The Bluebell Woods

The Captain's marshalling work took him into the bluebell woods, and this is a photograph he took for me.  I can't walk in them myself any more, nor can Jackie, who used to be our Bluebell Walk companion.

I am wondering about us doing a flower calendar for next year, IF we are both still around - and IF the current system of things in still up and running.

We are in for some very very big changes on the earth.  And how splendid will the bluebell woods be then? Plus, we will all be able to walk happily and safely in them.

I feel another poem coming on:  Would you walk/in bluebell woods/for sure I would/if I only could  - but maybe not.  There would have to be some kind of reason for it, beyond my not being able to walk much at the moment.

What would John Betjeman and Philip Larkin have made of it?  Something wonderful for sure. And if only I could work that out I would have a brilliant poem.

I managed to get through Sunday night without any painkillers - a first for this year - but then I dreamt that I was stranded at the top of Everest, unable to climb down.  Fortunately there was a visitors centre up there, with people around, but to get off Everest you had a tricky climb UP.  It didn't in the dream occur to me that when you are at the top of Everest you are at the top of the world. The only way is down.  And you just have to concentrate on not coming down too quick.  Nor did it occur to me that the Visitors Centre, complete with loo, cafe and gift shop was odd either.

But I was just starting to wonder how on earth I had got myself up there in the first place when I woke up to find I was safe in my own bed, with Captain Butterfly in the kitchen flying the coffee machine.

This morning I have to conduct my Bible study with the flower lady.  We are talking about how to get the best out of studying the Bible today.

Showing my Workings

I am trying to see if I can write a small poem about the two earliest memories I have - two windows in time that opened.  They are ones I have probably mentioned before in my blog.  The earliest is a moment on Hampstead Heath with my young father, by the Pond. I must have been about three years old. And the second was when I was about 4 years old, in Sheffield, playing shop with a little friend in her garden of soot-blackened stones.

Its not that I remember them now, but I remember remembering them over the years, if that make sense.  I don't know why a window suddenly opens on Hampstead Heath and stays with me.  But the reason I remember the blossom moment is that seeing the blossom on stone, and being surrounded by blossom, in the lovely May garden filled me full of a sudden and unexpected joy.  Though it took me some decades to find out why I had felt that joy in that soot blackened spring garden. I believe it was a reminder of Eden, of the paradise garden our first parents so tragically lost.

And its a joy that I hope lies ahead of all of us, right here on the earth - a joy that will go on forever.

Anyway, I would like to try and pin the moments down in a poem as best I can and I thought I would show my workings.  It began as this, and continues to the finished version:

May was the blossom

on blackened stone

shining in steel city

we played shops

with all that the Spring garden had provided

It shone in steel city

the blossom on blackened stone

lifting my heart

a glimpse of paradise

while we played shops with all that May provided

earlier another window in time opens

the Pond at Hampstead Heath

my young father holds my hands

as we watch the Pond yachts.

Shining white in Steel city 

on blackened stone

blossom lifted my heart

while we played shops

with all that Spring had grown

too young to know this was a glimpse of lost paradise

pond yachts on the Heath

stay with me too

and my father's hand in mine

And I think this one is the finished version, as close as I can get:

Two Windows in Time

by me

Shining white in Steel city

on blackened stone

the blossom lifted my heart

while we played shop

with all that Spring had grown.

An earlier window opens

on Hampstead Heath

my father - so young -

holds my hand while

pond yachts sail along.

Of course, there is a better version of this in the ether somewhere, but this is the best I can do.

While Captain Butterfly has resigned from his volunteer work for Sussex Search and Rescue, after years of service, he has not resigned from fund-raising for them, so he left very early, with his usual sandwich lunch, to do some marshalling, for which SUSSAR will get paid.

I plan to attend the meeting at the Kingdom Hall in pixel form, via Zoom. But I am at least back in person at the Thursday night meeting, as Col is there to help me get dressed and chauffeur me.

I am wondering whether to get out on the balcony for half an hour of sunshine and finish my Watchtower study out there.  It turns out that what i have been identifying as Thrift on the balcony is something else.  I have forgotten its name, but it would explain why it kept flowering all through the Winter which no balcony Thrift has done before.

