Went back to our Saturday territory, this time with Louise, a young pioneer sister. Jean and I only managed about half of it, its such a big map. We got back to all the Not at Homes and found a few people in - and a couple mildly interested, who we can call back on. It was a lovely day - perfect blue sky, blossom everywhere, and rather a cold wind.
A Paradise earth day in many ways.
I am looking out over a turquoise English Channel as I write this, and its all frilled with little white waves. A quiet night in (I hope). We have been invited over to Jackie's for a Thai meal tomorrow night.
I must find John Clare's Shepherd's Calendar and chose some lines to start May off with.
The millenium is fairly hurtling along.
Friday, 30 April 2010
Thursday, 29 April 2010
Just a coffee morning
What was supposed to be a video and coffee morning turned into Just a Coffee morning owing to the fact that Captain Butterfly escaped through an open window, lured away by the siren call of Neil, a local Butterfly Supremo, to go and photograph the first Something or Others (see the Captain's Log for pictures and technical details). And as soon as the stern Captain was out of the house the video played up - and refused to play.
So we just had coffee, but it was a very nice morning. We (Audrey, Jean, Ken, Maggie and me) had been planning to watch the Watchtower Society's video 'The Organisation Behind the Name'.
Col wasn't back till late as they ended up in the pub, and his dinner (pie and mash) was a bit dried up by then.
We had a nice evening together couch potatoing in front of the telly.
So we just had coffee, but it was a very nice morning. We (Audrey, Jean, Ken, Maggie and me) had been planning to watch the Watchtower Society's video 'The Organisation Behind the Name'.
Col wasn't back till late as they ended up in the pub, and his dinner (pie and mash) was a bit dried up by then.
We had a nice evening together couch potatoing in front of the telly.
Sunday, 25 April 2010
A Butterfly Poem
Inspired by today's Captain's log I am going to post a poem I wrote about a butterfly I saw in Thailand many years ago. Captain B has a photograph of it somewhere.
When God Painted Thailand (by me)
When God painted Thailand
He splashed on golds and reds
Reds and golds against blue sky
And as we walked on Sukhumvit Road
God's paint palette flew by.
When God Painted Thailand (by me)
When God painted Thailand
He splashed on golds and reds
Reds and golds against blue sky
And as we walked on Sukhumvit Road
God's paint palette flew by.
Friday, 23 April 2010
An anemone walk
We - Captain Butterfly and myself - went walking in the bluebell woods at Arundel on this lovely Spring day. But they turned out not to be bluebell woods, not quite yet. There are a few bells out, but the ground was carpeted with white anemones. See the Captain's Log for some lovely pictures.
It used to be (in our Pre Retirement days) that we both worked during the week and spent the weekends together, but now we spend the week together, and do our own thing at the weekend. Which is nicer actually, as there are more days in the week.
This Saturday, El Capitano is off to a photo workshop, while I am off on the field service, the door to door preaching work. We plan to meet up at Jackie's, as she has invited us over for supper. And on the Sunday, I will be off to the Kingdom Hall and hopefully trying to make a few return visits, while Col will be Metal Detecting somewhere.
My sole role in his life on Sunday will be to have a packed lunch ready, and to provide a hot meal in the evening. Oh and I think there might be an episode of Dr.Who we can couch potato to.
It used to be (in our Pre Retirement days) that we both worked during the week and spent the weekends together, but now we spend the week together, and do our own thing at the weekend. Which is nicer actually, as there are more days in the week.
This Saturday, El Capitano is off to a photo workshop, while I am off on the field service, the door to door preaching work. We plan to meet up at Jackie's, as she has invited us over for supper. And on the Sunday, I will be off to the Kingdom Hall and hopefully trying to make a few return visits, while Col will be Metal Detecting somewhere.
My sole role in his life on Sunday will be to have a packed lunch ready, and to provide a hot meal in the evening. Oh and I think there might be an episode of Dr.Who we can couch potato to.
Thursday, 22 April 2010
A Funeral
We went up to London yesterday - hobbled up on a walking stick in my case - for Uncle Paul's funeral. It was at the Armenian Church in South Kensington that was built by Nubar Gulbenkian as a sort of private chapel (I think), and later gifted by him to the Armenian community in London.
It was a perfect Spring day. A tender blue sky, a few fluffy white clouds, blossom everywhere. We met up with Pen outside in the square. Nute could not rearrange her work commitments, but her flowers had arrived, along with ours, so all the family had flowers by the coffin and at the service.
