Cats and Snakes

This has been something of a cat Christmas.   We met Janet's cats - Bee and Tabs as they are currently being known -  for the first time, though it took a day or two before they warmed up enough to let us stroke them.  And they still tended to flee in terror anytime one of the visiting Monsters (us) moved too quickly or breathed too deeply.

We arrived in Sheffield on Wednesday last and arrived back in Littlehampton yesterday.

On Tuesday, we drove over the Snake to see Aunt Bea and family.

The Snake Pass (by me)

How beautifully

it winds and wends

the way to Bea's

and back again.

Going backwards to Monday, we went to Jen's - Captain B, Nute, Kathryn and myself - for a delicious veggie lunch - which has become something of a tradition now.  No Ken this year though...  but as long as he is safe in Jehovah's memory, he has a wonderful awakening from the dreamless sleep of death ahead of him. 

Sunday was the big family day, with the Derby mob, the Lilac Tree Farm mob (minus Penny and George - George not too well), and the Derby mob (sans Sami, who is spending the holiday with friends).  Young Harry also came and coped as calmly as usual in the sea of bossy little girls.  We had a buffet, with (what else?) cold turkey, two delicious trifles and a choc log (thank you Helen and Nadine), which worked well as people arrived in relays and ate when they came.

The Day itself was quiet, just 6 of us - which was easier for me as i try to avoid the trappings of Christmas as much as possible  - with a superb turkey dinner cooked by Nute, in spite of a severely damaged thumb.  Trimming of Xmas tree, secaturs, bloodbath, stitching at Casualty required.   And I have already forgotten what we did on the Friday.  Prepared veggies I expect, and Col and Nute went to pick up the turkey from the Real Meat Company Shop.  Plus i was able to pop in to the morning Field Service meeting, courtesy of Zoom.  Thursday was similar - sans turkey - and also I attended the congregation meeting in the evening and found I am on the School this week!  So a bit of time was spent trying to sort that one out, resulting in a Zoom practise with my partner yesterday evening.

I have managed to leave a folder full of papers including my address book behind at the bungalow so am without my contacts.  Nute says she will post it on to me.  I have also managed to bring back one of her towels. Rather a nice one actually that fits my new bathroom very well.  So I thought I had better own up to it in this blog, which she will be reading. So, Nute, if you need it posted, let me know.  Otherwise it will come back with us on our next visit, or you can pick it up on your next visit.

I can only think I am now very out of practise re packing and coming and going.  Or maybe its my age...  you can blame a lot of idiocy on that I find.

Hopefully we were very careful Covid-wise for the whole visit and we all flow-tested ourselves.  

As this will be my last blog for 2021, I must say goodbye to the year.  It has been an odd one, another Covid year, and therefore very difficult for many people.  But it was another year of life, another year of learning more about our loving Creator, Jehovah - and another year of being able to try to tell people about him.  So I am very grateful for it.

What will 2022 bring?  I hope we are all there to find out.  Our part in the Ministry school this week is about the hope that the good news of the Kingdom of God gives us.  And I guess we will need that hope more than ever as the year goes on.

The Pale Horse

I am busy re-reading Agatha Christie's "The Pale Horse"  - which is such an assured and entertaining thriller.  As I have read it many times, I know who did it and why but still can't remember all the details (looks like a perfect alibi to me). But it is so entertaining and it might inspire me to try again to write an Agatha.

And of course it takes its title from one of the riders in the Book of Revelation.  The pub  and villain's lair (spoiler alert, though not really) is called "The Pale Horse".  And I did call the pub in my (advert alert) Disraeli Hall" "The Coat" - full name "The Coat of Many Colours".  Maybe I was partly inspired by this Christie, but it may have been more because I had named the road after Benjamin Disraeli, so a Jewish theme suggested itself.

Obviously I have been thinking about Christmas - the season of peace on earth and goodwill to all men...?  A question:  If Jehovah wanted us to celebrate Jesus' birthday, wouldn't he have had made the date clear to us?   The Seventy Weeks prophecy in the Book of Daniel told the Jews the exact year the Messiah would arrive, but specifies neither month nor day.  And Jesus asked us to commemorate his sacrificial death, not his birth.

I also wonder if the concentration on Jesus as a helpless baby in a crib helps to distract us from thinking about what Jesus is actually doing now, as a powerful king - the King of Jehovah's Kingdom.  If so, then could it be a lethal distraction, as that is what we urgently need to be thinking about?

I found out last Thursday that I have a part in this Thursday's School, though I am a householder, not the one who has to write the script.  We are going to get together in Zoom to sort it out on Wednesday night.

Its the Summary Review, as follows (and my partner will be working on the point "Making it understandable"):

SUMMARY

The Bible gives us hope and helps us to cope with challenges by promising a future filled with happiness.

Review

• Why do people need hope?

• What does the Bible say about the future?

• How can having a hope for the future help you now.

And how much we need a hope for the future.   Isn't it why we need to understand what Jesus is doing now, as the King of God's Kingdom, and work alongside him in the Kingdom preaching work?

My First Flow Test for Covid

Feeling as if I had a bit of a cold, we did do a couple of Covid flow tests. What a kerfuffle.  However, it seems we got it right, the right sort of line appeared on the appropriate thingummy, and for the moment anyway, we are Covid free.  The situation with the new variant - Omicrom - seems to be that it is much more infectious, but possibly less serious. And it does seem - so far - that vaccinations plus booster is effective in keeping it, well not at bay, you can still get it, but in a mild form.

Early days though...

We actually went and did a bit of shopping on Thursday.  Very very difficult as as soon as I put on my mask to go into a shop, my glasses steam up.  I take them off and can see nothing without them.  I gave up after half an hour and not much got bought.  I am still doing my exercises and still being crushed by the crisp packet.  "One day!" I cry, as it wins again.

The world - the current system of things on the earth - continues in its (un)merry way, with a shortage of peace on earth and goodwill to all men.

