Eye Eye

I decided on the heading for this blog with much apprehension on the Saturday morning  before we left for Brighton and before my afternoon appointment with the Optician.  I have no idea how this will continue  - or indeed if it will.

Well, it has continued and there is a glad thing and a sad thing.  Glad, very, that after an exhaustive eye examination, at Specsavers, Saturday afternoon, the kind young Optician assured me that my eyes were fine. It is perhaps rather horrid, but the manifestations are caused by the jelly in one of my eyes moving, as the artificial whatsit inserted when I had my Cataract operation is not as finely honed as the original one - as made by Jehovah! - and there is a bit more room. So this can happen. And it may well settle down and wear off. Though it also might not...

Very relieved, and very grateful, as I did pray about this.  And I will have to get used to looking through a sort of misty veil and having some odd and alarming black threads rush across my eyes every so often.  This is yet another reason why my driving days are over.

I chose an Ox-eye Daisy from Col's photo gallery to head this blog.  They are out too, I noted as we drove along through blossom-lined roads.

The sad thing was that maybe Saturday was another of the "lasts" of old age.  We went to the AGM of SOS - Sussex Ornithologists - a day of talks from people working in the field of Bird.  We used to go to lots of these Conservation Meeting days in our years with Butterfly Conservation.  It is always good to see how many people are volunteering their time, energy and money to try to care for the creation.

We were only there for the morning sadly, but it was interesting.  However, whether I will be able to make another of these days is the problem - the sad thing. Was that my last?  It is getting increasingly difficult.  All being well, and if the venue is the same - Brighton University - I might try again next year.  

But what a bleak place Brighton Uni is, building wise.  Such a bleak campus. And I wonder why.  Why not have made it beautiful?

The early Spring day was beautiful though - the creation still shines in spite of all the violence and the sadness in the world.  I hope it can reassure us of the truth - that Jehovah, the Creator of this loveliness has not abandoned us and will not abandon us.

And I thought I would post Emily Dickinson's poem again - as it is just right for this time of year, as the trees begin to put on the green bonnets of Spring.  I would love to have written it.

Not at Home to Callers 

 by Emily Dickinson

Not at Home to Callers 

Says the Naked Tree -- 

Bonnet due in April -- 

Wishing you Good Day --

https://www.poetrysoup.com/famous/poems/short/april

Blossom

 

Captain B took this for me on a recent outing to The Field.  It is a reminder that the whole earth was intended to be paradise - a beautiful garden.  The Bible study on Wednesday morning went well.  It does seem as if the power of Jehovah's word may be getting through to our lovely student.

Thursday morning I made the now routine crumble, though I did vary it with rhubarb last week as rhubard suddenly appeared Abel&Cole-wise. I got some more Not Home letters done, did my studies,  a load of washing, and made a mushroom curry.  Oh and a fair amount of sofa-surfing - which is depressingly necessary these days as I get so tired and my back hurts so much.

The gallant Captain chauffered me to the Kingdom Hall on Thursday night - a great meeting as always. There is no teaching like it.

I have been watching some episodes of a programme called MAFSAUS  - attracted by it being set in Sydney - a place of many happy memories from our expat years.  But, oh dear - what a cruel thing reality TV is, and why does anyone ever agree to take part in it?

And has the relationship between men and women, so horribly damaged in Eden, ever been worse?  The malicious glee some of the women show - openly on camera - when they are attacking and hurting others is distressing. They must, I assume, believe that to achieve such nastiness is a credit to them.

It was never easy to be young, but now!   All the girls for example, are glamorous, tanned, depilated, tattooed, and in some cases plastically-enhanced. Yet seemingly it is even harder for them to find a life partner than it was in my day.

But what incredible beauty standards they have to live up to - apparently all fuelled by the media, especially some of its darker areas.

And the programme, for what I have seen of it, is gladiatorial, pitching man against woman, and woman against woman. On the whole the guys seem to get along with each other a lot better.

In some ways are the current horrors in The Gulf simply this programme writ large, all stemming from how easily we allow "the world", the present wicked system of things on the earth, to turn us against each other?

We can resist the spirit of the world.  But we cannot do so successfully without our Creator's help, and the power of his holy spirit.

Here is the contrast, set out in Galatians:

Now the works of the flesh are plainly seen, and they are sexual immorality, uncleanness, brazen conduct, idolatry, spiritism, hostility, strife, jealousy, fits of anger, dissensions, divisions, sects, envy, drunkenness, wild parties, and things like these. I am forewarning you about these things, the same way I already warned you, that those who practice such things will not inherit God’s Kingdom.  On the other hand, the fruitage of the spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faith, mildness, self-control. Against such things there is no law.

