Cats and Snakes

This has been something of a cat Christmas.   We met Janet's cats - Bee and Tabs as they are currently being known -  for the first time, though it took a day or two before they warmed up enough to let us stroke them.  And they still tended to flee in terror anytime one of the visiting Monsters (us) moved too quickly or breathed too deeply.

We arrived in Sheffield on Wednesday last and arrived back in Littlehampton yesterday.

On Tuesday, we drove over the Snake to see Aunt Bea and family.

The Snake Pass (by me)

How beautifully

it winds and wends

the way to Bea's

and back again.

Going backwards to Monday, we went to Jen's - Captain B, Nute, Kathryn and myself - for a delicious veggie lunch - which has become something of a tradition now.  No Ken this year though...  but as long as he is safe in Jehovah's memory, he has a wonderful awakening from the dreamless sleep of death ahead of him. 

Sunday was the big family day, with the Derby mob, the Lilac Tree Farm mob (minus Penny and George - George not too well), and the Derby mob (sans Sami, who is spending the holiday with friends).  Young Harry also came and coped as calmly as usual in the sea of bossy little girls.  We had a buffet, with (what else?) cold turkey, two delicious trifles and a choc log (thank you Helen and Nadine), which worked well as people arrived in relays and ate when they came.

The Day itself was quiet, just 6 of us - which was easier for me as i try to avoid the trappings of Christmas as much as possible  - with a superb turkey dinner cooked by Nute, in spite of a severely damaged thumb.  Trimming of Xmas tree, secaturs, bloodbath, stitching at Casualty required.   And I have already forgotten what we did on the Friday.  Prepared veggies I expect, and Col and Nute went to pick up the turkey from the Real Meat Company Shop.  Plus i was able to pop in to the morning Field Service meeting, courtesy of Zoom.  Thursday was similar - sans turkey - and also I attended the congregation meeting in the evening and found I am on the School this week!  So a bit of time was spent trying to sort that one out, resulting in a Zoom practise with my partner yesterday evening.

I have managed to leave a folder full of papers including my address book behind at the bungalow so am without my contacts.  Nute says she will post it on to me.  I have also managed to bring back one of her towels. Rather a nice one actually that fits my new bathroom very well.  So I thought I had better own up to it in this blog, which she will be reading. So, Nute, if you need it posted, let me know.  Otherwise it will come back with us on our next visit, or you can pick it up on your next visit.

I can only think I am now very out of practise re packing and coming and going.  Or maybe its my age...  you can blame a lot of idiocy on that I find.

Hopefully we were very careful Covid-wise for the whole visit and we all flow-tested ourselves.  

As this will be my last blog for 2021, I must say goodbye to the year.  It has been an odd one, another Covid year, and therefore very difficult for many people.  But it was another year of life, another year of learning more about our loving Creator, Jehovah - and another year of being able to try to tell people about him.  So I am very grateful for it.

What will 2022 bring?  I hope we are all there to find out.  Our part in the Ministry school this week is about the hope that the good news of the Kingdom of God gives us.  And I guess we will need that hope more than ever as the year goes on.

The Pale Horse

I am busy re-reading Agatha Christie's "The Pale Horse"  - which is such an assured and entertaining thriller.  As I have read it many times, I know who did it and why but still can't remember all the details (looks like a perfect alibi to me). But it is so entertaining and it might inspire me to try again to write an Agatha.

And of course it takes its title from one of the riders in the Book of Revelation.  The pub  and villain's lair (spoiler alert, though not really) is called "The Pale Horse".  And I did call the pub in my (advert alert) Disraeli Hall" "The Coat" - full name "The Coat of Many Colours".  Maybe I was partly inspired by this Christie, but it may have been more because I had named the road after Benjamin Disraeli, so a Jewish theme suggested itself.

Obviously I have been thinking about Christmas - the season of peace on earth and goodwill to all men...?  A question:  If Jehovah wanted us to celebrate Jesus' birthday, wouldn't he have had made the date clear to us?   The Seventy Weeks prophecy in the Book of Daniel told the Jews the exact year the Messiah would arrive, but specifies neither month nor day.  And Jesus asked us to commemorate his sacrificial death, not his birth.

I also wonder if the concentration on Jesus as a helpless baby in a crib helps to distract us from thinking about what Jesus is actually doing now, as a powerful king - the King of Jehovah's Kingdom.  If so, then could it be a lethal distraction, as that is what we urgently need to be thinking about?

