The Holly Blue

There was a young Holly of Blue
it pupated, it hatched, and it flew

It landed nearby

Col's camera let fly

And now I can show it to you!

It seems I have become a Limerick addict - and so late in life too.

The Holly Blue is an exquisite butterfly, as is the Wood White - and... well, all of them I suppose.  The whole process from tiny egg, like a little pearl, to caterpillar - that little eating train - to pupa, to the flying flower that is the butterfly is a miracle in plain sight.  How could a process like that just evolve?!

Well that, I guess, is one of the many things us Jehovah's Witnesses are trying and trying to get across to everyone. The creation is telling us of its Grand Creator as clearly as if it spoke.

I must admit that the Limerick form is so much easier than the Haiku, which I have been trying out in various blogs with a great lack of success.  If I can get them short enough - IF, as I am not the best at counting - then they do not make their point; if I make the point, then they are too long...

How did the great Matsuo Basho do it?

Col was off on his first butterfly transect for a long time yesterday, trying to find Wood Whites in one of the local woods.  So I had to quickly whip up a box of sandwiches and cake for his lunch.  He did not find any to record, but that of course is a finding in itself - there were no Wood Whites in that specific area of Sussex on the 29th April 2026.

He left very early this morning, with his box of sandwiches, to goodness knows where to join the detectorists in The Field.  And I am down with a terrible cold - my first for ages, but it seems to be doing the rounds. Sore throat, coughing, the works. I  think I may just go back to bed and try to sleep.

I had quite a surprise this week. I have a fb friend in Oz. We have known each other for many years, but never met, who suddenly phoned me, and we were talking for the first time.  He is having his problems, in these "difficult times, hard to deal with".  I hope talking about it helped.

A Longhorn of Green

There once was a Longhorn of Green
And at Kithurst Hill it was seen
But Colin was there
with his camera set fair
So now it appears on your screen.

Sorry about this.  I can't seem to stop Limericking.  The Green Longhorn - a rather elegant moth - was one of the little creatures Col photographed at Kithurst Hill.

Col spent Friday and Saturday with the Detectorists at Petworth Park - nothing exciting found by him, but there were some interesting things found.  Saturday evening he collected and delivered some medicine to a sibling who has gone down with a very bad cold.  I am not able to help now.  A few years ago I could have walked to both the Pharmacy and her house - I used to do the same for Jacks.  And then, later, I could still have driven. But my driving days are over. I have decided to stop before I have the crash that tells me I should have stopped.  The eye problem has confirmed the decision.  I am seeing this screen through a sort of gauzy haze of dots.

We are now sitting out on the balcony of an evening, just before sunset, with a coffee for me and a glass of wine for Himself.  It's still not warm, but the evenings are light and long.

Old age is scary - for us both.  Though the Captain is braver than me. But we are so grateful to be together.  "Well, unless I could be with Rachel off Countdown" I seem to see in the Thought Bubble floating above the Captain's head, as we contemplate the sun beginning to set.  "You can't and that is all there is to it!" I bubble back.

The sun will still set and the moon will still rise when we are no longer here to see it, as it did for the millenia (billenia!) before we had the privilege of opening our eyes and seeing this beautiful planet.  But I do hope that we will be able to inherit the earth and live forever upon it, even if we have to come the long way round - via the resurrection.

As Ecclesiastes tells us, Jehovah has put eternity into our minds. We don't want to leave the people we love - or this beautiful and fascinating paradise home, with all its precious little creatures And with them in mind,  I hope the Green Longhorn moth above is having a life full of joy, and lots and lots of little egglets.

Three Limericks

Three Limericks

by me

There was a young lady from Hull
Who went for a ride on a gull

She swooped through the air

with brio and flair

that daring young lady from Hull

There was an old lady from Wick

who dined every day on a brick

followed by a roast stone

which she chewed like a bone

that sturdy old lady from Wick

There was a young man from Dhahran

Who drove through the dunes in a van

He was not very fast

so the camels rushed past

which upset that young man (and his van).

This outburst of limericks is because Col bought me a book on our half day out at the Birders Conference in Brighton.  It is a biography of Edward Lear by Jenny Uglow.  So I am enjoying meeting up with all his limericks again. And they have inspired me to have a go.

