Sexy government.

I got up to a mystery this morning. On a quick look at yesterday's blog I found that around an extra 400 people had looked at it during the night. Forty I could have coped with but 400? In one night? Further investigation showed that the four hundred probably came from the USA. Even more of a mystery. I considered. I pondered. I worried a little. Now I think I may have a solution. Included in the blog title was the word "Government"
If you were googling government in a place where seething interests are desperate to get a particular government out then to look for anything on the subject may look like a good idea!
In which case they must have been terribly disappointed. There was nothing political either about this country or America. There was nothing really about government either. Just how it was affecting one person!
But it has been very interesting. The last time I got so many hits was when the title contained the word "sex".
So the secret of successful blogging is clearly to find the buzz words that excite the interest. Sexy government might be a good one! We shall see!
And I apologize to anyone who is reading this by mistake!


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How government works!

After a funeral this morning the sun finally came out and we went to eat outside at the local pub. The garden looks out to sea and we had a lovely meal more Mediterranean than seemed likely because people joined us at the table and we all talked. The wine was good and the food too and we covered a lot of ground...One of the people was a media wheeler and dealer and the other a government minister, a  low ranking one but nevertheless in office! ...They both had their blackberries on the table and whilst one was trying to google  the name of a pub several miles away the other was receiving both emails and text messages.
She carefully replied to each one of them until I asked her  what was so important that it interfered with her lunch!
"I'm duty minister" she said..."And I am answering questions now because  the press won't wait. "
As a glimpse  into the workings of government it was fascinating....and very funny when the media  bod told her friend that she had now given me enough material  for several blogs..........
Now would I?
It appears that being duty minister happens every five weeks or so and that even very junior ones had to find quick answers for the press when pushed....and they are pushed quite hard and frequently!
My friend is an unelected junior minister....thoroughly enjoying herself at the moment. I do hope it continues for her!

Christian charity?

Whilst we are having this wonderful burst of hot sunny weather people have been dying.  Covering for a friend who is having a much needed holiday I have done two funerals  already  and one more tomorrow.
This means that I have had to talk to church wardens, treasurers and secretaries of various churches and they have taken a  fair bit of tracking down.  Many are not answering their phones, presumably because they are also out in the sunshine but some urgent matters had to be attended to. All churches have their statutory fees which are easy to sort out but we have extras to add on and they are all different.
Yesterday I saw an appalling argument between two ladies as to who would get the verger fees in the absence of the actual verger. One lady said if she was getting the church ready she should be paid for it.I pointed out that being a church warden is not a paid post. She said she was putting in a claim for the last two years of looking after weddings and funerals.  The real  verger was almost in tears at all this...She really does  need the money badly  but had arranged to go out the day of the funeral . She will leave the church ready before she goes.  I have had to do some juggling with both people and money to make sure she doesn't lose out
What I am left with is the feeling that this wonderful institution of ours  has flaws...mostly to be fair its the people in them that are flawed but the notions of christianity, forgiveness and love has I regret to say passed some of them by.
I am ready armed for tomorrow. I have persuaded the funeral director to have one envelope with the fees for the church service and the burial after wards in one envelope and the money for the verger and the organist separate. That way I can dispense them myself...and make sure that justice is seen to be done!  Fingers crossed!

Bats in our attic

We live in an old farmhouse which is compatible with us because we are old too! About a month ago we were visited by someone bearing gifts. Because we were old we qualified for free insulation in our attic. We already had it. The self styled inspector was overbearing and insisted on going up to look. He made it sound like a government requirement.
My dear husband escorted him up and when they came down it was to tell me that we had bats. Well of course we had...lovely little things. I told him it was against the law to disturb them.
He replied that it was not yet the breeding season so we should be ok.
He put us down for free insulation. The whole space would have to be cleared he told us and left.
Since then my husband has been moving small tables, suitcases past their best, books, debris etc until today the young men arrived with the wadding.
After ten minutes they were down.
"you've got bats! " they told us. We knew and so did the man who had recommended us.
We have no wish to disturb the baby long eared bats just visible in the roof..why would we? They've been here longer than we have.
But the first man had ridden rough shod over my protestations and has caused my husband a lot of extra work.
It was not the fault of the young men with the wadding. They told us that the first man had done it before because he got paid for everyone he recommended!
This is not just a waste of our time but it is also a complete waste of tax payers money. It was a service we neither needed or wanted and just one man got something out of it. I'd dearly like to know how much he was paid!

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New printer from God?

