Please Buy our Books

 

 

I had hoped to make two trays of marmalade muffins for the brothers and sisters working on the Kingdom Hall this week, but somehow it did not happen.  Not only am I failing - having just had an intensive medical week involving a new med - but my hand mixer broke down as well, and I ran out of muffin cases. 

It was not old age in the mixer's case. We only bought it two years ago!

I did manage to make one batch, hopefully OK, and was able to send some store-bought biscuits to go along with it.  Biscuits in the English, not the American, sense.

On a more cheerful note, when the Captain rang from one of his outings he said how lovely the cake in his lunch box was.  "It seems to get better and better".  And, yes, it was the carrot cake, and it does get more tasty for keeping, and I made it weeks ago. It was then portioned and frozen for use as needed.

Got a card from Lilian and her sister Elaine this week. And also one from Peter - the husband of my friend Anne Marie.  I still miss her. I would have loved to share my books with her. She found the only short story she read - The Ecclesall Witch Project - very funny.  Its not in Umbrellas though, as it wouldn't make sense unless you know Ecclesall woods in Sheffield and the impossibility of getting lost in their dark fastness. Even I couldn't get myself lost in there.

Which does give me a chance to put my PleaseBuyMyBooks hat on and mention that my books, along with those of the other Fantastic Book authors will be on sale at the York Book Fair today, should any of you, my dear blogreaders, happen to find yourself in the vicinity.

Mr and Mrs Captain Butterfly on their Balcony

 

We made this little selfie video a couple of weeks ago at the request of the Canada Branch of the Butterfly diaspora. Greetings for Malcolm came in from as far as NZ.  You can hear the Channel softly roaring in the background.  Now if we had done it this week you would not have been able to hear anything but the Channel. There is a storm on - wonderful waves outside our window.

All that power, all that energy.  And how I could do with some of it.  I failed yet again to get myself to the meeting on Sunday morning in person.  I need to re-think and re-strategise.

In the meantime, I am so grateful for the Zoom provision.

It means I can not only attend the meetings, but take part in them too.  As can all of us who are housebound, or intermittently housebound.

It is comforting that we are so carefully provided for  - a reminder that Jehovah cares for all his people.

Tuesday was the first of my three medical things this week. We drove to a local hospital through sun and rain alternating - no rainbow seen though - and saw young Dr.Ali. She is very sweet and is trying her best to help. She has suggested an intensification of one of my meds and will see me again in 6 months. She will also speak to Rheumatology, who I see on Friday. I have another local doctor's visit to accomplish tomorrow, as does Captain B.

Dr. Ali was wearing lovely shoes, both smart and comfortable, as befits a very pretty and hardworking lady.  My shoes can only be sensible these days, alas, but I can still admire a stylish shoe.

Barton in the Beans

 

Barton in the Beans

by Joanne Limburg

For comfort on bad nights

open out a map of Middle England

and sing yourself to sleep

with a lullaby of English names:

Shouldham Thorpe, in gentle sunshine,

Swadlincote, in a Laura Ashley frock,

Little Cubley, veins running with weak tea'

Kibworth Beauchamp, praying on protestant knees,

Ashby-de-la-Zouch, saying 'Morning',

Wigston Parva, smiling - but not too widely,

Ramsey Mereside, raising an eyebrow,

Eye Kettleby, where they'd rather not talk about it,

Market Overton, echoing with the slamming doors

of Cold Overton, where teenagers flee every night to their rooms,

screaming that from Appleby Magna to Stubbers Green

they never met a soul who understood.

They never met a soul.

At Barton in the Beans, the rain says Ssssshhhhh...

I was reminded of this poem, which I have loved for many years, because of the names of the two roads I have been given to work. I have to do my preaching work by letter these days, as I can no longer walk well enough to go door to door. They are new roads, on a new estate, and one is a "Chase", the other is a "Grove".

Was there ever a hunting party that regularly hunted on that "Chase"? Was there ever a grove of trees where this "Grove" now stands?

