The Bonfire

They lit the bonfire - early yesterday morning.  It was still burning last night and will still be smouldering now I guess. Some kids let off fireworks on the Green at startling intervals.  I can't think what I did yesterday, apart from my studying, and making a carrot cake. We had some carrots that needed using up, plus I had no more home-made cake left for the Captain's packed lunches.

Audrey rang to say that Vera had got my letter.  And Col posted the letter and card for JL.

It is a sunny Autumn morning here, with a chill in the air.  And AutumnWatch has begun.  Hurray!  It comes from Lancashire this year, from near Morecambe Bay.  My mother's family have lived in Lancashire since the beginning of time (pretty much), and our childhood Paradise (Nabbs) was there.   I enjoyed it all, but especially the flock of tame starlings.

The little family of starlings that we fed down by the Pier here many years ago has grown and prospered and does small murmurations across the Green.

The best moment in AutumnWatch was watching the starlings flock together at twilight - wheeling round and round, gathering everybody up, until, suddenly, they settle.  It was one of those moments when you can see the holiness of the world so clearly - its beauty and its glory.

A Shock

Yesterday, I got a phone call from the sister of a friend. She needed to talk to me.  Straight away I thought something had happened to my friend JL, but no it wasn't that.  JL's partner had just died - in his sleep - no warning - no previous illness - not even especially old.  Well a couple of years older than me, which does put us all very close to the death zone...

Then I spoke to JL.  She was hysterical with shock and grief.

The world is going to be a strange and frightening place for her without him.  He was such a lovely guy.   I was talking to him on the phone only a couple of weeks ago, and the four of us were planning to meet up for lunch at a pub next Spring/Summer - depending on the state of play with my knew knees.  we were going to find a nice place halfway between our two homes on the South Coast.

Its very hard to take in and understand.

Though IF I have to go, I would like to go like that, peacefully in my sleep. And I am glad for Dave that it was so peaceful.   The next time he opens his eyes, the earth will be more lovely than he could have imagined.

But such a terrible terrible shock for JL, the family, his children, his grandchildren.  We can't even go to the funeral service, as I can't travel at the moment, not much beyond the bounds of home anyway.

We will try to keep in as close touch as we can, obviously.   I have just finished a letter I promised her, putting down my memories of Dave.  I first met him, many years ago, in Dhahran. I had gone round one evening to visit JL, in her little single-girl house, and outside was this good-looking Brit guy sorting out her front garden for her.  He said she didn't even know he was there yet, he had just come round to tackle the garden for her.  I thought: What a nice, thoughtful guy.  And so he proved to be.

Her life is going to be sadly changed without him.

Our storm came and went, leaving some fatalities in its wake, and some damage.  No trees down here though, and the winds not as strong as some forecasts suggested.  I was awake, listening to it howl round the flats, but it wouldn't have woken me up. I was awake because of arthritis pain, in my back, shoulder, neck, knees (old and new), you name it...

As I said above, our sell-by dates are looming.

A Damp Squib

Jackie and Linda came round last night -  Linda especially early so she could park her car outside before they closed the road off.  Jackie had to toil up the stairs as the lift is broken!   (I may have to listen in to the meeting today, unless they can fix it in time.)  So not the greatest of starts.

Anyway, we watched Strictly with wine and nibbles and then I brought out the usual bonfire stuff - cheese, biscuits, pate, hot sausage rolls and garlic bread  - (to be followed by apple crumble and ice-cream) - but  we began to realise there were no crowds outside - the bonfire was not lit - nothing.  The whole thing had been cancelled by Health and Safety - because the weather might worsen.

The spirit of the Blitz has clearly gone.

It was a stormy night though, with, so they say, much worse to come tonight.   The Captain has moved the balcony furniture indoors, and all the pots right to the back of the balcony.  The sky is overcast, full of cloud , the Channel is racing, and the seagulls are shining white against the intense green of The Green.

And it making me think of the great power and artistry of the One who created it - the Grand Creator, Jehovah of armies.  And thank Him.

It all looks so lovely.  But how will it look tomorrow if the coming storm is going to be as bad as they say?

So I am also remembering how Jesus calmed the storm on the Sea of Galilee. When God's Kingdom is ruling over us, we will be able to enjoy the wonder of storms, without having to fear them.  Everything will be back in the perfect balance that prevailed in Eden.

The Aroma of Cows

When we were driving over to Arundel today - on a lovely Autumn morning - and we passed the field of cows, I was thinking how excited Shadow the Golden Retriever would have been to drive with us in England. He never saw cows, let alone smelled them.  He would have been wild with excitement. Though we would not have taken him into a field with cows, obviously, but if he could have been in a field where they had been, and could have smelt all the cowpats...

We had a veggie chile for lunch, then Col got me a mug of nice foamy coffee and I did my study for the Sunday meeting while he went off and photographed.  You can see the results in the Captain's Log.

The bonfire is now built, the fairground is in place, and we are all set for the fireworks tomorrow.

A big storm is forecast for Monday, so we shall be seeing some stormy seas.  The leaves are falling already - and every fallen Autumn leaf is a perfect work of art.

The Bow (and The Climb)

On Sunday afternoon there was an enormous double rainbow, showing briefly and perfectly against an ominous grey sky - see The Captain's Log for the pictures.