Yesterday was a service of the word.....the only one of the month so I try not to overburden them with too many canticles and only one psalm. Instead I prepare poems and readings which I know they will enjoy and I call my sermon a talk and keep it brief. Ish.
We had a lot of visitors yesterday so there were more in church than I was expecting so before I started to talk I apologized for the lack of service sheets by blaming the printer!
Now it was true that my printer was behaving badly! It kept grinding to a halt and refused to print my sermon until I'd emailed it to myself!
This had the desired effect of making them laugh! Especially the bit about the daft cat walloping the printer! Which can be found on You tube. I am not good at putting in links!
The result of this is that this morning a man of the congregation arrived on my doorstep with a brand new printer...he said he had printed just 24 sheets and never used it again.
Overwhelmed I told him that the problem with the old printer was almost certainly my fault and could he not use the new one himself?
No he was adamant...they were moving house and the printer was not going with them!
He did not have the start up disc but within half an hour of him leaving I have printed off rotas from both my Mac books!
Thank you God. Thank you man. But I will be much more careful in future about how I make the congregation laugh!


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Crew or professional Christian?

When I was a girl  I hated the sound of what I used to call "The professionalChristian"
It was the voice of one,  who, knowing all the liturgy by heart used to almost sing it....For me it make a mockery of the whole thing!  If the ordination of women has done nothing else at least it has changed much of the attitude that produced that voice!
I recently came across a wonderful poem by D J Enfield.  Its called Sunday. I am tempted to post the whole thing....skip it if you don't want to read it but the verse about the "crew" in church is worth a visit.

Sunday

My mothers strongest religious feeling

Was the Catholics were a sinister lot

She would hardly trust even a lapsed one

My father was a lapsed Catholic

Yet we were sent to Sunday school

Perhaps in the spirit that others

were sent to public schools. It

Might come in useful later on

In Sunday school a sickly adult

Taught the teachings of a sickly lamb

To a gathering of sickly children

It was a far cry from that brisk person

Who created the heaven and the earth in

Six days and then took Sunday off. 

The churches were run by a picked crew

Of bad actors radiating insincerity

Not that one thought of them in that way

One merely disliked the sound of their voices

I cannot recall one elevated moment in church

Though as a choir boy I pulled in a useful 

Sixpence a month.

Strange, that a sense of religion should

Somehow survive all this grim buffoonery

Perhaps that brisk old person does exist

And we are living through His Sunday

D J Enfield

To chose God?

Our whole lives are made up of choices...we make them every day from the moment we get up even though the more mundane ones  might not seem to matter.

Which church to go to is a hard one.  

My parents were not religious, Dad was an atheist whilst mum, brought up as a baptist had avoided chapel for the rest of her life, which was a choice....of sorts. 

The whole idea of religion was tricky in my family...I too had gone  with my welsh grandparents to chapel as a young girl and when I returned back to my parents they sent me to the Unitarian chapel close to where we lived...I suspect because it gave them some time on their own rather than a desire to give me any spiritual guidance. 

I cant remember now whether I believed in what they told me at the chapel... but God was always there, a part of my life in the same way as my grandparents...for me it was not a choice...He was just there....but as I got older the knotty problem of which church to go became pressing. 

We had moved from the middle of Rochdale to the outskirts and I actually as a teenage girl decided that lacking a Unitarian chapel I would do some consumer research. 

I went to services at the local Methodists, the Church of England and even the Roman Catholic’s new church up Kirkholt....they lost me fairly quickly as in those days the services were all in Latin! 

My friends were all going into Manchester to hear Billy Graham and  they were coming home close to hysteria...I then made a decision not to go with them...I did not have to go to church to know I was saved...there was never any question of it in my mind, so I stayed home and found the Church of England was my resting place..

All my choices since then have been easy in the field of spirituality..I became a hippie, learned  meditation, stayed away from the church for a while and gave my children the same freedom of choice that I had enjoyed....

In the matter of choice we are given free will......God always choses us...and amazingly we are given the option of whether or not we chose Him...He’s still God even if we don’t! 

Expensive tastes

My husband is a wine drinker. He has expensive taste in wine. Once at a lunch I was hosting I invited him to chose the wine and was astonished at what the whole lunch had cost me.....he'd chosen wine at about £35 per bottle. I've been very careful ever since!
He worked for a family firm for the whole of his life and every Christmas they sent him a crate of wine and it was aways the good stuff. He has improved my palate no end in the years since we married. I can now distinguish a rough red from a smooth one, a flowery white from acid!
Whilst we were eating out recently, he browsed through the wine list at our table...he found one of interest. "Is this wine really this price? " he asked with arched eyebrows...
"It is indeed sir" was the reply.
He looked very thought full...
On the way home he told me that the bottle he'd been looking at was almost the same as a crate of them  he'd had a few years ago.  It was around a thousand pounds.   For one bottle?  Yes.
He became even more thoughtful.
He had at least two of the bottles left.
"Wow" I said," Pay for the next holiday!"
Since then research has revealed that somewhere in the house there are two bottles worth an arm and a leg!
More than the original estimate but quite a long way. The problem is that he hasn't got a clue where they are!
I can no longer pluck a bottle at random from one of his hiding places......I might be drinking the next cruise!

