Wolf Hall, the Mirror and the Light

We have now watched the final part of the Wolf Hall trilogy - Hilary Mantel's brilliant evocation of the court of King Henry the Eighth.  So it seems yet another occasion to puff my own book Disraeli Hall.  I had written and named it before Wolf Hall came out by the way - but it took me years to find a publisher.

I would not have copied her book title, as I am not sure my own writing can stand up to being compared with Hilary Mantel's. Well, I know it can't.

Anyway, The Mirror and the Light ends - and I hope I do not have to say "spoiler alert" here - with the death of Cromwell.  They did not, thank God, make the death as terrible as they could have.  And they leave him with a vision of the paradise earth - the earth in which I hope he will wake up when the time comes.

It will be such a wonderful surprise for him.  

I just want to say what a brilliant adaptation it was.  Each hour long episode flew by. The cast was excellent, with Mark Rylance every bit as good as the critics say. And what a great choice Damian Lewis was for Henry himself - he showed the charisma and the danger. What a tragedy human history has been since the loss of Eden.

Watching it, I was wondering if one day we - the Captain and me - will get to meet the protagonists. Will they all be resurrected during the Thousand Years and live on this lovely planet again?  

I know some of them were very scary, and some (apparently) so nasty and devious that the thought of them coming back is troubling.  But we are assured there will be a resurrection of both "the righteous and the unrighteous", so who knows?  And there will be nothing to be afraid of anyway when God's Kingdom is ruling over the earth.

The thing to do is to concentrate on being there - on doing Jehovah's will.  It makes things so much better right now - even in this difficult difficult system of things.

Captain B had a great find while out a'detectoring on Thursday.  He was walking back to the car at the end of the day with Jim and, being the Captain, detecting as he went, and he found a bronze Roman brooch!  Hopefully it will inspire him to another blog and then you will be able to see it (via the link to The Captain's Log), if you want.

Miracles

Here is Durrell, in an unpublished scrap of memoir, on the four years he spent as a child in prewar Corfu. “Leaf to bud, caterpillar to butterfly, tadpole to toad or frog, I was surrounded by miracles. I was surrounded by magic as though Merlin had passed through and casually touched the island with his wand.”

https://www.theguardian.com/books/2024/dec/11/myself-and-other-animals-by-gerald-durrell-review-hidden-gems

That reminds me of an early childhood memory, that I may have blogged before.  I must have been four years old. We, us children of the post WW2 baby boom years, were playing hide and seek in a hay meadow, right next to our council flats. We played out all the time then, and must have driven the poor farmer, trying to make a living, mad.

I can remember lying there in a forest of tall grass, watching the insect life going on around me, wonderful colourful little creatures, all so busy with their lives.  I felt as if I was in the Fairyland of my story books. So the wonder of the creation got right to my heart.  I saw it for the miracle it was.

But then, as time wore on, I was in "the world", and was taught at school that we found God in Church - in interminable and boring Latin masses - and that in any case Genesis was just a "creation myth". 

In contrast, my parents always loved the beauty of the creation, and gave up on mass and church.

It wasn't until I was in my late thirties that I began to seek for the Creator of it all.  And Jehovah let me find him. As he will to all who seek for him.  But it is urgent to do it now.

The photos above are from Col's gallery - a Spotted Fritillary caterpillar and its butterfly.  What else is that transformation but a miracle in plain sight?

The weather continues overcast, on the whole, and damp - and too warm for the time of year.  

And today - talking of miracles - I am visiting a long time call of Jean's who has said that she would actually like to start a Home Bible Study.  I am hoping that she does mean it, as we had been calling on her for many years, and I had kept in touch since Jean fell asleep in death.

Jean would be so thrilled to know this.  

A Facebook Post - Not Mine

Though I try to avoid Christmas as much as possible, I do respond to the cards we get, with a card, or a letter, or an email, or a postcard.  We have had some moth cards made from the Captain's photos, and one of them is of the splendid Jersey Tiger Moth above. It is a good way to keep in touch with family and old friends.  I have just had a card from Elizabeth who I have known since we were both 5 years old.

This is a recent facebook post from my sister.  It made me laugh, and I think it's an excellent illustration:

Sometimes, dealing with older teens and young adults (and I speak as a teacher, parent and grandmother) is a bit like watching someone getting bored with, for example, driving on the ordinary road:

Young Adult: I know! I'll go this way!
Old adult: Erm... That's not a road. And there's a cliff. THERE'S A CLIFF!
YA: It'll be fine!
OA: Brakes! Brakes! BRAKES!!!!
YA: It'll be fine. I'll put some wings on the side.
OA: But you don't know how to... Left! Go left! LEFT!
YA: It'll be fine! I'll learn how to do welding and get my pilot's licence...
Almighty splash, sounds of car coming to bits, some groaning followed by a thoughtful silence.
YA: Er... I need some money for repairs.
OA: But I told you...
YA: Oh stop going on about it. You never let me make my own decisions. I'm an adult now. *flounces off*

Not feeling wonderful - my crumbling back is giving me all sorts of problems (believe me, you do not want to know) - but then I am far from my adolescence.  And no matter how wonderful it would be to be young again and free of pain and worry about my health, I would not go back unless I could go back knowing then what I know now.