The Pleasures of Friendship

The Pleasures of Friendship
by Stevie Smith

The pleasures of friendship are exquisite,
How pleasant to go to a friend on a visit!

I go to my friend, we walk on the grass,
And the hours and moments like minutes pass.

I was thinking about the friends I have lost.  I guess all of us who are well past our sell-by date have lost family and friends - even me, an introverted Aspergery person.

I don't seem to have any photos of my lost friends, so I have headed this blog with a Ken Reah painting of Endcliffe Vale Park, a park from my childhood - a park  I have walked through with family, friends and dogs for most of my life.

I went there at lunch hours in the Sixth form with Barbara and Elizabeth.  And that was a long long time ago.  They are both still with us, as far as I know.  Elizabeth lives across the water on the Isle of Wight and we exchange letters/cards at Christmas.

Janie, a best friend from my childhood, the best friend of my young teenage years - she lived next door - died some years ago.  And Ann Marie, the best best friend of my expat years died before we retired.  I would have loved to share my books with her, as she shared her pottery with me.  And Diana with whom I shared a flat, well a room really, in my Uni years, died before we retired.  We are still in touch with her husband Pete.

How long can I go creaking on?

Anyway, on the topic of friendship,it looks like we will be having a small reunion of friends from Planet Expat, as a couple of them are over from the USA for this year's Company reunion.  We have asked if they would like to come for lunch.  I am looking forward to it.  And we also heard from our Thai friend in Bangkok.   That has got me thinking of old student times in Jesmond, and my first experiences of Thai food - which I love to this day - and also of our visits to Bangkok in our travelling years.

And right on time to be mentioned in this blog, an old facebook friend, Milton D, has just got in touch. I found his email in the Spam section - along with one from my bro.

And I have no idea why Google suddenly spammed them

If we all "inherit the earth", and live forever upon it, how will it feel having a thousand years of memories, ten thousand years - and all happy ones, no sadness, no bitter regrets?

And I must note that neither Milton D nor my brother believes this, but I hope they won't mind my hoping this for them.

In the Dark Fastness of Lobbs Wood

The bluebells are out in Lobbs Wood - a lovely walk for all who dare to enter its dark fastness.  You wouldn't have to be daring for too long though, as it's only about a dozen steps from one side to another.

It's quite a survival really - especially given that a fortune could be made by putting a block of flats on it.

Col is back to the metal detecting, so all seems to be going well, medically speaking.  His alarm clock went off at about 5 a.m. on Saturday morning - in other words, situation back to normal.

I don't know what to say about the News, about what is going on in the world, as the tragedies continue.  When Satan told our first parents that they did not need to accept and obey their Creator's moral laws, he lied to them. It is as simple as that.  Tragedy ensued, and will until God's Kingdom comes.

On Sunday morning I looked out over a calm blue grey Channel - grey in the foreground, blue at the horizon, under a mild grey overcast sky.  It was a symphony in grey and green.  It reminded me of how lovingly Jehovah made this earth for us, and reassured me of the paradise earth to come.  

The Captain left very early, for the usual reasons, while I made it to the meeting via Zoom - only just though, as I was in quite a lot of pain during the night and felt very very tired.

Another bad night, though having said that I didn't actually get up to take my painkillers till 5:00 - often it is about 1:30.  I had one Zoom session this morning with a friend and am about to pixel into my next one.  Not sure that Nute will make it though, as she has a work commitment today.

Three of us made it, and hopefully we will be back to the usual four next week.

Lowertrees

We had an expedition to Lowertrees Nursery on Wednesday.  It is all of a 10 minute drive away - doubled on that occasion by a traffic cone holdup - one lane blocked - and it's only a few minutes walk from car to plants - it's a very small nursery - with excellent plants. But, depressingly, that tiny tiny outing left me exhausted and in a lot of pain.

Anyway, we got our Nemesia to colour and scent our balcony and some more geraniums.  The pic above is of our newly planted balcony.  I hope to post one later when its in its full flowering glory.

And I must note that our valiant little Thrift has come through the winter, still flowering.  It features in the second photo.

It was a busy day on Wednesday, by my standards, nowadays.  We went to spend the morning with our Bible student, the Flower Lady. She is having her medical troubles at the moment, so we didn't make it formal, just showed her a couple of videos and had coffee and a chat.