Here are the experiences of one of my dear Russian sisters, Yelena Menchikova:

"The investigator denied Yelena’s petition to dismiss the case after she explained her actions by quoting from the Bible. According to the investigator, it was the use of Biblical texts that confirmed the “criminal nature” of her activities."

https://www.jw.org/en/news/jw/region/russia/Faithful-Examples-and-Prayer-to-Her-Best-Friend-Jehovah-Strengthen-Sister-Yelena-Menchikova/

Is it a tribute to the power of the Bible that it attracts such hostility?  And given that it is a book that teaches us to "lay down" our weapons, to try to live peacefully with our neighbours, and to treat everyone with the kindness and respect we would want for ourselves, where is the "criminal nature"?

The Shearing Shed

On Saturday morning I trekked down to Malcolm for a haircut.  I returned exhausted with a lot less hair, which was the whole point. Malcolm has had his difficulties through our Lockdown.  Captain B had left very early with Jim - 4.30 alarm clock - for his detectorist trip to Who Knows Where.  Somewhere near Salisbury Plain I think. 

We had our Circuit Assembly on Sunday, in Zoom of course.  The theme was: STRENGTHEN YOUR FAITH - which is so timely, in the face of all that is happening - and all that will yet happen as the current wicked system of things on the earth rushes towards its end, doing all it can to take us down with it.  

I took notes as we went along and I am trying to decipher them now. Because I do remember noting down a couple of things I would like to include in my blog. Hmmmm  - did I take notes, or did a bevy of drunken spiders fall into a bottle of ink and rush all over my big notebook?  It's hard to tell.

The photo is of a Cricket Bat Orb-weaver Spider and was, of course, taken by Captain B.  Whether it has ink on its feet or not, I cannot tell.

In the talk FAITH FOLLOWS THE THINGS HEARD, I (or the spiders) made a little note to myself to mention one of the Scriptures in the blog.  It is Romans 10:13,14, which says:  "For everyone who calls on the name of Jehovah will be saved. However, how will they call on him if they have not put faith in him?  How, in turn, will they put faith in him about whom they have not heard?  How, in turn, will they hear without someone to preach?"

And one very powerful reason for putting faith in Jehovah is the prophecy in the Bible, so much of which has already been fulfilled, down to the last detail.  But how you can you know that unless someone tells you?  I had an intensive religious education, but knew next to nothing about what the Bible said.  

I hope to include another point or two from the Circuit Assembly in my next blogs.  

Sunday night, having returned from his Treasure Hunting and had his tea (steak pie with veggies), the Captain had to rush into his phone box, don his Lowland Rescue Gear, and fly off to the rescue of someone in trouble in our coastal lowlands.  "Is it a butterfly?  Is it a plane? Or is it CAPTAIN BUTTERFLY fluttering to the rescue?!" Though he had to fly straight back again, as the Misper (Missing Person to you and me) suddenly turned up safe and well at home.  

A happy ending.

Winter Haiku

Dan won Professional Masterchef - though how they picked one out of those 3 brilliant finalists - Aaron, Dan and Liam - I do not know.    "Sea urchin on toast for supper?" I suggested.  "No thanks", said Captain B, "I'm off down the Chip Shop." - To be fair the sea urchin on toast menu, though pronounced "delicious", did not make it to the final.

I feel like starting to write again - and am hoping to find some inspiration for a small poem, so here is one from a master of the form:

  Winter solitude by Matsuo Basho

Winter solitude--
in a world of one color
the sound of wind.

Can this inspire me to a Haiku of my own - one that will convey the damp, rather grey and too warm winters we seem to be getting?  What would typify winter now?  Lots of snowy cards and a ton of old movies with Christmas in the title, but no actual snow?  A world full of colour in the form of glittering fairy lights maybe?

Covid Winter... if we are locked down again before Christmas it would be something along the lines of "the silence of cash registers" in 17 well chosen syllables.  But can they lock us down again - as so many business rely on their Christmas cash boost?

Anyway here goes, a Covid Winter Haiku from MatSue Knighto:

Winter dankness--

in a world of fairy lights

the sound of solitude.

Mind you, I am a solitary soul - people make me nervous - and why does anyone, ever, want to have, or to go to a party?  Yet, as most people do, it is clearly me who is out of step.  So this Haiku should not be seen as a lament.   Anyway, as a Jehovah's Witness I would be happy not to have Christmas at all, apart from the family get together side of it, of course.

And I guess I should be humble and admit that I am no Matsuo Basho.  It's fun trying though. He gives me a standard to aspire to. And here is a lovely point from Thursday's Scripture for the day:  We remember that if we are to be truly useful to Jehovah, our humility should exceed our ability. 

So true, because unless we do things Jehovah's way, which means taking the time and effort to find out who our Creator is and what he requires of us, all our best efforts will be futile in the end.

Funerals - and Fungi

Lovely fungi foto by Captain B of a Wrinkled Peach - but is there an unfortunate metaphor there.  Surely not? Surely I am as young and lovely as I ever was?   Oh dear.   Though I must also say that I am more appreciative of the wonderful gift of life every day that goes by.

That crisp packet still remains undented despite all my efforts at the "Crush the Crisp Packet" exercises. In fact I am wondering if I have gone and picked a packet that has been instructed to do some "Crush the Spine" exercises by its physio.

We both had Zoom chats with our siblings on Monday. All seems well - the cats have not appeared on camera yet, nor been allowed out, but they continue to settle in.  We are hearing from family and friends daily which is nice, and I am trying to reply to all with the new cards Col has had made from some of his many splendid photos.

Another tiny child has been tortured to death, under the nose of our Orwellian "care" system.  Star Hobson was tormented by her mother and the mother's brutal girlfriend. In plain view - they videoed some of it apparently. Once again I cannot bear to read much beyond the headlines.  Severe bruising, many doctors visits, and once again the grandparents tried to sound the alarm with the Social Workers, but were ignored and brushed off.  Though the tabloids today are suggesting worse. They allege they were told they were being "bigoted" by making these complaints and trying to save this small child from being beaten to death.   What a rotten rotten system it is - I mean the whole world system.  And how much we need the loving rule of the Kingdom of God. 