Blackberry picking

I have had a morning of trying to arrange a funeral,  yes another one! I am not even sure if the dead woman  can go in our grave yard  or if there is an existing grave to pop her into...No one seems to be in at the moment!   In each parish people have their own responsibilities and knowing  who  are the ones to approach is the main problem, even if I find them in!
So I have given up for the moment and am devoutly hoping that one of my phone calls  bears fruit!  Speaking of which, this afternoon  I strolled, along the lane near here  minus my dog. As I strolled I ate some blackberries which are very good and very sweet after some sun and rain. I met several other people with their dogs all enjoying the blackberry season.
Here is the seasonal tip of the day.   Never eat blackberries under the height of a dog!  Washed by rain is one thing but you really don't need it washed by dog pee.
All the best and  glossiest blackberries are of course at just the wrong height!
Took my mind off funerals though!

Family secrets

Once again today I have been staggered by the revelation of family secrets and tragedies. I came home to three funerals two of them for people I know. Even the closest of their family members have only recently found some fairly startling facts about the early life of their relation.
Tragedy happens in most people's lives and it's interesting to note that often the person most affected chooses not to talk about it. I suppose it's the same in my family. It causes pain to disclose that your father committed suicide as mine did and even more to tell your children that actually it was a relief at the time for my brother and myself. And yet only after my brother died did I find that his family had never been told most of it. We tend to stick to the bare bones, fearing that somehow, awful things detract from us, even things that happened long before we were born.
To find that your long dead uncle had died in a Japanese prisoner of war camp stuns you into a sense of unreality in some cases. This then is brought into stark reality on finding a poem written by his mother on hearing of her son's death. I have read the poem. It is poignant and beautiful but it was placed in a family Bible and left there for 50 years without being read.
We tell people to talk about their griefs when possible. But some people are simply unable to do this. Who knows what their lives might have been if the family had shared it's secrets.
It would be good to talk.

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QM2 on speed.

We travelled back home from a lightening tour of the British Isles this morning. The trip round the outer Hebrides was magnificent and we had a wonderful time. It was not restful though and we both dozed a bit on the way home.
It was pouring down here as we approached the house.
"Have you got your keys?" my husband beamed at me as the car stopped outside.
No I hadn't. We had left the house in the safe hands of our cleaner and had had no thought for our return.
Getting into the house with damp luggage sitting waiting was eventually accomplished and we were glad to be back.
The house was gleaming, our plants looked good as well as alive and the display on the phone showed multiple messages.
They were almost all about funerals and things I'd dealt with by email whilst I was away but some were not.
One person told us that she had rung every day and had not once received an answer. Clearly the explanation had never occurred to her.
The funeral directors were better...just. One had double booked me whilst another, realizing I was away had gone ahead with the arrangements anyway!
I will sort all this out tomorrow. This afternoon we slept!
It can't be jet lag. But the Queen Mary was on speed! Good evening all!


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QM2 on speed.

We travelled back home from a lightening tour of the British Isles this morning. The trip round the outer Hebrides was magnificent and we had a wonderful time. It was not restful though and we both dozed a bit on the way home.
It was pouring down here as we approached the house.
"Have you got your keys?" my husband beamed at me as the car stopped outside.
No I hadn't. We had left the house in the safe hands of our cleaner and had had no thought for our return.
Getting into the house with damp luggage sitting waiting was eventually accomplished and we were glad to be back.
The house was gleaming, our plants looked good as well as alive and the display on the phone showed multiple messages.
They were almost all about funerals and things I'd dealt with by email whilst I was away but some were not.
One person told us that she had rung every day and had not once received an answer. Clearly the explanation had never occurred to her.
The funeral directors were better...just. One had double booked me whilst another, realizing I was away had gone ahead with the arrangements anyway!
I will sort all this out tomorrow. This afternoon we slept!
It can't be jet lag. But the Queen Mary was on speed! Good evening all!


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Strange world of social net working!

It's a particularly strange world we inhabit in Twitter and Facebook. This morning I was taking pictures of Flamborough head which somehow got onto BBC York! Staggering but true.
Later I got into a row with a far right winger for defending those being chucked out of their homes in Essex. To my amazement I was immediately contacted by the BBC and asked to take part in a discussion at lunch time on radio. The producer rang me up but the failure of the link in the end meant I wasn't going to be a reliable contributor. But they have my phone number for another one even after I get back home.
Who would dream that so many links can be made so quickly?


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The last stop.