Then I had my usual Zoom session in the afternoon before we set off on our Trek to the Garden Centre.

The Memorial was a stressful occasion this year, as I only managed to get there in Zoom.  I had been planning to go, the Captain was officially fit to chauffeur me, though not up to coming, and I had even been sheared for the occasion, so my hair looks as neat as it can.

Anyway, I did attend in Zoom and managed to find the emblems - I had some crispbread, which is basically flour and water, no leaven, and Col poured me a glass of red wine.  I did drink the wine later - AFTER the Memorial was over - as I felt I needed a glass of something.  I rarely drink these days.  And I don't take the emblems as I am not one of those with the heavenly hope. They are only 144,000, according to the Book of Revelation. The hope for most of us - and for me - is to "inherit the earth", and live forever on this beautiful planet.

However, I did make more of the Memorial Bible readings this year, as I decided to read the relevant chapters in the book "Jesus, The Way, The Truth, The Life".  It is an account of the life and ministry of Jesus, as told in the Christian Greek Scriptures, or New Testament, all in chronological order. 

Two things that I gleaned from it this time had not struck me before, and I might come back to them in another blog.

Bea (usually The House of Three Milks, but not this time)

Bea and Simon visited us on Saturday.  They were on a tour of family and friends in the South and were heading back home Northwards.  We didn't have long together - not long enough to get in some soy milk and become The House of Three Milks - but it was so lovely to see them, albeit briefly.  We got a takeaway from a local Italian restaurant we had never tried before, and it was excellent.  I ordered a pizza - margarita, my favourite - so it provided my supper for two days.

Simon is very into Astronomy and bought some wonderful photos he has taken of the planets, stars and galaxies.  When we see the wonder that is the Universe we float in - and we only get glimpses of it - I hope it can make us all wonder where it came from, who created it...

Because the answer is there, in the Inspired Scriptures, which say of our Creator, Jehovah:

“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

I think Science has now caught up with that, and agrees that matter does come from energy.  And that is expressed clearly and simply in Isaiah.

Jehovah knows every one of us, just as he knows every star, just as not a sparrow falls without his knowing about it.  And he assures us, in his inspired word, that if we search for him we will find him.

I know that to be true.  

Col has not, yet, got into astronomical photography, but I put "star" into his Photo Gallery and got this splendid starfish, taken in The Gulf.  It did appear on the cover of one of the Oil Company's brochures many years ago. And may still do so, for all I know.

It is, apparently, a Common Knobbed Star (though to me it seems very uncommon).

The Memorial

Tonight, after sunset, millions worldwide will be memorialising the death of Jesus Christ, and remembering the ransom sacrifice he made.

I cannot express what it means for us better than our Scriptural thought for today does:

The gift God gives is everlasting life by Christ Jesus our Lord.​—Romans 6:23.

On our own, we could never redeem ourselves from sin and death. (Psalm 49:7, 8) So at great cost to himself and to his dear Son, Jehovah arranged for Jesus to give his life in our behalf. The more we meditate on what Jehovah and Jesus sacrificed for us, the more we will appreciate the ransom. When Adam sinned, he forfeited the prospect of everlasting life not only for himself but also for all his children. In order to buy back what Adam lost, Jesus offered his own perfect life as a sacrifice. During his entire life on earth, Jesus “committed no sin, nor was deception found in his mouth.” (1 Peter 2:22) At the time of his death, Jesus’ perfect life corresponded exactly to the life Adam lost.​—1 Corinthians 15:45; 1 Timothy 2:6.

Col won't be able to be with me at the Kingdom Hall this year, but he is going to chauffeur me, as he is allowed to drive now.

He had his day surgery on Thursday.  He left early, got back late, but in one piece and looking fine.  For which I do thank God!  It was a very worrying day.

He will need to go back in a few weeks, make sure all is OK.  

The poor guy then had to spend the next morning dealing with the Inland Revenue, who had sent us a letter saying that we owe them some money. At the same time their website clearly says that we have paid our current tax bill and owe nothing - a Big Fat Zero.

