The English Channel was slate-grey on Thursday morning, the sea was roaring on the pebbles and there was quite a strong wind - not warm, not cold. I was able to sit out for 30 minutes, getting some sea air, and maybe a bit of sunshine too.
It is a lovely time to talk to Jehovah - to thank him for the oceans, and to ask for his help - and for his forgiveness - and to study his word - with all the power and the beauty of the sea in my ears and my eyes.
There are two witnesses to our Grand Creator. His creation, and his inspired word. The one tells us as clearly as if it spoke that there is a Creator, and the second tells us who our Creator is and what he requires of us.
Captain Moth-Butterfly spent Thursday detecting (and eating hot sausage rolls - one of the detectorists is a baker) and came limping back. Just at the moment he is watching a Rugby final between the English ladies and the NZ ladies. Apparently a Brit Lady has just been redcarded. Not good, I am guessing, from the cries of anguish coming from the armchair.
What can I say about the News? Apparently a senior policeman at the Met has been wearing a "menovest", so he can empathise with the problems of all menopausal ladies, as (I can dimly remember) we tend to get a bit hot and sweaty during the process.
So I have to assume that the increase in knife-crime, gang violence, the dangerous disruption of our motorways by mobs of the self-righteous, etc etc etc. is all caused by menopausal women. Who knew? At any rate, if that is the cause, the Met are well on the way to finding the solution...
This is an Alice-through-the Looking Glass world - only not as rational.
I made what in retrospect was not a good decision - to attend my postponed Physio appointment yesterday. Captain M-B said he would drive me, so I would be delivered right to the door. My left foot it still blistered and raw from the arthritis, but it seemed to be a bit better, so we got it into a pair of walking shoes and I went.
The new young Physio was very kind. She just chatted to me - gave me a version of one of the exercises more suited to my age (i.e. one that does not involved standing on something) - she had not realised how old I was. She has never seen me without my mask. (She has a shock in store!)
She has given me a follow up appointment 3 weeks from now, in the hopes that the heel might have healed by then.
Anyway, afterwards I was to ring Col and he would drive me back. Got outside Clinic - tried to phone him - phone would not work - it was telling me all sorts of things - but would not actually ring him. So I had no option but to start to walk home, very slowly and carefully.
It is not a long walk and one I would not have thought twice about a few years ago - but now... I was so relieved when Col and car drew up when I was halfway home. He had tried to ring me and realised that my phone was not working.
My hero, flying to my rescue - Captain SuperMoth!!
The problem of course is that it has not improved my foot any. My hands have been blistered for weeks now. I can only hope that my foot/feet will not go the same way.
I can walk round the flat, and can even do my exercises, but I cannot wear a shoe on my left foot. I am ordering a pair of soft slippers that might, at a distance, look like shoes, to see if I can get back to the Hall in them. But I see no hopes of getting out on the door to door preaching work. Unless of course it stays dry and the slippers I have ordered really do look like shoes.
Old age is so difficult. But I know I must be grateful I am still here. And I truly am. The older I get the more wonderful the gift of life seems, and the more interesting and fascinating everything gets. I am looking out over the English Channel as I finish this blog - a slightly restless sea under a watery sun - and it is so beautiful.
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