I attended a funeral on Tuesday, for Steve.  In Zoom, and in shining contrast.  He was a loving husband, father, grandfather, brother, son.  The short and touching - and funny - memorial was full of pictures of him and his family and you could see what a loving family he had, and hear it in their memories of him.  If only every child  on earth had a father like Steve.  

One day, of course, they will.  

I hope little Star will when Jehovah wakes her from the dreamless sleep of death. Her life with her mother was a nightmare, but there will be no more nightmares for her. And held safe in "the everlasting arms", - safe in Jehovah's memory, every hair of her head numbered - she could not be with someone who loves her more.

In the Bleak Midwinter

Not that it is bleak exactly, or particularly cold.  It is a grey coldish day so far (8.37 a.m. as I start this blog) and the Channel is grey and fairly calm. And pretty cold I would imagine.

I found this poem for December:

AN INTERVIEW  by John B Tabb

I sat with chill December

Beside the evening fire

"And what do you remember",

I ventured to inquire,

"Of seasons long forsaken?"

He answered in amaze

"My age you have mistaken 

 I've lived but thirty days".

https://discoverpoetry.com/poems/december-poems/

Poor Captain B is limping along now, so we are a matching pair.  Too much metal detecting - not as young as he was - I say - but he won't have it, and roared off very early this morning to some distant field with Jim and the lads.  And who can blame him?  Just yesterday we were a young married couple...   Yes, we are in the Winter of our lives, yet we have lived but thirty days it seems.   

As the book of Ecclesiastes tell us, Jehovah has put eternity into our hearts.  We were originally made to live forever.

Ecclesiastes 3:11 says:  "He has made everything beautiful in its time.+ He has even put eternity in their heart; yet mankind will never find out the work that the true God has made from start to finish."

So we will never stop learning - wonderful things, new things. It is a thought to hold onto through difficult times. And we have the help of the Sunday morning meeting coming up, via Zoom. The title of the public talk is: A Cleansed Earth, Will You Live to See it?

I hope we all will

We had a long Zoom chat with Julia 1, and have an invite to stay with her again the next time we make it up North.   I have no idea when that might be though given the state of the Covid crisis.  It is not at all clear what happens next, whether we are heading for the mild flu-like version or yet another lockdown.

Time will tell. In the meantime, we continue to be careful.

Storm Barra

Storm Barra arrived on Tuesday.  The sea was calm before dawn under a  sky full of clouds, but by noon it was roaring away like a million freight trains and the waves were spectacular.  Our snow fell as rain, but it was snowing in other parts.   The Captain gallantly struggled out to post my latest  letters, which included a card to a sister who has just lost her husband.  I cannot imagine...   We have sent her a card with a picture of Irises, made from one of Bea's silk paintings.  

I have also done letters/cards for Pete and Barbara, Richard and Gale, and Rob and Judy. 

My trip to physio has crippled me. Somehow i managed to rub my foot sore - I am no longer used to wearing shoes.  And a few days of these very mild exercises, in which my strongest efforts have not managed to put even one dent in a crisp packet. have left me hobbling round with very sore knees.

On Wednesday morning we woke to find a calm sea outside. And still no snow. Amazing how it can calm down.  The metal detectorists were probably out on the beach as who knows what the immense seas of Barra might have thrown up.  I would love to go and do a bit of beachcombing myself but I can't even make it downstairs at the moment.

The Captain was off on a rather grim search and rescue yesterday. They are looking for the body of a murder victim. I can say no more than that, I don't really know any more than that. It is kept very quiet for obvious reasons.  So I had to take in the Waitrose order by myself. If I had thought ahead I would have asked for it to come in plastic bags. We do without and Col loads it into large plastic containers, brings them to the kitchen while i unload them as fast as I can,  and then I bring the empties back for a refill.  It was going to be a long process without him...

To continue the story - and I hope the excitement and suspense of my supermarket delivery isn't proving too much for my more sensitive readers - maybe I should have included a Trigger Warning? - all went well.  The guy who delivered them was very kind. He took one look at me and did all the unloading himself into the plastic containers Col had kindly left ready by the door.  And when I apologised for not being thoughtful enough to  ask for it to be in plastic bags this time - which would have been much easier for him to unload - he told me that they did not do plastic bags anymore.  So - no regrets.

My day was reasonably productive.  Field service in the morning - the meeting and then working with a sister afterwards for an hour or so.  And I caught up on correspondence and paperwork in the afternoon.

I creaked slowly through my exercises - with the crisp packet yet again wrestling me to the floor.

The power of the waves of Storm Barra made me think of the power behind the creation, the English Channel being just a speck in a vast universe, and yet full of such energy.  The Inspired Scriptures tell us that matter - the universe - comes from energy - Jehovah's dynamic energy.  When we look up into a clear night sky we can get a dizzying glimpse of the energy behind creation:

        “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)

No Crisps were Harmed in the Making of this Blog

And that is just the problem. They should have been.  One of the exercises my kind young physio gave me is called - actually - "Crush the crisp packet".  You stand against a door and put a packet of crisps in the hollow of your back and in some mysterious way using your abdominal muscles, you crush them.

I have been huffing and puffing away all weekend, but not a crisp has been crushed as yet.  I don't think I have even put a crack in them.

There is a small boat travelling fast across the water - Eastwards - as I begin this blog, early Sunday morning. I can just see a light progressing over the dark water.

Col's 2022 Calendars - from his fish photos - came and copies have already been dispatched to family and friends.  The pic above is one of my favourites.  It is a Threespot Angelfish, and is Mr (or Ms) July 2022.

I am having a discussion with a friend from Uni days - an old friend obviously - about how long mankind has been on the earth.  The Bible is very specific about it, because of the genealogical tables which go back to Adam.  Jesus has a complete genealogy.  We have been here for just over 6,000 years.

The earth itself is very very much older than Adam according to Genesis - and that is at least something we can agree on.