So Col had to spend most of his morning trying to phone them which meant sitting for ages and ages with the phone saying things like: "Your call is very valuable to us", "an agent will be with you soon", etc etc.  After an hour or so of this we were feeling rather fragile, but then we got through to a lovely young lady, somewhere in Newcastle I think, who really took her time and helped us sort the muddle out.  Whatever her pay is, please double it.  She is worth paying a bit more tax for.

The bluebells are out again. So it is the time of year that Col, Jacks and me would usually go out for our bluebell walk.  The olden days now, alas.

But, with the precious ransom sacrifice in mind, maybe one day the three of us will walk in bluebell woods again. They are lovely enough now, so how lovely will they be when the whole earth is paradise?

The Olden Days

This is the photo we chose for our April Calendar - a comely Clouded Buff, which likely turned up in our moth hotel last year.  I hope its life went well, or indeed is still going well.  And that its children are many.  And I hope it gave us a good review on TripAdvisor.

Col has been out on the balcony sorting and tidying and I think a trip to our favourite Garden Centre will be on as soon as it opens for the season. I must give it a mention when we do go.  

The News is all of the Tariffs, which it seems may bring about a world recession - something that will weigh hard on many of us, but most of all on the poorest in the world.  The whole business of money is insane really.  

And while the money markets crash, terrible things are happening all over the world.  Isn't it time we all admitted that we cannot rule ourselves, let alone rule over each other, and turn to our loving Creator instead?

With that in mind I got the last of my invitations to the Memorial on Saturday posted on Monday as I had a rare outing, to a pharmacy at a local village for our next Covid jabs.   

We came back to some very bad news.  Shirley, a close friend of Bea's for sixty years has died.  Bea is devastated.  It is all so sad.  

If we are living in the Darwinian system of things that "the world" would like us to believe, why are these things so painful?  Wouldn't it seem natural to lose those we love as we get older?

But it isn't. And so we find it deeply painful.  Our hearts are telling us the truth, that this was never meant to happen, and it is a tragedy.  

So, inspired perhaps by thoughts of mortality, and the contrast between the lovely Spring day and the sadness and our great ages, I did manage to write a small poem:

The Olden days - by me

Blossom lined the roads.

By the daffodilled carpark,

youngsters played

while we had Covid jabs

declaring birth dates

from the olden days.

I hope that Shirley sleeps safe in "the everlasting arms", safe in Jehovah's memory, and that, when the time comes, he will wake her from the dreamless sleep of death and she will see this lovely earth again - maybe on a blossom-filled day in Spring.

The Captain and the Sceat

 

Captain Butterfly and his recent find. A shining Saxon Sceat. Further info is on this blogpost:

https://colinknight.blogspot.com/2025/03/saxon-sceat.html

When I think how old that coin is, it really underlines how short our lives are now. Generations of us, the children of Adam, have come and gone, returned to the dust of the ground, and yet that little coin is still here.

Which brings me to this poem that Wendy Cope wrote about her husband. I can't say it better, so here it is:

“To My Husband,” Wendy Cope

If we were never going to die, I might 

Not hug you quite as often or as tight,

Or say goodbye to you as carefully

If I were certain you’d come back to me. 

Perhaps I wouldn’t value every day, 

Every act of kindness every laugh

As much, if I knew you and I could stay

For ever as each other’s other half. 

We may not have too many years before 

One disappears to the eternal yonder 

And I can’t hug or touch you any more. 

Yes, of course that knowledge makes us fonder.

Would I want to change things, if I could,

And make us both immortal? Love, I would.

https://www.tumblr.com/allyourprettywords/123380943623/to-my-husband-wendy-cope


Yes. We never want to lose the people we love. It is not a loss our Creator ever intended for us.  He has put eternity into our minds.

And it is our Creator, Jehovah, who can and will give us life forever, in the restored earthly paradise... and I so much hope we will "inherit the earth", and never have to wonder if and when that final separation is coming up.

And how will it be to have loved someone for hundreds of years, thousands, millions? Love is infinite, it is the force that created and sustains the universe. Our Creator Jehovah IS love.

And maybe the Captain and I - IF we are there - will have many more long-running jokes as well - which is a side of marriage I never thought about when I was young.  