It's hard to imagine that today is Sunday. You lose all sense of normal time on a cruise. I did not go to church this morning because we had arrived in Queensferry.
I had never been to Edinburg and David had but was always working so it was an opportunity not to miss.
We were taken off this huge liner in very small tenders. They felt small anyway.
The last time we did it was in Tailand in extreme heat. This
morning was damp.
We did enjoy it. It's clearly a city that needs at least two weeks. And we had a few hours. But it gave us a taste. The shops opened at 11am so the roads were quiet until then.
I'd forgotten about the textile industry here until every other shop advertised Scottish cashmere. Apparently the wool is taken from goats!
I did not succumb but I did buy some truly beautiful Christmas decorations for the tree. Well it is the middle of September.
We are now at the bit of the cruise when you have to dash around buying presents for people at home. In other words it's nearly over. Tonight we set sail and tomorrow will travel right down the east coast until we get back to Southampton on Tuesday.
There are no more stops. Tomorrow is a day at sea which is always lovely with lots to look at en route. It gives you a rest before packing and getting home.
This is just as well. A dear lady died whilst we were away and I have arranged most of the funeral by email but the relatives will be on my doorstep early Wednesday morning.
Back to work with the help of God.


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Snippets

All in American accents
Wife. Oh honey really I can't be bothered with all that history and all. I know you like it but really all I want are the shops.

Woman arriving after the coach is full
One of you is going to have to move. Come on move now. I get travel sick.
Long pause. No one moved.

If you don't move I'll be sick on you!

No one moved.

Wife. Where are the real shops
Husband. All shut. Thank God
Wife. I'll find one honey. I mean to do some real shopping today!

Husband. Tell me again why it's called something rude.
Wife. Deep sigh. It's not rude it's rood.
Husband. Thats what I said

Two people's divided by a common language.


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Will you take a wee dram?

I knew but had quite for gotten how beautiful the northern islands are. I had a friend who lived on the banks of the Clyde and I used to visit her during the summer as she got older.
I drove to Greenock and took a car ferry to Dunoon. She then lived a few miles along the banks of the Clyde.
She had been my health visitor when I had the babies and had finally retired to her native land. She was never able to do nothing so she started baking bread. Every morning she set off to deliver the bread to regular customers.
We went far and wide with this bread and at every stop we were offered hospitality. Very often this consisted of a wee dram! Disconcerting at ten am .


My trips up here often involved taking various ferries to various islands and I really had for gotten just how glorious it was.
My friend died before my ordination and it's the first time I've been up here since.
It must not be so long again.


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Greenock in the rain!

Last night the leaving of Liverpool was overwhelming. Thousands of people had been lined up on the pier all day but at night it was simply staggering. There was singing and fireworks as we sailed away. Not a dry eye in the house.
During the night we travelled up the coast and were already in the Clyde estuary when we woke up. Now docked we have had the water greeting in more ways than one. It's trying to rain!
We have opted to go to Stirling Castle. Can't now remember why!
So we will board our coach after lunch and go explore!


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Loving Liverpool

When we got here there were hundreds of people lined up to watch us come in. They are still all there ! Cunard is special to this place and they are doing us proud.
We visited both cathedrals this afternoon. The Anglican one is huge and creates a massive space inside which is beautiful and exciting. The last time I saw it it was unfinished and a bit dull. Not any more.
The Catholic cathedral was newly built when last seen and had left a lasting impression. Today did not disappoint. It is glorious in colour and I'm so glad that what I remembered from 40 years ago is the real deal. Wonderful. It is a cathedral painted in light.
And tonight we set sail to a firework display. Love it.


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The leaving of Liverpool.

We are sailing past the bit of North Wales where I used to live. Memories are flooding in but are giving way to even older memories. The Liverpool I knew as a girl has gone so they all tell me. My best friend at college was a Liverpudlian and when we had enough money we would go into the city, look for Chinese restaurants and eat wonderful exotic food.
I've been back lots of times since then but we left North Wales in 1981 and have not been back so I am expecting many changes.
In an afternoon we can't see it all but the one thing I really want to see is the Catholic cathedral I first saw the glorious glass windows when I was a girl. They took my breath away. Since then Paddys Wigwam must have changed bit but I'm hoping the windows will be the same!
The Beatles thing happened after I'd left it. It's amazing that many of the tours offer the Cavern as part of the heritage.
From the top of Moel Famau where I used to live I could see Liverpool and the Wirral stretched out below me. It would be wonderful if I could see the top of the mountain today from either the sea or the city. It would provide a lovely symmetry in my life.

Visiting saints.

