I have never done a funeral before at St Just dressed still for Christmas with its tree decorations and the iron sconces in place for the Candlelit carol service. Walking to the church was magical. The tide was in and the graveyard full of greenery with great fat buds on the camelias, just waiting for the sun before bursting into life again.
It is much the same as when I first saw it 4o years ago, indeed much the same as when the first church was planted there in medieval times. The peace and sense of awe remains.
Today we said our good byes to a quite remarkable woman who at 97 was still running the Women's Institute as she had for the last 30 years. There was a good turn out, much amused by her instructions to her children that they were not under any circumstances to sing Jerusalem!
She now rests in the grave with her husband. They are next to a small pond where the mallards rear their young and the king cups glow. This poem by Minnie Haskins seemed particularly appropriate for a New Years Eve funeral.
I said the man who stood at the gate of the year
Give me a light that I may tread safely into the unknown
And he replied, Go into the darkness and put your hand into the hand of God
That shall be to you better than light and safer than a known way.
So I went forth and finding the Hand of God
Trod gladly into the night
He led me towards the hills
And the breaking of day in the lone east
So heart be still
What need our human life to know
If God hath comprehension?
In all the dizzy strife of human things
Both high and low
God hideth his intention.
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Friday, 31 December 2010
Thursday, 30 December 2010
Old ladies and birth
All this talk about babies has reminded me of what happened when I announced my engagement. The bishop, bless him asked me in the middle of a crowded room if I was pregnant.
"No of course not " I said indignantly.
"Ah but how do you know your not pregnant?". Short pause whilst ears strained all round the room.
"Because it's quite hard to do without a womb"
He was not out done. "Remember Sarah" he said.
She of course got pregnant well into old age. But she still had a womb!
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"No of course not " I said indignantly.
"Ah but how do you know your not pregnant?". Short pause whilst ears strained all round the room.
"Because it's quite hard to do without a womb"
He was not out done. "Remember Sarah" he said.
She of course got pregnant well into old age. But she still had a womb!
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Birth and death and a cat.
I am reminded of our frailty and yet our amazing strengths today. David's grandson's wife is having her first baby today. Gone are the days of waiting to see when nature will take its course. This birth was booked a fair while ago. We have all known its gender too so we can be sure of getting the right colour. The boy is due to be born this afternoon by Cesarean section. To be fair it was going to be a breech delivery but the surgical operation had been talked of before the baby turned!
This morning I did the funeral of an 87 year old man. They had had no children and his wife is the same age as her husband. They had both been civil servants and moved to St Mawes to retire . There were no living relations. They had all died off and yet the courage of the widow was extraordinary. She had visited him every day since he had his serious stroke and said,
" He would not have wanted a eulogy...he didn't go in for that sort of thing." She allowed me then to talk about him a bit, his war experience and how he had learned how to sail.
Both ends of the human spectrum. We are born, live and then we die. The cyclical inevitability of it all is very evident right now.
And then there was the cat. A handsome black and white cat sat on the doorstep of the crematorium with me as I waited for the car bringing the coffin. As it drew close the cat turned round and ran into the inner most sanctum. I asked if he was allowed to go in there.
The young man in charge turned with a grin.
"He lives here. Its nice and warm for him"
All creatures great and small. You know the rest.
This morning I did the funeral of an 87 year old man. They had had no children and his wife is the same age as her husband. They had both been civil servants and moved to St Mawes to retire . There were no living relations. They had all died off and yet the courage of the widow was extraordinary. She had visited him every day since he had his serious stroke and said,
" He would not have wanted a eulogy...he didn't go in for that sort of thing." She allowed me then to talk about him a bit, his war experience and how he had learned how to sail.
Both ends of the human spectrum. We are born, live and then we die. The cyclical inevitability of it all is very evident right now.
And then there was the cat. A handsome black and white cat sat on the doorstep of the crematorium with me as I waited for the car bringing the coffin. As it drew close the cat turned round and ran into the inner most sanctum. I asked if he was allowed to go in there.
The young man in charge turned with a grin.
"He lives here. Its nice and warm for him"
All creatures great and small. You know the rest.
Wednesday, 29 December 2010
Picture
Rhiannon. Before lunch
I did try to get this with the previous blog but failed.
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I did try to get this with the previous blog but failed.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone
Tuesday, 28 December 2010
Lancashire Eulogy
Ive just finished writing the latest Eulogy. It was very hard to write because the widow didn't actually want a eulogy as such.
"He wouldn't have wanted that" she said, "They are always such shallow things, full of lies." So that got me started yet again on the subject.
If they are full of lies then that is a great shame. Surely the person has not yet been born that you can't find lots of good things to say about them. Erm well one or two exceptions I suppose.
I do know people who have written their own eulogies, in fact I suspect that my husband is one of them. People here don't really know much about what he did before he got to Cornwall so some might just be rather surprised! I do know that his sons have asked him to write down all the details of his early life and I have been startled to find him doing just that! I really hope it's not intimations of mortality just yet!
The widow today was quiet and gentle and had been a civil servant for the whole of her adult life. So had he. They had no children and in their 80's no living relations at all.
She was relieved to find that I was a fellow Lancastrian and asked very diffidently whether I would mind doing it in a Lancashire accent!
"He would love that" she said. So Lancashire accent it is. At one funeral the mother of the local plumber had been a Liverpudlian so I attempted a rather poor accent at one point at which the entire family burst into a round of applause.
"You got our mam to a tee" said the young man when he came round to fix a pipe burst. "We still talk about it. She would have loved it.!"
So that's really what it should be about....Getting them to a tee. I can only try, accent or no accent!
"He wouldn't have wanted that" she said, "They are always such shallow things, full of lies." So that got me started yet again on the subject.
If they are full of lies then that is a great shame. Surely the person has not yet been born that you can't find lots of good things to say about them. Erm well one or two exceptions I suppose.
I do know people who have written their own eulogies, in fact I suspect that my husband is one of them. People here don't really know much about what he did before he got to Cornwall so some might just be rather surprised! I do know that his sons have asked him to write down all the details of his early life and I have been startled to find him doing just that! I really hope it's not intimations of mortality just yet!
The widow today was quiet and gentle and had been a civil servant for the whole of her adult life. So had he. They had no children and in their 80's no living relations at all.
She was relieved to find that I was a fellow Lancastrian and asked very diffidently whether I would mind doing it in a Lancashire accent!
"He would love that" she said. So Lancashire accent it is. At one funeral the mother of the local plumber had been a Liverpudlian so I attempted a rather poor accent at one point at which the entire family burst into a round of applause.
"You got our mam to a tee" said the young man when he came round to fix a pipe burst. "We still talk about it. She would have loved it.!"
So that's really what it should be about....Getting them to a tee. I can only try, accent or no accent!
Monday, 27 December 2010
Death'
In this week between Christmas and the New Year the tradition has it that clergy have a week off. This is fair enough. The weeks before Christmas are full of services, visits, carols, etc and we get tired like everyone else. One of us has to work to cover emergencies and as I am going away next week then it had to me and this is not a complaint! I first got left in charge of an entire group of parishes whilst I was still a deacon. That was one of the first times that the actual nature of the job dawned on me.
There is always the chance that someone will die but this year we are inundated. I have two funerals this week. I should have had four but I got a priest from the next parish along to help out. The old people's home that I used to live near, has provided me with the two I will do and and do them gladly.
The next one I was asked to do was of a lady I knew tolerably well. Her friend died last year and she was a drinker and on her own there was nothing to stop her, so she fell down the stairs with the door open on a freezing night and was unable to move so she froze to death.
The next one was a man I knew better than most. I looked after him for years, stayed at his flat before I moved here and nursed him through several illnesses along the way. He had gone into a nursing home a couple of days before Christmas and died very suddenly last night.
We were all informed this morning and could I do the funeral please. Well no and I am glad that I had a reasonable excuse to offer to his family. I shall be out of the country.
There are at least two other deaths that I know of and possibly more. I'm not sure its the freezing weather that hastened their end or just that their time was up.
We in the trade develop a weird sense of humour about such matters. There is a hill not far from the doctors, referred to as God's waiting room...because its where people move to when they are not fit or young any more.
I am genuinely sad for all of them, no less for the folk I did not know as the people I did know.
But we are all going in that direction , some faster than others. Nature is cyclical, Outside my trees look extremely dead but they are not. When we get old we are replaced, but I believe with all my heart that the oneness that is ourselves, our soul, our spark of divinity goes on somewhere , somehow.
So I can apologise to the two I know, whose funerals I am not free to take in the knowledge that they will know as I light candles to take their souls to heaven that I am thinking about them and will still be on the days of their funeral. May they rise in glory and rest in peace.
There is always the chance that someone will die but this year we are inundated. I have two funerals this week. I should have had four but I got a priest from the next parish along to help out. The old people's home that I used to live near, has provided me with the two I will do and and do them gladly.
The next one I was asked to do was of a lady I knew tolerably well. Her friend died last year and she was a drinker and on her own there was nothing to stop her, so she fell down the stairs with the door open on a freezing night and was unable to move so she froze to death.
The next one was a man I knew better than most. I looked after him for years, stayed at his flat before I moved here and nursed him through several illnesses along the way. He had gone into a nursing home a couple of days before Christmas and died very suddenly last night.