I feel there is going to be a lot of sadness in his life - but then somehow everyone's life seems sad in retrospect.  Even if it was perfect, and no lives are, at best it is so short.  The Threescore Years and Ten just vanish in our hands.

The photo is of a black headed gull from the Captain's photo gallery.  And my youngest grand-niece is the young lady from Hull.  Not that she has ridden on a gull, but knowing her, she would if she could.

We saw our Bible student Wednesday morning - the lady of the flowers.  We had a chat and a cup of coffee and then had a good study session.  Next week we hope to show her what the Bible says about why there is such suffering, so much injustice, on this beautiful earth, and show her what our Creator is going to do about it - what he is already doing about it.

Col started on his detecting work at Petworth Park on Thursday  - a rare opportunity for the detectorists.  And he spent Wednesday at Kithurst Hill, photographing butterfies, which inspired him to do a blog - and me to write a couple more limericks, which will turn up in my blog in time.

I must say they are easier than Haikus.

I am just about to brace myself to go off and look at the News headlines and see how bad the situation in the Middle East currently is.  Yet more talk of a ceasefire apparently - though I don't think it feels like fire is ceasing for all those in the vicinity.  Quite the reverse, it seems.

The fact that my cataract operation has left me with worse sight in one eye than before... there ought to be a limerick in that... but I am trying not to brood about about it, and not to forget that I am very fortunate to still be here, and still able to enjoy the gift of life.

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.

Flowers for Anula

This is the card that Krysia sent.  It is a print from her painting Flowers for Anula Rohatiner, my Godmother 2005.

Her website is: https://www.artsy.net/artist/krysia-d-michna-nowak-1

We bought one of her paintings a long time ago, at an exhibition she had at the Philip Francis Galley in Sheffield.  It has travelled with us down the years and is now in our hall.

I put a photo of it in this blogpost:

https://sueknight2000.blogspot.com/2014/07/krysia-michna-nowak-schooldays.html

That blog was written over ten years ago...   I hope it will remind me to be grateful for having had so many happy years in retirement - and to continue to hope to have a few more.  And of course, above all to be so thankful that, through the undeserved kindness of the ransom sacrifice, I can hope to live forever in the restored earthly paradise.  I hope we all will.

Krysia also sent some photos from way back when - from when the Town Hall extension was being built.  She and my father both worked for the Town Hall at that time.  He always spoke very highly of her.

Krysia is an artist and has worked in the world of art for many years. I often wish I had had more of a vision - well any sort of vision - of what I wanted to be when I left school.  I know I did NOT want to teach, which was one of the very few careers open to us girls back then.  I would have been no use at all as a teacher.

And I most certainly did NOT want to be a nun.  NOT squared on that one.

I always wanted to write. And always wrote - even getting a few poems published - I mean properly published, not vanity published.  But it did take me many years to get my books published.  And I am very grateful to be a published author now.  I had no idea, back then, that some kind of career within journalism or publishing might have been possible.  I had no clue really.

So I have had many jobs in my lifetime, none of them very inspiring.  The last paid one was being the Boarding/Buyer  at the Dhahran Kennel Club.  And I did ten years unpaid as Membership Secretary for the Sussex Branch of Butterfly Conservation in my retirement.

But I am surprised, and so grateful, to find myself, at my age, still doing the most important work I have ever done, that is trying to tell people about the Kingdom of God.  Unpaid of course.  Jesus said, "You received free, give free." 

I managed to cover all the territory I had been allotted for the Memorial invites. And I can only hope that some will accept the invitation.

The Special Talk was on Sunday - Who Will Restore the Earth? - a very timely title, as, if we are left to ourselves, aren't we going to ruin it?

The Bible assures us that we are not abandoned to this, and that the peace of paradise will be restored earthwide.

The Memorial Bible readings have started - and what the first two days have got me thinking about is both how Jesus was acclaimed by the people, threatened by the religious leaders, and how he fulfilled Bible prophecy.

The ransom sacrifice of Jesus Christ is something we should never take for granted.

The Memorial of Jesus' death will be held worldwide on Thursday the 2nd April, after sunset.  You would be so welcome to attend at your local Kingdom Hall. You may even have got an invitation by now. We try to get as many invites delivered as we can.  I have to turn up in your letter box these days though, as I can no longer make it to the front doors.