Galatians 5:19-23

I have been having some strange phenomenon in my right eye since the cataract operations, but it was so spectacularly bad Friday morning that I have had to call the Optician and have an appointment for this afternoon.  It is so hard to know what is to be expected as the unavoidable deterioration of old age, and what can be fixed.

And this morning I am seeing everything through a veil of black spots, so it is not good - it is my right eye, the one that was treated with the new Cataract procedure, which may be what has caused the problem.

Unfortunately we have one of our rare (these days) outings, to the Sussex Ornithological Society special day at Brighton Uni.  We will have to leave at the lunch break, taking our sandwiches with us, to get to my appointment.  After that, I do not know.  I hope I am not rushed straight off to A & E - on a Saturday night!  The horror - and the hours of waiting.

I am trying to tell myself that I do have another eye  - and that I am in my eightieth year... so everything in me is failing.  It is to be expected.  And above all I am trying to fix my mind on the healing that Jesus did when he was on the earth, showing us what he will do for us when he is ruling over the whole earth as the King of Jehovah's Kingdom.

And, to end on a positive note, Captain B is being a tower of strength, poor guy - and I have just got my 15 hours witnessing in for this month.  I had hoped to do more, obviously, but at least I have got the amount in I had aimed at.  And I still may be able to do more.

Though I am not, alas, one of these wonderful brothers and sisters who can give such an excellent witness while going through medical horrors. I am very far from that.  And if you ever find me doing so, you will know a miracle has occurred, so please credit it to Jehovah.  And I am sure those brothers and sisters would tell you the same.  

A Trifling Matter

 

WHERE I AM

by me

Sand and concrete, concrete and sand

Flat standard housing, sandy coloured, new

Skies so hot, so close, so damp,

It’s like walking in the greenhouse at Kew

Or on an endless beach, no sea in view

And tropical flowers everywhere

Then yellow sand, then barbed wire, then debris

And after that, just yellow sand, stripped bare.

This is the companion poem to the one I put in a previous blog - Where I am Not.  They were both written at the time of my first experience of Planet Expat, and our first trip to visit friends in Thailand.  Both places amazed me and inspired some poems, one of which was published in an anthology: the poem Chiang Mai Sunset, which I blogged in March.

So I found one of Col's photos from our Saudi years to head the blog.

Our next Covid shots were scheduled for Tuesday.  The kind pharmacist who did mine listened patiently to my worries about being on an immuno-suppressant and explained that (a) that made me more prone to infections so I need the shot (which I knew and which is why I have them) and (b) that the effectiveness of the vaccine relies on a strong response from the immune system, which my immune system will not be able to provide. So it might be less effective in my case.  I hadn't realised that, and, in a way it put my mind at rest. I was grateful for the info.

Apparently he said to Col that he had "very strong muscles".  Which he does.  Its all that hard work in The Field that does it.

"He didn't say that to me!" I protested.  To be fair, he would probably have been more likely to have advised me to look for work in a Trifle Factory as they were short of jelly at the moment.  

And I wouldn't take such work anyway as I am firmly of the school of of thought that believes jelly has no place in a trifle.

But I had better say no more as haven't wars been caused by such trifling issues?

And talking of war, the situation in the Gulf is madness. And I feel very much for the people of Iran and the Lebanon - and for everyone caught up in it.  I have no idea why the Lebanon is being attacked. Wasn't it once called the Pearl of the Middle East?   But the whole thing defies logic. What is anyone gaining from this?  Shouldn't we, the human family,  be stopping to think why it is we haven't learnt even some basic lessons from the horrors of two wars so terrible they are called World Wars?

What is the force that is driving us to fear, hate and kill our brothers and sisters?  The Inspired Scriptures not only explain it and teach us how to resist it, but also assure us of the coming rescue.

Kiki, Lee and Jon

 

WHERE I AM NOT

by me

It’s very clear

That I’m not in Kew

Its January

And I’m not cold

There are sprinklers going

I’m in tropical gear

Trees are in green leaf

Frangipani blossom is on the table

Kiki, Lee and Jon are here.

This burst of poetry - or burst of verse - is because Kiki, no longer the tiny child of the poem/verse but a beautiful young lady, has suddenly got in touch with a mutual friend from our Uni days.  I wrote this years and years ago on our first visit to Thailand, when we were all on a jungle trip near the River Kwai.

She won't remember us, I don't think, but we do remember her.  

So I was looking over all those little poems I wrote then, Thailand being very inspiring.  And I chose this one.  I think I have posted a couple of different ones in my blogposts before.