We were all informed this morning and could I do the funeral please. Well no and I am glad that I had a reasonable excuse to offer to his family. I shall be out of the country.
There are at least two other deaths that I know of and possibly more. I'm not sure its the freezing weather that hastened their end or just that their time was up.
We in the trade develop a weird sense of humour about such matters. There is a hill not far from the doctors, referred to as God's waiting room...because its where people move to when they are not fit or young any more.
I am genuinely sad for all of them, no less for the folk I did not know as the people I did know.
But we are all going in that direction , some faster than others. Nature is cyclical, Outside my trees look extremely dead but they are not. When we get old we are replaced, but I believe with all my heart that the oneness that is ourselves, our soul, our spark of divinity goes on somewhere , somehow.
So I can apologise to the two I know, whose funerals I am not free to take in the knowledge that they will know as I light candles to take their souls to heaven that I am thinking about them and will still be on the days of their funeral. May they rise in glory and rest in peace.
Sunday, 26 December 2010
Christmas magic.
Yesterday, Christmas day was full of unexpected gifts. Quite apart from the proper presents which were wonderful and beautiful there were several moments of magic which made it a Christmas to remember. My husband and I were going to different churches. His was close at hand, mine was several miles away through narrow icy lanes. He went out to start his car and then came back to tell me how bad it was outside and that I should set off in plenty of time.
I went out to clear the ice from the windscreen to find that he'd done it for me. It was a small thing but it meant a lot.
So I got to church fairly early and helped to set it up. The church yard was magical in itself and the sound of the organ as I walked up the longish path was reassuring. Our organist there only knows six carols but they were all perfect.
Two minutes before the start there were just three of us there.It was not looking good so we waited. Our faith was then justified in a most unexpected way......families poured in. Children appeared and it really was some sort of miracle. Beaming rosy faces full of the joy of Christmas took up their positions in the pews.
Who ever would have guessed ?
We sang our carols. I scrapped the sermon and talked to the children about presents and the large one lying in the manger.
They all came up the altar rail for blessings.
Gosh I was a happy woman.
We went to one of our local hotels for lunch. I am not an alchemist..I can not conjure good food on Christmas day any more.
The food was excellent and I knew almost everyone in the room.
Then in walked an old friend I havn't seen for years! We used to walk our dogs together!
It was a wonderful Christmas dinner and then we went home to sleep. It was dark when we woke up but full of gratitude and joy. I will cook our duck today and we will see some of our kids. No church today.
Thank you God.
I went out to clear the ice from the windscreen to find that he'd done it for me. It was a small thing but it meant a lot.
So I got to church fairly early and helped to set it up. The church yard was magical in itself and the sound of the organ as I walked up the longish path was reassuring. Our organist there only knows six carols but they were all perfect.
Two minutes before the start there were just three of us there.It was not looking good so we waited. Our faith was then justified in a most unexpected way......families poured in. Children appeared and it really was some sort of miracle. Beaming rosy faces full of the joy of Christmas took up their positions in the pews.
Who ever would have guessed ?
We sang our carols. I scrapped the sermon and talked to the children about presents and the large one lying in the manger.
They all came up the altar rail for blessings.
Gosh I was a happy woman.
We went to one of our local hotels for lunch. I am not an alchemist..I can not conjure good food on Christmas day any more.
The food was excellent and I knew almost everyone in the room.
Then in walked an old friend I havn't seen for years! We used to walk our dogs together!
It was a wonderful Christmas dinner and then we went home to sleep. It was dark when we woke up but full of gratitude and joy. I will cook our duck today and we will see some of our kids. No church today.
Thank you God.
Saturday, 25 December 2010
Christmas nasty!
This morning I am off to Philleigh which is a very rural parish up tiny country lanes. The church is very beautiful and right next to the pub which is convenient in many ways. The last time I did the Christmas morning mass was couple of years ago. We set off early because apart from me no knew what was needed for a Christmas morning communion.
On arrival we found one man on his own looking harassed. I helped set up the altar and he got out the wine and the bread. Philleigh do not have wafers. The bread is in fact a loaf.
Before the service started I broke up the bread into four large pieces, not sure who would turn up.
As it happened quite a lot of people were there so at the appropriate moment I started to break one large piece into several small pieces. There in the middle of the bread was a wood louse. And it was alive.
I dropped it onto the flour and then discarded the bread praying the rest of it would be louse free. The only person who had seen any of this was my husband.
"What on earth was that all about ?" he asked afterwards so I told him about the wood louse.
"Well " he said happily, "It could have been worse. If you'd already consecrated it you'd have had to eat it!"
Who knows what this morning will bring? If it's a wood louse Lord please not still alive!
On arrival we found one man on his own looking harassed. I helped set up the altar and he got out the wine and the bread. Philleigh do not have wafers. The bread is in fact a loaf.
Before the service started I broke up the bread into four large pieces, not sure who would turn up.
As it happened quite a lot of people were there so at the appropriate moment I started to break one large piece into several small pieces. There in the middle of the bread was a wood louse. And it was alive.
I dropped it onto the flour and then discarded the bread praying the rest of it would be louse free. The only person who had seen any of this was my husband.
"What on earth was that all about ?" he asked afterwards so I told him about the wood louse.
"Well " he said happily, "It could have been worse. If you'd already consecrated it you'd have had to eat it!"
Who knows what this morning will bring? If it's a wood louse Lord please not still alive!
Location:Truro,United Kingdom
Friday, 24 December 2010
Donkey Poem
Last one I promise.
What the Donkey saw.
No room in the inn, of course
And not that much in the stable
What with the shepherds, Magi, Mary
Joseph, the heavenly host-
Not to mention the baby
Using our manger as a cot
You couldn't have squeezed another cherub in
For love nor money.
Still in spite of the over crowding
I did my best to make them feel wanted.
I could see the baby and I
Would be going places together.
By UA Fanthorpe
What the Donkey saw.
No room in the inn, of course
And not that much in the stable
What with the shepherds, Magi, Mary
Joseph, the heavenly host-
Not to mention the baby
Using our manger as a cot
You couldn't have squeezed another cherub in
For love nor money.
Still in spite of the over crowding
I did my best to make them feel wanted.
I could see the baby and I
Would be going places together.
By UA Fanthorpe
Cat in the Manger
Another one by UA Fanthorpe
In the story, I'm not there
Ox and ass, arranged at prayer
But me? Nowhere
Anti-cat evangelists
How on earth could you have missed
Such an obvious and able
Occupant of any stable
Who excluded mouse and rat?
The harmless necessary cat
Who snuggled in with the holy pair?
Me. And my purr
Matthew, Mark and Luke and John
(Who got it wrong
Who left out the cat
Remember that
Wherever He went in this great affair
I was there.
Our cat says "Quite right" Purrrrr
In the story, I'm not there
Ox and ass, arranged at prayer
But me? Nowhere
Anti-cat evangelists
How on earth could you have missed
Such an obvious and able
Occupant of any stable
Who excluded mouse and rat?
The harmless necessary cat
Who snuggled in with the holy pair?
Me. And my purr
Matthew, Mark and Luke and John
(Who got it wrong
Who left out the cat
Remember that
Wherever He went in this great affair
I was there.
Our cat says "Quite right" Purrrrr
Christmas poem
There is so much to do today....starting with a funeral visit early that I am going to put one of my favourite poems by U A Fanthorpe here. It's a reminder of what really happened at Christmas.
The Sheep dog
After the very bright light
And the talking bird
And the singing
And the sky filled up wi' wings
And then the silence
Our lads sez
"We'd better go, then
Stay Shep. Good dog stay"
So I stayed wi' t sheep
After they cum back
It sounded grand, what they'd seen
Camels, and kings, and such,
Wi presents - human sort
Not the kind you eat
And a baby. Presents were for Him
Our lads took Him a lamb
I had to stay behind wi' sheep
Pity they didn't tek me along too
I'm good wi sheep
And the baby might have liked a dog
After all that myrrh and such.
It should be read with a northern accent of course!
Thursday, 23 December 2010
Bright Kid on a boat.
Every year at Christmas the big boats start to arrive and they moor on our side of the estuary to avoid the mooring fees in Falmouth. Huge boats have now started to appear looking as though they are just at the end of the garden. They are about a hundred yards away I suppose.
I play Backgammon on line and meet some interesting people. About 3 years ago I played someone whose screen name was Brightkid. And he was, beat me fairly regularly and started to chat.
It appeared that he lived on a boat that carried stuff around the Med and other places but every year they moored up for the holiday. He was, he said 10 years old.
Every time we played he told me more about himself. He was autistic and his father did not trust the education system enough to let them have his son. He had lots of books on the ship and had lessons every day.
As we got closer to Christmas he was not on line as often. They were, he explained looking for a good place to moor up for a while.
"Do you know St Mawes?" he asked me one day. Yes I did.
WE chatted on and off for a couple of days before he told me where they were.....just at the bottom of the garden. I tested it....told him where the house was and then turned the lights on and off. Sure enough he saw it.
Then it all went very quiet. He came on once not wanting to play but to tell me that his father had found out. He was not supposed to talk to people on line and please to not tell people.
So of course I didn't. But the next day the boat had moved.
