The Heatwave

The heatwave continues with more thunderstorms on Saturday night.  But, thankfully, our block has not been hit - yet.  There have been some bad strikes locally though.

We heard from Bob - a friend from our expat years.  We used to see so much of each other in those days.  They are all now in Northern Thailand - a very lovely part of the world, remembering our long ago trip to Chiang Mai.  It was so quiet back then, but now it's apparently like another Bangkok.

So I thought I would look for a photo from one of our Thai trips to head this blog, but then I remembered that the Captain has not yet put any of them in his Gallery.  Our trips to Thailand were so long ago that he would have to digitise them. (Don't ask.)  Or was it so long ago that we had to hire a local painter to portray us there?  Once again, don't ask.  He spent Sunday - a hot Sunday - manning a stall with two other detectorists at a Farmers Fair.  

And he bought his cake and sandwiches home, as the attraction of burgers proved too much. Very good they were too apparently.

Had two anxiety dreams on Sunday night, and woke up relieved to find that I had not left my bag with purse and credit cards outside a London gallery and had it stolen, nor had I forgotten an important commission given to me by an expat friend. That last dilemma took me back many years to Planet Expat when we visited the UK and fellow Brits would give us letters to post, commissions for stuff, etc.  In my dream I had failed to unpack one of my suitcases and forgotten about an important commission involving a large file full of CVs.

As I said, it was a relief to wake up.

We have been sitting out on our balcony of an evening, often talking over the past as befits two old people I guess.  So I used a rather good photo Col took of a recent sunset to head the blog.

We had our usual Zoom sessions on Monday.  And I made an apple crumble in the afternoon, plus did three cards to family and friends who are in hospital - Seppi, Richard and Patricia.  And this morning we saw our Bible student.  

Oh, and Jane gave me some lemon drizzle cake for Col. She is a very good baker, and that is Col's favourite, but not one I usually make as it is not sturdy enough for his packed lunches, which used to have to survive The Dive Boat, but now have to survive The Field.  I plan to surprise him with it when we have our afternoon chocolate.

It ought to be freshly made iced lemon juice in this weather really, but we are such creatures of habit now, and at 3:00 we have hot chocolate.

Freedom at the Boundary

 

I had no time to Hate (763)

I had no time to Hate -
Because
The Grave would hinder me -
And Life was not so
Ample I
Could finish--Enmity -

Nor had I time to Love -
But since
Some Industry must be -
The little Toil of Love -
I thought
Was large enough for Me .

Emily Dickinson

https://allpoetry.com/Emily-Dickinson

I discovered the poems of Emily Dickinson in my first year at Uni - many years ago - and have come to appreciate her more and more over the years.

This is beautiful.  Our lives are so short now, even at best.  I wish I could explain how quickly our threescore years and ten goes by. So why not do something loving with the little time we have?

The divisive spirit of the world, along with our own imperfections, will push us in the opposite direction if we are not careful.  

The photo that heads this blog is of Shadow and his good friend Sophie happy in the Saudi desert. They were very loving animals - a credit to the loving Creator who made them. Alas, alas, that cannot always be said of me, but I am trying to get there...  

"Well, you ARE very trying..."   Was that the Captain's voice rising above the hum of metal detectors, in a distant field?

Not quite so hot on Friday, after a hot and still night. So I felt a bit better - got a tiny bit of energy back. I managed to review the book of poems Captain B just bought me - Freedom at the Boundary, by Mike-Philip Williams.

https://www.amazon.co.uk/Freedom-at-Boundary-Mike-Philip-Williams-ebook/dp/B0DWHWHG2S

The review is on there.

Mike-Philip writes very well about the landscape of my childhood.  And I find myself thinking quite a lot about my childhood now - the feel of childhood.  Not of school though. I try not to think about that.

The Captain is not into poetry in the least, beyond possibly "There was a young lady of..."  but he knows I love it.   

Today is really hot again, and it's so still, after a night of thunderstorms and some much needed rain. Armed Forces Day is happening on The Green outside my window and i am typing this to an accompaniment of: Left, Right, Left, Right, as some young trainees march along the sea front.  In this heat!  I hope there is a breeze soon, for all our sakes.

And of course I long for the day promised in Psalms when there will be no more war, but a true and lasting peace earthwide, under the rule of the heavenly government, the Kingdom of God.

Come and witness the activities of Jehovah,
How he has done astonishing things on the earth.
He is bringing an end to wars throughout the earth.
- Psalm 46:8.9

Astonishing things indeed, as what human government, no matter how well-intentioned, has come anywhere near to achieving that?

Sky

 

 

Emily Dickinson

The Brain — is wider than the Sky —
For — put them side by side —
The one the other will contain
With ease — and You — beside —

The Brain is deeper than the sea —
For — hold them — Blue to Blue —
The one the other will absorb —
As Sponges — Buckets — do —

The Brain is just the weight of God —
For — Heft them — Pound for Pound —
And they will differ — if they do —
As Syllable from Sound —

https://allpoetry.com/The-Brain--is-wider-than-the-Sky

Some recent sky shots from our evening balcony.  And what an outstandingly marvelous creation the human brain is.  I think I am right in saying - given I heard it somewhere (so who knows?) - that Charles Darwin acknowledged that the capacity of the human brain was a big problem in his Theory of Evolution - as is human language.