 

The Hound of Endcliffe Vale Park - and a part in the School

 

I had a part in the School on Thursday night, and did manage to make it in person. Col helped me get ready, practised the script with me, and chauffered me. Penny joined us, via pixel.

Our Circuit Overseer gave us such an encouraging talk, and we all did our best in our various assignments.

My brief: 6. Following Up

(4 min.) PUBLIC WITNESSING. During the last conversation, the person accepted the Memorial invitation and expressed interest. (lmd lesson 9 point 3)

The script:

HH: Hullo, I was hoping to find you here. I lost the contact card you gave me after our talk last week and I wanted to tell you that I won’t be able to come to the Memorial on Saturday and so I don’t need the lift you kindly offered.

Sue.  It was so thoughtful of you to find the trolley and find me and tell me. But I would have rung you tomorrow just to make sure.  I hope you haven’t run into any problems.

HH.  No. Nothing like that.  My husband has come back early from his business trip and wants to take me out for a meal on Saturday night to celebrate our anniversary. But I haven’t forgotten what we talked about, or the invitation.  I feel I must get back to going to church, to finding my belief in God again, so I thought what I would do is go to the Easter Sunday service at our local church. 

Sue. I hope you have a lovely anniversary dinner.  And I am so glad you have been thinking over what we talked about. And indeed you could go to the Easter service, although that memorialises Jesus’ resurrection rather than his death.

HH.  Oh yes, of course. Well I guess what I could do is go to the Good Friday service, and then come to Easter at your Church.

Sue.  We only memorialise Jesus’ death though, not his resurrection.

HH. Oh. Why is that?  Isn’t the resurrection even more important?  It really made me think when you were showing me how Jesus was resurrected to become a powerful king in heaven.  

Sue;  That is a very good question. Both Jesus’ sacrificial death and his resurrection are of such importance for all of us. So why only memorialise one of them?  Would you look at this Bible verse here, at 1 Peter 2:21, which says: “In fact, to this course you were called, because even Christ suffered for you, leaving a model for you to follow his steps closely.”  To follow his steps closely. To illustrate, suppose you were following a guide over dangerous ground - for example Grimpen Mire from the Hound of the Baskervilles - if you have ever read that book.

HH. Oh yes. It’s so scary!  Though to be honest I always felt sorry for that poor hound.

Sue. Well, bless you for that. I agree. I have often thought if only the Baskervilles had not been so full of superstitious fears and instead had a pocket full of doggy treats and a few kind words for the poor hound the story could have been very different.  No, what scared me was  the horror of Grimpen Mire, because if you took one wrong step while trying to cross it you would find yourself being pulled down into the swamp. And the more you struggled the more it pulled you down. You had no chance.   So if you had to cross that Mire following a guide, a local man who knew every inch of it, would you watch very carefully where he put his feet, or would you decide to take a shortcut instead?

HH.  Of course you would watch every step, and put your feet exactly where he put his feet.

Sue:  Yes. It’s as simple as that. So we try to look at exactly where Jesus put his feet, so to speak. And we notice that Paul quoted Jesus as saying at the Last Supper after he passed round the bread and the wine “For as often as you eat this loaf and drink this cup, you keep proclaiming the death of the Lord, until he arrives.” (1 Cor. 11:25, 26) So is it Jesus’ death or his resurrection we are to keep proclaiming?

HH:  It does say his death. Yes.  This is making me wonder if I really do know the Bible at all.

Sue:  Do you know that we offer a free home Bible Study to all who want one. It can be for an hour a week, even for ten minutes a week whatever suits you. If you like I could call round next week and demonstrate it to you.

HH. Yes, I would like that. Do you still have my contacts?  If so, could you give me a ring and I will check with my diary.

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

I had wanted to say something about why we are memorialising Jesus death on Saturday the 12th April this year, and not on what is called "Good Friday". It is because Jesus died on the Passover - which was a deliverance that prefigured the ransom sacrifice of Jesus Christ - and the date of the Passover is decided by the phases of the moon. But I couldn't discuss that. I only had 4 minutes, and it is important to keep to time.

The dog in the photo is Ollie, the Hound of Endcliffe Vale Park (in his day). You were in no danger from him, though he did come over a bit Baskerville when people were picnicking with their food at doggie level. But it was only the food that was harmed.