But every year I wonder....is the bright kid on one of the boats now waiting for Christmas?
Was the father worried that I was going to blow the whistle?
I wouldn't. I had far too much respect for the view that a child needs parents and that a bright child would find an education where ever he was.
So now when I look out and see the big boats out there I really do wonder. Is he back this year?
I would like to think that he will be and ready to play Backgammon again.
I play Backgammon on line and meet some interesting people. About 3 years ago I played someone whose screen name was Brightkid. And he was, beat me fairly regularly and started to chat.
It appeared that he lived on a boat that carried stuff around the Med and other places but every year they moored up for the holiday. He was, he said 10 years old.
Every time we played he told me more about himself. He was autistic and his father did not trust the education system enough to let them have his son. He had lots of books on the ship and had lessons every day.
As we got closer to Christmas he was not on line as often. They were, he explained looking for a good place to moor up for a while.
"Do you know St Mawes?" he asked me one day. Yes I did.
WE chatted on and off for a couple of days before he told me where they were.....just at the bottom of the garden. I tested it....told him where the house was and then turned the lights on and off. Sure enough he saw it.
Then it all went very quiet. He came on once not wanting to play but to tell me that his father had found out. He was not supposed to talk to people on line and please to not tell people.
So of course I didn't. But the next day the boat had moved.
But every year I wonder....is the bright kid on one of the boats now waiting for Christmas?
Was the father worried that I was going to blow the whistle?
I wouldn't. I had far too much respect for the view that a child needs parents and that a bright child would find an education where ever he was.
So now when I look out and see the big boats out there I really do wonder. Is he back this year?
I would like to think that he will be and ready to play Backgammon again.
Location:Truro,United Kingdom
Wednesday, 22 December 2010
Four Christmas dinners!
We are going off our for drinks in a moment. This is what they do in this village. In my last village they fed you. On the first year after being ordained I did the ten am at the small church which was filled to capacity. I had promised an old lady who was housebound that I would take her communion after church. I got there at 11.30 to find a complete Christmas dinner waiting for me.
"We are both widows " she said, "I thought we could keep each other company"
I had arranged to go to a friend's at lunch time but the bright little face presenting me with a lovely meal defeated me. I could not say no.
I walked to my friend's house, passing the pub for a quick one en route. They were not expecting me till later so I had the free drink traditional on Christmas day and arrived at the next house at around 1.30.
That too was a lovely meal and although it was hard, I managed it with good grace and even joined them for a snooze afterwards until around 4pm it was time to move on. One of my friends was dying. I was going with some books to read and prayers to say.
The totally unexpected meal was waiting for me. They knew I'd be glad of it after a busy day. That was my third dinner, this time I jibbed a little but managed to make it look respectable.
In the evening I had arranged to go and play silly games with a group of friends That should be safe I thought as I walked slowly, now laden with plum pudding and turkey!
Bless me but they'd also done it. They waited with expectant smiles as 6 of us tucked into another lovely meal.
"We waited for you specially" they said.
So if any of you non clergy types think the Vicar of Dibley is any sort of an exageration think again! It happens and because we don't like looking ungrateful we eat it all up with gratitude!
But boy do we pay for it later!
Score so far this year...2 Christmas dinners so far.
Hoping theres not going to be too much food at the drinks party because I have a lasagne in the oven for later. Hic!
"We are both widows " she said, "I thought we could keep each other company"
I had arranged to go to a friend's at lunch time but the bright little face presenting me with a lovely meal defeated me. I could not say no.
I walked to my friend's house, passing the pub for a quick one en route. They were not expecting me till later so I had the free drink traditional on Christmas day and arrived at the next house at around 1.30.
That too was a lovely meal and although it was hard, I managed it with good grace and even joined them for a snooze afterwards until around 4pm it was time to move on. One of my friends was dying. I was going with some books to read and prayers to say.
The totally unexpected meal was waiting for me. They knew I'd be glad of it after a busy day. That was my third dinner, this time I jibbed a little but managed to make it look respectable.
In the evening I had arranged to go and play silly games with a group of friends That should be safe I thought as I walked slowly, now laden with plum pudding and turkey!
Bless me but they'd also done it. They waited with expectant smiles as 6 of us tucked into another lovely meal.
"We waited for you specially" they said.
So if any of you non clergy types think the Vicar of Dibley is any sort of an exageration think again! It happens and because we don't like looking ungrateful we eat it all up with gratitude!
But boy do we pay for it later!
Score so far this year...2 Christmas dinners so far.
Hoping theres not going to be too much food at the drinks party because I have a lasagne in the oven for later. Hic!
Monday, 20 December 2010
Eclipsed!
I am lying in bed with a glorious view of the moon. It has a bite out of it now and is going for a total eclipse.
It's very easy to see why our ancestors worshipped both the sun and the moon on occasions like this. In the clear skies over Cornwall it feels mysterious and beautiful.
It also reminds me of my hippie days when I was an Astrologer.
To actually admit this is difficult now. Priests are not supposed to have dabbled in magic but then I was not always a priest.
I was a self taught astrologer. Probably not very good. There's a lot of sums involved and Maths was never my subject.
But I did enjoy it and it did seem to work. I suspect that it worked for me like a crystal ball. It channelled my thoughts and allowed the psychic musings to emerge un impeded by logic.
Of course I do not do it now. Havnt got time for a start. But usually an eclipse is symbolic of some sort of disaster. We seem to be having a lot of those right now without the moon getting involved.
Half of it has gone and I may have to leave the comfort of my bed to witness the rest.
My days as an Astrologer may be over but I still appreciate something wonderful when I see it.
It's very easy to see why our ancestors worshipped both the sun and the moon on occasions like this. In the clear skies over Cornwall it feels mysterious and beautiful.
It also reminds me of my hippie days when I was an Astrologer.
To actually admit this is difficult now. Priests are not supposed to have dabbled in magic but then I was not always a priest.
I was a self taught astrologer. Probably not very good. There's a lot of sums involved and Maths was never my subject.
But I did enjoy it and it did seem to work. I suspect that it worked for me like a crystal ball. It channelled my thoughts and allowed the psychic musings to emerge un impeded by logic.
Of course I do not do it now. Havnt got time for a start. But usually an eclipse is symbolic of some sort of disaster. We seem to be having a lot of those right now without the moon getting involved.
Half of it has gone and I may have to leave the comfort of my bed to witness the rest.
My days as an Astrologer may be over but I still appreciate something wonderful when I see it.
Location:Truro,United Kingdom
Planning ahead. Hah!
Last week before Christmas and almost the entire country seems paralysed! People who were looking for ward to Christmas in one place are now spending it in another! Most of us can make the most of enforced stays at home, in fact we can enjoy them but its a shame for those whose only chance to catch up with friends and family is at Christmas. Today I should have taken my grand daughter out for lunch but she's still up north, unable even to get to the station.
Tomorrow we are going to visit David's son and grandson. Its about 30 miles away and thoughtful man that he is , has offered to pick us up from the town centre car park as the lanes to Crows nest are very icy. Yes there is a place called Crows Nest. Its as tiny and remote as it sounds!
Many services were cancelled yesterday and it remains to be seen how many more go but the forecasters don't always get it right. The severe weather warning for here hasn't happened yet. We are snow free but a bit icy. To the east its has snowed and I'm taking nothing for granted. I have one midweek communion and then midnight mass and Christmas day to sort out yet.
Its all getting slightly more frantic than usual as we are also thinking ahead. Just ten days after Christmas we are leaving the country... DV which means God willing! This means that as well as getting our presents wrapped and the food organised and the sermons written we are both trying to think ahead. Warm clothes for crossing the Atlantic in January and then summer gear for the rest of the journey!
One thing at a time. Lets not get too far ahead of ourselves.
Tomorrow we are going to visit David's son and grandson. Its about 30 miles away and thoughtful man that he is , has offered to pick us up from the town centre car park as the lanes to Crows nest are very icy. Yes there is a place called Crows Nest. Its as tiny and remote as it sounds!
Many services were cancelled yesterday and it remains to be seen how many more go but the forecasters don't always get it right. The severe weather warning for here hasn't happened yet. We are snow free but a bit icy. To the east its has snowed and I'm taking nothing for granted. I have one midweek communion and then midnight mass and Christmas day to sort out yet.
Its all getting slightly more frantic than usual as we are also thinking ahead. Just ten days after Christmas we are leaving the country... DV which means God willing! This means that as well as getting our presents wrapped and the food organised and the sermons written we are both trying to think ahead. Warm clothes for crossing the Atlantic in January and then summer gear for the rest of the journey!
One thing at a time. Lets not get too far ahead of ourselves.
Sunday, 19 December 2010
Lives lost at Mousehole
I was on retreat near Penzance before my ordination. Shell cottage stands on a cliff looking out to
sea. It is very beautiful as well as very terrible.
On my first morning there I watched a woman from the small cottages near by go down to the waters edge. She was in her nightgown and she carried a cup of tea. She stayed there for at least ten minutes just staring out to sea as the rollers broke onto the tiny beach.
I was there for five days and this was repeated daily. I asked about it feeling very worried about the woman and this is what her neighbours told me.
