When God Painted Thailand

Painted Jezebel, Delias hyparete

WHEN GOD PAINTED THAILAND

 by me

When God painted Thailand

 He splashed on golds and reds

 Reds and golds against blue sky

 As we walked on Sukhumvit Road 

 God’s paint palette flew by.

Captain Butterfly has a photo to go with this epic poem. Its of the enormous butterfly that inspired the poem when it flew past us.   We have a print of it in our kitchen.  If possible, I will try to get him to put it on this blog.  (I did, he has.)

I wrote this poem many years ago, when I was in my late 30s and really beginning to think seriously about Life, the Universe and Everything. And I was starting to hear what the creation was telling me about its Grand Creator - that Someone had made this so lovely, just for us.

I wrote this on our first visit to Thailand.  I had never been there before - and I was dazzled by the bright saturated colours - and the smell of Thailand, which is lemon grass and chile and pepper and galangal and ginger and sandalwood.  Back then the lane - Soi - where our friends lived was almost rural, in that there were trees, blossom, snakes, butterflies. And in the morning you could pop out into the Lane  and buy freshly made breakfast pancakes from the street seller there. In our latter years of visiting, it was just one long traffic jam - like any big city street.  But much hotter and steamier.  And in the rainy season when Bangkok flooded, it turned into a river and we had to wade up it.

Jean and I managed to get out Friday morning - to the Field Service group - and we completed the little road we were given.  We had one very interesting call - leaving an invite and a magazine - and hopefully we may - just may - see the lady we spoke to at the Memorial.  I then had lunch with the Captain - soup and toast. Then he went off an errand to try to detect a lost wedding ring, and I shopped for us and for Jackie.  I met two of my sisters while shopping and we stopped for a chat. And I was thinking how much I owe Jehovah. I would not have this lovely local and worldwide family if he had not brought the truth to my door and helped me to understand it.

The Brexit/Bremain thing is now in an unspeakable tangle.  I can only think - without taking any sides - that the EU was designed so that it is impossible to leave it.  Or else our poor old politicians could not fight their way out of a brown paper bag.   Whatever, its a poisoned chalice and I feel quite sorry for all of them.

I was out with my siblings this morning, delivering Memorial invitations.  We had a great morning and I am now hoping to get myself together enough to prepare supper for Jacks tonight. If not I shall have to put in an emergency call to the Captain, who is somewhere out there with his metal detector, and it will be fish and chips. Again.

The First Moth of Spring (more or less)

Early Grey, Xylocampa areola

Monday night - the Captain was watching a very important match on the telly, in which One Team was  playing Another Team at Something - when suddenly play stopped, and the shrieks of  'GET YOUR SPECS ON REF!!' were replaced with shrieks of "Its a MOTH!" .

I was trying to imagine how a moth on the pitch had stopped play, when the Captain, our stepladder and camera sped past me and disappeared onto the balcony at the speed of light.

It was half time. And moth time.

Double-striped Pug, Gymnoscelis rufifasciata

What exquisite things moths are.  We had some beautiful mothy visitors on our balcony last summer, so maybe we will this year too.  Jehovah - and Jesus, working beside him as the "master worker" of Proverbs - put such artistry and engineering into even the tiniest of micro moths.

Tuesday morning was The Dentist - check up and clean - only when I got there it was "Hold the clean" - his machinery was broken - so I have had to book that in for April. Which should make for another stunning blog when the time comes.  I had to have one tiny filling - drilling but no pain-killing injection required.   Not nice, but not painful.

Captain Moth and Neil went to Mill Hill Tuesday evening - and came back with more moth photos.  So Moth Season is well underway. There are so many of them.  The earth is full of interest.

And he left very early Wednesday morning, to meet Mark, for butterfly purposes.  In Dorset!   A long journey for us Brits.  Its a small country.  I put an extra cake in his lunch box - I had two left of Mark's favourite - marmalade muffins. And one job for today is to make another batch of cake for the freezer. It will be carrot cake this time.  And then hopefully I will be shopping, getting on with my studying, visiting Maggie, and DOING SOME HOUSEWORK... and publishing this blog once the Captain has not yet had time to add some of his lovely mothy pictures.

In the meantime, I am about to make lunch. The carrot cake is in the oven, the shopping is done, the packed lunch is done, and I have had a long chat with Lilian on the phone. I am trying to encourage her to attend the Special talk on Sunday 14th.  She very much needs to hear it at the moment.

Mind you, so does everyone in the world. And I hope millions will.

And I am now exhausted...  my energy level is so low I feel as if I am running on empty. No housework done as yet.