And isn't that what the Bible promises, life and perfect health, retaining all we have learnt now, and of course always learning.  And being taught by Jehovah is nothing like being back at school by the way. 

At least I did manage to make the fruit cake. It is cooling in its tin as I am doing this blog. I think I have overcooked it a bit, but I usually think that, and it is usually OK.  It is a cake that pays for keeping, as it has sherry in it. And Captain B enjoyed  the tester slice I gave him, which is the important thing.

I took this from our Examining the Scriptures daily last week, as a reminder to me to thank Jehovah for the way he is teaching millions of us, from every tribe and nation and tongue, to live in peace as the brothers and sisters we truly are - which in a world full of increasing hatred and division is a miracle, in plain sight:

Also, let the peace of the Christ rule in your hearts, for you were called to that peace in one body. And show yourselves thankful. - Colossians 3:15

The Green and the Grey

Winter is damp and rainy so far down here in the South, and nowhere near as cold as it should be.  I found a moody seaside shot from Col's photo gallery to head the blog. They had snow in the North. Wednesday, as I am starting this blog, it is overcast outside, and the English Channel is calm and grey.  Early morning, 8:34 as I am typing this, the greens and greys look both soft and intense - I wish I cold find the right words to describe it in a poem.

layers of green and grey/through the grey squares of the balcony railings/fronted by the red of the geraniums, subdued by the grey morning/the layers of sea and sky separated by a tiny fuzzy line of blue/no sign of sun/except that morning HAS come.

It ought to be possible to make a poem out of that, and also angle it so that it is also about the last month of the year, and, gulp, the last month of life.  However...

On a more prosaic note, Col is working on my Blue Badge application. I have just pulled my medical file so he can send in a load of documents listing my conditions.  And that, believe me, is a lot of paperwork.

I only hope all the time and money being spent on me is worth it.  I have produced some very readable books (well, so my readers tell me) - but, lets face it, the world has plenty of books already, with loads more in production. And while I am doing the most important work there is, the Kingdom preaching work, that work goes on whether I do it or not.  As Jesus himself, said, if necessary, the stones would cry it out.

It is a privilege, and also one that trains us for the great preaching work to be done during the Thousand Years, as surely most people who have lived and died knew very little, if anything, about their loving Creator and his purposes.

Today, Thursday, it is overcast again, and not nearly as cold as it should be for the time of year.  Col left very early for The Field, and I am busy making a large fruit cake. I use a boil and bake recipe from a Cranks cookbook Col bought me eons ago.

I make the hot mixture - the dried fruit, the butter, the sugar, the orange juice etc in the morning - and once it has cooled down enough, I will add the eggs and  the dry ingredients, which I am off to do right now.

I used to make two, one for the AGM of Butterfly Conservation when I was the Membership Secretary for the local branch.  Like all my cakes it is sturdy, not elegant, but was always popular, went to the last crumb.

But now it takes me all my time to make one which I must now go and do, as I said.

The Mystery of the Manifestation in the Lift

Sunday morning was very blowy, and cold, with rain threatened, and Col kindly chauffered me to the Kingdom Hall. I am so shaky on my feet now that I had my stick with me.  He walked down the stairs,  I got the lift.  

I was alone in the lift, yet, strangely, reflected in the polished door was the hand of an old lady, resting on a walking stick.

Where did she come from?   There was no-one else in the lift.  Maybe one of my readers can solve the puzzle... or maybe I would rather you didn't.

Quite sunny here today, so far, and we are in the process of signing what we hope will be the final document in the sale of our rental flat.  Our neighbour across the hall kindly witnessed it. I hope we are doing the right thing, but our tenants have wanted to buy it for quite some time, and it will simplify our lives. 

It seems that yet another country is descending into chaos, as the Syrian government falls.  I can only hope that it turns out well for the people, especially of course my Syrian brothers and sisters.  But what so often follows revolution/rebellion?  Something even worse maybe?  And didn't the tragedy we are all of us living in now begin with a rebellion, the rebellion in Eden, when our first parents were persuaded to rebel against their loving Creator and set their own standards of good and bad?

I will see if I can find a picture of a beautiful garden to head this blog, to remind us of the garden our first parents lost, but which we still long for.  And hopefully to remind us that it lies ahead, when the whole earth is under the loving rule of the heavenly government, the Kingdom of God.