I asked David if he'd ever been to Ireland before. Oh yes he said. I came for lunch once.
That was just about normal for my jet setting husband. He would take off for foreign parts on very short notice and stay just long enough to see whether a new hotel or hospital was viable. It didn't leave much time for sight seeing. Which means that now he is just interested as I am to see all the different places we visit because now there is time to look around.
We are arriving late in Cobh after some rough passages last night.
Cobh is a Celtic name for Cove I think. It's wonderful to think that the Cornish saints started here or Brittany and crossed the seas in coracles.
How those tiny boats ever made it safely is amazing. Last night this huge ship was being tossed around. A coracle wouldn't have stood a chance. Except of course if you had God on your side.
In the church at St Mawes there are stained glass windows showing the coracles arriving complete with their Saints. Now returning to where they all set off from. Saying a prayer for those who brought Christianity to our heathen shores.
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Snails and garlic

We have made our first shore excursion. David knew a remarkable amount about the Mulberry harbour project. The firm he worked for as a boy had designed and made them. He also knew Cherbourg. It was a harbour he used to moor his boat in so he knew the cafes around the harbour too.
We had no intention of eating. Our problem here is, there is always far more than we can eat!
After a couple of glasses of
fairly rough red wine though we succumbed.
The man on the next table sitting in the sunshine was tucking into a plate of seafood . We ordered what he'd got.
Before the food itself arrived a remarkable array of tools were brought.
Pickers, pokers, needles, pliers all lined up. And then the food. Wonderful! Lobsters, oysters, snails , langoustine and crab. An amazing array of sea food, complete with large dishes to take away the debris.
I did manage the garlic snails. They were a challenge.
Wonderful start to the holiday.



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Garlic and snails. Yum!

We have made our first shore excursion. David knew a remarkable amount about the Mulberry harbor project. The firm he worked for as a boy had designed and made them. He also knew Cherbourg. It was a harbor he used to moor his boat in so he knew the cafes around the harbor.
We had no intention of eating! Our problem here is, there is always far more than we can eat!
After a couple of glasses of fairly rough red wine we succumbed.
The man on the next table was tucking into a plate of sea food. We ordered what he'd got!
Before the food itself arrived a remarkable array of tools were lined up. Pickers, pokers, needles, pliers. And then the plate of food... Wonderful. Lobster, oysters, snails, langoustine , crab, an amazing array of sea food arrived with large dishes to take away the debris.
I did manage the garlic snails..it became a challenge!
Wonderful start to the holiday!


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Garlic and snails. Yum!

We have made our first shore excursion. David knew a remarkable amount about the Mulberry harbor project. The firm he worked for as a boy had designed and made them. He also knew Cherbourg. It was a harbor he used to moor his boat in so he knew the cafes around the harbor.
We had no intention of eating! Our problem here is, there is always far more than we can eat!
After a couple of glasses of fairly rough red wine we succumbed.
The man on the next table was tucking into a plate of sea food. We ordered what he'd got!
Before the food itself arrived a remarkable array of tools were lined up. Pickers, pokers, needles, pliers. And then the plate of food... Wonderful. Lobster, oysters, snails, langoustine , crab, an amazing array of sea food arrived with large dishes to take away the debris.
I did manage the garlic snails..it became a challenge!
Wonderful start to the holiday!


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Bring back the building societies!

My first husband David the first, was a fairly senior bank manager...When in the early nineties it became possible for all the building societies to become banks he was outraged. Up to then the four big banks held sway and he was very proud of  Nat West  his bank!. When the new rules were introduced he was very very pessimistic! End of the banking system as we know it he said mournfully....one bank will buy up a smaller bank ad infinitum until we are left with the big four again, all owned from abroad...
Now David the first was not always right, sorry love if you are up there on your cloud reading this, but you were not always right but on this one he was spot on.
He would have been dismayed by Nat Wests being taken over by the Royal Bank of Scotland, even more dismayed when it all went pear shaped under the  leadership of Fred the Shred....
This mornings plans for banking including them ring fencing their assets would have been music to his ears I think.
Although David was dismayed this did not stop him from doing a bit of carpet bagging!  He joined all the building societies as they made their hopeful ways into banking....now they have all gone or been bought by Spanish banks!
The original building societies observed the rules of ethical banking...they had been set up by people wanting the working man to have access to banking facilities...
To return to their original rules is I think an un attainable dream.....but some banking regulations back in force would help to resort our confidence!

Nine eleven.

Nine eleven is one of those dates  that makes you remember your exact whereabouts on the day. It ranks with the assassination of Kennedy, the death's of Elvis and John Smith,  when listening  to the news was of paramount importance.
I remember exactly where I was when the first news came on the radio about the bombing of the twin towers. I was sitting on the King Harry Ferry on my way to visit  an old man in hospital. By the time I got off the ferry I had realised that something of earth shattering importance was happening.
When I got to Treliske I found the old man in  a ward of only about 15 people, all waiting for the results of tests, apart from two who were under going chemo...the ward was quiet and still when one of the nurses appeared and turned the TV on.
My patient groaned and asked for it to be turned off but the nurse sat down to watch as pictures of the planes approaching New York were shown. The room was riveted...they all watched, including the men on chemo. More nurses arrived, then doctors...eventually all the beds in the small ward were being used as chairs...it was not good hospital practice but no one was bothering as the full story emerged in all its horrifying detail. We all watched as the twin towers burned, the windows blowing out, the people screaming. I started to pray and others of similar ilk joined in.
My visit to Treliske was prolonged that day. Somehow it seemed to be very  important to be with other people. After a couple of hours commentators were already speaking of a Muslim plot...Bin Laden was mentioned...it was horrifying stuff but also totally absorbing.
I got home very late and watched the TV till the early hours . It was already obvious that none of our lives would ever be the same again.  And so it has proved. Lord have mercy!

