hallam.  Feathers... feathers...  But they were enough.  I had too delicate a digestion for richer joys.

It was only four o'clock and the sun was still bright, but a blue haze was spreading across the distance, a faint sparkle of cold touched the air.  Tomorrow would be the autumnal equinox, the beginning of Autumn; my season.  For some, the spring or summer of their lives is their time, their tender springs most beautiful or their summers most glorious.  But for me, my spirit's time was autumn.  Tomorrow it would be autumn.  The bus came up and I got on and drove towards the west.  'In heaven' says John Donne, 'it is always autumn'."

She too finds such joy and interest in the ordinary things of life.   And there too, I guess, is the idea of going to heaven when we die.  Which is all tied up with the idea of a separate immortal soul.   The Bible says something different, something wonderful.  Please ask the next Jehovah's Witness who calls, if you want to know, and please have a copy of the Bible to hand, so you can check everything we tell you against the touchstone of God's word.

Any translation is fine, but preferably a modern translation, as English is very much a living language. And no need for interpretations. The Bible interprets itself.

I want to have unnumbered Autumns in the restored earthly Paradise. I hope we all will - including, of course, Gerda Charles.





Tuesday 16 October 2018

Supper with Miss Jackie

Jacks came Saturday night - we had lamb shank, mashed potatoes, carrots and broccoli - followed by ice-cream and some chocolates we had saved from Jon and Linda's wedding.    A great evening - almost like old times - though Jacks and me are in no way what we were.

Saturday I was out with the Kingdom Hall group, working with one of my brothers on a housing estate so new I didn't even know it was there.   We had a great morning and I placed some literature, but will I find my way back - bearing in mind that I am the sort of person who needs a map to find her way to her own front door?

And today I am rather zombified.  We - the Arundel 3, Terry, the Captain and me - went to a talk on Indonesia in Arundel - a great talk, one of the best ever - but when we got back Col had a SUSSAR callout to help search for a dementia patient who had gone missing.   I made him some sandwiches and off he went, into the West Sussex wilderness.  It was a dark and foggy night.  And I lay awake and worried.

The older I get, the more fragile everything seems.

The lost guy - or misper, to use the technical term - was found wandering around a field calling for help - so glad that help arrived - and thanks to all searchers, police and civilians who turned out until the early hours.    Col got back about 3 a.m. so I was able to get to sleep, but I feel exhausted this morning.   Jean and I did manage to get to the Field Service Group at the Hall, but it was a bit of a scramble on my part.

And hello Bob of the North (of Thailand), in case you have dropped by.  I see you and Captain Butterfly have been talking on facebook about attending a reunion. And Col mentioned my blog.  Hope you are all well and enjoying your retirement.

Friday 12 October 2018

Are you Banksy?

I asked Captain Butterfly the question as we watched the news about the mysterious artist Banksy - and the way he built a shredder into one of his paintings which was activated (in a way as mysterious as himself) the moment it was sold at Sothebys for a trillion dollars, or some such.

We both take his point about the Art World - and the obscene amounts of money involved - but at the same time note that Banksy has also upped the value of his artwork yet again.

Hence my hopeful question.  Could the mysterious Captain B be the mysterious artist Banksy?!!!

No.   He isn't.   Pity, as some of that money would have been nice.
https://www.standard.co.uk/news/world/buyer-of-banksy-piece-that-shredded-moments-after-it-was-sold-for-over-1m-at-sothebys-auction-will-a3959896.html

Still, I wasn't very hopeful as I don't see how he would find the time to go around building shredders into paintings, let alone do any paintings in the first place.  He has been on SUSSAR callouts, SUSSAR training, Detectorists Meets, Butterfly business etc etc.  But hopefully he is at home today.  He is making the breakfast as I speak

If he brings through SHREDDED Wheat, dare I hope that some Banksyan money is going to come our way?

Well, it was the usual oats and fruit, so I guess not. Lovely brekkie though - the Captain makes the best coffee.

Tuesday Jean and I managed to get to the Field Service Group, do some first calls and some return visits.  Wednesday was a hospital day - at Bognor.  And Thursday was a GP day.  I asked Dr.M (perhaps I should call him Doc Martin) if it was OK to go on using the strong steroid cream.   "Ok" was his answer "It can be damaging to the skin,  But we won't worry. If you were 7 we would, but as you are 70..."

Indeed.  My skin doesn't have to last all that much longer either way let's face it.

Though I am hoping to "inherit the earth", and live forever upon it in, but in a renewed, perfect, living body.  Not in this old worn out and dying one.   And the meeting last night was full of comfort - well worth driving through the rain for.


Monday 8 October 2018

Cornering Horses (and Highdown Gardens)

Birch-bark Tree (Tibetan Cherry), Prunus serrula
We went to Highdown Gardens on Friday afternoon, and there were dragonflies on the pond. And a robin sitting on a waterlily leaf.  Very charming.  Very Beatrix Potter..
Southern Hawker male, Aeshna cyanea
A Dragonfly alone seems a splendid argument for creation.  It is more exquisite than the finest Tiffany jewel - and with engineering superior to the latest warplane.   Its beauty and complexity  tell us that it has a Grand Creator.  But to know who the Creator is, we need to study the Inspired Scriptures.
Robin on a lily
And given the predatory nature of the Dragonfly (and I would not care to meet one down a dark alley) we need to read the Bible so we can understand that Jehovah did not make nature "red in tooth and claw", and that He will not leave it this way.

The Autumn sunlight was so beautiful.   We shopped in the morning, and I also did my studying for the Sunday meeting.     Jean and I had a good morning out on the field service on Saturday.  We were neither of us feeling good - especially Jean. But we encouraged each other - and most importantly prayed about it - and out we went.

It cheered us both up.   When I got back I found that a batch of 24 new Butterfly memberships had flown through the letterbox. I gritted my teeth and got them all done - ready to be posted on Monday.

Bea of the North had a long phone chat with Col, which I missed as I was catching up with Vanity Fair and sobbing over the episode where they all go off to war, so confident in their scarlet coats, to face horror.   Spoiler Alert!   Becky is soon going to corner every horse in Brussels and make a fortune from those desperate to escape the approaching armies - while Amelia will soon be praying for the safety of her husband, who is lying dead on the battlefield with a bullet through his heart.

After the meeting today, I had a long chat with a Bible student who comes nearly every Sunday. He is not young, and I can see him drinking the teaching in.  Apparently he said at his last study how much time he had wasted.   And I too wish that I had listened to Jehovah's Witnesses long before I did.

But I hope we will both be so grateful that we did listen - always.

Poor Captain B has had car troubles so we will be using my car until his is out of Car Hospital.