I found out last Thursday that I have a part in this Thursday's School, though I am a householder, not the one who has to write the script.  We are going to get together in Zoom to sort it out on Wednesday night.

Its the Summary Review, as follows (and my partner will be working on the point "Making it understandable"):

SUMMARY

The Bible gives us hope and helps us to cope with challenges by promising a future filled with happiness.

Review

• Why do people need hope?

• What does the Bible say about the future?

• How can having a hope for the future help you now.

And how much we need a hope for the future.   Isn't it why we need to understand what Jesus is doing now, as the King of God's Kingdom, and work alongside him in the Kingdom preaching work?

My First Flow Test for Covid

Feeling as if I had a bit of a cold, we did do a couple of Covid flow tests. What a kerfuffle.  However, it seems we got it right, the right sort of line appeared on the appropriate thingummy, and for the moment anyway, we are Covid free.  The situation with the new variant - Omicrom - seems to be that it is much more infectious, but possibly less serious. And it does seem - so far - that vaccinations plus booster is effective in keeping it, well not at bay, you can still get it, but in a mild form.

Early days though...

We actually went and did a bit of shopping on Thursday.  Very very difficult as as soon as I put on my mask to go into a shop, my glasses steam up.  I take them off and can see nothing without them.  I gave up after half an hour and not much got bought.  I am still doing my exercises and still being crushed by the crisp packet.  "One day!" I cry, as it wins again.

The world - the current system of things on the earth - continues in its (un)merry way, with a shortage of peace on earth and goodwill to all men.

Here are the experiences of one of my dear Russian sisters, Yelena Menchikova:

"The investigator denied Yelena’s petition to dismiss the case after she explained her actions by quoting from the Bible. According to the investigator, it was the use of Biblical texts that confirmed the “criminal nature” of her activities."

https://www.jw.org/en/news/jw/region/russia/Faithful-Examples-and-Prayer-to-Her-Best-Friend-Jehovah-Strengthen-Sister-Yelena-Menchikova/

Is it a tribute to the power of the Bible that it attracts such hostility?  And given that it is a book that teaches us to "lay down" our weapons, to try to live peacefully with our neighbours, and to treat everyone with the kindness and respect we would want for ourselves, where is the "criminal nature"?

The Shearing Shed

On Saturday morning I trekked down to Malcolm for a haircut.  I returned exhausted with a lot less hair, which was the whole point. Malcolm has had his difficulties through our Lockdown.  Captain B had left very early with Jim - 4.30 alarm clock - for his detectorist trip to Who Knows Where.  Somewhere near Salisbury Plain I think. 

We had our Circuit Assembly on Sunday, in Zoom of course.  The theme was: STRENGTHEN YOUR FAITH - which is so timely, in the face of all that is happening - and all that will yet happen as the current wicked system of things on the earth rushes towards its end, doing all it can to take us down with it.  

I took notes as we went along and I am trying to decipher them now. Because I do remember noting down a couple of things I would like to include in my blog. Hmmmm  - did I take notes, or did a bevy of drunken spiders fall into a bottle of ink and rush all over my big notebook?  It's hard to tell.

The photo is of a Cricket Bat Orb-weaver Spider and was, of course, taken by Captain B.  Whether it has ink on its feet or not, I cannot tell.

In the talk FAITH FOLLOWS THE THINGS HEARD, I (or the spiders) made a little note to myself to mention one of the Scriptures in the blog.  It is Romans 10:13,14, which says:  "For everyone who calls on the name of Jehovah will be saved. However, how will they call on him if they have not put faith in him?  How, in turn, will they put faith in him about whom they have not heard?  How, in turn, will they hear without someone to preach?"

And one very powerful reason for putting faith in Jehovah is the prophecy in the Bible, so much of which has already been fulfilled, down to the last detail.  But how you can you know that unless someone tells you?  I had an intensive religious education, but knew next to nothing about what the Bible said.  

I hope to include another point or two from the Circuit Assembly in my next blogs.  

Sunday night, having returned from his Treasure Hunting and had his tea (steak pie with veggies), the Captain had to rush into his phone box, don his Lowland Rescue Gear, and fly off to the rescue of someone in trouble in our coastal lowlands.  "Is it a butterfly?  Is it a plane? Or is it CAPTAIN BUTTERFLY fluttering to the rescue?!" Though he had to fly straight back again, as the Misper (Missing Person to you and me) suddenly turned up safe and well at home.  

