That is what blogging feels like at the moment - making bricks without straw (or is it out of straw?). I can't actually do much, and don't have much to write about. My Everest expedition is on hold indefinitely. And, even if I have the customised Everest knee fitted (built-in oxygen tanks), I still won't be going. I can see the fascination - getting yourself to the top is like getting yourself to the surface of the moon, and probably with less chance of a rescue. But, no disrespect intended to any brave mountaineer, especially those like Rob Hall and Andy Harris who died trying to save their fellow climbers, but I can't see any way its not a gamble with a precious, sacred human life.
I hope Jehovah will remember all those who died in the mountains though, and awaken them from the sleep of death when the time comes.
Captain Butterfly kindly drove me to the Kingdom Hall last night - handed me over to young Isaac, waiting in the icy rain for me. Another reason I must get those new knees, IF they will let me have them, so my poor brothers don't have to stand outside in all weathers. The meeting was wonderful, of course. There is no teaching like it in the world. But then, who is the head of the Christian congregation but Jesus, the great teacher himself?
The Memorial of Jesus's death is next week and there will be a special clean at the Hall on Saturday afternoon. Something else I can't help with anymore. Once again it all comes back to the surgeon and the new knees.
I kneed them.