A Hard Boiled Egg

 

This is a Blossom Underwing - a new visitor to our Moth Hotel.  It spent Sunday night with us.  Moth season has definitely begun.

Sunday I did very little. Studied in the morning and made a big veggie/bean stew for lunch. Plus a little bit of witnessing.  Monday morning was my usual two Zooms - field service with some sisters, then my siblings. The latter one ended a bit early due to my GP calling me re my blood pressure.  Then an outing (something I dread now) in the afternoon to: the garden centre, the post office, Cooks, Specsavers, the Pie Shop, and the ATM.

Very painful, and left me feeling shattered, although it was hardly any walking at all.  Blood pressure shot up after a painful night.

Katie came round on Tuesday and I was sheared. Always a shock as I like to have a lot of hair to hide behind. Plus I tend to look like a giant hard boiled egg with short hair. But anyway, I will look neat for the Memorial on Thursday week which is my aim.  A neat hard-boiled egg, for what its worth.

Wednesday was spending the morning with our Bible student, who says she would like to come to The Memorial on the 2nd April!  That seems like such a breakthrough, after so many years of knowing her.  And the afternoon was a double Zoom session - field service, getting out invitations for the Memorial.

As I am not good at managing my hair, it has now lost the lovely shape Katie left it with, and I am looking double boiled-eggy. Still a lot neater though, so I will have to be satisfied with that.

Circuit Assembly March 2026

A recent rainbow, taken from the balcony by Col.  The bow in the cloud, to use the Biblical term.

It was our Circuit Assembly on Saturday.  The theme was "Worship with Spirit and Truth".  I travelled by pixel to one of the American assemblies - via video link actually - and I had the programme printed from the JW.org site.

One of the last talks was "Worship with Truth in Times of Economic Hardship", which could hardly have been more timely given the awful situation in the Middle East.  There seems no way it will not get worse.

I hope to include a couple of points I gleaned from the Assembly in my next blog.

Mornings are so difficult now that it was touch and go whether I made it, showered and dressed, to my computer for 9:40 when it began!  I did.  Just.  And I also managed to field a frantic phone call from a sister who wanted to check she had pixelled to the right convention.  She had.

Unless... crumbs... we were both at the wrong one?

Col decided not to go a'detectoring on Saturday... which is unusual, but he is not as young as he was either. Which is a thought I find very painful. I can accept that I am ageing, but not my London boy.

We heard from two old friends. Rob and Judy, from our Uni days. They are doing a tour of friends in the South this year and are coming to stay this summer.  And I found a beautiful card from an old friend from my schooldays, Krysia, in my letter box.  If Col will take a photo of it, I will use it to head one of my next blogs, along with her website address.

She has become a successful artist, and the card is printed from one of her paintings.  She enclosed some photos she had found of the town hall extension my father, an architect, designed so long ago.  It was designed, built, used, and demolished, in his lifetime.  I wish they had waited a year or two longer before demolishing it, as he must have been upset, even though he was in his dementia years.

It was another example of the failure of human government really, in that it was planned and designed during a time when local government was expanding.  But by the time it was built, Mrs.T. had trimmed local government spending so much that it was no longer needed.

And sadly the lovely Registry Office he designed, known locally as "The Wedding Cake", was lost in the same demolishment (if that is a word).  

However, come Armageddon, what is going to be left standing of this old system?  No more tragic mess.  It will be a new, fresh, and perfectly managed start for the human family. And once again I hope we are all there to find out.

The Coming Separation

 

The flowers of Spring!  This is a local magnolia, one of many.  We once, many years ago, had a house in London with a magnolia tree.  I would love to have one again.  Maybe in the restored earthly paradise. Because we are now in the winter of our lives - past gardening.

I was talking to my siblings about the corruption - the deep corruption - being revealed in the wake of the Epstein scandals.  And I shared this little verse I found as a comment under a small video about the exPrince Andrew/Jeffrey Epstein connection.   

The Grand Old Duke of York, He paid 12 million quid, To someone he said he'd never met, For something he never did.

https://www.youtube.com/shorts/Yf9nfbKldsE

Sadly, ain't that the truth? And truth is hard to come by in the world system we live in - a system founded on the first lie ever told, in Eden. The depth of corruption is probably beyond our comprehension. How can we put this right? How can any human government put this right?