An Important Invitation - and climbing the North Face of Mount Paperwork

What did I do on Thursday and Friday... think... think  (Note to Sound Effects: Please supply the sound of two brain cells whirling round a large empty space, occasionally colliding and producing a thought.)   Obviously I finished my study for the Thursday night meeting  - the congregations worldwide are just starting Paul's first letter to the Corinthians.  And I got to the Meeting. And yesterday I did my Watchtower study for Sunday.

How Can you Safeguard Your Heart?
https://wol.jw.org/en/wol/d/r1/lp-e/2019244

Very well worth a read.

Oh and I did get back to my editing work, which at least gave me no bad dreams this time. Or not any that I remember.  I re-worked Umbrellas a bit, and was comforted to notice that it seems fine with a bit of tweaking.  I had feared a re-write looming up.

And I got back to something I started ages ago, and abandoned. Which is to tackle one load of paperwork a day - from my files - the idea being to sort and shred, sort and shred.  So I am toiling up the massive North face of Mount Paperwork, very slowly.  And without Sherpa support.

Jackie joined us for fish and chips on Saturday night - and Jean and I got to the Field Service group in the morning. We are now starting to deliver the invitations to the Special Talk and Memorial, which are to be held next month.

I hope you will all receive an invite and attend.

The Special Talk:  Reach Out for the Real Life!  will be given on Sunday, April 14.  But I don't know what time your local Kingdom Hall has its Sunday meeting. That will be on the invite.

And the Memorial will be on Sunday, April 19.  After sunset.  Our memorial will start at 8:00 p.m.   And I imagine most will start about that time, but, once again, the time will be on your invitation.

And it will be held worldwide, on that day. 

It was the meetng on Sunday - and how do people get by without this teaching?   I also did Jackie's shopping and delivered it.

Spring may finally be here and I wish I could describe just how beautiful the day was.  But, under the "Comes in like a Lamb, Goes out like a Lion" rule, March should end on rather a stormy note. We will see if these old sayings are still valid.

Spring has Sprung (almost)

Wood Violet and Primrose

I will start this blog by saying hello to Robert, Naomi and family, brothers and sisters in the Christian congregation,  who live on the beautiful Cape of South Africa.  Robert, I was so happy to hear that you were enjoying my blog!

I have only been to Africa once - and that was to South Africa, eleven years ago now.  We went to a friend's wedding in Jo'burg - and then on to the beautiful Cape to stay with friends.  What a lovely place it is.

We visited a small game reserve while we were there, and saw a hippo family  - mother, father and baby.  The baby decided it wanted a feed, mum obliged, and dad instantly got protective and warned us off.  Our guide reversed us quickly out of there.   But what a good protective husband and father that rhino was.   Mother and baby are very vulnerable when feeding.

And what lovely innocent faces rhinos have. Like Moomintrolls.   And how heartbreaking the suffering of animals is. They are all so innocent in this.  Thank God there is a rescue for all the earthly creation on the way. 

Now then, what happened on Tuesday... ?    Yes, Jean and I managed a good hour on the door to door work, plus we got a call of Jean's done.   I did my walk in the afternoon... and made us tea - baked potatoes and salad for the Captain - salad with soya for me (it was rather horrid and I won't have it again- the baked potato was fine, but forbidden now I am diabetic).

The Captain has been out and about, photographing the signs of Spring.  See photo above.

The sandwich fairy keeps visiting the fridge - and the boxes of sandwiches keep disappearing full and reappearing empty. So clearly we are both still living here.

We had a walk by the river this afternoon - Col with camera in case the Harbour seal might show its face. It didn't.  But it reminded me of my first trip to Half Moon Bay, in Saudi Arabia, many many years ago - 30 plus years ago I guess - and as I looked out over the Gulf this little seal-face popped up out of the water, had a look at me, and disappeared.  It wasn't until some time later that I realised it could not have been seal, but must have been a dugong.

Dreams of Failure

Red Admiral, Vanessa atalanta

Saturday night was a tiring night, full of dreams of failure, and I woke up feeling very depressed.

The first dream was about going back to work in an office somewhere - I think on a cliff by the sea. And someone asked me how I was getting on.   Terribly, I told them. I don't know what I'm doing and I can't understand anything.  And I felt in my dream that that was depressingly true of every job I have ever had.

In the second dream, I was driving one of Col's cousins to hospital to pick up her husband - her ex-husband who she divorced decades ago - from hospital after his knee surgery.  As I was telling her about my knee surgery I found I had turned right round (she was in the back seat for some reason), and I had forgotten I was driving.  I whirled round just in time to find I had almost crashed us into a great gaggle of cars, parked on a clifftop carpark.  It was a dead end, and we were dangerously near the edge.  The cousin then took over the driving and got us out of there. And I felt a complete failure.