A happy ending.

Winter Haiku

Dan won Professional Masterchef - though how they picked one out of those 3 brilliant finalists - Aaron, Dan and Liam - I do not know.    "Sea urchin on toast for supper?" I suggested.  "No thanks", said Captain B, "I'm off down the Chip Shop." - To be fair the sea urchin on toast menu, though pronounced "delicious", did not make it to the final.

I feel like starting to write again - and am hoping to find some inspiration for a small poem, so here is one from a master of the form:

  Winter solitude by Matsuo Basho

Winter solitude--
in a world of one color
the sound of wind.

Can this inspire me to a Haiku of my own - one that will convey the damp, rather grey and too warm winters we seem to be getting?  What would typify winter now?  Lots of snowy cards and a ton of old movies with Christmas in the title, but no actual snow?  A world full of colour in the form of glittering fairy lights maybe?

Covid Winter... if we are locked down again before Christmas it would be something along the lines of "the silence of cash registers" in 17 well chosen syllables.  But can they lock us down again - as so many business rely on their Christmas cash boost?

Anyway here goes, a Covid Winter Haiku from MatSue Knighto:

Winter dankness--

in a world of fairy lights

the sound of solitude.

Mind you, I am a solitary soul - people make me nervous - and why does anyone, ever, want to have, or to go to a party?  Yet, as most people do, it is clearly me who is out of step.  So this Haiku should not be seen as a lament.   Anyway, as a Jehovah's Witness I would be happy not to have Christmas at all, apart from the family get together side of it, of course.

And I guess I should be humble and admit that I am no Matsuo Basho.  It's fun trying though. He gives me a standard to aspire to. And here is a lovely point from Thursday's Scripture for the day:  We remember that if we are to be truly useful to Jehovah, our humility should exceed our ability. 

So true, because unless we do things Jehovah's way, which means taking the time and effort to find out who our Creator is and what he requires of us, all our best efforts will be futile in the end.

Funerals - and Fungi

Lovely fungi foto by Captain B of a Wrinkled Peach - but is there an unfortunate metaphor there.  Surely not? Surely I am as young and lovely as I ever was?   Oh dear.   Though I must also say that I am more appreciative of the wonderful gift of life every day that goes by.

That crisp packet still remains undented despite all my efforts at the "Crush the Crisp Packet" exercises. In fact I am wondering if I have gone and picked a packet that has been instructed to do some "Crush the Spine" exercises by its physio.

We both had Zoom chats with our siblings on Monday. All seems well - the cats have not appeared on camera yet, nor been allowed out, but they continue to settle in.  We are hearing from family and friends daily which is nice, and I am trying to reply to all with the new cards Col has had made from some of his many splendid photos.

Another tiny child has been tortured to death, under the nose of our Orwellian "care" system.  Star Hobson was tormented by her mother and the mother's brutal girlfriend. In plain view - they videoed some of it apparently. Once again I cannot bear to read much beyond the headlines.  Severe bruising, many doctors visits, and once again the grandparents tried to sound the alarm with the Social Workers, but were ignored and brushed off.  Though the tabloids today are suggesting worse. They allege they were told they were being "bigoted" by making these complaints and trying to save this small child from being beaten to death.   What a rotten rotten system it is - I mean the whole world system.  And how much we need the loving rule of the Kingdom of God. 

I attended a funeral on Tuesday, for Steve.  In Zoom, and in shining contrast.  He was a loving husband, father, grandfather, brother, son.  The short and touching - and funny - memorial was full of pictures of him and his family and you could see what a loving family he had, and hear it in their memories of him.  If only every child  on earth had a father like Steve.  

One day, of course, they will.  

I hope little Star will when Jehovah wakes her from the dreamless sleep of death. Her life with her mother was a nightmare, but there will be no more nightmares for her. And held safe in "the everlasting arms", - safe in Jehovah's memory, every hair of her head numbered - she could not be with someone who loves her more.

In the Bleak Midwinter

Not that it is bleak exactly, or particularly cold.  It is a grey coldish day so far (8.37 a.m. as I start this blog) and the Channel is grey and fairly calm. And pretty cold I would imagine.