I have never been to an Orthodox Service before - and had to be careful as at all non JW funerals not to join in with the service in any way. The singing was lovely and I think it was all what Uncle Paul would have wanted. Aunt Jo's brother had arranged for a small reception afterwards at a hotel only just a short hobble away, so that was good.
We sat with a friend of Jo and Paul's - a lovely Swedish lady called Anita - and had an interesting talk. And we swapped memories of Uncle Paul - how hospitable he was, how interested and interesting, - and also what a great cook. His curries were wonderful. But he was born in Calcutta, which I didn't know until Jeremy spoke at the funeral. His parents managed to escape from the Armenian genocide and settled there, where he was born.
I hope Paul and his parents (and all those who did not escape) have a wonderful awakening ahead of them, when the time comes, and that, in the meantime, they sleep safe in 'the everlasting arms' - held safe in the memory of Jehovah, the God of Abraham, who numbers every hair of our head.
So I hope very much we will all meet up again in the restored earthly Paradise. With no more funerals, as 'death will be no more'.
It was a perfect Spring day. A tender blue sky, a few fluffy white clouds, blossom everywhere. We met up with Pen outside in the square. Nute could not rearrange her work commitments, but her flowers had arrived, along with ours, so all the family had flowers by the coffin and at the service.
I have never been to an Orthodox Service before - and had to be careful as at all non JW funerals not to join in with the service in any way. The singing was lovely and I think it was all what Uncle Paul would have wanted. Aunt Jo's brother had arranged for a small reception afterwards at a hotel only just a short hobble away, so that was good.
We sat with a friend of Jo and Paul's - a lovely Swedish lady called Anita - and had an interesting talk. And we swapped memories of Uncle Paul - how hospitable he was, how interested and interesting, - and also what a great cook. His curries were wonderful. But he was born in Calcutta, which I didn't know until Jeremy spoke at the funeral. His parents managed to escape from the Armenian genocide and settled there, where he was born.
I hope Paul and his parents (and all those who did not escape) have a wonderful awakening ahead of them, when the time comes, and that, in the meantime, they sleep safe in 'the everlasting arms' - held safe in the memory of Jehovah, the God of Abraham, who numbers every hair of our head.
So I hope very much we will all meet up again in the restored earthly Paradise. With no more funerals, as 'death will be no more'.
Monday, 19 April 2010
A family funeral
My Uncle Paul has died, so we have a family funeral to attend this week. It will be in London. I was hoping for no funerals this year, only weddings, but for the moment 'death reigns as king over us', and so there is no knowing. Captain B ordered the flowers this morning and also the train tickets.
Aunt Jo (Paul's widow) is in just about the earliest photo of me - her and my mother (school friends from their Convent Days) - both looking so young - and me with wispy blonde curls.
Who knows where the time goes?
Aunt Jo (Paul's widow) is in just about the earliest photo of me - her and my mother (school friends from their Convent Days) - both looking so young - and me with wispy blonde curls.
Who knows where the time goes?
Saturday, 17 April 2010
A Brazen Hussy
We now have a brazen hussy on our balcony.
And no, its nothing to do with Captain B having a late mid life crisis. It is a plant that Bea bought over from her Eastbourne Garden.
She bought one for Jackie too. And we are rather flattered that she thought of us and brazen hussy plants, as we thought our hussy days were long past (if indeed they ever existed). And we are very pleased she didn't bring us something along the lines of Flowering Zimmer, or Purple Incontinentia instead.
When it flowers - golden apparently, not scarlet as its name suggests - I will ask the Captain to photo it for the blog.
And no, its nothing to do with Captain B having a late mid life crisis. It is a plant that Bea bought over from her Eastbourne Garden.
She bought one for Jackie too. And we are rather flattered that she thought of us and brazen hussy plants, as we thought our hussy days were long past (if indeed they ever existed). And we are very pleased she didn't bring us something along the lines of Flowering Zimmer, or Purple Incontinentia instead.
When it flowers - golden apparently, not scarlet as its name suggests - I will ask the Captain to photo it for the blog.
Tuesday, 13 April 2010
Van Gogh at the Royal Academy
We went up to London yesterday for the Exhibition - see the Captain's Log for details and photos.
An amazing exhibition - the work, the time and organisation that must have gone into it are mind-boggling. Judging by the crowds it is a big success.
We were talking about why Van Gogh is so popular and decided that his interest in everything and his passion for painting it makes his work so fresh and interesting.
And it put me in mind of this Walter De La Mare poem about Chardin:
A Still Life
by Walter de la Mare
Bottle, coarse tumbler, loaf of bread,
Cheap paper, a lean long kitchen knife:
No moral, no problem, sermon or text,
No hint of a why, whence, whither, or if:
Bottle and tumbler, loaf and knife -
And engrossed round spectacled
Chardin's passion for life.
