Metaphor

I have been banging on again about September, heralding Autumn, being something of a metaphor these days and then reluctantly remembering that I can no longer  be said to be in the Autumn of my days. I am now beginning Winter.

So my metaphorical season has not arrived yet.  Its just round the corner though.

Thursday I was out on the door to door work. Our young householder cancelled his regular Thursday call, but we hope to see him this Thursday.  Jean and I were out as usual on Saturday - to the group, in a new venue, and we worked a very well worked road, but had a couple of interesting calls.

Sunday was the meeting - wonderful. There is no other teaching on the earth like this. And then some of us went for a Waitrose coffee afterwards. Sat there talking for ages, with three visiting sisters and a Bible student who is now attending the meetings.

And Jackie came over for supper on Saturday night; a shepherds pie (courtesy of Cooks), with cauliflower cheese (cooked by moi), carrots and string beans from our neighbour's allotment. He arrived at breakfast on Saturday morning with a big bag of fresh beans!

Followed by the usual ice-cream- oh and of course a bottle of NZ wine. Marlborough has been our favourite brew for ages - Oyster Bay, all of them.

And Jackie lasted till 9 o clock and felt fine the next morning!  So that is a real positive after all these  months.

And it took me back to one of my layers of expat memory. There was a time when our social life revolved round Wednesday night (which heralded the weekend there) and darts.And I always used to make a big cottage pie, with carrots and cauliflower cheese.  That was what the darts players liked. We probably had ice-cream for dessert then too, or maybe fresh fruit, but I can't remember.

One of the many positives about getting older is the layers and layers of memory that accrue.  Of course, because we are the damaged children of Adam, living in a fallen world, many of those layers involve pain, sadness and regret.

But I can perhaps glimpse how wonderful it will be when all the sad things have faded away and we are building layers and layers of memories of life in the restored earthly Paradise.

The human brain is an astounding machine - and quite a problem for evolutionists.  Why should we "evolve" something so complex if we don't even seem to use half of it.  I think Charles Darwin acknowledged that as a problem (I think, I haven't read his tome), so I wonder what he would think these days when we know so much more about its complexity.

We also understand now that what we choose to think about makes and strengthens connections in the brain, and can better understand how we benefit from listening to the Creator of the brain, Jehovah, the God of Abraham, who warns us to be careful of our thoughts, to be careful of what we dwell on, what we allow into our brain.

And, on that brainy note, I will finish my first September blog. Its raining today - and looks beautifully grey and green outside, with a calmish misty Channel blending into a misty sky.

Captain Butterfly has no plans. And its not butterfly weather.  "You will be able to spend the whole day with me", I trilled.  "Yes", he said, looking - well, I'm not a hundred per cent certain that was a thrilled expression.  Not even two per cent.