I found this poem for December:

AN INTERVIEW  by John B Tabb

I sat with chill December

Beside the evening fire

"And what do you remember",

I ventured to inquire,

"Of seasons long forsaken?"

He answered in amaze

"My age you have mistaken 

 I've lived but thirty days".

https://discoverpoetry.com/poems/december-poems/

Poor Captain B is limping along now, so we are a matching pair.  Too much metal detecting - not as young as he was - I say - but he won't have it, and roared off very early this morning to some distant field with Jim and the lads.  And who can blame him?  Just yesterday we were a young married couple...   Yes, we are in the Winter of our lives, yet we have lived but thirty days it seems.   

As the book of Ecclesiastes tell us, Jehovah has put eternity into our hearts.  We were originally made to live forever.

Ecclesiastes 3:11 says:  "He has made everything beautiful in its time.+ He has even put eternity in their heart; yet mankind will never find out the work that the true God has made from start to finish."

So we will never stop learning - wonderful things, new things. It is a thought to hold onto through difficult times. And we have the help of the Sunday morning meeting coming up, via Zoom. The title of the public talk is: A Cleansed Earth, Will You Live to See it?

I hope we all will

We had a long Zoom chat with Julia 1, and have an invite to stay with her again the next time we make it up North.   I have no idea when that might be though given the state of the Covid crisis.  It is not at all clear what happens next, whether we are heading for the mild flu-like version or yet another lockdown.

Time will tell. In the meantime, we continue to be careful.

Storm Barra

Storm Barra arrived on Tuesday.  The sea was calm before dawn under a  sky full of clouds, but by noon it was roaring away like a million freight trains and the waves were spectacular.  Our snow fell as rain, but it was snowing in other parts.   The Captain gallantly struggled out to post my latest  letters, which included a card to a sister who has just lost her husband.  I cannot imagine...   We have sent her a card with a picture of Irises, made from one of Bea's silk paintings.  

I have also done letters/cards for Pete and Barbara, Richard and Gale, and Rob and Judy. 

My trip to physio has crippled me. Somehow i managed to rub my foot sore - I am no longer used to wearing shoes.  And a few days of these very mild exercises, in which my strongest efforts have not managed to put even one dent in a crisp packet. have left me hobbling round with very sore knees.

On Wednesday morning we woke to find a calm sea outside. And still no snow. Amazing how it can calm down.  The metal detectorists were probably out on the beach as who knows what the immense seas of Barra might have thrown up.  I would love to go and do a bit of beachcombing myself but I can't even make it downstairs at the moment.

The Captain was off on a rather grim search and rescue yesterday. They are looking for the body of a murder victim. I can say no more than that, I don't really know any more than that. It is kept very quiet for obvious reasons.  So I had to take in the Waitrose order by myself. If I had thought ahead I would have asked for it to come in plastic bags. We do without and Col loads it into large plastic containers, brings them to the kitchen while i unload them as fast as I can,  and then I bring the empties back for a refill.  It was going to be a long process without him...

To continue the story - and I hope the excitement and suspense of my supermarket delivery isn't proving too much for my more sensitive readers - maybe I should have included a Trigger Warning? - all went well.  The guy who delivered them was very kind. He took one look at me and did all the unloading himself into the plastic containers Col had kindly left ready by the door.  And when I apologised for not being thoughtful enough to  ask for it to be in plastic bags this time - which would have been much easier for him to unload - he told me that they did not do plastic bags anymore.  So - no regrets.

My day was reasonably productive.  Field service in the morning - the meeting and then working with a sister afterwards for an hour or so.  And I caught up on correspondence and paperwork in the afternoon.

I creaked slowly through my exercises - with the crisp packet yet again wrestling me to the floor.

The power of the waves of Storm Barra made me think of the power behind the creation, the English Channel being just a speck in a vast universe, and yet full of such energy.  The Inspired Scriptures tell us that matter - the universe - comes from energy - Jehovah's dynamic energy.  When we look up into a clear night sky we can get a dizzying glimpse of the energy behind creation:

        “Lift up your eyes to heaven and see.

Who has created these things?

It is the One who brings out their army by number;

He calls them all by name.