Two more friends from our expat years have been in contact, both Julias.  We are hoping to arrange a Zoom chat with Julia 1 in the week.  I have already sent her one of Col's new cards, and hope to get one off mid month to Julia 2 to welcome her to her new home.   While I hope they are both doing well, I also hope they are thinking seriously about the state of the world.  Not only are the powers that be telling us that the planet is very close to ruin, but it is the day to day horrors which come so thick and fast. 

The torture and murder of six year old Arthur Labinjo-Hughes at the hands of his father and stepmother has been haunting the headlines.  It took place under the nose of our "care" services.  They pair have at least both been jailed for a long long time.  

The system of things on the earth is so cruel, but it won't be when tiny Arthur next opens his eyes.  He will find himself in an earth ruled by the law of loving-kindness.   One of the heartbreaking videos his tormentors recorded (apparently, I did not watch them and tried not to read beyond the headlines) was of him sobbing and saying that nobody loved him.

When Jehovah wakes Arthur from the dreamless sleep of death, he will be loved and will know he is loved.   And Jehovah assures us that "distress will not rise up a second time".  Never again will we be living in a tragedy.

In the meantime, held safe in "the everlasting arms", safe in God's memory, Arthur could not be with someone who loves him more.

The Cats get their Paws under the Table

The cats' names are Layla and Abra. They are mother and daughter, and they are continuing to settle in judging by the latest bulletin on facebook:

The cats are settling in, spurning anything but the most expensive food, stopping me going to sleep by squawking outside the bedroom door until I let them in, and generally showing signs of getting their feet under the table. Maybe they'll be visible next meeting xxx

We may actually see them at the next Zoom meeting!   By the time we visit, they will be ruling the household with a rod of iron  - clattering in and out through the catflap in the guest bedroom all hours of the night, trampling over us before settling on the bed, and nipping us sharply if we dare to fidget just as they are falling sleep.   Just like old times in fact.

Captain B arranged the family flowers for Janet's funeral next week - we chose a spray that will include lilies.   But, thank God - and also thanks to Nute and Pen - it seems that her cats are settling happily in their lovely new home, which would matter more to her than all the flowers in the world.

The Covid crisis continues, with the new variety already in from South Africa.  However, if this proves to be a milder form, one we can all safely catch and recover from, it could mark the end of the pandemic.  Its too early to tell yet though, and masks have been made compulsory again in most public places.  They are worn in all medical venues as a matter of course now.

Given my front toothless state, that is a bit of a selfish silver lining,

And now its December. Once again I ask, who is shortening these years?  They used to last forever it seemed, now they are gone in a matter of weeks.

Thursday (as I am starting this blog) I have my first physio session which I am dreading. It also means I will have to drive for the first time in over a year as I can no longer walk that far, which is why I need the physio. The idea is to strengthen the muscles in my back, as they cannot give me a replacement spine.  And I should not have been so scared, the physio was lovely and she was very helpful. I now have a series of 3 exercises to do - one of which Captain B will need to help me with.  And I am booked to see her again in January.  

However, here is the thing to hold on to, the promise from our Creator, Jehovah, that he will "make all things new". That includes, of course, our damaged and dying bodies.  Think what Jesus did when he was on the earth, how he healed people.  Wasn't he showing us what he can and will do when he is ruling over the earth as the King of God's Kingdom?

Storm Janet brings SNOW!

Janet's two cats are now at the bungalow, in their new home. Nute and Pen picked them up on the day that Storm Arwen was raging. So they have re-named it Storm Janet.  It was a momentous day for the cats - they are rescues, and very shy - not used to people.

However, while one is still in hiding, safe in the house, the catflap will not come into play until they are well settled obviously, one is, well I will let my sister tell it:  "These cats are "not well socialised and very timid", which is probably why the most timid one is sitting on the table in front of me eating my porridge, dipping her tail in my tea, and uttering loud threats at next door's cat who thinks my garden is his. Her daughter is still in hiding, but will come out for food and a quick stroke."

It is looking good! Janet would have been very pleased to see them settling in so well, and so quickly. My sister has a lovely garden for them - rambling and with lots of wild bits. My other sister has a lovely garden too, but they also have a large and bouncy dog on the premises, so I don't think the cats could have settled so quickly.

On Monday morning, we woke up to a white-ish world - we had had a small fall of snow overnight. It looked lovely, but was nothing compared to what Storm Janet had given the rest of the UK. I am glad it was not a Detectorist day, as the roads would have been a worry. Captain B and Jim had a good day out yesterday, and the Captain found a 1917 farthing.

If that farthing could talk, and had it ever been to Sheffield in its travels, might it remember me?  I could have spent it in the sweet shop on a Saturday (pocket money day), It might have bought me an aniseed ball.  I seem to remember they were 4 for a penny.

Sweets were strictly rationed in my youth - initially by food rationing and then by sensible parenting.  Which is probably one reason why I still have most of my own teeth.  Although having said that my dental surgery crisis continues with no end in sight.

How much I need to remember that Jehovah is going to "make all things new".  My body is wearing out fast, and I only hope that my mind won't be following it.  We, the damaged children of disobedient Adam, have never yet known what it is to be truly alive, let alone perfect. But that is what our Creator is offering us - the life and perfection our first parents so tragically lost.

Please don't turn down the offer.

Aussie Gold Hunters

The Watchtower study at the Sunday meeting was based on these words:  “I will shake all the nations, and the precious things of all the nations will come in.”​—HAG. 2:7.

We are living in the time of this shaking.   And an illustration occurred to me, which I did make into a comment.  I am a great fan of Aussie Gold Hunters - love them all, am so pleased when they do find gold, they work so hard.  So I was thinking about how they dig up a pile of rock - ordinary rock to my eyes, grind it down and then it goes onto a violent set of shaker trays, and out of these rocks, the gold appears.

Every one of us can become gold in Jehovah's eyes, if we want to.  If we listen to him, and do out best to accept and follow his moral standards.

The photo of Col's I have chosen for this blog shows Sea Sandwort - a hint of gold among rocks/pebbles.