Should vicars blog?

Why blog?   A question asked  more than once and for me its easy...I blog because I have to. The habit of keeping a diary started early...Notebooks of all kinds got filled up fairly rapidly at busy times of my life.  Some things need to be talked about, others written down .
My early blogs have all I think been consigned to the dustbin of life.  One that recorded an abusive relationship I burned quite recently, not wanting anyone to read it and weep after my death.
Writing is therapy....my worst moments have all been written down but seldom revisited..
Blogging now in the age of easy access to communication is of course not like keeping a secret diary which no one is going to read....but sometimes you forget that...sometimes the heat of the moment takes over. And when someone mentions a dubious passage I often say..."Did I write that?"
 Once I've blogged it's over, forgotten,  which is part of the reason for doing it.
I try to avoid blogging after a drink or two or after a row or after a moment of screaming at the news on the TV.
I explained to someone recently that the clergy seem to blog far more than most but maybe thats just the ones I read...
Some people think it inappropriate for anyone in the church to blog about anything but I think its a very good thing and lots of my congregation do see my blog some of the time.
If a person who wears a dog collar can't share the moments in their life of joy, of anger and of grief then you have to ask why not? We are human beings.  we share the human condition...we lose people we love, we battle with health problems, we grow old and crabby...but above all we share with everyone else our moments with God.
 The times in our life when God breaks through the clouds of dross and hypocrisy are precious to us and if we can share those moments with others then it can only be a good thing.
I am not sure I could describe myself as a Christian blogger....God does not always have a speaking part in what I write, but he is always there to some degree, the stage manager, unseen by most but essential to the daily ordering of our lives.
Those people who are amazed by my being a priest clearly never knew me as well as they thought they did.
God has always been present in my life, through the dreadful bits and through the hysterically funny bits and through the moments of sheer glory!  Alleluia!

Moisturise your hair?

I really must read the blurbs  on packages more carefully!  I sent in the usual order to Boots last week knowing that I would need some night cream before I went away....The label said "Overnight Beauty Moisture Balm." On my list it went. Last night I used it for the first time, only to discover this morning that it wasn't for faces...it was for hair!
Hair? Who on earth uses overnight cream on their hair?
I am very lucky....Apart from six months as a blonde when young I have had mousey hair which now has got some greyish bits .
I had great fun as a teacher,  one week when I started off the week blonde, had it changed back to mouse by Wednesday  and greyed it up for a part as an old woman in "Spring and Port wine" in the local theatre on Friday. The children in school were thoroughly bewildered!
 I have never subjected either my hair or my skin to savage chemicals...and the list of chemicals included in this hair stuff is remarkable.
I had many actors as friends at one stage of my life and saw the havoc that heavy greasepaint did to their skins. Most of them went without anything on their faces all day before greasing up again at night.
Because of this I now no  longer use make up at all....but I do use moisturerisers most days. And most nights...
If any of you know anyone who would like some hair moisturising gel please refer them to me!  But it will come with no recommendations !

Packing again

Over the years I've done a lot of packing...and I always end up taking too much. I suppose thats a common female thing. You try to think of all the different occasions  you may be going to experience. It could be hot. .It could be freezing!  You could be swimming. Or walking, or shopping, or visiting churches.
Some of the clothes that our visitors here, wear are extraordinary but I am much too old now to wander around cities in shorts and sun tops.
At least I don't have to pack my husband's things....he is very determined on that score and in the past I have benefitted from finding just enough room in his suitcase for a couple of sweaters if needed!
Next week we are off again and its only a short trip but am I using it to do some experimental packing, Instead of waiting till the last minute and slinging  a load of stuff into a case with just  hours to go, this time I have laid it all out on the spare bed. I will try to make sure that things match. I will only take just enough for the week and no more. mmmmm.  The road to hell etc comes to mind...
My appalling experience in Capetown last year of having to repack in full public view has I believe cured me of excess...I am determined never ever  again to be refused at the last minute.
Tablets, Ipad and Iphone chargers, insect repellent, sun screen... shampoo, etc all need careful thought. as well as carrying!
At least we are spared from carting great loads of books around now....everything is on kindles etc...
I don't actually go till Monday morning early but the necessity of frugal packing is exercising my mind as you can tell!  
But in the middle of it all I have chosen the hymns for Sunday....whew!

Social net working?