Because of his vast dynamic energy and his awe-inspiring power,

Not one of them is missing."  (Isaiah 40:26)

No Crisps were Harmed in the Making of this Blog

And that is just the problem. They should have been.  One of the exercises my kind young physio gave me is called - actually - "Crush the crisp packet".  You stand against a door and put a packet of crisps in the hollow of your back and in some mysterious way using your abdominal muscles, you crush them.

I have been huffing and puffing away all weekend, but not a crisp has been crushed as yet.  I don't think I have even put a crack in them.

There is a small boat travelling fast across the water - Eastwards - as I begin this blog, early Sunday morning. I can just see a light progressing over the dark water.

Col's 2022 Calendars - from his fish photos - came and copies have already been dispatched to family and friends.  The pic above is one of my favourites.  It is a Threespot Angelfish, and is Mr (or Ms) July 2022.

I am having a discussion with a friend from Uni days - an old friend obviously - about how long mankind has been on the earth.  The Bible is very specific about it, because of the genealogical tables which go back to Adam.  Jesus has a complete genealogy.  We have been here for just over 6,000 years.

The earth itself is very very much older than Adam according to Genesis - and that is at least something we can agree on.

Two more friends from our expat years have been in contact, both Julias.  We are hoping to arrange a Zoom chat with Julia 1 in the week.  I have already sent her one of Col's new cards, and hope to get one off mid month to Julia 2 to welcome her to her new home.   While I hope they are both doing well, I also hope they are thinking seriously about the state of the world.  Not only are the powers that be telling us that the planet is very close to ruin, but it is the day to day horrors which come so thick and fast. 

The torture and murder of six year old Arthur Labinjo-Hughes at the hands of his father and stepmother has been haunting the headlines.  It took place under the nose of our "care" services.  They pair have at least both been jailed for a long long time.  

The system of things on the earth is so cruel, but it won't be when tiny Arthur next opens his eyes.  He will find himself in an earth ruled by the law of loving-kindness.   One of the heartbreaking videos his tormentors recorded (apparently, I did not watch them and tried not to read beyond the headlines) was of him sobbing and saying that nobody loved him.

When Jehovah wakes Arthur from the dreamless sleep of death, he will be loved and will know he is loved.   And Jehovah assures us that "distress will not rise up a second time".  Never again will we be living in a tragedy.

In the meantime, held safe in "the everlasting arms", safe in God's memory, Arthur could not be with someone who loves him more.

The Cats get their Paws under the Table

The cats' names are Layla and Abra. They are mother and daughter, and they are continuing to settle in judging by the latest bulletin on facebook:

The cats are settling in, spurning anything but the most expensive food, stopping me going to sleep by squawking outside the bedroom door until I let them in, and generally showing signs of getting their feet under the table. Maybe they'll be visible next meeting xxx

We may actually see them at the next Zoom meeting!   By the time we visit, they will be ruling the household with a rod of iron  - clattering in and out through the catflap in the guest bedroom all hours of the night, trampling over us before settling on the bed, and nipping us sharply if we dare to fidget just as they are falling sleep.   Just like old times in fact.

Captain B arranged the family flowers for Janet's funeral next week - we chose a spray that will include lilies.   But, thank God - and also thanks to Nute and Pen - it seems that her cats are settling happily in their lovely new home, which would matter more to her than all the flowers in the world.

The Covid crisis continues, with the new variety already in from South Africa.  However, if this proves to be a milder form, one we can all safely catch and recover from, it could mark the end of the pandemic.  Its too early to tell yet though, and masks have been made compulsory again in most public places.  They are worn in all medical venues as a matter of course now.

Given my front toothless state, that is a bit of a selfish silver lining,

And now its December. Once again I ask, who is shortening these years?  They used to last forever it seemed, now they are gone in a matter of weeks.

Thursday (as I am starting this blog) I have my first physio session which I am dreading. It also means I will have to drive for the first time in over a year as I can no longer walk that far, which is why I need the physio. The idea is to strengthen the muscles in my back, as they cannot give me a replacement spine.  And I should not have been so scared, the physio was lovely and she was very helpful. I now have a series of 3 exercises to do - one of which Captain B will need to help me with.  And I am booked to see her again in January.  

However, here is the thing to hold on to, the promise from our Creator, Jehovah, that he will "make all things new". That includes, of course, our damaged and dying bodies.  Think what Jesus did when he was on the earth, how he healed people.  Wasn't he showing us what he can and will do when he is ruling over the earth as the King of God's Kingdom?