More Damaged Wings

More damaged wings, more antibiotics!  Will I ever be well again?    Bea is over for the week - and I got a lovely suprise this morning when Nute rang up to say she was in London, in between conferences, and would come down for lunch.  

Just like old days when we all lived in the same city and could drop in on each other all the time.

A Bank Holiday weekend

The weather has been good considering it is a Bank Holiday. Early morning Monday on the South Coast is all sparkling sunshine and little waves on the Channel. We - Maggie, Ken, Jean and myself - the Gang of Four - went to our Assembly at Haysbridge on Saturday. Wonderful teaching - it just gets better and better - as it always will. But both Jean and I had had very bad nights and had constantly to fight falling asleep. And we both admit to strange blanks in the programme.
The theme was 'The Time Left is Reduced', and how important it is that we make sure we are walking in Jesus' footsteps, as exactly as we can.
We all turned up for the special field service arrangement yesterday. Audrey and i worked a road full of big old houses turned into bedsits. So we were often having to witness through intercoms, which is far from easy. We then did a couple of magazine route calls.
I am off for coffee with Audrey this morning.

APRIL

John Clare has this to say in 'April', in 'The Shepherds Calendar':

"The long lost charm of sparkling dew
Thy gentle birth recieves
And on thy wreathing locks we view
The first infolding leaves
And seeking firstling buds and flowers
The trials of thy skill
Were pastimes of my infant hours
And so they haunt me still..."

A window in time that stays open for me is a minute or two in a Spring morning in the soot-blackened Sheffield of the Fifties. I must have been 4 or 5 years old and was playing in a stone garden with stone walls - all black with soot - with a little friend. We were playing shop, using stones and flowers and whatever was around us. And there was fallen blossom on the black stones.

What i can remember is feeling so full of joy at the beauty of it all. I saw the Paradise the earth was meant to be and will be. Though it took me till I was in my late thirties to start to search for the Creator of it to thank Him.

A Dark and Stormy Night

It was a dark and stormy night, the night of the Memorial this year - on 30th March, or the 14th of Nisan - the day of the Passover. I hadn't realised how windy until I stepped outside the flat and my carefully prepared self was blown into something that even Strewelpeter would have found a bit messy. Anyway, we picked up Jacks, and arrived with 15 mins to spare. Maggie had saved us seats. Ron gave the talk - excellently. He is not a well man now, but it was beautifully delivered and heartfelt.

The bread and the wine was passed, although we have no-one in our congregation who takes it.

I don't know what Jacks and the Captain made of it, but I hope they thought about what they heard. Ron spoke a lot about the Biblical hope of living forever in the restored earthly Paradise.

And it was lovely to have Captain B beside me at the Kingdom Hall and to be able to hold his hand during the final prayer.

We then came back here and had a bottle of Oyster Bay and some nibbles and had a nice couple of hours together. The storm raged all through the night, and the Channel is well stirred up today. Wonderful waves beating outside our window.

Lost in (Private) Space

The Captain hauled me out for a long walk this morning - my first for ages. See his Log for the photographs. It was a perfect March day - sunny, with a strong cold wind, a glittering Channel and daffodils everywhere. And the valiant dog walkers were out on the sea front. We walked along the shore that fronts the very wealthy estates to the East. It was hard going on shingle - but a great dose of ozone. However, when trying to leave we got lost in a maze of Private Streets and Security Gated Mansions. Wonderful houses and gardens, but we couldn't find the way out. Just as I was starting to panic and wonder how long we could survive on the scrapings of caviare and dregs of champagne we would find in their dustbins, the Captain turned the right corner and off we went.We picked up Brian's picture this afternoon. It looks wonderful in our frame and has brightened up our rather dark hall. It is a copy of Plage de Villerville, Normandy by Charles François Daubigny (1817-1878).

Damaged Wings Redux

Still not well. I don't think i have had one day of good health since late December - moan moan. Its a good thing i am not a butterfly as that means that my whole tiny life would have been one of illness. In fact something would probably have eaten me the moment I limped painfully out of my chrysalis.
Although, getting older, I realise just how short our lives are at the moment - how little time we have to see this lovely world - and to be with the people we love.
The Captain was a hero (as usual) and took me and Audrey out on the field service as I could not drive us. It is very cold again with a bitter wind. But I got the Memorial Invitations to everyone on my tiny magazine route at least - and helped Audrey to get them to the rest of her vast route.
We saw Jacks yesterday and delivered her invite personally. She might come. But she has damaged wings too at the moment and isn't sure.
That Horseman of Sickness (of Revelation) is riding hard. But what we must always remember is that the Rider on the White Horse is riding too - so a rescue is at hand. He is the King of kings and Lord of lords, and will put an end to this current system of things upon the earth.
Then 'no resident will say "I am sick''' - and IF I am there, my blog posts will take a cheerier turn.