Didn't those terms mean something once, as the name Barton in the Beans did?

I was thinking for instance of Ramsbottom - a numinous name from my childhood as it was close to my Granny's - and a name that has nothing to do with sheep and their rear ends, but means a valley of wild garlic. See Col's photo of Ramsons Wild Garlic above.

It is not a name that is likely to be poached for some new road on some new estate though - not upmarket enough.

Words, which should be full of import, are being drained of their meaning it seems. And is that all helping to cut us off from our past, leaving us adrift in a meaningless present?

In contrast, Jehovah uses words with great care - and we need to pay attention to everything he has told us in the Inspired Scriptures. Every word is important - vitally important. We are so close to the moment described at Daniel 2:44. Please look it up, and think about it. And if and when you do, bear in mind that the Seventy Weeks prophecy in Daniel not only told the Jews the exact year the Messiah would appear as he did - but warned them what would happen afterwards - as it did.

We can be sure of the rescue Jehovah has promised. But we do need to take hold of it.

We had a visitor on Saturday afternoon. One of the old boys from Col's recent School reunion. "Old" being the operative word these days. When we had all caught up on each other's health issues over tea and biscuits, we plan to meet up in a year or so when he and his wife have sold up in the Philippines and moved back to the South of England.

Catching Moments in Time

MOTHER OF WATER
by me


A blue spotted fish, swimming on the step,
Seeing me, nervously backs off
A turtle, rising out of the green deep,
Stares at me, and swiftly sinks away.
He’s worried that I might attempt to hold him
And all the thoughts that come up in my head
Melt just as quickly into heat
Before I can stir myself to know them.


FRANGIPANI BLOSSOM
by me

Frangipani blossom in a plastic cup
And the sprinklers singing
In the cool morning air

As the sun revs up.


I have blogged these poems before, but not for some years. They are moments in time from one of our early trips to Thailand that would have long vanished from my mind had I not written these little poems.

Will they inspire me to catch a few more moments in time in verse, which I still try to do occasionally.  But now that I hope to "inherit the earth"and live forever upon it, catching the moments as they fly past does not seem so important as it did in the days when I felt there were so few of them and my life was flying by so quickly.

I couldn't find a blue spotted fish in Col's photo gallery - and I can't even remember what the fish looked like - just that it was small, with blue spots, and it swam briefly onto the water covered step just below the step my feet were resting on.  But I did find a photo of a turtle. I don't know if its the same kind of turtle I saw in the Chao Phraya river. I just remember it was small, and I only really saw its head as it popped out of the muddy water, the same colour as the water, in my brief glimpse.

It gave me the metaphor for the poem, as it made me think of how the thoughts that came up just melted away in the steamy heat.

Tuesday I did manage to get some things done - made a rather uninspiring veggie and bean stew out of all the remaining veggies before our next order of fruit and veg arrived.  Did some witnessing, Zoomed to the field service group, washed the bathroom floor and cleaned the fridge. Wednesday I made the now routine apple crumble - along with a sugar-free jelly for me.

Do I see any moments there that inspired me to catch them in a poem?  Not really, but who knows?          

Dreaming of Chuck and Mary

 

A poem from our first years in Saudi:

I TRY TO IMAGINE RAIN

by me

We are scorched into our bed of sand

By the cloudless sky and pounding Arabian sun

“Its raining here, and still very cold”

Each week they write to us from home.

So I try to imagine “Rain” and “Cold”.

Did Heaven turn all its sprinklers on?

And, as for “cold”, - well, family,

Don’t just sit there shivering

Go and turn down the air-conditioning!

I dreamt about Chuck and Mary the other night.  In the dream Col had decided we were going back to Saudi to work and suddenly there we were, having supper with Chuck and Mary in their big hospitable house and Col was asking them to supper with us the next night. I was thinking that I must get out some of my old recipes - something with rice - and beginning to wonder how I was now going to cope with it all.