I am looking forward to the special Bible talk on Sunday the 29th of March: "Who Will Restore the Earth?", as it is sure to tell us about the government that CAN set this right, the heavenly one.

It will be on at your local Kingdom Hall of Jehovah's Witnesses, and you will be so welcome to attend.  Surely it is worth hearing what the Bible promises, and deciding for yourself if it is true.

We had our Bible study on Wednesday morning.  But I am finding it all very difficult now. Am I on the verge of being completely housebound, except for those necessary medical appointments?  

I don't know, but as I have always been a homebody, plus I have the sea right outside my window, plus, double plus, the Zoom provision for the meetings, it will be do-able.  More than, actually, given I am on the spectrum (of Aspergers/Autism), so that face to face interactions with people are always a strain.

Tuesday night we sat out on the balcony for the first time this year. We had a glass of wine, watched the sparkly sea, and Captain B even talked about the coming separation (given our age) as we held hands.  Just a little.  He usually ignores such things, and gets on with life as he is a fount of common sense.

But this does need thinking about, very seriously. As it should be one of the things that tells us we are not in the Darwinian world of evolution, as "the world" would have us believe. If we were, why would the shortness of our lives upset us?  All would be natural.  But it isn't. We know this is such a short time to spend with the people we love, and to be on this splendid planet as it floats through the awe-inspiring universe.

Captain B rang this morning to say that having travelled halfway round the world to The Current Field (judging by the appalling time his alarm clock went off) the Field itself is not in a fit stage to be detected. They are all sitting there, all fifty or so of them, while the frazzled organiser tries desperately to find another more suitable Field, not too far away.  I can only hope he succeeds, poor guy.

He rang again to say that another Field has been found, for later, and after they have attempted a detect on the Faulty Field, they will move across to it.

I had a busy morning - for me, these days.  Made the usual apple crumble, made a mushroom curry and rice and beans, and did a load of washing. But I had to do an alarming amount of sitting resting while getting it done.

A Small Quaker

 

Here is the Small Quaker that recently spent the night in our moth hotel, snug in its eggbox room.  How beautifully Jehovah has clothed it - that sepia Autumnal colouring - even including the lovely neck fur.  

One of the many many things we can look forward to in the restored earthly paradise is learning how to look after all these little creatures properly. And they will be able to do all they were designed to do, happily and peacefully.

Col was at home on Saturday - not out a'detecting.  NOT DETECTING.  Hold the presses.  I attended the field service in pixel form, got some Memorial invitations ready to post, and did the Watchtower study for Sunday.  It was both comforting and encouraging, and you can find it on the site JW.org, under Library, under Meetings.

He was out with the Detectorist lads on Sunday - alarm clock went at 4:15 - but even if he had been here to help me get dressed and chauffeur me, I would still have had to pixel it to the Hall as I was in so much pain.  Another bad night.

I must remember that I am very fortunate still to be here and every day is a bonus now, and also that I have the hope of enjoying life forever in the restored earthly paradise.  I must extract some points from the Circuit Overseer's talks on Sunday so that I remember them. The second talk strongly emphasised how much we need to build a strong faith, a close relationship with Jehovah, now.  And he also reminded us of the strong faith of our African brothers and sisters, some of whom are going through very difficult times indeed.

This morning I had the usual two Zoom sessions - with my congregation sisters, and then with my bro and sis - just one sis this time, as Nute is having to work.  Got some work done - a few Memorial invitations sent out, with handwritten cards - which is why I only managed a few.

Col just came across an interesting clip on Youtube which claims that research is showing that handwriting is an important exercise for our brains - may help to stave off dementia.

And we do need all the help we can get these days. So I plan to buy more cards and sent out some more handwritten invites etc.  I have always tried to send a few, as I hope that people might appreciate something handwritten.  The arthritis limits what I can do, handwriting wise, but I think I can do better than I was.

My siblings all seem well, thank Goodness. While I am the oldest, we are none of us young now.

Chiang Mai Sunset

CHIANG MAI SUNSET

by me

A peach coloured fire glowed all along the horizon
Burning the palm trees black
As we drove with the Bata people
Down the dirt road
The colours burnt brighter, smoke began to rise
As people, coming out into the hot night,
Lit their evening fires.
Peach sun, black palms, curled smoke, kissed
When you were in Jesmond, Wirach,
Were you homesick for this?