The article says, in part:  "The shaking that Haggai describes is not like a literal earthquake, which brings only destruction. Instead, it produces good results. Jehovah himself tells us: “I will shake all the nations, and the precious things of all the nations will come in; and I will fill this house with glory.” (Hag. 2:7) What did this prophecy mean for those who lived in Haggai’s time? And what does it mean for us today? We will discuss the answers to those questions and also learn how we have a part in shaking the nations today."

https://wol.jw.org/en/wol/d/r1/lp-e/2021562#h=8

On Tuesday night Captain Butterfly and I attended - via Zoom - a meeting for all the Membership Secretaries in Butterfly Conservation.  It was good and helpful, though not so much for me of course as this marks the end of my term as Membership Secretary.  My Butterfly filing cabinet is now empty - and there have been no queries from that last set of Membership Packages I sent out, so I guess that is it.  All done and dusted. And while I feel a bit sad about it, I know i don't have the energy anymore. 

Having said all that, I got a change of address on Thursday morning and have advised HQ and all accordingly.  However, its no problem to deal with these small queries and changes that will probably go on appearing for a while.

Storm Arwen is on the way, arriving apparently this afternoon.  At 3.10 on Thursday afternoon it suddenly began to pelt down, catching Col as he went down to his car to pack it up for today's expedition.  I wondered if it was Arwen arriving early, but it stopped almost as soon as it started, and the sea remained calm. 

The News is full of a new and alarming Covid variation that has apparently turned up in South Africa and is just starting to spread.   The worrying thing is if the current vaccinations will be effective against it.

And there has a been a tragedy in the Channel. A boat of migrants, mainly from the troubles in the Middle East it seems, has gone down, with many casualties...   I hope hope hope no such boats are trying to make the crossing today, with Storm Arwen arriving.  The sea will be so cold now too.  

What a sad world system we are living in. And how much we need the loving heavenly Kingdom of God ruling over us.  I hope that those who died in the Channel yesterday have a wonderful awakening ahead of them, into the restored earthly paradise, where they will never again be what my father once was "displaced people".   The whole earth will be a paradise of peace the next time they see it.

At Day-close in November

I have always loved the poetry of Thomas Hardy. So here he is, as another November comes to its end.  He has been a long time gone now - but I hope that, one day, when the time comes, Jehovah will wake him from the dreamless sleep of death, and he will see this lovely earth once again.

At day-close in November

Thomas Hardy

The ten hours’ light is abating,

And a late bird wings across,

Where the pines, like waltzers waiting,

Give their black heads a toss.

Beech leaves, that yellow the noontime,

Float past like specks in the eye;

I set every tree in my June time,

And now they obscure the sky.

And the children who ramble through here

Conceive that there never has been

A time when no tall trees grew here,

That none will in time be seen.

I am thinking that, perhaps, during the Thousand years, a lot of the earth's forests - their tall trees - will be restored.  

The photo, taken by Captain Butterfly, is of a Spiny Puffball.

I had my Zoom chat with the siblings Monday morning  - all are OK, and Nute seems better, though still coughing.  It is not Covid which is a relief.

Janet's funeral will be on the 6th December. We will not be able to go, but we are going to send some flowers from the family.  I think Janet would have liked us to do that.  She herself knows nothing now, in the dreamless sleep of death.  But I hope she has a wonderful awakening ahead of her.

I had a big day out on Tuesday afternoon.  Captain Butterfly chauffered me and we picked up  some magazines, delivered some of them to another sibling, collected a copy of a book I had lent out, and checked on 3 addresses of people i used to call on, hoping to send them a copy of the current magazine:

https://www.blogger.com/u/1/blog/post/edit/1117679443580926865/6104206027556572061

My blood pressure is up, and I have to measure it every day for the next 10 days.  I had a long chat with a sister who is even older than I am, and we bemoaned the difficulties of old age, as everything is wearing out.

I have decided I can still say I am in the November of my life - but that December is rushing towards me fast.  So this time of year is a giant looming metaphor.  It is beautiful though, as are all seasons, all months.  The creation has a magnificent glory along with a tender beauty.

And so far we - the damaged children of Adam  - have only had a glimpse of it!

A Bunch of Red Roses

Disraeli Hall has earned me a bunch of beautiful red roses!  It has done the rounds of 3 local friends, who all enjoyed it, and who have bought me flowers.    Once again, they say it kept them turning the page.  

My Smartphone continues to torment me.  It just pinged, which always throws me into a panic.  Apparently it wanted to tell me about "Anti-ageing haircuts for older women"!!!  

How double dare it?  What happened to that law of robotics which meant that AI machines were not supposed to attack and insult us people?

Captain B,  left very early on Saturday loaded down with metal detectors.  I devoted Thursday morning to making a big fruitcake for his lunches, and I added a slice for Jim.  It is another reliable Cranks recipe - a boil and bake fruitcake that you have to make in two stages, as you simmer fruit, orange juice, sugar and butter and leave to cool before you add the eggs and dry ingredients.

If you did not allow for cooling, I guess you would end up with scrambled egg cake.

Worryingly Col has had a bad knee this week - detectorist's knee in my opinion - and I was hoping he might take the weekend off.  But no.  I just have to hope the knee holds up.  He is not young either.  It is very distressing to think of him getting old and maybe no longer able to get out into the countryside, or even drive.   But - one day  - in the restored earthly paradise - I hope we will be forever young - and always learning.

He is off again this morning, with Jim. The alarm clock went off at 5.00 a.m. and they set off for the outer planets any moment now.  Col is in the kitchen driving the coffee machine as I type. He always does breakfast, while I do lunch and supper.  His current lunch is already made - sandwiches and two pieces of fruitcake, and hopefully, if the mince thaws out in time, he will come back to a cottage pie for supper.

I have my congregation Zoom meeting this morning, followed by a Zoom chat with my congregational siblings.  Then hopefully I will get something done this afternoon.  I have some correspondence to do, a couple of cards to send, that sort of thing. And there is always always housework.