Whereupon I woke up. And it was quite sad as it had been such a vivid dream that it took me a few minutes to realise that Chuck and Mary are gone - have been gone for some time.  We never got to visit them in Texas.  Anyway, I chose this picture from Col's photo gallery of one of our winter camping trips.  Mary used to bring her excellent chile and cornbread and Col would build a fire and we would sit round it. The desert can be very cold at night. And its hard to eat in the desert until the sun goes down, as it doesn't matter how remote and empty the area is the moment you get any food out in daylight swarms of flies materialise from nowhere.

The time of Chuck and Mary is one of the memory layers of our expat life. We had many trips together - to the desert, to Bahrain, and even dove the Barrier Reef together - well me by submarine, they by scuba. And I saw more than they did.  And poor Mary was so cold. In Saudi, even the water from the "cold" tap was warm.

I don't know if they still run those min-sub trips or not as, fascinating though they were, I seem to remember that we did bump and scrape the reef a bit.  It was a long time ago of course, autre temps, autre moeurs (which I hope I have spelt right).

And of course, once the Kingdom of God is ruling over the earth, all will be brought back into the harmony it had in Eden - and we will be able to see and enjoy the reef without doing any harm. Nor will the critters of the reef harm us.

And of course I hope that Jehovah will wake Chuck and Mary from the dreamless sleep of death, and they will see this lovely earth, this splendid universe again.

Friday I had a late start, took me ages to get going. I moved on with my Bible reading - watching the introduction of the Book of Judges.  We learn so much from that book - for one, how patient Jehovah was with the Jews, when they were his chosen people - which is a patience all us damaged children of Adam badly need. I made a big veggie/lentil/curry stew for our lunch for the next couple of days. And we had a phone call from Bea and a letter from Kathryn. And, another plus, an email from Pen to say she had Zoomed to my small part in the school on Thursday and enjoyed it.

So another day, another good day, and it's all a bonus at my age.

Snow - and - A Part in the School

 

I had a part in the School on Thursday night, Part 4, a 2 minuter. The Script, with the brief as its heading, is here:

November 2025    4. Starting a Conversation

(2 min.) HOUSE TO HOUSE. Use a jw.org contact card to start a conversation. (lmd lesson 4 point 4)

4. Make clear that the Bible is the source of the truths you share. God’s Word contains thoughts that touch people’s hearts. When we use it, we are building their faith on the right foundation.

**************

Sue:  Good morning.  I am Sue Knight, one of Jehovah’s Witnesses. I can see you are just about to go out, but do you have a moment?

HH:  I’m waiting for my taxi.  I thought you were it!  

Sue:  Oh, then of course I won’t keep you. Could I leave this card with you, in case you would like to know why it is we call.  My contact details are on the back, and it also directs you to our excellent website, JW.org.

HH:  Well, OK.  But look I don’t want to waste your time, I’m really not interested.  I know you witnesses feel that the world is soon going to end, and I agree we are making such a mess of it, but even so I am much more positive than that. I think the planet will survive.

Sue:  Oh - and so do we I assure you, because that is what the Bible tells us.  If you remember Jesus famously said that the meek would inherit “the earth” - and when he said that he was confirming the lovely promises in the Hebrew Scriptures, or Old Testament.  Just let me show you this one, if I may.  It’s at Psalm 37:29, and it says: The righteous will possess the earth, And they will live forever on it.

The righteous will possess the earth and they will live forever on it.  That is our guarantee that the earth will not be destroyed, as wouldn’t it be a bit difficult to live on it forever if there was no earth left?

HH:  Well - fair enough I suppose.  But actually I thought the Bible was all about going to heaven when you die. Which doesn’t sound very likely to me either.

Sue: Yes, I thought that for many years. It was such a revelation to me when I found out what the Bible actually says - a wonderful revelation. And this is why we offer a free home Bible course to all who will accept one. We want everyone to know.  Oh, here is your taxi, and I don’t even know your name. 

HH:  It’s HH.

Sue: Then please do have a look at our website HH. Think about that Bible Course and you are so welcome to contact me if you would like to talk some more about this.