I wrote this many many years ago when we were staying with Wirach, an old Uni friend, and he sent us up to beautiful Chiang Mai for a week. His firm had just bought the old British Embassy, and we stayed there.  We had it and its staff to ourselves.  They made us cooked English breakfasts, as I remember it, and were very nice.  Chiang Mai was a quiet place then. Apparently it is a top tourist destination now - which is not surprising.

When I put "Thailand" into the Captain's photo gallery I could only find the above photo of a moth - which was taken in the Maldives, but the moth - a Leafroller - is apparently also found in Thailand.  

This poem was published in an anthology if I remember rightly - my first ever publication.

I have been trying to decipher my notes from Wednesday night, the Pioneer meeting.  The points we were considering were to think about adjustments we might find we need to make in the following three areas, so that we can not only try to reach more people with the immensely good news of the Kingdom of God, but also be a better support to our congregation family:

1.  As an example.

2.  As a support.

3.  Building our spirituality.

All these points need working on and will keep me busy and usefully occupied if I keep at it.

And it is another gift from Jehovah, to know that I can be useful even at my age.

Written in March

 

Written in March (1798)

The cock is crowing,
The stream is flowing,
The small birds twitter,
The lake doth glitter,
The green field sleeps in the sun;
The oldest and youngest
Are at work with the strongest;
The cattle are grazing,
Their heads never raising;
There are forty feeding like one!

Like an army defeated
The snow hath retreated,
And now doth fare ill
On the top of the bare hill;
The Ploughboy is whooping–anon–anon:
There’s joy in the mountains;
There’s life in the fountains;
Small clouds are sailing,
Blue sky prevailing;
The rain is over and gone! 

by William Wordsworth

https://www.poetrybyheart.org.uk/poems/written-in-march

This is a poem I remember from my childhood. Still love it.  Although I am not quite sure the rain IS over and gone this March.  And I am not bothered either, as I love weather.

The photo that heads the blog is of Spring Buds, from Col's photo gallery. It does show a blue sky prevailing, though the weather here continues pretty grey - full of a sea mist on Monday, and calm and grey on Tuesday.  It was springlike and sunny on Wednesday though, and we drove through daffodils to see our student.

Us Fantastic Book authors had our weekly Zoom session on Monday night.  Will it inspire me to finally finish The Canals of Mars?  I will likely publish it in my blog if I do.  I have got so far with it, it seems a shame not to do so.

Wednesday morning we were with our Bible student - and I think we may have had a breakthrough, after many years of calling.  But we will see. 

The afternoon was a harrowing session at the dentist - root canal business - nearly and hour and a half - too much really - I felt completely exhausted after it.  Hopefully it has gone well and is all done now.  I couldn't get through to Col on his phone after though.  A few years ago I would either have driven myself there, or been able to walk back anyway. Not now, alas.  However I had an idea, and sent a cry for help over the family watsapp. And one of my nephews responded, contacted Col, and so the cavalry came over the hill just in time, in the shape of my little red car with Col in the driver's seat.

And the dentist was followed by the perfect antidote, in that I was able, courtesy of a lift from my siblings, to attend the Pioneers Meeting with the Circuit Overseer in the evening.

We were divided into three groups and each given a task to think about - all concerned with what being a pioneer means.  Not just a question of trying to do some more hours in the preaching work, but how we can be of extra support to the whole congregation.  It has given me a lot to think about, especially as the state I am in now means that I feel less useful all the time.

But somehow, Jehovah makes every one of us feel appreciated.  And that is so lovely.

Anyway, with three outings yesterday, I was up in the early hours, taking painkillers. But hopefully I can have a quiet restful day - no meeting tonight, as we had it on Tuesday. And I have a double Zoom session with a sister this afternoon, so that will provide my witnessing for the day.  I got a supply of Memorial invites from the Kingdom Hall and hope to write a short letter to post them with.  Or, more grammatically, with which to post them.

Oh, and talking of being useful, the Sandwich Fairy, who also had three outings yesterday, did manage to ensure that Col's sandwich lunch was ready for him in the fridge when he left very early this morning for The Field.