Stoical and Cheerful

"We were just saying how stoical and cheerful you are, considering all these health problems," said kind Dr.Amin.  The "we" referred to the young student who was working with her.  Meanwhile Captain B was muttering something from behind his mask that sounded like "You want to try living with her!" 

Anyway, that is another check up - Dermatology - done.  They have given me some steroid patches to try. 

Its getting to the stage now where, when they ask for a list of my current medications, it might be quicker and simpler just to list the medications I am NOT taking.  Its all so unfair and...  but I must remember that I am "stoical and cheerful"...  Mind you, Dr.Amin has a great bedside manner and probably says that to all her patients.  If not, and if she means it, then all credit goes to the loving and supportive congregation arrangement into which Jehovah gathers all who will come to him.  For one thing, the constant teaching provides us with such a wonderful hope - a hope of perfect health, just for starters.

By nature I am a wimp, with a backbone of solid custard.

Had a nice hour with the siblings on Zoom on Monday, and an hour Wednesday morning on the field service, working out letters to send with this current, and very comforting, Watchtower magazine:  https://www.jw.org/en/library/magazines/watchtower-no2-2021-may-jun/

Col has had some more cards made up from his photos: 1 Butterfly, 1 Moth, and 2 Clownfish. If I can catch him for a moment as he flitters about I hope one at least of the card pics will be heading this blog. 

It makes me sad to see the Clowns though, enchanting as they are, as a recent David Attenborough programme showed us how what close families they have, as father, mother and children all work together. And I think of how many clownfish families were torn apart and the survivors confined to tiny tanks and aquariums.

I long for the Kingdom of God to be ruling over the earth, so that we can take care of all the earthly creatures in the perfect, loving and unselfish manner that our Creator intends. The animal creation has suffered so much, through no fault of its own.

Col has also made the cards into an advert for my books Waiting for Gordo and Disraeli Hall.  I am sending cards today to Sharon, Jo, and June, but also pointing out that as they are local I can lend them a copy of either book if they want to read it.  They do not have to buy it.  I have also sent a card to Kathryn, who has her own copy and has already read it.  I have also packaged up a magazine and Clouded Yellow card for Julia of Nottingham.  I am sort of hoping she might buy DHall.  But I have no idea if she has read and enjoyed Gordo or not. She has a copy, but she has never said anything about it.

 

The Ego Has Landed

Did I ever post this great review of Waiting for Gordo from Curtis Urness, on Goodreads?

Even if I did, I am still going to post it again (see heading of blog). Mr Urness says:

"When I first opened the pages of Waiting for Gordo, I was expecting a light-hearted vacation story, good for a few chuckles. While it certainly was that, the novel, like the mysterious island paradise that serves as its setting, turned out to be much more.

Miranda is on a diving holiday with her stalwart husband, Jim, and a group of expat British nationals (plus one American) at an Indian Ocean island resort. She is not there to explore the ocean deep with the others but to relax, enjoy the seclusion, and begin work on a novel. While she mines her friends’ gossip for story ideas, Miranda clearly prefers the company of her imaginary Hollywood alter-ego model for the heroine of her novel, Carmen Miranda, and Carmen’s equally imaginary suitor, Al Nino. Oh, and there’s also the Bathroom Cockroach, with whom she has negotiated a nonaggression treaty and who serves throughout the story as a winged objective correlative.

Just as every rose has its thorns, so does this island – plenty of them. It is called Small Island, but not only because it occupies a minute geographic space. There is some small terror lurking there that motivates the hired help to leave every evening rather than spend the night in its presence. Miranda senses it but cannot quite define its nature. Curious smells, such as sandalwood, permeate the air; curious creatures scuttle through the undergrowth. In the center of the atoll, the palatial estate of the isle’s owner, a wealthy Arab with a magical name, is surrounded by a gated wall overgrown with thorns. Yes, there are literal thorns, which the island groundskeepers struggle to keep under control, and which pierce Miranda’s tender skin.

Meanwhile the weather is idyllic, and the diving is great. Outside the periphery, a fierce storm rages, preventing Jim’s experienced diving partner, Gordo, and another group of tourists from arriving. Hence the title. Odd misfortunes start to befall the small group. The hired help and supplies become scarce. Miranda knows she has some measure of protection, thanks to her pact with the Bathroom Cockroach, but inevitably she must come to terms with the malevolent force that threatens her existence.

As the action progresses, the narrative becomes even more fanciful and absurd. I am reminded of the writings of Polish-Argentinian author Witold Gombrowicz. A more contemporary comparison would be with the works of Neil Gaiman. Knight guides the reader along with reserved wit and irony. This is the most fun book I’ve read in a long time. If you’re looking to for an enjoyable read, you can’t go wrong by Waiting for Gordo."

https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/35746959-waiting-for-gordo

Thank you Curtis.  I appreciate it so much. It is so good when people really enjoy reading the book.

And on that sad Tuesday last, I got Kathryn's beautiful Autumn card, with her news, and a photo of her two attractive grandchildren.  Her health is not at all good either. And that is the dilemma of age that all of us, the damaged children of disobedient Adam, are caught up in.   She also said that Disraeli Hall "certainly held me in its grip".   I do try to make people want to turn the page and find out what happens next.

Col had a good day yesterday.  He found a silver groat - in very good condition.  It will appear on his blog in time.  He also found a lovely little bronze bell - a harness bell - as in "jingle bells, jingle bells".

I had a Zoom hour with my siblings this morning - and Nute is feeling a lot better.  She and Pen are hoping to be able to go and get Janet's cats next week, if her recovery continues.  In the meantime, there is a good arrangement in place for their care at home.  It is so sad to think they might be waiting for Janet to return. Though I also suspect they may know she will not.

What a sad world system we live in now.  But not for much longer.  Here are some comforting verses from Psalm 37, which promise us exquisite delight in the abundance of peace, right here on the earth. And this is a promise from our Creator, Jehovah, who cannot and who does not lie, and whose every purpose is fulfilled.  He can and will achieve what no human government can.