Sometimes when you show people that the Bible promises we can live forever in the restored earthly Paradise, they seem to think it would be boring.
No it wouldn't. It will become more and more interesting and engrossing all the time. As I hope both Van Gogh and Chardin - and the Captain and myself! - will be able to find out.
An amazing exhibition - the work, the time and organisation that must have gone into it are mind-boggling. Judging by the crowds it is a big success.
We were talking about why Van Gogh is so popular and decided that his interest in everything and his passion for painting it makes his work so fresh and interesting.
And it put me in mind of this Walter De La Mare poem about Chardin:
A Still Life
by Walter de la Mare
Bottle, coarse tumbler, loaf of bread,
Cheap paper, a lean long kitchen knife:
No moral, no problem, sermon or text,
No hint of a why, whence, whither, or if:
Bottle and tumbler, loaf and knife -
And engrossed round spectacled
Chardin's passion for life.
Sometimes when you show people that the Bible promises we can live forever in the restored earthly Paradise, they seem to think it would be boring.
No it wouldn't. It will become more and more interesting and engrossing all the time. As I hope both Van Gogh and Chardin - and the Captain and myself! - will be able to find out.
Sunday, 11 April 2010
More Damaged Wings
More damaged wings, more antibiotics! Will I ever be well again? Bea is over for the week - and I got a lovely suprise this morning when Nute rang up to say she was in London, in between conferences, and would come down for lunch.
Just like old days when we all lived in the same city and could drop in on each other all the time.
Just like old days when we all lived in the same city and could drop in on each other all the time.
Tuesday, 6 April 2010
Monday, 5 April 2010
A Bank Holiday weekend
The weather has been good considering it is a Bank Holiday. Early morning Monday on the South Coast is all sparkling sunshine and little waves on the Channel. We - Maggie, Ken, Jean and myself - the Gang of Four - went to our Assembly at Haysbridge on Saturday. Wonderful teaching - it just gets better and better - as it always will. But both Jean and I had had very bad nights and had constantly to fight falling asleep. And we both admit to strange blanks in the programme.
The theme was 'The Time Left is Reduced', and how important it is that we make sure we are walking in Jesus' footsteps, as exactly as we can.
We all turned up for the special field service arrangement yesterday. Audrey and i worked a road full of big old houses turned into bedsits. So we were often having to witness through intercoms, which is far from easy. We then did a couple of magazine route calls.
I am off for coffee with Audrey this morning.
The theme was 'The Time Left is Reduced', and how important it is that we make sure we are walking in Jesus' footsteps, as exactly as we can.
We all turned up for the special field service arrangement yesterday. Audrey and i worked a road full of big old houses turned into bedsits. So we were often having to witness through intercoms, which is far from easy. We then did a couple of magazine route calls.
I am off for coffee with Audrey this morning.
Friday, 2 April 2010
APRIL
John Clare has this to say in 'April', in 'The Shepherds Calendar':
"The long lost charm of sparkling dew
Thy gentle birth recieves
And on thy wreathing locks we view
The first infolding leaves
And seeking firstling buds and flowers
The trials of thy skill
Were pastimes of my infant hours
And so they haunt me still..."
A window in time that stays open for me is a minute or two in a Spring morning in the soot-blackened Sheffield of the Fifties. I must have been 4 or 5 years old and was playing in a stone garden with stone walls - all black with soot - with a little friend. We were playing shop, using stones and flowers and whatever was around us. And there was fallen blossom on the black stones.
What i can remember is feeling so full of joy at the beauty of it all. I saw the Paradise the earth was meant to be and will be. Though it took me till I was in my late thirties to start to search for the Creator of it to thank Him.
"The long lost charm of sparkling dew
Thy gentle birth recieves
And on thy wreathing locks we view
The first infolding leaves
And seeking firstling buds and flowers
The trials of thy skill
Were pastimes of my infant hours
And so they haunt me still..."
A window in time that stays open for me is a minute or two in a Spring morning in the soot-blackened Sheffield of the Fifties. I must have been 4 or 5 years old and was playing in a stone garden with stone walls - all black with soot - with a little friend. We were playing shop, using stones and flowers and whatever was around us. And there was fallen blossom on the black stones.
What i can remember is feeling so full of joy at the beauty of it all. I saw the Paradise the earth was meant to be and will be. Though it took me till I was in my late thirties to start to search for the Creator of it to thank Him.
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