She had lost her husband and her son on the same day. They never came back. She knows this and yet something prompts her to go and wait as she had done many times before after a shout. I have no idea whether she still does it...but it touched me deeply and I have prayed for her, both then and since.
The lifeboat Solomon Browne went down on this day several years ago. Sixteen people died on that day and I always remember all those concerned.
This is the true cost of the Lifeboat service in the form of the R.N.L.I.
sea. It is very beautiful as well as very terrible.
On my first morning there I watched a woman from the small cottages near by go down to the waters edge. She was in her nightgown and she carried a cup of tea. She stayed there for at least ten minutes just staring out to sea as the rollers broke onto the tiny beach.
I was there for five days and this was repeated daily. I asked about it feeling very worried about the woman and this is what her neighbours told me.
She had lost her husband and her son on the same day. They never came back. She knows this and yet something prompts her to go and wait as she had done many times before after a shout. I have no idea whether she still does it...but it touched me deeply and I have prayed for her, both then and since.
The lifeboat Solomon Browne went down on this day several years ago. Sixteen people died on that day and I always remember all those concerned.
This is the true cost of the Lifeboat service in the form of the R.N.L.I.
Saturday, 18 December 2010
Snow? Bah Humbug!
Very weird today. The snow is affecting many places even though there has been plenty of notice that it was going to happen. My grand daughter who should be here now couldn't even get to the station this morning up in the freezing North. She will try again after Christmas!
Here in St Mawes it is clear. A bit of early morning crunch disappeared quickly and we've been in and out of the village a couple of times, the shops are doing good trade and the sun was out. The man who opens up St Just church arrived to say he hadn't opened it today it was too icy but then the cleaner rang to say there were several people trying to get in and should she open it up? Well of course! Apparently the intrepid souls were walking the cliff path so they were able to get hot drinks and choccy biscuits as well!
My husband is on locking up duty and he will bring back further reports.
In the next village my son reports that the very steep main road is treacherous and any attempt to get up or down it would result in an unplanned tumble into the sea.
As I am doing Mass there in the morning I am now slightly worried has to how best to get there.
The incumbent here was fairly laid back when I spoke to him this morning,
"One thing at a time" he said and he's right. No point in agonising about it till it happens.
But why do we keep letting it happen?
In North Wales if we'd stayed in every time it snowed we would never have gone anywhere. I do miss my Discovery on these occasions. Those big wheels could cope with anything! The little Beetles not quite so rugged...
Here in St Mawes it is clear. A bit of early morning crunch disappeared quickly and we've been in and out of the village a couple of times, the shops are doing good trade and the sun was out. The man who opens up St Just church arrived to say he hadn't opened it today it was too icy but then the cleaner rang to say there were several people trying to get in and should she open it up? Well of course! Apparently the intrepid souls were walking the cliff path so they were able to get hot drinks and choccy biscuits as well!
My husband is on locking up duty and he will bring back further reports.
In the next village my son reports that the very steep main road is treacherous and any attempt to get up or down it would result in an unplanned tumble into the sea.
As I am doing Mass there in the morning I am now slightly worried has to how best to get there.
The incumbent here was fairly laid back when I spoke to him this morning,
"One thing at a time" he said and he's right. No point in agonising about it till it happens.
But why do we keep letting it happen?
In North Wales if we'd stayed in every time it snowed we would never have gone anywhere. I do miss my Discovery on these occasions. Those big wheels could cope with anything! The little Beetles not quite so rugged...
Friday, 17 December 2010
Bullying on Twitter
I've not been on Twitter for very long...its been a fairly steep learning curve which on the whole I am enjoying. But last night I was on the receiving end of an attempt to bully which is very sad and also worrying. I had asked an MP a simple question. She had posted a link to her blog, I had clinked on the link and found a sign- in screen. I failed to get into the blog and asked her why not.
This fairly simple question unleashed the dogs of war! The pro and anti participants in this small war are sharply divided. Some people immediately started to follow me. Others started to attack. It was like watching a gang of teenage girls decide to gang up on another one. Messages of support came in from some unlikely sources and after a few unpleasant remarks I realised that there was another Revjean. Whether she is real or a troll I have no way of knowing but what was surprising was the glee as other people started to realise what was happening. It was the sort of feeding frenzy you see in the newspapers and the last thing I would have thought I would have been involved in.
I am not sure what today is going to bring..I am fairly busy right now but I would be interested to know if the MP involved had directed the operations of the girls in their attempt to scare me off. I did hear from another two people that they had had similar treatment after asking the MP for information.
Strangely I always assumed that Members of Parliament were actually answerable to the public. Isn't that their job? By virtue of the fact that they have to be elected there are always going to be people who disagree with them. If they encounter dissent isn't it their job to answer the questions reasonably? By the way she called me grumpy for asking how to get into her blog!
I suspect all this is Twitter made and nothing to worry about so I shall get on with my day soon with my usual joy and energy. Good morning all .
This fairly simple question unleashed the dogs of war! The pro and anti participants in this small war are sharply divided. Some people immediately started to follow me. Others started to attack. It was like watching a gang of teenage girls decide to gang up on another one. Messages of support came in from some unlikely sources and after a few unpleasant remarks I realised that there was another Revjean. Whether she is real or a troll I have no way of knowing but what was surprising was the glee as other people started to realise what was happening. It was the sort of feeding frenzy you see in the newspapers and the last thing I would have thought I would have been involved in.
I am not sure what today is going to bring..I am fairly busy right now but I would be interested to know if the MP involved had directed the operations of the girls in their attempt to scare me off. I did hear from another two people that they had had similar treatment after asking the MP for information.
Strangely I always assumed that Members of Parliament were actually answerable to the public. Isn't that their job? By virtue of the fact that they have to be elected there are always going to be people who disagree with them. If they encounter dissent isn't it their job to answer the questions reasonably? By the way she called me grumpy for asking how to get into her blog!
I suspect all this is Twitter made and nothing to worry about so I shall get on with my day soon with my usual joy and energy. Good morning all .
Thursday, 16 December 2010
Christmas cards etc
I am still working on my cards . There's more than one list and some year I will correlate them! I'll try. My problem is there have been so many places that I've lived and essentially so many Jeans, all different along the way.
My old school friend died last year, but I know all the rest are alive if not necessarily well and kicking . Trying to keep them all up to scratch has been made much easier with the use of computer technology though for some this is a double edged sword. The man who now sends me four pages of news used to get it all onto the back of his card!
People seem to need to tell you every detail of theirs and their children's lives, in my case we are now up to grandchildren and even great grandchildren. I don't remember all their names and the element of competition ruins many a good tale as they recount with pride all their academic achievements.
In the end though it is the time honoured way of keeping in touch with those who at various times of our lives were important to us. I am glad to hear from all of them even those whose links are tenuous.
Today I had a card from a lady I have only met three times. I buried the ashes of her mother some years ago and she valued what I did for her then and always comes to church when she's here. Unfortunately I am not at the same church now so she often misses me. This letter carries a message asking me to pray for her and if she can see me next time she's in Cornwall.
This sort of card is important to me and I will of course always see her.
Some of my friends have yet to come to terms with the Jean they knew years ago and the one they now see in a dog collar. My theatrical days and my days in teaching were filled with fun and joy and the woman they now know may not seem quite real until we start to chat and they say with relief, "Oh your still the same"
My dearly departed brother in law Fred said it all when I told him I was going to be ordained.
He was an actor and married into an acting family.
"But darling that's wonderful! Just think, you've scored the biggest part in every production!"
Not quite the way I'd put it
I have changed I suppose but being in the church brings me much joy and God has been good to me but I am still the dozy, fun loving girl I always was and I do thank God for it.
My old school friend died last year, but I know all the rest are alive if not necessarily well and kicking . Trying to keep them all up to scratch has been made much easier with the use of computer technology though for some this is a double edged sword. The man who now sends me four pages of news used to get it all onto the back of his card!
People seem to need to tell you every detail of theirs and their children's lives, in my case we are now up to grandchildren and even great grandchildren. I don't remember all their names and the element of competition ruins many a good tale as they recount with pride all their academic achievements.
In the end though it is the time honoured way of keeping in touch with those who at various times of our lives were important to us. I am glad to hear from all of them even those whose links are tenuous.
Today I had a card from a lady I have only met three times. I buried the ashes of her mother some years ago and she valued what I did for her then and always comes to church when she's here. Unfortunately I am not at the same church now so she often misses me. This letter carries a message asking me to pray for her and if she can see me next time she's in Cornwall.
This sort of card is important to me and I will of course always see her.
Some of my friends have yet to come to terms with the Jean they knew years ago and the one they now see in a dog collar. My theatrical days and my days in teaching were filled with fun and joy and the woman they now know may not seem quite real until we start to chat and they say with relief, "Oh your still the same"
My dearly departed brother in law Fred said it all when I told him I was going to be ordained.
He was an actor and married into an acting family.
"But darling that's wonderful! Just think, you've scored the biggest part in every production!"
Not quite the way I'd put it
I have changed I suppose but being in the church brings me much joy and God has been good to me but I am still the dozy, fun loving girl I always was and I do thank God for it.
Wednesday, 15 December 2010
Old age?
I am old and with any luck getting older. When I first set out to be a priest I assumed my age to be against me.
" I know I'm too old" I told the Bishop.