There was snow in the North this week, and a brief sleet/snow slurry here on Wednesday. But for sure it has got much colder.  So I thought I would search the Captain's photo gallery for a snow shot - one from Sheffield maybe - and I found this from Endcliffe Vale Park in winter.

The Hull branch of the family sent a photo through of the garden at Lilac Tree Farm covered in snow.  It looked so lovely.

Please Buy our Books, Part 2

I really must make an effort and try to get some book sales, and hopefully sales for my fellow Fantastic Books authors too, as they are all so good - providing masses of good reads.  And our books, and some of our authors, will be appearing at the York Book Fair on December 6th.  

Mark Henderson who writes a lot about the Peak District will be there.  His books have taught me so much about the country of my childhood, its landscape and its legends.

He also writes some interesting fiction.  I reviewed Perilaus II in this blogpost:

https://sueknight2000.blogspot.com/2023/06/perilaus-ii-by-mark-p-henderson.html

It's a thriller, but also made me laugh. Here, for example, is the author, trapped in the world of his book, driving a strange car:

"My relationship with the Land Rover encountered teething troubles. Its controls were in unaccustomed places. An elderly Sunday driver in a hat, nodding dog in the back window, challenged my patience. Irritated by her adagio manoeuvres, I bruised my fist on a part of the steering column that was innocent of horn and then washed my windscreen at her."

This is what I have tried to do in Disraeli Hall, make it scary, but also funny. It is set in Mark Henderson territory, as Disraeli Hall is sited on the very edge of the Peak Park. 

The inspiration for the book was the lost world of Nabbs Cottage - bigged-up into Disraeli Hall -  and hopefully I conveyed something of it. The second staircase, the darkness at its foot, play a big part. But the book took off in a different direction from the one I had expected.

And as all these layers of memory change all the time as we get older and older, if I were ever to revisit the two houses of my childhood in fiction again, no doubt it would take yet another unexpected turn.

Our lives are so short now.  Our threescore years and ten go by so quickly. Didn't a poet compare it to the flight of a sparrow through the mead hall - a brief moment of warmth and light between darkness and darkness.

If we are all in the restored earthly paradise, with everlasting life ahead of us, I doubt we will want to think back too much on the tragedy we have all been living in since the loss of Eden.  But won't we be building new memories, layer upon layer, with no sadness in them, no regrets?

And how will that feel... I can't really imagine, but once again I hope so much we are all  there to find out.

Well, one bit of good health news - an increasingly rare commodity in old age. Yesterday was my 6 monthly dental check up, and my kind, if stern, dentist told me I was doing OK, and has given me some advice about regularly using a fluoride mouthwash to try to ward of the problem that my sicca (dry mouth, dry eyes) will cause, given there is no real medical answer to it.

But no dental work needed to be done.  Hurray!  Grateful for that. Very. (As Mr. Alfred Jingle might have put it.)

Fear of Flying

THE FLAT FIELDS OF HOLLAND

 by me

The flat fields of Holland
suddenly tilt and fall away from us
Take-off, Schipol, Amsterdam
God, we are all now in your hands.

I have never flown in one of the contraptions above - and have no plans to!  I found it in the Captain's photo gallery. Anyway, my flying days are over - unless I am, as I hope to be, in the earthly paradise and we travel on planes there - but I realise I would be much more nervous now if I did fly.  Although there is not a lot of point worrying once you are up there. There is nothing you can do after all.  It stays up, by some miracle (insofar as I can understand it), or it doesn't.

We had one near miss, that I know of, in our Maldives days, when our driver had to emergency stop the plane just as it reached takeoff speed. We were taking off from the tiny Maldives Airport Island, so he had very little leeway. We all thought we were going into the sea and tried to brace ourselves as best we could (the seats were very rattly).  We flew very cheap in those days.  However he managed to halt it just in time, hurtled round and went for take-off again, this time making it. Though we hit a patch of turbulence as soon as we got up and once again we all thought that was it.