I have several social net working sites, some barely used. I use Facebook mostly with local friends , people I know and see from time to time. As I play Facebook scrabble I have a few friends I've met through playing with them on a regular basis. One or two of them read this blog which is amazing!
Twitter is different. Apart from a handful of people I've never met anyone from Twitter and yet there are people there I count as friends.
I can understand making friends whilst playing games with them but most of the people  on Twitter do not fall into that category...I see their tweets, they see mine and after after a few exchanges we talk regularly.
Its fascinating to think that over the world wide web  we can recognise kindred spirits or of course the opposite....those we treat with careful courtesy because we know we don't share similar beliefs.
The rows are different though.
People who really care about religion , sport, politics tend to fight on line for what they believe ...and some fights are ferocious.
I recently watched two men, a Christian and an Atheist  battle out their positions over a three day argument which at times got very nasty.  I chucked in a couple of supporting lines but felt disinclined to get really involved, it would have taken up too much time.
I've had several battles of my own,  the worst being one ages ago now where the religious right wing from the Bible belt in Texas were screaming for my blood because I  knew and liked quite a few Muslims.
The idea of an all inclusive God has no place in that sort of Christianity it seems.
If its a mystery how we make friends its an even greater mystery how we make enemies. And yet there are quite a few out there and occasionally a spat occurs.
I always fight my corner if pushed but I have found lately that its possible to make friends with the people I've fallen out with in the past.
There is always some point of agreement, its just a question of finding it...or as Jesus put it..I do try to turn the other cheek. Having a sense of humour is the important ingredient in this endeavour. If you can make people laugh, even those who really despise you,  then sometimes bridges can be built.
If the dislike gives way to a tolerant cordiality then something has been achieved. But its not as stimulating!

Political responsibility.

During the war I was farmed out to my grandparents....they had me till I was 7.
When my father came home from the army he failed to get any job that he wanted and started by breaking up pig iron in the local foundry. I lived in a home with few books apart from library books but there was a lot of talk. Regular visitors talked politics with my father whilst I listened and occasionally asked questions. A brave new world was about to be revealed I heard, the welfare state, the national health service, the 1944 Education act....all wonderful , marvellous ideas coming to fruition at the end of the war to end all wars.
It was no wonder that I was interested in politics...it was almost the sole topic of conversation in my growing up years.
My joining the Labour party was actually an act of rebellion. Both my parents were communists so, encouraged by Bill Vanstone who also joined the Labour Party I became the secretary of my ward party and on the executive committee of the Trades and Labour Party in Rochdale. I was 15.
I ran elections, I was on the labour group which made policy decisions every week as to how our local councillors would vote. It was serious stuff and I was left in no doubt that providing I didn't go off the rails too much , one day I too would be first a councillor and then an MP.
To be an MP was a far away dream but I always knew that all I had to do was keep on with what I was doing in order to make it!
The church got in the way. Jesus came first. I went off to college instead to be a teacher..
When I was asked in my twenties to stand for the council I turned it down...but the notion of going into politics at some stage was always somewhere lurking,,,
My ideals have been shattered in many ways by the conduct of MPs in all parties but non quite so blatantly unsuited to office as Nadine Dorries.
Her grasp of truth is so slight that its breathtaking to listen to.
She seems to be using her position to further her own future in such a blatant way that you have to wonder what the rest of her party thinks of her.
Her response to being questioned is quite extraordinary. We all have people who tell us we're wrong...a bit of debate is very healthy usually but in her case it enables her to be a victim in a very big way.
Those of us who were teachers always knew the children in the class who were seeking attention but its the first time I've seen it in a grown woman...and one in a responsible position .
During my first month on Twitter when I knew no better I got into a small tussle with her and was astonished to find a gang of right wing young women trying to bully me the following day.
She has since withdrawn from Twitter...but her blog makes interesting reading. Her views on abortion are well documented...I just hope that her party makes sure she never gets any of her policies acted upon.
This is not quite what I imagined as a girl when I thought of all the good that could be achieved by holding higher office. She's not the only one who abuses her position I am sure...just the one I am most familiar with.

Murdoch's choice of friends.

I am a little shocked at the revelation that Tony Blair is a god parent to one of Rupert Murdoch's children. Tony Blair is a Christian. He must be aware of what is involved in being a godparent. Was he really agreeing to help the child to grow spiritually?
The more cynical amongst us may I think be for given for thinking that the motives of both men might be suspect..
Murdoch clearly hoped to rule the world, making overtures to all those in power. It is dismaying to think of all the decisions in our life time he may have been able to influence.
To invite people to be godparents to a child is bending all the rules of normal social intercourse beyond anything normal, if you don't know them well.
So, if it comes to that is to invite people to stay with you at Christmas or go on holiday with them..
By making sure that the people in power took his hospitality and had real connections with his family he has managed to surround himself with people of clout. The recent discoveries about phone hacking seem not to have dented this man or his family much if at all...
But I do wonder about what sort of person allows himself to be manipulated in this way...Blair, Brown, Cameron...they all seem to have joined in!
This is the way the world ends, not even with a whimper, but with a silver cup engraved with a babies name on it.
Lord have mercy.