He just laughed and said "I know 30 year olds who are older than you!"
That single statement has kept me going for several years now and I suppose it is true that if your mind is open and still lively then to some degree we can avoid the worst signs of ageing.
But its only temporary and it will catch us up eventually as I'm finding to my cost this week.
I havn't done anything, fallen over or banged anything but I do hurt. I have no idea why. Until the weekend I was rushing around as normal and now I am not. Movement costs me effort and I am praying that it will go away before the week gets any busier.
It has got me thinking though. This community has got its young people but because its a favourite retirement spot its got huge numbers of old people. This I know is a burden on our doctors but we do seem to live longer here, the climate is good to us.
When I lived in Essex I used to ride my bike everyday and got quite upset at the sight of very old ladies passing me, pedalling away and nattering as they went. That was good exercise
In Cornwall I used to walk my dog every day, up and down the cliff paths for miles. That was also good exercise. Now he can't get much further than the end of the garden and in my present state neither can I!
I have always felt that so long as your mind stays active then the body can take care of itself. I used to do yoga and I'm sure that helps both spiritually and physically.
I still do the breathing exercises as part of my prayer program everyday but I think maybe the body needs a little more of a work out than I'm giving it. It feels as though its seizing up on me!
I refuse to join the ranks of those standing in front of a box doing daft exercises even if they are directed by a hunky man.
Swimming is a great exercise, and I enjoy it too but right now the sea does not invite!
And so have I come to this? This means chatting with friends, playing Backgammon and Scrabble on the internet to stop my brain from joining in the general decay and both tweeting and Facebooking!
There are worse things. Getting old is better than the alternative!
" I know I'm too old" I told the Bishop.
He just laughed and said "I know 30 year olds who are older than you!"
That single statement has kept me going for several years now and I suppose it is true that if your mind is open and still lively then to some degree we can avoid the worst signs of ageing.
But its only temporary and it will catch us up eventually as I'm finding to my cost this week.
I havn't done anything, fallen over or banged anything but I do hurt. I have no idea why. Until the weekend I was rushing around as normal and now I am not. Movement costs me effort and I am praying that it will go away before the week gets any busier.
It has got me thinking though. This community has got its young people but because its a favourite retirement spot its got huge numbers of old people. This I know is a burden on our doctors but we do seem to live longer here, the climate is good to us.
When I lived in Essex I used to ride my bike everyday and got quite upset at the sight of very old ladies passing me, pedalling away and nattering as they went. That was good exercise
In Cornwall I used to walk my dog every day, up and down the cliff paths for miles. That was also good exercise. Now he can't get much further than the end of the garden and in my present state neither can I!
I have always felt that so long as your mind stays active then the body can take care of itself. I used to do yoga and I'm sure that helps both spiritually and physically.
I still do the breathing exercises as part of my prayer program everyday but I think maybe the body needs a little more of a work out than I'm giving it. It feels as though its seizing up on me!
I refuse to join the ranks of those standing in front of a box doing daft exercises even if they are directed by a hunky man.
Swimming is a great exercise, and I enjoy it too but right now the sea does not invite!
And so have I come to this? This means chatting with friends, playing Backgammon and Scrabble on the internet to stop my brain from joining in the general decay and both tweeting and Facebooking!
There are worse things. Getting old is better than the alternative!
Tuesday, 14 December 2010
New neighbours.
When David and I got married we lived in what had been his house. It was in a wonderful position and was in easy walking distance of the church. After a year we realised we would have to move. The lovely house with the spectacular views of two castles had 53 steps up to its front door which was fine most days but not if you'd done a big shop or come back from holiday. We looked around and found an old farmhouse out of the village and moved in fairly quickly. No steps, a flat area to park in and room for visitors cars as well. Perfect. Our neighbours were also friends so we were all very happy until last year when the man next door died.
His widow moved out and a young couple we already knew moved in. We started off badly because during their first week they dug up every living thing in their very large garden and had a bonfire which took over a week to die down.
Since then things have been fine and this has been helped by the boy's opinion that I am some sort of a genius! This unlikely view came about when he took us round the boat he works on as chief engineer. It is a very big boat indeed and was moored in Palma where we were on holiday so we spent a pleasant day admiring how the other half lives.
As we were walking around this boat I kept seeing pictures hanging , some behind glass, all firmly anchored.
"If those were real" I said, "They would be worth a fortune."
He coughed..."Jean they are real"
I looked at them all again. Klimsk was heavily represented by a series of 5 pictures no less! There was a Cezanne, a Gaugain, and several other lesser Impressionists. It was amazing to realise the sort of wealth needed to furnish the boat with the silk rugs, the sculpture, the opulent furniture and fixtures.
I was not showing off at the time, simply amazed that these things should be on a boat, even one as big as this one. So my next door neighbour now truly believes that I am an expert in fine arts!
We are all getting on very well and I am due to marry them in 2013.
They have a delightful pair of cats and we are dreading the day our big bruiser meets theirs head on. They gave him a clue this morning though. The young man was out painting things white. It looked very smart and I applauded it and then we saw the trail. Their very white cat had trodden in the very white paint, an incriminating trail leads right round our house! It's actually very pretty. But very easy to follow.
His widow moved out and a young couple we already knew moved in. We started off badly because during their first week they dug up every living thing in their very large garden and had a bonfire which took over a week to die down.
Since then things have been fine and this has been helped by the boy's opinion that I am some sort of a genius! This unlikely view came about when he took us round the boat he works on as chief engineer. It is a very big boat indeed and was moored in Palma where we were on holiday so we spent a pleasant day admiring how the other half lives.
As we were walking around this boat I kept seeing pictures hanging , some behind glass, all firmly anchored.
"If those were real" I said, "They would be worth a fortune."
He coughed..."Jean they are real"
I looked at them all again. Klimsk was heavily represented by a series of 5 pictures no less! There was a Cezanne, a Gaugain, and several other lesser Impressionists. It was amazing to realise the sort of wealth needed to furnish the boat with the silk rugs, the sculpture, the opulent furniture and fixtures.
I was not showing off at the time, simply amazed that these things should be on a boat, even one as big as this one. So my next door neighbour now truly believes that I am an expert in fine arts!
We are all getting on very well and I am due to marry them in 2013.
They have a delightful pair of cats and we are dreading the day our big bruiser meets theirs head on. They gave him a clue this morning though. The young man was out painting things white. It looked very smart and I applauded it and then we saw the trail. Their very white cat had trodden in the very white paint, an incriminating trail leads right round our house! It's actually very pretty. But very easy to follow.
Monday, 13 December 2010
My Grandson Bobby
I have spent a morning trying to find something for my grandson for Christmas. Its complicated by virtue of the fact that his birthday is this week and a parcel has already gone with a new jumper, big bag and a torch. Now what?
Bobby was unlucky in all sorts of ways, not just having a birthday so close to Christmas. He had a stroke at three and meningitis at six. Now at 22 he s a young man with problems. He is profoundly deaf so any thing with sound is out. He can only use one hand well, the other one is clumsy so delicate adjustment toys are also out. His intelligence which was normal is seriously impaired, oh and he still limps a little.
He is a good swimmer and a handsome boy and I love him dearly.
He is resident in a Deaf Society home as far away from Cornwall as its possible to get in Margate so I don't see him all that often but I do write to him and send him things...when I can find something I think he will like. In the past I've been driven to sending him pyjamas with footballers on and I am trying not to send him socks but I am now at the head banging stage!
My communication skills with Bobby are not good. but my husband who met him for the first time a few years ago is wonderful. His wife had had a stroke before she died and he had nursed her for a year and developed a sign language which Bobby picked up immediately.
He was delighted by David and after pointing at my hand to establish that we were married he then looked at David smiled and said audibly" Grand dad." I cried and David still does whenever I tell this story. I've got Grandad on the job of cogitating too but as yet we lack inspiration!
Bobby was unlucky in all sorts of ways, not just having a birthday so close to Christmas. He had a stroke at three and meningitis at six. Now at 22 he s a young man with problems. He is profoundly deaf so any thing with sound is out. He can only use one hand well, the other one is clumsy so delicate adjustment toys are also out. His intelligence which was normal is seriously impaired, oh and he still limps a little.
He is a good swimmer and a handsome boy and I love him dearly.
He is resident in a Deaf Society home as far away from Cornwall as its possible to get in Margate so I don't see him all that often but I do write to him and send him things...when I can find something I think he will like. In the past I've been driven to sending him pyjamas with footballers on and I am trying not to send him socks but I am now at the head banging stage!
My communication skills with Bobby are not good. but my husband who met him for the first time a few years ago is wonderful. His wife had had a stroke before she died and he had nursed her for a year and developed a sign language which Bobby picked up immediately.
He was delighted by David and after pointing at my hand to establish that we were married he then looked at David smiled and said audibly" Grand dad." I cried and David still does whenever I tell this story. I've got Grandad on the job of cogitating too but as yet we lack inspiration!
Sunday, 12 December 2010
Wandering with Nomad Jean
When Gorse is out of flower then kissings out of season. I've always loved that ancient saying and was reminded of it when I dragged my poor dog out for a stroll. Crispin has regrown all the hair that was shaved off when he had to have his operation so he doesn't feel the cold, really, its just that although the temperatures up so is the wind and it feels chilly out there.