The existence of this blog is of course a spoiler alert.  We did indeed stay in the air and make it all the way to the Emirates. However we were stopped there as the pilot had damaged the landing gear when he did the emergency stop and the plane was grounded. We had to wait for another plane to arrive. It was a long night, but we all got there safely, which is the thing.

But Fear of Driving might have been a better title for this blog in that I had to drive my little red car on Thursday for the first time in months - eyes/cataracts/cataract surgery.  Very nervous even though it was only round the corner to the doctor's for yet another blood test - somewhere I could have walked to just a few years ago.

Another spoiler alert - I did make it. Thank God.  But the parking would have been impossible if I hadn't had my blue badge. There was nothing on the road, nothing in the surgery carpark, so I drove round the road to the Disabled Parking outside the library. Which was available.  And while it meant a bit of a hobble, I had my stick with me and made it to the surgery early.

How different things are now from our early retirement years.  But I am very grateful for all of them, and so grateful still to be here - and to be able to see the small yet dramatic sunrise over the Channel this morning. The sky is heavy with cloud, except for the Eastern corner where the rising sun is beginning to announce itself.

Once again I asked Jehovah that one day Col and I might be able to watch the sun rise while thanking Him for all this from a perfect heart.

The York Book Fair

 

I will probably be mentioning this again, but Fantastic Books is going to be at the York Book Fair in December, and my three books will be there.  Without me alas.  But I am hoping for some sales.  And some of my fellow authors will be there.

So this blog could well be called: Please Buy My Books.  I have tried to make each one of them a page turner.

We woke up to a rainy Monday - quite hard to see where sea ends and sky begins.  As we had no meeting at the Kingdom Hall on Sunday, due to Saturday having been our Circuit Assembly, I will be having trouble negotiating this week.  Sunday felt like Monday, so I guess Monday will feel like Tuesday, etc.

Monday morning was my two usual Zoom sessions, but Col's Zoom with his brothers was cancelled.

I have posted some reviews of my books - and I have some lovely ones for which I am very grateful - on previous blogs, so I might look for a quote.

This is from a real author, on my Gordo Amazon page:

"This very unusual novel combines magical realism with tension, suspense and humour. Miranda and her husband Jim arrive on a luxury, but remote, island for a diving holiday. Jim will dive with their party, and Miranda will enjoy the sea, the sun and relaxation. But like all Paradises, something is lurking on the island that may not welcome the visitors. What is it that moves in the undergrowth as Miranda strolls round the island enjoying the night sky? Why is the long-awaited Gordo continually delayed - and why is it that one by one, Jim and Miranda's party, the only visitors on the island, are starting to vanish? WAITING FOR GORDO explores eco-destruction, responsibility, and the darkness that so often underlies the beauties of nature. Miranda and Jim are characters who engage and convince, the slow burn of the narrative means the tension gradually builds. And what about the golden cockroach? Highly recommended."

There was No-one Left to Speak his Name

 

"The last Yana-speaker in the world died in 1916.  When Ishi was born, the Yana were still a small but healthy collection of tribes ranging the Sierra Mountains of California, where they lived off what they could hunt and the salmon they caught in the rivers.  But gold had been discovered in California and every year tens of thousands of settlers were arriving to stake out a claim.  When Ishi was four years old, there was a massacre of Yana people near what's now Mill Creek.  Ishi's father was one of the people killed.  The last few survivors disappeared into the hills.  The settlers never encountered them again, as far as they knew the Yana had been wiped out.

Forty-four years later Ishi wandered out of the mountains, starving and alone and into the town Oroville, where he was arrested and handed over to anthropologists at the University of California.  He spent the last five years of his life at the university, where he was displayed as a kind of living museum exhibit: the last wild Indian.  He also worked as a janitor; in his spare time he made flint arrowheads, piles of them, in the same way the Yana had been making them for hundreds of years.  He never hunted again.

Ishi was not Ishi's real name. It's a generic word that just means "man". In Yana society, it's forbidden to say your own name until another Yana introduces you.  But there was no other Yana left to speak his name."         