The third was in a pub, leaning on the bar, talking to said ex-husband, who had had his knee surgery that day. His knee was bandaged but he was leaning casually against the bar, drinking a pint of beer.  I was saying to him that it took me a couple of days before I could stand after my op and another couple of days before I could go home.  What a wimp I must be I thought as I watched him nonchalantly swig his drink and deal with the pain.   And I felt - yes - a complete failure.

Do I sense a common theme?

Perhaps the editing work I am doing on what may be my next published book triggered this, as it all now seems too trivial to publish, and not like real writing at all.

But why the cliff-edge theme?  Is that also an about-to-fail/fall thing, or the fear within my body as it feels itself slipping inexorably towards the cliff - to the "huge and birdless silence"  (Larkin "Next Please").

When old age happens - I mean real old age - threescore years and ten stuff, you feel the wrongness of it.  I notice some people look shocked, stunned, shellshocked by it.  If we lived in the Darwinian world they want us to believe we do, then surely it would be a natural process.  I, for example, have well and truly passed my evolutionary sell-by date and should be happy to go.

But that's not how I feel at all.   It feels so wrong, such a shock.  And the older I get the more precious, wonderful and interesting the gift of life seems. And I know that I have hardly begun.  But whether I shall be able to continue living for ever, on this wonderful planet is up to my Creator. 

It will be an "undeserved kindness" for every one of us. So we can all hope, if we listen to Jehovah, and do our best to follow in Jesus' footsteps

Captain Butterfly left quite early on Sunday - laden down with metal detectors and sandwiches - and I went to the Meeting at the Kingdom Hall.  I had to do a hasty shop on the way back, as Jacks was coming over for supper and I had planned fish and chips. But, in our morning phone chat, she mentioned that she had fish and chips on Saturday - with a friend who had come for lunch.

So I managed a curry supper for us - and it fed Col and me yesterday too.

Yesterday was my Eye Test, at SpecSavers.  It is very technological now, and included a complete scan of my eye.  Things are going better than I hoped, for which  I do thank God.  And what a wonderful complex creation the eye is.

Surely Darwin himself would no longer believe in his Theory if he were around now?

But I need new glasses - and was completely baffled by the choice of lenses and frames - and came away feeling I had made all the wrong choices.

Another failure!

Oh dear, oh dear.

Leo Houlding and Spectre

We went to Horsham on Monday night to see Leo Houlding talking about the Spectre Expedition.
https://www.speakersfromtheedge.com/theatre-tours/lhoulding-the-spectre-expedition.

He is such a good speaker, and it was an amazing adventure - 3 men and 1 drone - well worth going.   I think less than a dozen people have ever seen the mountains he shows us. And how they managed to film under such conditions I do not know.

Am I the Right Stuff for such an amazing trek - manhauling and kitehauling sledges past the South Pole?    In a word NO.

For one thing there are no flush toilets in the wilderness beyond the South Pole.  No flush toilets!  No Gift Shop for me to buy my souvenir t-towels and fridge magnets in!  And no nice cup of tea available (with a scone or two on the side)!!

Nope, I am not the stuff of which explorers are made. And I never was, even in my young somewhat more fit days, alas.  But I have to admire those who are.

Tuesday was very stormy - the wind was actually rocking the car a bit - so Jean and I only managed 40 minutes before we had to run for home.  I say "run"...    We did have a couple of good calls though.   Yesterday I did a big shop for Jackie and for us.  And I managed some much needed housework, visited Maggie, and I guess that was about it.

It was the return of the Butterfly joke, and Maggie and I laughed together for about half an hour, though I don't think either of us really knew what we were laughing about. But hopefully we both felt better for it.  And while I was out that way I drove over to Grace and popped the current magazine, plus a letter, through her door. She can no longer come to answer her door, but asked me if I would continue to deliver them (the Watchtower and Awake! magazines). 

The Captain was off giving a talk about The Butterflies of Sussex, illustrated with some of his lovely photos. They treated him to a nice lunch.

He has left very early this morning for a dig somewhere in Hampshire.  He has taken his sandwich lunch with him, though I guess you are never more than 5 ft from a rather smart boutique deli out in the Hampshire wilderness.

The Brexit/Bremain thing meanders on with no conclusion, in its Alice Through the Looking Glass way.

A Magnolia Morning

Jean and I were out on a beautiful March morning on Saturday.  The March wind had blown and brought snow to the North, but it had blown us blue skies full of fluffy white clouds.   Daffodils were everywhere, and the blossom is arriving. The magnolias are out and splendid.  Impossibly beautiful against the blue sky.