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Allergic reactions.

I was sitting chatting to my children this afternoon and as I talked I realized I was scratching away at one leg. I apologized with the words...
"Its OK I am not lousy, it's just my eczema."
I then started sneezing..And before they went I did a convincing demonstration of someone on the verge about to choke.
It's the dammed allergy season again! For years I persuaded myself that my small patches of irritated skin were ring worm and therefor curable..but in my heart I knew I had got the same as all the rest of my family....I was allergic to everything .
My grandmother used to sit up in bed with her asthma spray wheezing away. My father used to sit quietly scratching his legs much as I do now. My daughter had her first asthma attack at 18 months old when I'd taken them into the country for the day.
So it obviously runs in families...
It was not good news for my son though to hear his mother bewailing her fate as he had also started scratching.
I am not complaining about this having this problem. When I think of some others people's ailments , a bit of itchy skin seems a very small price to pay for otherwise vigorous health..but I do wish I knew what caused it. And why it seems more prevalent today than it used to. Are we really wrecking our environment to the point of poisoning it ?
We are of this world us allergy sufferers. So why are some parts of it poisonous to us?
OK. I know it could be much worse...it's just very irritating in more ways than one!


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Stereo typing

When I was a curate every time we got to the bit of gospel which disparages tax collectors it was always music for my soul ...because my training incumbent was one! But I always thought it a strange bit of stereo typing.

The theory of synchronicity is alive and well this week...its been very odd how various themes have repeated themselves in different ways. During the week we saw a remarkable little film from the BBC called" The Boy in Striped Pyjamas." Today a friend on Twitter blogged an amazing story about orphans on their way to the death camp at Treblinka.
The tragedy that was the holocaust is the end result of a desperate bit of type casting of the Jews as greedy and not really human at all.

The readings from Matthew for this week included a sentence from Jesus which said if you have done everything to get people to see things from your point of view then treat them as if they were Gentiles or tax collectors! (I paraphrase)
I had already decided that I would preach on the dangers of stereo typing and these two stories appeared.
So I . have used them both in tomorrows sermon.
Here are two quotes, one from Maeterlinck
Let us never forget that an act of goodness is in itself an act of happiness. It is the flower of a long inner life of joy and contentment. It tells us of peaceful hours and days on the sunniest heights of our soul.

And the next from Korczak.
What should we do when everyone acts less than human? We must act more than human.

Builders perks

I try really hard not to be cynical but sometimes it's hard. Our builders who have done an extremely good job all week, putting slates on roofs, painting the chimney stacks as well as the walls and generally making the house gleam in the sunshine, have just appeared to tell me that they can't after all finish today as they have a sudden emergency with an old lady. What they have forgotten is that they also had an emergency on Friday afternoon last time they were here. My husband an ex builder laughed first. They always find an excuse he told me for disappearing to the pub for the rest of the day.
It's not that we mind at all. They are tidying up as I type. We shall be able to function over the weekend surrounded by scaffolding. I just wonder why they have to find an excuse.
That I am a soft touch is not in doubt. After telling me about the old lady who needed to be rescued they took me to look at my cross, a wooden one made for me by a friend which sits on the front gate.
They have taken it down, removed the lichen and revarnished it. It now gleams as brightly as the house!
I hope they enjoy their afternoon at the pub... I know that most of the other builders in the village will gather there too. Now many holiday makers have gone the landlady will be glad of their custom.
It's like all villages over the country...and I would never dissolve the good will by criticizing them. You never know I might even buy them a pint!


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Sweet September.

The sun is shining and its warm outside. Ive been to both churches this morning and there has been a sudden dramatic drop of visitors...which can only mean one thing......the Exodus has started.
When I was part of the group who returned home for the start of the new school year I would have been amazed or even shocked to discover that the locals rejoiced at my departing...
I sternly set my face against feeling pleased when I first came to live here...but I'm afraid the local prevailing view has taken me over!
We can now drive our cars without hitting all the people who stand around in the road chatting. I could actually find a parking place at St Just! Its quieter all round and its no wonder that the locals say September is the best month!
I should feel bad about this way of thinking but oddly I don't.
The camp sites are still open till October and now is the time when the golden oldies arrive in droves...all the people who have retired and have no children in school who have also realised that its the best time to come...and they are just delightful, they don't walk the streets singing at gone midnight, they  have better manners  and they  tend to appreciate  that people not only live here but work here too....the health visitors and care assistants often find it very hard to arrive anywhere on time during the month that is now past for another year!
The birds are starting to flock but the swifts who nest in the church porch have started another family...lets hope their timing isn't too far out!
The blackberries are fat,  black  and juicy.
The sea is warm... well warmer than it might be!
The summer flowers have matured into great masses of colour.
The conkers are hanging off the trees.
The roads are quiet .      Alleluia!    Now is an excellent time to arrive!