Last Words  Sam Kriss

The Spectator, 1 November 2025

So I cannot name the man I am trying to memorialise in this blogpost.  I wish I could.  However, Jehovah not only knew his name, but knew his every thought, and had every hair of his head numbered, so I do hope that he and his people will live again - will wake in the earthly paradise, when there is no-one and nothing to make any of us afraid.   

And then we will be able to know his name.   If we are there.  But we do need to seek for our Creator, Jehovah, now urgently. And if we do, he will let us find him.

I am a long time Spectator subscriber.  It is such an interesting magazine. 

I thought a sunset shot from Col's gallery would be appropriate - but always bearing in mind that we are now living in the darkest hour before the dawn, and when the dawn comes it will be such a wonderful one. And, during the Thousand Years, the dead will be woken from the dreamless sleep of death.  Daniel assures us that "many of those asleep in the dust of the ground" will wake up.

And then we will have sunrises and sunsets without number ahead of us.   And such is the diversity of Jehovah's creation that however many we see we will never see the same one twice.   

The News continues to reflect "the increasing of lawlessness" worldwide.  Nine people were attacked on a train travelling to London, by a man with a knife.  While nobody has been killed, he inflicted what are called "life-changing injuries".  And apparently on Bonfire Night, the 5th November, there was a lot of trouble in Birmingham, with masked men attacking Police with fireworks.  

I was remembering the bonfire nights of our childhood - a modest bonfire in the back garden, potatoes baking in the ashes, and daddy letting off a few fireworks, rockets in milk bottles and a catherine wheel on the fence.  And, to make the point it was not paradise back then either, fireworks were sold in all the corner shops, piled up in boxes with no thought of Health and Safety. And, horribly, we used to burn a "guy" on the bonfire.  Well, not in our home bonfires, but in the big civic ones.  Poor Guy Fawkes.  But of course we never thought about what it meant - it was just a bonfire night tradition.

What a world. 

We are constantly reminded in the worldwide congregation to keep the paradise earth firmly in mind, to remember all Jehovah has promised us will happen on the earth then.  So I will include a paragraph from one of the current letters I am sending out in the territory I am assigned as I can no longer go door to door.  

The Christian Greek Scriptures, or New Testament, tell us what Jesus did when he was on the earth. He fed the hungry, healed the sick, calmed the storm, and even raised the dead. Isaiah actually speaks of a time, here on the earth, when “No resident will say: ‘I am sick’” (Isaiah 33:24) Wasn’t Jesus showing us what he can and will do when he is ruling over the earth as the King of Jehovah’s Kingdom?  Under its loving rule all causes for suffering will be gone.

House Hunting

 

HOUSE HUNTING

by me

“A Bijou Residence”

Is very very small

“Needs some modernization”

No foundations left at all

“Exquisite Chelsea Garden”

Rockery in backyard

“Rural Situation”

Getting there is hard

“Suitable for Children”

Slap bang on main road

“Cottage Style Accommodation”

Damp enough for toads

“Must view this House Internally”

PLEASE don’t look outside

Sometimes these Agents’ details

Don't half take you for a ride.

When did I write this? No idea. Many years ago. How many houses have I lived in? I have lost count, we have moved so many times. But I guess this flat by the sea will be our last one - well, until after Armageddon, if we are both on the earth then, with life "to time indefinite" stretching ahead of us. Who knows where we will live then? But for sure, under the loving rule of the Kingdom of God everyone then on the earth will have a lovely, safe and secure home.

They will sit, each one under his vine and under his fig tree,

And no one will make them afraid,

For the mouth of Jehovah of armies has spoken.

- Micah 4:4

And no-one will make them afraid.

When I looked in Col's photo gallery I found this, of our first married house, in Alton, many many years ago. There is a young Mrs Captain Butterfly standing outside the door. It makes me feel sad somehow. But don't all lives look sad in retrospect. How could it be otherwise, cut off from our Creator, our Source of life, as we are. So I must, and do, think ahead to the restoration.