The creation is telling us and telling us of its Grand Creator, Jehovah, the God of Abraham.

We managed two hours - going slowly round the little Close we had been allotted - then doing some calls - including getting asked in for a chat by a gentleman I was just about to give up on as I haven't found him at home for ages - plus selfishly I wanted to get back to the Kingdom Hall for a cup of tea - however we did knock at his door - he was at home! - he asked us in - it turns out that he too worked in Saudi Arabia - he will read the magazine and we may call back.  He seemed rather taken with Jean.  And we just made it back to the Kingdom Hall in time for the monthly broadcast (and a cup of tea).   It is well worth watching - and starts with a little clip about our brothers and sisters in Armenia.
https://tv.jw.org/#en/mediaitems/StudioMonthly2019/pub-jwb_201903_1_VIDEO

It was a happy morning.    Jacks is coming round this evening - for chicken potatoes and veggies.  I am starting this blog Saturday evening.

Monday is sunny and blustery. There were wonderful waves on The Channel -  and  yesterday I did a seaside walk to the Pier- meeting one of our elders and his wife doing the same.  The meeting was so good. The talk was about Creation v Evolution - underlining the profound gap between Bible teaching and evolutionary theory.  And also the profound gap between what scientists now know and evolutionary theory.

Surely Darwin himself would not accept his theory now?  He honestly acknowledged problems with  it back then.

The Speaker explained and illustrated his talk so well, helping even a scientific dunce like myself to understand.   Poor Mr Capps, my maths teacher of long ago, went white when he realised I was in his maths O level class. 

They removed me to a lower grade exam after a while, for the sake of his sanity I expect.

I can now see, in a dim sort of way, that maths is a fascinating subject - but still can't understand it.

Its a sad thing about the school system - of my day anyway - that it tended to take in children, little sponges who long to soak up learning, and teach them that learning is both boring, and something that you get wrong and get told off about.

Being taught by Jehovah is such a lovely contrast.  Its a pleasure and a privilege.  And a privilege open to all who will avail themselves of it.

And may I say that Mr.Capps is one of the teachers I have fond memories of.  He may have got the whole class laughing at my hopeless attempts at sums, but he had me laughing along with them.

Another Lovely Review of "Waiting for Gordo"

A wonderful review.  A treasure.   Thank you so much Curtis Urness!   And thanks especially for finding it a good read - fun. That is what I wanted. 

And your review is a little work of art in itself.  I loved the "non-aggression treaty" for instance.

Curtis says:

When I first opened the pages of Waiting for Gordo, I was expecting a light-hearted vacation story, good for a few chuckles. While it certainly was that, the novel, like the mysterious island paradise that serves as its setting, turned out to be much more.

Miranda is on a diving holiday with her stalwart husband, Jim, and a group of expat British nationals (plus one American) at an Indian Ocean island resort. She is not there to explore the ocean deep with the others but to relax, enjoy the seclusion, and begin work on a novel. While she mines her friends’ gossip for story ideas, Miranda clearly prefers the company of her imaginary Hollywood alter-ego model for the heroine of her novel, Carmen Miranda, and Carmen’s equally imaginary suitor, Al Nino. Oh, and there’s also the Bathroom Cockroach, with whom she has negotiated a nonaggression treaty and who serves throughout the story as a winged objective correlative.

Just as every rose has its thorns, so does this island - plenty of them. It is called Small Island, but not only because it occupies a minute geographic space. There is some small terror lurking there that motivates the hired help to leave every evening rather than spend the night in its presence. Miranda senses it but cannot quite define its nature. Curious smells, such as sandalwood, permeate the air; curious creatures scuttle through the undergrowth. In the center of the atoll,  the palatial estate of the isle's owner, a wealthy Arab with a magical name, is surrounded by a magical name, is surrounded by a gated wall overgrown with thorns. Yes, there are literal thorns, which the island groundkeepers struggle to keep under control, and which pierce Miranda's tender skin. Meanwhile the weather is idyllic, and the diving is great.  Outside the periphery, a fierce storm rages, preventing Jim’s experienced diving partner, Gordo, and another group of tourists from arriving. Hence the title. Odd misfortunes start to befall the small group. The hired help and supplies become scarce.   Miranda knows she has some measure of protection, thanks to her pact with the Bathroom Cockroach, but inevitably she must come to terms with the malevolent force that threatens her existence.