The photo above is one Col took when we visited Arundel Castle at tulip time, with Nute - some years ago now, pre-Lockdown.

How lovely is that?  So how lovely is the earth going to become during the Thousand Years during which the whole earth becomes a paradise garden - a garden of peace, no more wars, and nature no longer "red in tooth and claw". And then, what?

Can we all please search for our Creator, Jehovah, now, and be there to find out and to enjoy our lives forever?

And to end on what may seem a trivial note, we will all be able to take the lift - should we need them then - without any fear of the hands of old ladies materialising in the reflective doors.  We will be perfect and living then, not damaged and dying as we are now.  

Storm Darragh

Storm Darragh began yesterday evening and was raging during the night.  This morning our seaward view showed both clouds and sunshine and a wavy Channel while the landward view was of our garden trees swaying against a dark sky.

I must find a stormy photo of our beach to head this blog.

The Captain has wisely cancelled both his Saturday and Sunday expeditions to The Field.  Or it may be that The Field was closed.  Unfortunately the Sandwich Fairy was not advised in time and there are now two boxes of cake and sandwiches in the fridge.

I am reading The Running Grave, which is the latest Strike book (by Robert Galbraith, aka J. K.Rowling).  Well, I think its the latest.  It is certainly one I have not read yet.  It is getting off to a cracking start, with a vulnerable student getting caught up in a powerful and sinister cult.  

The title comes from this quote from Dylan Thomas: "When, like a running grave, time tracks you down."

Yes. Alas, we are dying from the moment we are born, damaged children of Adam that we are all are, and at my age - in my seventies - time is hurtling along.  Or in Thomas' powerful image, the grave is running at me.  I had my Rheumatology appointment yesterday, driven through a sunny December morning by the gallant Captain Butterfly.

"How old are you, if I may ask" said the young doctor.  My attempt at "39" nearly made the young medical student in attendance fall off his chair laughing. Back to Beside Manners School for him!

However, talking of bedside manners, I was asked whether I was happy with the student being there. And as long as I am asked, I always say yes.  They have to learn after all.

It was fortunate that I had a week's worth of blood pressure results with me, to take to my GP on the way back, as the BP the nurse took was alarmingly high.  Being in hospitals is so stressful. Anyway, she was reassured when she saw the results, which were OK - except for one morning after a night of severe arthritis pain.

And it turns out I am becoming more confused. The blood tests I had done were, for Dermatology (I did not even know they needed them). But the paperwork system seems to have changed re my arthritis appointments and I think I will need to put in a reminder to myself in my May 2025 calendar to chase up my next appointment, along with a blood test form.

Though whether I will still be here in May 2025, who knows?  If the frightening possible side-effects of my crumbling back have come into play by then...  

I need to think about the Kingdom of God, and the amazing prospect of perfect health that lies ahead.  So I hope to do my Watchtower study today, my Bible reading, and catch up with Bruce in SA.  Plus email Bea to ask about how her health is going. Hopefully the answer will not be "downhill".

The Scarlet Waxcap

 

We chose a photo of splendid Scarlet Waxcaps for our last Calendar pic of 2024.  The theme of our 2025 calendar is Moths.

The idea of going out mushrooming in the Autumn is lovely - well, assuming I was still capable of walking through woodland...  I think its called "tree bathing" now, but even when it was plain old "walking through the woods" I liked it.  But it has always seemed too risky to pick wild fungi, as even experts can make mistakes, and those mistakes can so easily be fatal.

At least, with the waxcap, I assume that the colour is saying DO NOT EAT ME!!!!  

As I have probably said before, one of the many things I look forward to during the Thousand Years is collecting fungi for supper in the woods of Autumn.  Autumn can be so lovely even now, so how lovely will it be then. And, under the loving care of the Kingdom of God, there will be no chance of mistakes.

And what will it be like after the Thousand Years,when paradise has been restored earthwide, and everyone is at the same starting point of perfection that our first parents had, but lost? What will it be like knowing we can live forever on this lovely planet, with unnumbered seasons ahead of us... and new things too - things we cannot even conceive of now?

May we all be there to find out.

In the meantime, how quickly 2024 has gone. It has hurtled by, and I guess 2025 will as well, assuming that the Captain and I will still be around to experience it.  Everything in me seems to be wearing out at the moment. The Captain is doing much better, thank God.

We Zoomed with our respective siblings on Monday as usual - all seems well. George was off to have his second cataract operation which, hopefully, will go as well as the first did.  Pen had to disappear briefly to feed the hens before they left. Nice that they still have hens at the farm.  I hope we might be able to get up and see it sometime next year. Every time we go the garden is so different. They have such scope there.