We chose this Man Orchid as our April photo for the 2026 calendar.  All the orchids are ones Col photographed in the UK, in the wild, on his various travels.  And when I do start to feel a bit of self-pity about being housebound, I try to remember that not only am I a homebody anyway, but also that I have had plenty of travel and plenty of outings in my time.  So I have no excuse whatsoever for whingeing...  And I can always rely on Captain B to deal firmly with too much self-pity. 

And he has been bringing back some wonderful photos of Spring flowers and blossom from his excursions.

I got a letter sent to the Flower Lady as we won't be seeing her this week, and also one to Richard.  Plus I got a letter done to Beryl. She is housebound now too, and I can't visit - except via letterbox.

The Gallant Captain chauffered me to the Kingdom Hall on Thursday night, and helped me to the door. Had there been any puddles he might well have thrown his cloak over them too - who knows?

It was great to be at the meeting in person - such a boost, although I must also note how grateful I am for the Zoom provision.

Saturday, I slept reasonably well, which does help, and managed some housework, some studying and made some inroads into my territory, a large block of flats.  Surely, in the face of all that is happening in the world, many more people might be starting to wake up and realise how much we need the help of our loving Creator.

I just happened to look at the News this afternoon, after a morning at the meeting, via pixel, and an afternoon dozing on the couch, and see that situation in The Gulf is hotting up again horribly.  

The Psalmist promises us that, under the loving rule of the Kingdom of God, we shall have "exquisite delight in the abundance of peace".  It is not just that there will no more war, no more rumours of war, which is a miracle in itself, but there will no longer be unkind thoughts and unkind words .

Isn't that where all war begins?

Walking with Bluebells

 

The Bluebell 

 by Anne Bronte

A fine and subtle spirit dwells
In every little flower,
Each one its own sweet feeling breathes
With more or less of power.

There is a silent eloquence
In every wild bluebell
That fills my softened heart with bliss
That words could never tell.

Yet I recall not long ago
A bright and sunny day,
'Twas when I led a toilsome life
So many leagues away;

That day along a sunny road
All carelessly I strayed,
Between two banks where smiling flowers
Their varied hues displayed.

Before me rose a lofty hill,
Behind me lay the sea,
My heart was not so heavy then
As it was wont to be.

Less harassed than at other times
I saw the scene was fair,
And spoke and laughed to those around,
As if I knew no care.

But when I looked upon the bank
My wandering glances fell
Upon a little trembling flower,
A single sweet bluebell.

Whence came that rising in my throat,
That dimness in my eye?
Why did those burning drops distil —
Those bitter feelings rise?

O, that lone flower recalled to me
My happy childhood's hours
When bluebells seemed like fairy gifts
A prize among the flowers,

Those sunny days of merriment
When heart and soul were free,
And when I dwelt with kindred hearts
That loved and cared for me.

I had not then mid heartless crowds
To spend a thankless life
In seeking after others' weal
With anxious toil and strife.

'Sad wanderer, weep those blissful times
That never may return!'
The lovely floweret seemed to say,
And thus it made me mourn.

https://allpoetry.com/poem/8457985-The-Bluebell-by-Anne-Bront%C3%AB

I guess Anne must have written this bluebell poem during the unhappy days when she had to earn her living as a governess.  How sad all lives seem when seen in retrospect. But how could it be otherwise given the tragedy are are still living in?

It is bluebell season in Sussex again. So I have lived to see another one, for which I am thankful, but we can no longer go for our bluebell walk. It used to be Col, Jacks and me - a spring ritual. Now Jacks is in a wheelchair, in a Care Home, I am housebound, and Col has to go on his own. He has found a lot of photos of himself, Jacks and Bruce in Spain which he is going to take to show her on our next visit.

I need to think about what walks through bluebell woods will be like in the restored earthly paradise.  Once again, I hope we are all there to find out.

The situation in the Middle East had a moment of temporary calm on Tuesday night - I was up in the early hours taking painkillers, and turned the News on. But it all seems more insane than ever today, so who knows?

What human government can ever give us true peace and security - no matter how sincerely it might want to?

I fell deeply asleep after lunch, exhausted after a morning of doing the washing, unloading the Abel & Cole and making a rhubarb crumble (tasks which would not have exhausted me even a few years ago).   I was woken, suddenly, from a dream, by the phone.  Assuming it was Col from The Field I was busy saying : "Hello, hello Col, I can't hear you, the reception must be bad" (as it so often is from The Field), when a man's voice said: "Hello this is the Electric Something. Am I speaking to the homeowner?"  "Yes", I said, "but we don't want any more electricity thanks. We already have some." "Er..." And I put the phone down

He didn't ring back. The poor guy must have thought he had dialled the local Home for the Mentally Challenged by mistake.