After all my proud boasts about the Spring flowers in my garden I take it all back. The recent deep freeze has done us all damage. It may have finally finished off the wonderful Agapanthas which have only just recovered from last years blast!
The only thing in flower now is the gorse...along the Cornish hedgerows there are the bright yellow flowers. Every year I decide to get rid of it...and then in the winter I'm glad I didn't.
Down at St Just its much the same story...even the hydrangeas are looking forlorn!
However both here and there the fat buds are untouched and we shall soon see glorious camellias out in all their glory.
Only the very old of you will know what the title of this blog is all about. I leave you guessing!
After all my proud boasts about the Spring flowers in my garden I take it all back. The recent deep freeze has done us all damage. It may have finally finished off the wonderful Agapanthas which have only just recovered from last years blast!
The only thing in flower now is the gorse...along the Cornish hedgerows there are the bright yellow flowers. Every year I decide to get rid of it...and then in the winter I'm glad I didn't.
Down at St Just its much the same story...even the hydrangeas are looking forlorn!
However both here and there the fat buds are untouched and we shall soon see glorious camellias out in all their glory.
Only the very old of you will know what the title of this blog is all about. I leave you guessing!
Saturday, 11 December 2010
Dave, our police liason officer.
An early morning conversation about the police started a hare running as I recalled Dave, our friendly liaison officer at my school. It was a small school set up in the 70's to teach English as a second language to the vast number of immigrants arriving daily in Rochdale. Though these immigrants were doing jobs which no one else wanted to do they were very much resented by some people.
We had children beaten up on their way to school occasionally and one policeman was assigned to be our liaison officer. Dave was young, outgoing and very good news.
When on polling day we found that people trying to vote were being threatened it was Dave we sent for. When the tyres on our cars were slashed it was Dave who came out. He supported us when we made a human shield to allow people to vote un molested in our school.
Living with constant racist threats was not comfortable but Dave made it bearable.
One fine Saturday morning there was a march going right through the middle of the town. Every one of us from school was on that march. It was peaceful and as we walked through the main streets of Rochdale we saw Dave in the crowd and he suddenly ran through and joined us. He walked with us all the way to the big park where speakers were waiting to greet us.
The next time we had an incident in school we rang the police expecting Dave when another man arrived. "I'm your new liaison officer" he announced. We wanted to know where Dave was but he just shook his head.
We rang Dave at his home and arranged to see him for a drink later. It was a really sad story. Someone had seen him marching with us and he had been taken off the case.
"They thought I'd gone native" he said ruefully and then grinned at us.."And its true really isn't it?"
Well yes it was true but we though it a sad reflection on the workings of the minds of the local police.
We had children beaten up on their way to school occasionally and one policeman was assigned to be our liaison officer. Dave was young, outgoing and very good news.
When on polling day we found that people trying to vote were being threatened it was Dave we sent for. When the tyres on our cars were slashed it was Dave who came out. He supported us when we made a human shield to allow people to vote un molested in our school.
Living with constant racist threats was not comfortable but Dave made it bearable.
One fine Saturday morning there was a march going right through the middle of the town. Every one of us from school was on that march. It was peaceful and as we walked through the main streets of Rochdale we saw Dave in the crowd and he suddenly ran through and joined us. He walked with us all the way to the big park where speakers were waiting to greet us.
The next time we had an incident in school we rang the police expecting Dave when another man arrived. "I'm your new liaison officer" he announced. We wanted to know where Dave was but he just shook his head.
We rang Dave at his home and arranged to see him for a drink later. It was a really sad story. Someone had seen him marching with us and he had been taken off the case.
"They thought I'd gone native" he said ruefully and then grinned at us.."And its true really isn't it?"
Well yes it was true but we though it a sad reflection on the workings of the minds of the local police.
Friday, 10 December 2010
Anger on the streets
I hate what happened yesterday. And I hate even more the fact that we now have a whole generation of youths who have been politicised and judged by the wider population as violent yobs.
I first felt this way during the miners strike when we saw images of police and miners apparently waging war on each other.
To use horses on these occasions is to try to show your opponents that you are superior in weight and armoury . Those of us brought up in the north know the history of Peterloo in Manchester when a baton charge followed by horses resulted in the deaths of several people who were marching lawfully and peacefully.
I waited and prayed that it would not happen again during the miners strike I was on one occasion trying to get up to the north for a family birth by driving up the A1. The police quite simply treated us all as scum and turned us back, not just once but several times. I don't think I looked like a danger to anyone and they certainly were not listening to explanations.
These students are not our enemies. They are angry for good reasons...but they are not criminals.
When I went on marches of protestation against fascists in the 70s we all knew that there would be a sprinkling of trouble makers, the ones who long to escalate the moment into violent reaction. We were determined not to let it happen and by and large it didn't.
The yobs have now got the upper hand but they have been helped in this by the police who have set out in riot gear, have unlawfully kettled youths for long periods which has intensified the feelings of impotence and anger so that even those who set out innocently enough have been drawn into it.
I now pray that the excesses of yesterday can be put behind us. Do we really want a politicised police force again? Or a whole generation of youths who feel let down by society.
These young people are our future. In years to come they will be the teachers, lawyers and doctors who will be responsible leaders of society. What sort of lessons are they learning now?
I first felt this way during the miners strike when we saw images of police and miners apparently waging war on each other.
To use horses on these occasions is to try to show your opponents that you are superior in weight and armoury . Those of us brought up in the north know the history of Peterloo in Manchester when a baton charge followed by horses resulted in the deaths of several people who were marching lawfully and peacefully.
I waited and prayed that it would not happen again during the miners strike I was on one occasion trying to get up to the north for a family birth by driving up the A1. The police quite simply treated us all as scum and turned us back, not just once but several times. I don't think I looked like a danger to anyone and they certainly were not listening to explanations.
These students are not our enemies. They are angry for good reasons...but they are not criminals.
When I went on marches of protestation against fascists in the 70s we all knew that there would be a sprinkling of trouble makers, the ones who long to escalate the moment into violent reaction. We were determined not to let it happen and by and large it didn't.
The yobs have now got the upper hand but they have been helped in this by the police who have set out in riot gear, have unlawfully kettled youths for long periods which has intensified the feelings of impotence and anger so that even those who set out innocently enough have been drawn into it.
I now pray that the excesses of yesterday can be put behind us. Do we really want a politicised police force again? Or a whole generation of youths who feel let down by society.
These young people are our future. In years to come they will be the teachers, lawyers and doctors who will be responsible leaders of society. What sort of lessons are they learning now?
Thursday, 9 December 2010
Student fees.
I have blogged on this subject before and make no apology for returning to it. Up until the second world war there was desperate unfairness in society on all levels. Those returning from the war determined that a new way of life should be established and two amazing pieces of legislation were put forward. One was the National Health Service and the other was the 1944 Education Act, both of which set out to deliver free health care and free education. Its all gone horribly wrong since then. Thatcherism started the rot by abolishing the Butler Act. Rab Butler was of course a Conservative minister .Fees were introduced and then the Labour government did nothing to make them fairer but actually put the fees up! Now the coalition is following a well trod path and despite all their protestations it seems desperately unfair. If I was a student today I would be out protesting. Education should be free at the point of delivery. If its such a good idea to charge for education then maybe we should go back to the dame schools where they all took their pennies in at the beginning of the week in order to pay the teacher who might have had 40 children in one large class. Intelligence as well as creativity arrives and grows in the most unlikely places and its to be fostered , encouraged and rewarded, not by hanging a great debt around the necks of those who are going to be our future teachers, doctors, lawyers and MP"s. Not everyone is suited to further education and once the myth was announced as an ideal that all children should receive a University Education why did no one see that it all had to be paid for? This generation of students is not to blame. All three parties need to sort out a properly fair policy to deal with what is a growing feeling of unease in the country. Lib Dems particularly are letting their voters down and will I am certain live to regret their actions. | draft |
Wednesday, 8 December 2010
My last dog Major sleeps
My golden retriever Crispin is now old and he has started to be very demanding. He had me up and down the stairs several times in the night and I remembered that his predecessor had in fact slept on my bed at the same stage but I was then a widow and the bed was very low. Crispin can't actually got onto our bed now.
Then this morning I was writing Christmas cards , going through old bits of paper and found this, a poem I wrote for Major after he'd gone.
He was beautiful ,my golden retriever
His eyes were kind and he smiled at me
The pup I rescued was unlovely
Beaten and neglected his scratched sores bled
His coat fell out and he worried his infected skin incessantly
With care and love his coat grew into beauty
A fully grown golden, majestic and dignified
We played and laughed together
Grieved for a lost partner and comforted one another in close companionship
I loved him dearly and as the end drew close
Became protective and careful of his problems
He was sociable and made friends with dogs and people everywhere
On his last walk he wagged his tail at old friends but was in pain
The pain grew until at midnight his eyes gazed into mine
And asked me for release. He trusted me
He was beautiful my Major. Even in death
Best dog in my world.
I know its soft....RIP Major.
Then this morning I was writing Christmas cards , going through old bits of paper and found this, a poem I wrote for Major after he'd gone.