And here is a poem I wrote about another house - my brother's house in the years before he left the UK for Oz and became an Australian. He shared a terraced house with a nice fellow student called Judy - and others, all just friends. And there was a Victoria Plum tree in her tiny garden - full of fruit, plus spider.

AVONDALE ROAD

by me

The spider guard to Judy’s plum tree

Nearly caught me

However tables neatly turned

For Colin caught it in his hand

It was lifted, turned, and photographed

Exultantly our Colin laughed

“This photograph, it will be good.”

And sure enough, it got a first

At the Dhahran Expat’s Camera Club.

Yes, that was a long time ago.  Not only was John a student then, not a father of grown-up children as he is now,  but we were in the very early days of our Expat years - the Camera Club with Bruce years. They were the days of Abqaiq Court, when I used to walk back from work through the desert in the noonday heat - I worked from 7 in the morning till midday.  

It is strange as you get older - and older and older - to have all these layers of memory.  And I am so grateful to still be here, and do thank Jehovah for the precious, wonderful, fascinating gift of life. 

The November Calendar

We chose a photo of an Elephant Hawk Moth from Col's gallery for our November calendar picture. It is an amazing and lovely creature and, thankfully, not the size of an elephant. But, if it were - and so, inspiration strikes, and here is the latest from Sue Knightspeare:

If an Elephant Hawk Moth
were to grow bigger

and then to be seen

hovering over our Green

the kids in the playground 

would be in real danger

and young mums with babies

would all flee the scene.

Best I can do.

Captain Butterfly found half a Roman brooch on Saturday, and I did manage to get a few things done - some studying, some housework, and I made a big lentil/veggie/bean stew.  Woke up early to a wild and stormy Sunday, the Green very green, the balcony geraniums waving away, and white waves on a grey and turquoise ocean.  I love weather.  The Captain left early, with a metal detector at every corner, and his sandwich lunch, so I pixellated to the Kingdom Hall for the morning meeting. 

No meetings this week, as it is our Assembly day on Saturday.  I am hoping to be able to watch it via computer.  So one job for today will be to chase up the video link I will need.  Another is to attend my two morning Zoom sessions, with family and with friends, do my studying for the day, some witnessing, and sort out the meals.

Captain B does the breakfasts though, which is great; porridge for him, soaked oats for me, plus a milky coffee - I forget the barista name for it - Cappucinno I guess, or even a Flat White.

We have woken up to rainy Monday with waves on the Channel, and  the balcony geraniums shivering gently.

Fallen Leaves

 

The winds at this time of year bring down the leaves, and there are swathes of them in our gardens today, after a windy night. Captain B nobly struggled out to chauffeur me to the meeting at the Kingdom Hall last night after his hard day in the Detecting Field.

That is one of the jobs of the winds of Autumn of course, to bring down the leaves. But, alas, ever since the loss of Eden, the natural harmony is gone and those winds so often do more than they should.  So it is being a violent Autumn in the Caribbean.  Hurricane Melissa hit the Caribbean HARD on Tuesday - landing on Jamaica and doing immense damage. It then headed to Cuba, and is apparently one of the most powerful storms recorded in the region. The pictures of its mass of swirling clouds with the whirlpool eye in the middle is like something out of a disaster movie.

It has brought down not just leaves but massive trees, blown the roof off houses, and flooded the island.

The Kingdom of God, the heavenly government, will perfectly control all the forces of nature.  Remember how Jesus calmed the storm on the Sea of Galilee?

Today... I was up late... a rather painful and disturbed night... but what I have to do is to de-plane the cake, remove it from its large cake tin and portion it up for the freezer and the Captain's lunches, though I do plan to give each of us a test slice with our mid-afternoon chocolate.  The Great Salt instead of Sugar Apple Crumble Disaster of 2017 (approx) has given me an excuse to test drive all cakes I cook.  And of course I, or rather the Sandwich Fairy, must make his sandwich lunch for tomorrow. Plus there is my studying for the day, and a double Zoom session in the afternoon.  So that session will ensure that I will get some witnessing done.