Storm David

A new micro moth turned up in Col's moth hotel on the 1st of April - a genuine moth, not a mothy hoax.  I do not yet know its name though.  

Maybe one day a new and unnamed moth will turn up, and we could have the pleasure and privilege of naming it!   How about - just to pick a name at random - The Lovely Susan?

Apparently Storm David was due to arrive in the UK just in time for the Easter weekend.  There were certainly some waves on the Channel on Friday, and it was raining, off and on.  But no storm was evident over the weekend - well not down here in the South.

And Storm Colin is just about to arrive in our dining room if Col, at the next computer, does not achieve a draw with me at the Ordles (Wordle, Quordle, Octordle) that we play every morning. I don't think he is going to win, as I did rather well today, but I am hoping for a draw. Which always seems like the perfect result to me. 

We heard from Anne of the Cape and had quite a long chat by Smartphone. We were/still are talking over happy memories of expat days.  I feel guilty for being so unsociable now - I am just exhausted with the pain and everything - but talking over old times does remind me that it wasn't always like this.  It is amazing the energy you have when you are young - looking back on it that is.  You take it for granted at the time.

We have just been in Memorial season when we memorialise the death of Jesus Christ and thank Jehovah for the precious gift of the ransom.  I spent the first half of my life taking it for granted.  But now I hope that one day I will be able to thank Jehovah for that gift from a perfect heart.

There are some amazing short reels on fb at the moment, giving us glimpses of space as seen from the numerous contraptions we have sent up there.  Assuming they are all real, and not AI, we can actually see how the earth looks like from the vantage point of the moon.  We can see sunrise and sunset from the Martian point of view! 

And how lovely it looks too. What a beautiful planet Jehovah gave us, and what a splendid universe he has set it in. So I also want to thank Him for the powerful guard he has given our jewel of a home, as shown in this reel:  https://www.facebook.com/reel/1209163611242850

The Memorial

Not at Home to Callers 

 by Emily Dickinson

Not at Home to Callers 

Says the Naked Tree -- 

Bonnet due in April -- 

Wishing you Good Day --

https://www.poetrysoup.com/famous/poems/short/april

Bonnet due in April! Great. Yet another poem I wish I had written.  

I have often wanted to write about how beautiful the "naked trees" of winter are - exquisite sculptures every one.  Yet to see a human skeleton... a very different thing, even though it is of course wonderfully made. There has to be a poem in that, if I could only find it.  It is a thought that also ties in with the Memorial celebrations, held worldwide on Thursday night, after sunset.  Because all of us damaged children of Adam are dying.  We need to have that link so fatally broken in Eden restored. And that restoration comes through the ransom sacrifice of Jesus Christ - a superlative gift of love from Jehovah and from Jesus.

The photo above is of a Saffrondrop Bonnet fungus.  With the thought of Emily's poem in mind, I put the word "bonnet" into Col's gallery and this is one of the photos it came up with.

This elegant Bonnet is yet another miracle of beauty and engineering - telling us of the love and wisdom and power that went into the earthly creation.

The Memorial Bible reading continues.  And I am thinking a lot about the rescue the ransom sacrifice of Jesus holds out to all of us if we will only take hold of it.  Wednesday was a day when I was able to be busy with the Kingdom preaching work: my Bible student in the morning, and a double zoom field service session in the afternoon - doing Not Home letters and emails.

Thursday, Himself left very early for The Field. The Sandwich Fairy had done her stuff, so even at that early hour, his sandwiches were ready.  My plan for Thursday, as I am beginning this blog, is to attend the morning worship at 9:30 via pixel, if the Zoom facility is on, and get to the Memorial in the evening.  If all goes to plan, it is the one day of the year that Col is at the Kingdom Hall with me, and I can hold his hand during the prayer.

During the day I hope to have made his crumble, curried the mushrooms, done some studying, a bit more witnessing and some housework.  (And done a fair amount of sofa surfing...)  But we shall see...

Morning worship was lovely, discussing the day text, which is Luke 12:32: Have no fear, little flock, for your Father has approved of giving you the Kingdom

All plans for Thursday were carried out, including the sofa-surfing. And I had Col beside me at the Hall last night as we celebrated the Memorial of Jesus's sacrificial death.  As there were four short prayers altogether, I was able to hold his hand four times.

The text for today is this:  God loved the world so much that he gave his only-begotten Son, so that everyone exercising faith in him might not be destroyed but have everlasting life.​—John 3:16.

Which kind of says it all really.  And explains why we want to memorialise this great and loving gift.