• "Just a little while longer, and the wicked will be no more;

  You will look at where they were,

  And they will not be there.

  But the meek will possess the earth,

  And they will find exquisite delight in the abundance of peace."

A Farewell to Janet and the End of an Era

While I was in the Zoom meeting on Tuesday morning an email came through from Pen to tell us that Janet had died in hospital.  So another old friend, who I have known pretty much from my teenage years, has gone.  She was my Nute's friend really, but we all got to know her.  I am glad though that it was quick at the end. She was only admitted to hospital a few days ago.  Motor Neurone disease had left her unable to speak, unable to eat (she was fed by tube for the last 6 months) and she was losing the use of her hands, so would have no longer been able to communicate in writing.

It was so awful that we are glad she is now out of it.  

She was always a great haven for stray cats, and her last 2 are being fed. Someone is going in daily and frantic efforts are in place to find a home for them. Both my sisters, who have houses and gardens, can take them, and will take them, if necessary.   I wish we could. But we live a second floor flat, and these are indoor-outdoor cats.

The cats lives have been devastated too.  Its the end of an era for them; the end of the Janet Era for me and my siblings.  My brother in Oz  was saying he found her a bit daunting when he was a young lad as she was so attractive. Which she always was, though she would never believe it.  She was stunning.  I expect she was beautiful right up to the end.

The last time the Captain and I saw her was, sadly, at Ken's funeral.

I have picked a lovely Clouded Yellow butterfly photograph for this blog, in her memory.  It is one of Col's of course.

I hope that when the time comes, during the Thousand Years, Jehovah will wake Janet from the dreamless sleep of death. When he does she will find herself in an earth being restored to the paradise of perfection it was always meant to be.   It will be such a wonderful awakening for her. And, while the Inspired Scriptures have nothing to say about this, I can't help hoping that all her rescued cats will be there to greet her. She loved every single one of them. And for sure they loved her.

And Jehovah, our Creator, is love.

This week marked the end of my 10 year stint as Membership Secretary for Sussex Butterfly Conservation.  So another era ended.  I packaged up what should be the last batch of new members under my reign on Monday, to hit the post on Tuesday.  We have to hand over all the paperwork to the new secretary and I have to make out my last expenses form, but that will be it. I spent much of Tuesday, sorting and shredding, and emptying my Butterfly Filing Cabinet.

I feel a bit sad.  And I have had some lovely emails thanking me.  But its time for a fresh face to take over and maybe revitalise things.  And my energy levels are way way down.

A card of Autumn flowers from Kathryn cheered me up. She remembered it is my favourite season. And she also wanted to tell me she really liked Disraeli Hall too.  Which was a positive note in an otherwise sad week.

And I did my part in the Ministry School last night, with the help of my partner, who gave me all the right cues.  The Bible verses we were using was this lovely promise from Revelation 21:3,4, which says:

• "With that I heard a loud voice from the throne say: “Look! The tent of God is with mankind, and he will reside with them, and they will be his people. And God himself will be with them. And he will wipe out every tear from their eyes, and death will be no more,+ neither will mourning nor outcry nor pain be anymore. The former things have passed away.”

This promise tells us what will happen on the earth under the loving rule of the Kingdom of God.  When the whole earth is a paradise, then our real lives will begin.  And I hope very much I will be there, the Captain will be there, my siblings will be there, and Janet will be there... I hope all of us will be.

A Grumpy Old Woman

 "We'll sink another mine shaft down" says a miner from Aussie Gold Hunters (one of my top favourite programmes).  

"As opposed to sinking it UP!"  I scream, rubber brick at the ready.

"I'm reducing the sauce down." says just about any TV Chef.

"As opposed to reducing it UP!" I scream, hurling aforementioned rubber brick at the screen.

"The word down is INCLUDED in the words "sinking" and "reducing."It makes no sense to add it."  I sob quietly to myself.

Surely the dumbing-down of language does matter?  And is this a continual process from the immense complexity of the earliest languages to the gutter grunts of some movie scripts and some music these days?

Or am I just a Grumpy Old Woman?

A consolation?  As we continually study the the Bible in the congregations, I do have in front of me all the time the perfect, exact and beautiful way Jehovah, the Creator of language, uses language.  I feel more and more grateful that Wilhemina and Ruby called at my Sheffield doorstep all those years ago, Bibles and Watchtower magazines in hand, to introduce me to the beauty and power of the Inspired Scriptures.

Anyway back to being grumpy.  I ventured another little walk yesterday. And I do mean little. Simply taking the recyc down to the bins, and walking back up the stairs. And am I paying for it today? Answer: Yes. Pain in right leg woke me up early to take as many meds as possible.  Now they have booked me in for Physio. Even getting myself there is probably going to cripple me, let alone doing anything even vaguely physio-related.

This is what comes of being past my sell by date.  On the doubleplusgood side though, we are still here, me and the Captain, and I appreciate the gift of life more and more every day.  Its all so interesting and so wonderful.  And I appreciate the Captain more and more too.  Spending lockdown with him has been great.  Not sure what he might have to say about this, so I am quickly going to lock my blogdoor and we will leave lockdown as a peaceful idyll.

I just found I had another lovely review for Waiting for Gordo" on good reads! I will probably blog it, as I am thrilled when people say they loved reading the books.

The Wetlands in Autumn - Goodbye to Terry

Wednesday began with the wonderful news that the 4 year old girl, kidnapped from her tent, has been found alive and well.  Cleo Smith was taken from a camping site in Western Australia where she and her parents were holidaying and was missing for 18 days.  The trauma of this will not quickly fade, but she is found and back home with her parents.

If only every such case could have such a positive ending.  Though I am looking forward to the earth as it will be be under the loving rule of the Kingdom of God, when there will be no-one left on the earth who would dream of hurting a child - or an animal - or anyone.

Thursday morning was spent making a chicken casserole (talking of hurting animals, though we do always try to buy free range organic... its such a difficult world at the moment).  And the afternoon was my 6 monthly check up at Rheumatology.  I am still clinging on to life, apparently.