It was such a lovely meeting last night.  Not only is there no teaching like it in the whole world, but also a young elder took the time out to come over and give me some words of encouragement.  Jehovah looks after every one of his people with such tenderness and He is inviting every one in the world to come to him and be cared for.

Bonfire Night

 

Captain Butterfly took this photo of the bonfire on Saturday night. It was as splendid as ever, and crowds of people came. The firework display - the bits that whizzed past our windows - was spectacular.   It was still blazing away on Sunday morning, as I saddled up the pixels and Zoomed to the meeting. It was an upside down meeting as our speaker was delayed (traffic I think) and so we had the Watchtower study first, followed by the public talk.

It was a very reassuring meeting, reminding us of Jehovah's loyal love for all who love him. It is so important to talk to Jehovah all the time in prayer. I can definitely improve on that - and many other things. I do often ask that, one day, Col and I may be able to thank Him for this beautiful earth from perfect hearts. Something not possible for us yet.

Monday started sunny, with my two Zoom sessions. We had forgotten to tell the Oz Branch that our clocks had gone back! - but he worked it out, and appeared. Apparently just as it is starting to get much colder here, it has suddenly got colder in Oz. Yet they are supposed to be heading into the burning heat of a Sydney Summer - it is us who are heading for winter. And Col had his Zoom session with his siblings in the afternoon, after which I made us our supper: cheese and onion omelette for Himself, hot buttered toast (with seeds) for me.

I feel an urge to write a poem. It would be called Seagulls and Bonfires... but so far the title is all I can manage.

Cats and Dogs

CATS AND DOGS

by me

Sonny bustles

Very busy

On his four short legs

Mats rustle

As Sasha scuttles

Under Mara’s bed

Sonny wants very much

To make friends

And rushes round the bed

Wagging at both ends

A furry face

Peeps out

And Sasha hisses

This Sonny takes to mean

Love and kisses

Sasha miaows for help to come

We all shout

C A T S!

Sonny rushes from the room

With frenzied yaps

“Sorry, Sasha, can’t stop

There are lots of  C A T S to see off.”

Sasha sits a’puzzling

Then the penny drops

You don’t know what a C A T is

You great daft dog.

This little poem - or rather verse - commemorates a moment from Planet Expat when Pat's dog wanted to make friends with Mara's cat. And how long ago it all was. Which reminds me of why I used to write poetry (and verse) back then. I was becoming aware of how short our lives are now, how quickly they go, how the moments just fly past. And I wanted to capture some of those moments as they flew by. And so I did. This is not a moment I remember at all, it was so long ago. But what a lovely dog and cat they were.

When looking for "dogs" and "cats" in Col's Photo Gallery, I came across the sign of one of our favourite Sheffield pubs. I thought it might well do to head this blog. They used to serve the best apple crumble and custard ever, have a lovely veggie option on for the main, and there was no music, no noisy machines. Suited us (and Ken) down to the ground.

Storm Benjamin has been and gone, on Thursday. It blew a few leaves about here and there was a bit of rain, but apparently other parts of the UK got a much stronger version of it. Its a good thing it was not fierce down here as the big bonfire and its attendant fairground have already arrived on The Green, and it could have blown them all to bits.

I managed to get a bit of energy back - probably from the meeting at the Kingdom Hall on Thursday - and got some much needed housework done. However, the result was I was up in the early hours, with severe pain in my "good" shoulder, trying to organise some painkillers and some food to take with them.

Col is at home today which is lovely, so if my shoulder continues to be bad he will help me get what I need off the shelves, etc. T'he soup for lunch is made - and I now have to make his packed lunch for tomorrow and do my Watchtower study - also for tomorrow. The article for tomorrow is "Accept Jehovah's Love" - which is very comforting.

We all feel how imperfect we are and may feel we are not deserving of love. But what Jehovah is holding out to us is "undeserved kindness" - and when He reads our hearts, he sees the wonderful potential that every one of us has. Jehovah IS love, and his love is the force that created and sustains the universe.