He was beautiful ,my golden retriever
His eyes were kind and he smiled at me
The pup I rescued was unlovely
Beaten and neglected his scratched sores bled
His coat fell out and he worried his infected skin incessantly
With care and love his coat grew into beauty
A fully grown golden, majestic and dignified
We played and laughed together
Grieved for a lost partner and comforted one another in close companionship
I loved him dearly and as the end drew close
Became protective and careful of his problems
He was sociable and made friends with dogs and people everywhere
On his last walk he wagged his tail at old friends but was in pain
The pain grew until at midnight his eyes gazed into mine
And asked me for release. He trusted me
He was beautiful my Major. Even in death
Best dog in my world.
I know its soft....RIP Major.
Tuesday, 7 December 2010
Why does God let bad things happen?
It's a frequent question and one there's no easy answer to except to say that we are all tested and that it's the way we deal with adversity that makes us the people we are.
I am not sermonising this morning. I've already done a bit of that on Twitter when asked the above question. Instead I want to tell you a story. Hankies out now.
Last year I married a youngish couple. Many wedding couples are settled and in their thirties before they get married. This couple was different. They were early twenties and local. They had a council house, a child just starting school and twins. The twins were pushed up the aisle at the wedding in their double pram. They were late walkers.
They were late in everything and finally their young mum took them to the doctors.
After months of tests the diagnosis was stark. They were suffering a degenerative disease and were not expected to live long. Both of them.
This news made me angry with God to the point of shouting at Him fairly frequently. You can imagine what it did to the family.
The news spread around the village and what was evident was the feeling of impotence we all felt. There was nothing any of us could actually do.
I offered everything I had including money. The couple refused to accept anything from anyone to begin with but slowly an acceptance of their situation has settled upon them. No one has any idea how long the twins have got. A charity has taken up the cause and they go off to a day centre everyday and most days their eldest child goes with them. They need to spend as much time together as a family as possible. To enjoy what ever time they have left with the twins is their one aim now.
Everyone in the village is aware of the situation. The feeling of needing to help is apparent. Everyone wants to do something but at a local level the couple are still refusing help...they don't want people to feel sorry for them and I have to respect their wishes and I ring them rather than embarrass them by visiting.
What is real is the feeling that everyone has for this family. This is something I devoutly wish had never happened. These two did not deserve to be tested in this way but in the end they are becoming people I am proud of, no histrionics, no self pity, just a sort of world weary acceptance.
I pray they will get another Christmas with their twins and I pray that the eldest child is able to laugh and enjoy it as much as possible. Those of you who pray I know will do just that. Thank you.
I am not sermonising this morning. I've already done a bit of that on Twitter when asked the above question. Instead I want to tell you a story. Hankies out now.
Last year I married a youngish couple. Many wedding couples are settled and in their thirties before they get married. This couple was different. They were early twenties and local. They had a council house, a child just starting school and twins. The twins were pushed up the aisle at the wedding in their double pram. They were late walkers.
They were late in everything and finally their young mum took them to the doctors.
After months of tests the diagnosis was stark. They were suffering a degenerative disease and were not expected to live long. Both of them.
This news made me angry with God to the point of shouting at Him fairly frequently. You can imagine what it did to the family.
The news spread around the village and what was evident was the feeling of impotence we all felt. There was nothing any of us could actually do.
I offered everything I had including money. The couple refused to accept anything from anyone to begin with but slowly an acceptance of their situation has settled upon them. No one has any idea how long the twins have got. A charity has taken up the cause and they go off to a day centre everyday and most days their eldest child goes with them. They need to spend as much time together as a family as possible. To enjoy what ever time they have left with the twins is their one aim now.
Everyone in the village is aware of the situation. The feeling of needing to help is apparent. Everyone wants to do something but at a local level the couple are still refusing help...they don't want people to feel sorry for them and I have to respect their wishes and I ring them rather than embarrass them by visiting.
What is real is the feeling that everyone has for this family. This is something I devoutly wish had never happened. These two did not deserve to be tested in this way but in the end they are becoming people I am proud of, no histrionics, no self pity, just a sort of world weary acceptance.
I pray they will get another Christmas with their twins and I pray that the eldest child is able to laugh and enjoy it as much as possible. Those of you who pray I know will do just that. Thank you.
Monday, 6 December 2010
Put in your password now
We have all got used to modern IT now, as witness the fact of blogging, twittering and face booking so why do I always make such a mess of using the bank efforts to protect my money.
I am not a stupid woman but today sees a return of an old problem I thought I'd solved. Last time it took hours on the phone and raised blood pressure to get it sorted. Today hopefully I've done it faster. It remains to be seen if it's working tomorrow though.
My bank blocked me yet again for putting in the wrong password.
This problem only started when they got rid of one debit card and replaced it with another. Unfortunately many of the internet sites have yet to catch up with it so I am driven to using a credit card when I would much prefer to use my debit card. There are two passwords. Why? If I am not sure which one to use it's because I am not using the right card. That's what they tell me when I ring up. I have changed my password so many times in the last few months that it's become a joke. It's not helpful banking!
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad
Sunday, 5 December 2010
Come for Drinks
We have just got back from the first drinks party of the year. More to come. Before going I did two Advent Masses so I was fairly tired when I got there but it was well worth the effort. The house had belonged to a friend's mother. It sits on a bend of the creek at St Just, looking out to sea on one side and up to the bar on the other. Its in the most perfect position imaginable and is very beautiful. It has been renovated of course as have most of the homes in and around this area.
Now is the time to admit that almost everyone round here has money. Recession seems unlikely to do more than stir the surface but you never know.
A few years ago a new couple moved in and instantly joined everything, all the clubs, bought a boat, and settled down to a joyful life of social activity.
They had a lovely five years and then were found dead one morning by their cleaner. The suicide note was stark. They had run out of money. Fearing they could no longer operate socially and owing money to people was too much for them to bear but the note went on to say that they had always known they hadn't enough, they just decided to enjoy themselves and then go together.
This shocked me more than I could ever say. No one has ever criticised them in my hearing and got away with it. It was long before I became a priest but even now I wonder if one of us could have done anything.
Events like today alway are very enjoyable but they do accentuate the difference between the very rich and the not so rich.
Living in a community like this would suggest that you have to be rich to live here but this does not apply to the people born here. Any funeral I take for someone who was born and bred here is crammed with people I never see at any other time. They are all there but often do not ever come to church unless someone dies.
My Catholic friend Father Terence has noticed the same thing. It is our stated aim and a common concern that we must somehow try to bring these two separate communities together.
We have a long way to go.
Now is the time to admit that almost everyone round here has money. Recession seems unlikely to do more than stir the surface but you never know.
A few years ago a new couple moved in and instantly joined everything, all the clubs, bought a boat, and settled down to a joyful life of social activity.
They had a lovely five years and then were found dead one morning by their cleaner. The suicide note was stark. They had run out of money. Fearing they could no longer operate socially and owing money to people was too much for them to bear but the note went on to say that they had always known they hadn't enough, they just decided to enjoy themselves and then go together.
This shocked me more than I could ever say. No one has ever criticised them in my hearing and got away with it. It was long before I became a priest but even now I wonder if one of us could have done anything.
Events like today alway are very enjoyable but they do accentuate the difference between the very rich and the not so rich.
Living in a community like this would suggest that you have to be rich to live here but this does not apply to the people born here. Any funeral I take for someone who was born and bred here is crammed with people I never see at any other time. They are all there but often do not ever come to church unless someone dies.
My Catholic friend Father Terence has noticed the same thing. It is our stated aim and a common concern that we must somehow try to bring these two separate communities together.
We have a long way to go.
Saturday, 4 December 2010
The killer Eulogy
Sorry to return to the same subject so soon but since writing yesterday's piece I have remembered what for me was a defining moment of ministry when the Eulogy was used as tool to destroy a family.
It's been sitting at the back of my mind ever since and only occasionally do I remember how dreadful it was.
I was an ordinand at the time and the man who had died had been active in the church and a friend. Indeed I had stayed with him several times on his approach to death and had laid him out when he died during the night and it was going to be a long wait for the funeral parlour to arrive.
So I knew him and his family well and was fully aware of the rancour that existed between the present wife and the children of the first marriage.
As we made preparations for the funeral the daughter, then in her forties asked if she could do the Eulogy. The vicar said yes she course could and although the widow was not altogether convinced it went into the service sheet and so we had to go through with it.
It really was a killer. The widow was savaged slowly and efficiently by a very upset daughter. Her brother had stayed away because he knew what was going to happen. The eulogy was on that occasion a stick to beat the widow with.
We got the service over , the poor man was put into his grave and I turned to go back into the church fast. The vicar wanted to know where I was going at such speed.
"I am going to stop those two women from killing each other." I said as a raced past him.
All went well until we got to the wake in the local pub when I narrowly avoided a confrontation by both women by staying always between them until they got fed up with circling each other and left.
Since then I have always asked if I might read the Eulogy in advance. Where possible!
I have occasionally made some suggestions but I have never heard anything as bad as that since.
It's been sitting at the back of my mind ever since and only occasionally do I remember how dreadful it was.
I was an ordinand at the time and the man who had died had been active in the church and a friend. Indeed I had stayed with him several times on his approach to death and had laid him out when he died during the night and it was going to be a long wait for the funeral parlour to arrive.