Friday morning, after the meeting we had a short walk in the Wetland Trust.  They have a new aviary, the Coastal Creek, that you can walk through. There are notices outside warning that these birds are new and timid and so we are not to shout loudly or run around,  And there is also a notice asking us to be careful not to step on any birds.  So we obediently and carefully tiptoed round all the exotic wildfowl slumbering contentedly on the paths, saying, in hushed voices, that they did not look all that timid to us.

Credit to the staff at the Wetland - that they had settled in so well.

I, on the other hand, was rather nervous of the pelicans, at loose in the smaller lake.  I haven't really got over seeing one swallow a pigeon whole in St.James Park.  I don't think i would risk falling asleep while they were around.

The big lake has been drained (see Col's photo) as they are working on the Arundel Lagoon project.  So we had the Hide to ourselves, and saw a toad and a couple of herons. The toad, wisely, kept well out of the herons' way.  Though, once paradise is restored, they will be able to be friends again.

There was sad news too, as we heard that Terry had died.  We often used to see him at the Wetland Trust, have lunch with him there, and give him lifts to and fro. And in the days when they did the monthly talks, he, Jackie and the two of us used to go. Col chauffered us all, and Terry would buy us the coffee at the break.

He loved the natural world, the creation. He knew a lot about it - especially birds - and took some great photographs.  And he was a genuine nice guy.   So I do have hope that, when the time comes, God will wake him from the dreamless sleep of death and he will see this lovely earth again.

Its now Saturday morning and, depressingly, I am paying for that very short walk. The pain - in left leg and right hand (why hand?) - woke me up in the early hours and I am painkillered up and hoping it does not get any worse.  We have the meeting this morning and I will need to find a volunteer to partner me on Thursday night, as one of the elders rang yesterday to ask if I would stand in on the third part in the School, as the assignee had had to drop out.

I will also need to be able to get myself dressed if I am to appear on the Zoom camera.  Captain B left early for a days intensive SUSSAR training, looking very handsome in his rescue outfit, so I can't ask him to help.  I don't think getting me dressed would warrant a SUSSAR callout.  

https://www.sussar.org.uk/

The Bonfire Came and Went

The Giant Bonfire on the Green on Saturday night, which would usually still be glowing embers on Monday morning, was extinguished by the very heavy rain on Sunday.  We didn't even watch the fireworks this year - though we certainly heard them!

The Glasgow Climate Summit began on the 1st and we are told we are one minute to midnight, climate-disaster wise.  Yet what, realistically, can these leaders, those who have turned up, do about it?  Talking of carbon footprints, quite a few of the delegates allegedly arrived by private jet.

At one time, would it even have seemed possible we could bring a whole planet to ruin, let alone the only one we have to live on?   Yet now doesn't it seem that, if we are left to ourselves, that is exactly what we will do?

But are we left to ourselves?   Two thousand years ago, Jehovah had a specific promise written down and preserved for us to this day. In it, he assures us that he will "bring to ruin those ruining the earth".  (Revelation 11:18)  And Jesus himself showed us while he was on the earth that, as the King of Jehovah's Kingdom, that he could control the natural elements.

When he calmed the storm on the Sea of Galilee, his disciples said: “What sort of person is this? Even the winds and the sea obey him.”   

https://www.jw.org/en/library/magazines/watchtower-no2-2021-may-jun/

We have both talked to our siblings on Zoom, and all seems well.  And Jacks seems to be keeping quite cheerful under the circumstances, as is Jean.   I had a chat with Bea of the North, and she is coping, as ever.  

My Glaucoma test results came back OK, for which I am thankful - very thankful.  I have two hospital appointments this month and the best I can hope for is that I am no worse.  Which is what I am hoping.

A Bear with a Sore Shoulder

 

A sunrise photo by Captain B from a few days ago when the cloud mass was pressing down on the rising sun, to wonderful effect.

You will have heard of a bear with a sore head. Well I am a bear with a sore shoulder, my good shoulder too, which makes things very difficult as neither arm now has much reach.  GRRR  Grrrrr.  Best stay out of my way, all you hapless hikers.

Col has been sorting through the photos from our long ago tour of Scotland.  How young we look,  And how beautiful Scotland is.  

We spent an afternoon watching the valiant salmon leaping up this high and rocky waterfall.   Where does the time go? 

I stepped out onto the balcony early Thursday morning.  Captain B had left at the crack of dawn for... one of the outer planets, judging by the time his alarm call went off.  Let's hope King Canute and various Romans visited it too and dropped lots of jewellery and gold coins while there.  Now that would be a Detectorist find to change history!

I think we often underestimate our ancestors, forgetting that they were actually nearer to perfection - closer to that perfect start - than we are.  But... horse-drawn spacecraft would be a stretch.

Anyway, the sun was pretty much up and colouring the clouds so I looked towards the West to the river mouth.  And it was lovely.  The light, the blue colour of the sea - there was dark cloud over the river and the light of the rising sun was starting to stretch towards it over the water.  I did thank Jehovah for making it all so beautiful, just for us.  There was one valiant dogwalker with two dogs on the Green.  

It would have been a lovely walking day if i could walk.

Now - Thursday morning as i am writing this - the sun is shining on the ugly block of flats behind us, which are covered in scaffolding (maintenance). And it has become briefly a thing of beauty.

They are building the big bonfire on the Green, so I guess we are in for a bonfire night celebration  this weekend.   And now, Friday morning, there is a wild wild sea, and the balcony geraniums are blowing all over the place.  My shoulder still hurts - GRRR Grrrr - though I should be thankful I can still type.

Its Saturday morning and my shoulder is still very painful.  I may have to appear at the meeting minus the Zoom camera as I don't know if I will be able to get myself dressed and do not want to appear in my jimjams.  Col left early, with his sandwiches and a metal detector at every corner, leaving my breakfast all prepared - oats and and a proper coffee - which I took along with a big dose of pain meds.