Now that I am a student of the Inspired Scriptures, both Hebrew and Christian Greek, I can't see a rainbow without thinking about what it means.   Here is an extract from an Awake! magazine (January 1975):

"The world’s oldest history book, the Bible, draws attention to the first rainbow and gives the reason for its continued appearance. It reports that God made a covenant, a promise to the survivors of the world flood, namely, Noah and his family, that “no more will the waters become a deluge to bring all flesh to ruin.” And as a sign of this covenant, God said to Noah: “My rainbow I do give in the cloud, and it must serve as a sign of the covenant between me and the earth.” (Gen. 9:8-16) What a splendid way to remind mankind of God’s promise!"

And how beautifully Jehovah does everything.

I have been re re-reading Peter Boardman's book about his and Joe Tasker's climb of Changabang's West Wall:  "The Shining Mountain".   As I get to know them more through their writing I feel sadder and sadder about what was so soon to happen, and wonder what on earth did go wrong.  I want to rush into the book and warn them.  And I came across this, on the net, written by Dr.Charles Clarke, who was on their last expedition:

http://www.boardmantasker.com/site/boardman.pdf

"Although Peter’s achievements with his partners will be recorded in the archives of
mountaineering, it is his warmth, humanity and wisdom, which will be sorely missed by those
of us who loved him. He did not agree with Howard Somervell’s epitaph, ‘There are few
better deaths than to die in high endeavour’. Nor did Joe. As I carved a headstone for their
memorial in the Rongbuk Valley my only wish was the last few moments of their lives to be
unraveled."

Yes. They clearly did not want to die.  And Dr.Clarke wonders too - about what could have happened.   It must have happened very soon after they were last seen, or very soon after they woke up in the morning.  If indeed they did wake up. Perhaps it was simply that the altitude killed them.   Once again, I wonder if - IF - I am to be among those who "inherit the earth", and if they are, would it be alright to ask them?

Well, if I am there, I will know whether to ask or not.  We will be living in "the land of straightforwardness" and the right path will be so clear.

Its a rainy morning here, but with a bit of pink beginning to appear along the horizon. The bonfire is being built, and I must start to think about what  to cook for Saturday. There will only be four of us this year - depleted as we are by old age and illness.

An Outing

Kingfisher, Alcedo atthis

It was a beautiful Autumn morning on Friday,and Captain Butterfly took me out to the Wetland Trust for lunch - my first such outing for a couple of months.   The new lake was swarming with birds, including a kingfisher which Col had fun photographing.  (see The Captain's Log).

I had fish and chips - he had soup and most of my chips.  I am on my crutches when out and managed fine.

Col chauffered me to the Kingdom Hall on Thursday night - my first time there for over 6 weeks.  I got a warm welcome, especially from Audrey and Maggie.  We have such a busy month coming up - special talks, C.O. visits, and the offering of a new publication at all doors.  At the moment, I can't imagine me managing to have much part of it as my walking/standing is still so poor.  I found it as much as I could do to stand for the song and the prayer.  I do have a talk in the Ministry School though, which I will be writing and performing.  It is all about "the wisdom from above".  If I can, I will use that quote from Proverbs which tells us to trust in Jehovah with all our hearts, and not rely on our own understanding.

Both ankles are now painful after "all" that walking...   I must remember that it was a big operation and only 6 weeks ago, and not expect too much too soon. And just be grateful it is going well so far.

A landmark was reached yesterday, as I can now stop wearing the support stockings.  I am dreading my next operation, but somehow last night all my anxiety about it got displaced onto an anxiety about choosing the butterfly pictures for the Captain's next calendar.  Not sure why, as that is a fun thing to do.   We only have 8 pics so far, we have yet to decide on the last few. And, somehow, that translated into a night of waking and worrying and dreams in which I turned up at some terrifying Corporate Headquarters to discuss it.

Why do I do this to myself?

A Visitor from Planet Expat

Julia arrived yesterday, and Jackie joined us for supper.  (Cottage pie, cauliflower cheese, and carrots, followed by ice-cream with a chocolate flake).  A good evening.

Julia bought us a beautiful book about the painter Eric Ravilious. I am looking forward to showing it to Bea, who is also a fan. Though its possible she has already got it.

Julia was also reading through my published poems (not all that many), and especially liked this one, so I thought I would put it in the blog.

It appears in "Ours", and in "Old Playgrounds", two anthologies published by Fantastic Books Publishing.

Grown-Ups?
by me

Grown-ups had made us
Bomb sites to play on
Wasn't that grand?
They'd sown the sea
With fireworks
To explode on the sand
Us kids played at war
But who were the Baddies?
Now no-one was sure.

Was it the Germans?
The big boys said "No"
Baddies were Russian
But how did they know?

Don't call people enemies!
Daddy said it with passion
We didn't go shopping
We went for our rations
Clinic juice was orange
Treacly and free
We journeyed into space
On the wireless
There was no TV

Daddy went to work
Six days of seven
To Silverdale, Jordanthorpe
Planning new Eden
We always found mummy
At home, in the kitchen
Then farewell Coles Corner
Au Revoir, Trams
Goodbye bomb site, hello building site
The brave new world began

Grown-ups soon made us
Landmines to play on
Sunk into sand
Finely adjusted for leg or small hand
Us kids played at war
But who were the Baddies?
Now no-one was sure.


In many ways, the Fifties was a good time to be a child, if you had good parents. There was still a certainty and a cohesion about society - though it was a harsh one  in many ways - and a real feeling of a brave new world coming.  It didn't come. But it couldn't, as "it does not belong to man who is walking even to direct his step".

Isn't this why we say the Lord's Prayer? We want a government that really can bring about peace on earth.