So I knew him and his family well and was fully aware of the rancour that existed between the present wife and the children of the first marriage.
As we made preparations for the funeral the daughter, then in her forties asked if she could do the Eulogy. The vicar said yes she course could and although the widow was not altogether convinced it went into the service sheet and so we had to go through with it.
It really was a killer. The widow was savaged slowly and efficiently by a very upset daughter. Her brother had stayed away because he knew what was going to happen. The eulogy was on that occasion a stick to beat the widow with.
We got the service over , the poor man was put into his grave and I turned to go back into the church fast. The vicar wanted to know where I was going at such speed.
"I am going to stop those two women from killing each other." I said as a raced past him.
All went well until we got to the wake in the local pub when I narrowly avoided a confrontation by both women by staying always between them until they got fed up with circling each other and left.
Since then I have always asked if I might read the Eulogy in advance. Where possible!
I have occasionally made some suggestions but I have never heard anything as bad as that since.
Friday, 3 December 2010
Eulogies
A Eulogy is a potent powerful gift to the deceased and to the congregation. It's what they are there for and why we do them. They are disclosing details of a life the congregation would never otherwise have known. Secrets are disclosed..they can no longer affect the person at the heart of them and often they enhance a reputation in an unexpected way. I remember well an occasion when a good friend had died and his daughter got up and told us that he had been born in Admiralty Arch or at least the flat over it when his father had been Chief Lord of the Admiralty (I apologise if thats not the right job) and we all gasped because he'd never told us any of that!
The saddest eulogies are when there is no one left to give you any information. The job then falls to the minister to glean what they can from the few people who had contact with them.
The glorious thing is when an old lady who no one knew anything about at all, turned out to be a war heroine. I did one for a lady who had held down a tough job during the war and had been honoured on her return to normal life but no one knew today..it was her solicitor who turned up the evidence.
I have been at funeral today of a man I was very fond of. When his wife died he insisted on getting up and talking about her even though his son had not wished him to. Today was the son's opportunity for revenge but he didn't take it. He paid tribute to his father's life, filling in some sketchy details with great effect and brought tears to my eyes at one point.
Sometimes my colleagues are not pleased at being asked do this, in a very busy week its one extra task we could do without. But it's the most important part of the service and the last thing you can do for someone who has left this life. Rest in Peace Dick and all the others who have risen in glory.
The saddest eulogies are when there is no one left to give you any information. The job then falls to the minister to glean what they can from the few people who had contact with them.
The glorious thing is when an old lady who no one knew anything about at all, turned out to be a war heroine. I did one for a lady who had held down a tough job during the war and had been honoured on her return to normal life but no one knew today..it was her solicitor who turned up the evidence.
I have been at funeral today of a man I was very fond of. When his wife died he insisted on getting up and talking about her even though his son had not wished him to. Today was the son's opportunity for revenge but he didn't take it. He paid tribute to his father's life, filling in some sketchy details with great effect and brought tears to my eyes at one point.
Sometimes my colleagues are not pleased at being asked do this, in a very busy week its one extra task we could do without. But it's the most important part of the service and the last thing you can do for someone who has left this life. Rest in Peace Dick and all the others who have risen in glory.
Thursday, 2 December 2010
Bill Vanstone
The priest I mentioned in my last post was W H Vanstone, author of three wonderful books. As a girl I lived on a new housing estate in Rochdale before any churches had been built. We watched the church hall being built with interest and finally its incumbent arrived. He was then in his early 30s and was quite athletic having played football for a team in Bradford. (I think)
There was no church, just the hall which was very basic and Bill had a room in it containing a bed, a desk and hundreds of books. He lived there for several years whilst we raised the money to build a church and a vicarage.
On Sunday there were three sittings at Sunday school, hundreds of children arrived and I taught in all of them and then on Sunday evening there was Evensong followed by the Youth club. This was in fact a very rowdy game of basket ball. Bill would tuck up his cassock and play...hard, if you got tackled by him the wind was knocked out of you. After the game came the talk and the debate. It was these evenings when our minds were being opened, we were encouraged to think and to argue our case if necessary. It was no holds barred.
I was not a boy so I was banned from the choir so sometimes I went to the Methodists down the road to sing which meant that Bill then organised joint services for us.
As part of our fund raising we all did little jobs which he paid us for.
My job was to deal with all his paper work in the course of which I found all the offers of jobs, lecture tours, visits to the states. To all of them I was instructed to just say no.
Bill's books are scholarly and erudite. But he was not. His sense of humour was formidable. His sermons, no more then 10 minutes always made us laugh at some point. He was warm and supportive and he stayed a friend until he got sick and died.
After my husband died my vicar was a women and I told Bill how very good she had been and he said that he knew there was a place for them in the church now that was the nearest he ever came to saying it was Ok. I hope that he approves now and that from his saintly stall he can look down and be aware of the good he did for us all as well as for me. I light candles for him very regularly still.
There was no church, just the hall which was very basic and Bill had a room in it containing a bed, a desk and hundreds of books. He lived there for several years whilst we raised the money to build a church and a vicarage.
On Sunday there were three sittings at Sunday school, hundreds of children arrived and I taught in all of them and then on Sunday evening there was Evensong followed by the Youth club. This was in fact a very rowdy game of basket ball. Bill would tuck up his cassock and play...hard, if you got tackled by him the wind was knocked out of you. After the game came the talk and the debate. It was these evenings when our minds were being opened, we were encouraged to think and to argue our case if necessary. It was no holds barred.
I was not a boy so I was banned from the choir so sometimes I went to the Methodists down the road to sing which meant that Bill then organised joint services for us.
As part of our fund raising we all did little jobs which he paid us for.
My job was to deal with all his paper work in the course of which I found all the offers of jobs, lecture tours, visits to the states. To all of them I was instructed to just say no.
Bill's books are scholarly and erudite. But he was not. His sense of humour was formidable. His sermons, no more then 10 minutes always made us laugh at some point. He was warm and supportive and he stayed a friend until he got sick and died.
After my husband died my vicar was a women and I told Bill how very good she had been and he said that he knew there was a place for them in the church now that was the nearest he ever came to saying it was Ok. I hope that he approves now and that from his saintly stall he can look down and be aware of the good he did for us all as well as for me. I light candles for him very regularly still.
Wednesday, 1 December 2010
My job as a priest.
Some one asked me how I felt about being a non stipendiary priest. There is a simple answer to this question. Proud. This status suits me. When I was young and had my first call to ministry women were not allowed to be priests in the Church of England. My then parish Bill Vanstone who was fully aware of my call told me the only option was to become a deaconess, but he knew that that was never going to be a real option for me so I became a teacher instead.
During the years the call came back and became a definate pull that could not be ignored when I was just past 60. I ignored it but as happens with God, He did not take no for an answer and finally I applied to become a lay reader. On talking to me the bishop decided then and there that for me lay readership was not an option.
" I know I'm too old" I said before he told me that he would like to priest me.
My legs have never touched ground since. I am now what is described as a self supporting priest. I don't need money. I have two pensions which makes me very lucky.
I was ordained first as a deacon then as a priest and did all my Post Ordination training and completed the three years of that, during the year I should have retired had I been stipended.
But the church knew that would happen , they can do sums.
So I am now an assistant priest in a small cluster of parishes. I do not get paid for anything I do and neither do I ever claim expenses.
I can never be asked to move house. I can go on holiday at times to suit me and my husband. It suits me well.
I contribute to the coffers of the church by marrying alot of people. Over 200 couples at the last count.
I am very happy. I had the experience of running a parish during an interegnum and so I do know what the job entails and as Bill Vanstone would have said, being a parish priest is the most important job in the church and there is no promotion from parish work, worth having. A position he maintained until he died and one which I am privileged to endorse.
I do not feel, nor am I treated like a second class citizen. Everything I do is my gift not just to the church but to God. At last I am becoming the person He always wanted me to be and I am extremely grateful for it.
During the years the call came back and became a definate pull that could not be ignored when I was just past 60. I ignored it but as happens with God, He did not take no for an answer and finally I applied to become a lay reader. On talking to me the bishop decided then and there that for me lay readership was not an option.
" I know I'm too old" I said before he told me that he would like to priest me.
My legs have never touched ground since. I am now what is described as a self supporting priest. I don't need money. I have two pensions which makes me very lucky.
I was ordained first as a deacon then as a priest and did all my Post Ordination training and completed the three years of that, during the year I should have retired had I been stipended.
But the church knew that would happen , they can do sums.
So I am now an assistant priest in a small cluster of parishes. I do not get paid for anything I do and neither do I ever claim expenses.
I can never be asked to move house. I can go on holiday at times to suit me and my husband. It suits me well.
I contribute to the coffers of the church by marrying alot of people. Over 200 couples at the last count.
I am very happy. I had the experience of running a parish during an interegnum and so I do know what the job entails and as Bill Vanstone would have said, being a parish priest is the most important job in the church and there is no promotion from parish work, worth having. A position he maintained until he died and one which I am privileged to endorse.
I do not feel, nor am I treated like a second class citizen. Everything I do is my gift not just to the church but to God. At last I am becoming the person He always wanted me to be and I am extremely grateful for it.
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