As the action progresses, the narrative becomes even more fanciful and absurd. I am reminded of the writings of Polish-Argentinian author Witold Gombrowicz. A more contemporary comparison would be with the works of Neil Gaiman. Knight guides the reader along with reserved wit and irony. This is the most fun book I’ve read in a long time. If you’re looking to for an enjoyable read, you can’t go wrong by Waiting for Gordo.

https://www.goread.com/author/curtisurness/article/book-review-waiting-for-gordo-by-sue-knight/?fbclid=IwAR2p66PL5U2CE283wYtSKhvJGbOIc5JIWK0jk3tr1vEaIU7oVRnDELkp8Wo

.
Yesterday - what on earth did I do?   Is it all lost in the mists of time (unlike our childhood picnics on the moors which have just come back to me so vividly - see previous blog.)   We shopped in the morning, dropped Jackie's shopping in - lunched -  veggie soup - and thanks again Nute and Pen fort the soup machine.

I visited Maggie - and then I went out with one of the young pioneer sisters. I am listening and learning a lot from her -and she is fun to work with.

And Curtis, should you be reading this, I am so happy that you read and enjoyed my book.  And that you took the time to review it.  Thanks again.

Wildness and Wet, and Storm Freya

Sunday was a wonderful, wild, wet day as Storm Freya battered our coast. I drove back from the meeting at the Kingdom Hall past a Channel piling up wave upon wave upon wave.

The energy and the beauty of the creation  - and yet we only see a tiny part of it.  But what does it tell us about the power, the energy, and the artistry of its Grand Creator, Jehovah of armies, the God of Abraham..

It also put me in mind of a longtime favourite poem: 

Inversnaid  by Gerard Manley Hopkins

This darksome burn, horseback brown,
His rollrock highroad roaring down,
In coop and in comb the fleece of his foam
Flutes and low to the lake falls home.

A windpuff-bonnet of fáwn-fróth
Turns and twindles over the broth
Of a pool so pitchblack, féll-frówning,
It rounds and rounds Despair to drowning.

Degged with dew, dappled with dew
Are the groins of the braes that the brook treads through,
Wiry heathpacks, flitches of fern,
And the beadbonny ash that sits over the burn.

What would the world be, once bereft
Of wet and of wildness? Let them be left,
O let them be left, wildness and wet;
Long live the weeds and the wilderness yet.

Long live the weeds and the wilderness, the wildness and the wet - all part of the splendour and the glory of the creation.

Fast flowing peaty streams with their pitchblack pools were a part of my childhood on the Yorkshire moors and the Derbyshire Dales.  We used to picnic on the heather moorlands on a Sunday.  A wonderful playground.   In our earlier poorer days we went by bus, and later by car - at first a battered old Riley, with one door tied on with string.

Jackie joined us for fish and chips on Sunday night.  And the Chippie had run out of curry sauce!!   It had run out of curry sauce.  I am still in shock.  Its a Northern thing, and I suppose its also a First world problem, if only because no restaurant/chip shop/hotel on the sub-continent would EVER run out of curry sauce.  In fairness, they probably wouldn't serve it in the first place.

Apparently we are going to run out of everything the minute the Brexit happens - if it ever does.  In fact there is now so much scare-mongering going on among the chattering classes that I am having to be stern with myself and not get pushed into the Brexit camp.  They are getting so hysterical about it that I am starting to wonder.

However, I did not vote. And won't be voting if there is a second referendum.  And I must keep sternly reminding myself that whether we Brexit or Bremain makes not one jot of difference to Jehovah's wonderful purposes for the earth, and focus on that and stay neutral.

It is at least a good lesson in the unwisdom of trying to rule by referendum.  And perhaps yet another reminder that, as the Inspired Scriptures warn, "it does not belong to man who is walking even to direct his step."

We need the loving rule of the Kingdom of God, which will restore that link so fatally broken in Eden.

A Lamb or a Lion?

Isn't the saying that if March comes in like a lamb, it goes out like a lion - or vice versa.  Looking out the window on the 1st day of March - where I am starting this particular blog- it looks lamblike on the whole.  The Channel is a calm grey-blue, and a watery sun is beginning to shine.

So will there be a Lion-like roar to end the month?   Lets hope we are all here to find out.  It is still Friday and we have done Jackie's shopping (plus our own) and delivered it.

Jean and I made it to the group and did some first call work - not at homes - people who were not in when we called in the week.   We had a lovely morning, and also made a start on our magazine route calls.

We are offering this wonderful magazine on the doors worldwide this month:
https://www.jw.org/en/publications/magazines/awake-no1-2019-mar-apr/threats-safety-security/

You can read it online, or accept it at the doorstep, or take it from one of our literature carts.

It was a beautiful lamb-like morning - blue blue sky, full of fluffy white clouds.

Jacks is coming to join us for fish and chips tomorrow evening.