Whether that is true or not, would he actually believe in his theory these days, given how much more we now know about the complexity of the human brain, the complexity of even a single "simple" cell?

I feel sure he would have a big re-think.

The creation is telling us of its Grand Creator as clearly as if it spoke.

We are in the middle of a fierce heatwave here - but after all it is midsummer, the Solstice just having come and gone.  We had a lovely breeze from the sea Monday and Tuesday which made such a difference.  There has been torrential monsoon rain in parts of the country, but not here, yet.  And today is supposed to be the hottest June day ever. Last night was still and stifling, but today there is a small breeze which is making all the difference.  However it is still very very HOT.

We got to our student this morning and she had a good sized fan going for which we were so grateful.  Next week we start learning what the Bible says about the dead - where they are now, and will we see them again. And if so, where. We hope it is going to resonate with her, as she says she has no idea, and never really learnt much about it in religious lessons at school.

As a Catholic Convent schoolgirl, in the 1950s, I learnt about all sorts of terrible - and unBiblical - destinations for the dead.

I have a double Zoom field service this afternoon, which will be about all I do, as the heat is flaring up my arthritis horribly - see my recent blog "The Lamb" - and I am ashamed to say that I would have been more than happy if our student had cancelled this morning. But I am very glad she didn't as we had a good study.  

But my limbs are not only painful but working very badly. I have just managed to drop and smash the butter dish all over the kitchen while making the Captain's sandwiches for tomorrow.

You would think making sandwiches was easy enough - but these days - alas...

A Flower for Victoria Climbie, Maria Colwell, Preston Davey, Zarene Rose Frame, Star Hobson, Elsie Scully Hicks, Sara Sharif and so many others

On yon hill where the cold wind blows

Lies my darling Zarene Rose.

The Welfare said they'd take care of you.

It wasn't very often.

They took you away in a cradle

But brought you back in a coffin.

Geordie Frame, brother of the New Zealand author Janet Frame, wrote this sad little verse for his young daughter Zarene Rose.  The baby is said to have died in her sleep while in foster care, having been taken away from her parents by "the Welfare".

Were her parents competent to look after her?  Not very, going by Janet Frame's own account of her brother and his wife.  But... was The Welfare any more competent?

The verse is quoted in the biography of Janet Frame by Michael King.

And of course a flower for the poet Lemn Sissay and the writer Jenni Fagan, who both survived a childhood in Care, and somehow managed to write about it so powerfully in My Name is Why, and Ootlin.

The torture murder of Preston Davey at the hands of his adoptive parents, and in plain sight of the authorities, is the tragic inspiration for this blog.

Oldham Council - in whose care Preston was - say no staff have been disciplined or sacked following the infant's death but insist an independent child safeguarding practice review is being carried out and will report in due course.

No surprise there then.  Another review,  another "enquiry", and things will go on much the same - well, will likely get worse alas, as broken families, chaos and violence increase everywhere.

I hope those who did not survive being cared for in this way sleep safe in "the everlasting arms", held close in the memory of the most loving Father, Jehovah, and that they have such a joyful awakening ahead of them when the time comes  to wake the dead from their dreamless sleep.  They will wake up from a nightmare into the peace and joy of the restored earthly paradise.  We are promised that "distress will not rise up a second time", so all nightmares will be gone for good.

And it seems a horrendously perfect ending to this sad blog to have just heard that the man who threw a toddler into the crocodile enclosure in Cambridge has been released on bail.

HE HAS BEEN RELEASED ON BAIL.   The toddler is in hospital, seriously injured.   Whether the child will survive is not clear. But God bless the owners of the crocs who risked their lives going into the enclosure to save him.  At least that has given the child a chance.

The Police have told us we are "to refrain from speculation".  But its hard not to speculate about just how many toddlers this man will be allowed to attack until he is safely locked up somewhere.

Well, as our speaker at the Kingdom Hall reminded us today, "it does not belong to man who is walking even to direct his step".  (Jeremiah 10:23)   And surely surely there is no excuse for not seeing the truth of those words, after the ongoing tragedies that human rulership is causing on the earth. 

We need God's will to be done on the earth, not that of imperfect humans.  

The Speaker today brought back another memory from the past. He was African, from the Congo I believe.  One of our last holidays in our travelling days was to South Africa for a friend's wedding.  It was my first and only time in Africa - and we fell in love with the beautiful Cape.  At that time - 20 years or so ago - there were a lot of Congolese immigrants living there, selling things at the roadside.  We stopped and bought some wooden carvings and found that they all seemed to speak English well - as did our brother today.

He spoke from the heart too.

The Dreams of Old Age

 

Are these the dreams of old age? Or just dreams?  I recently dreamt about my childhood home, which appears as 5 Disraeli Crescent in my books. And on Tuesday night my dreams ended with me sorting out breakfast for my mum-in-law Eileen, who was staying in a kind of B&B that did remind me of somewhere but the dream faded too quickly for me to work it out.

I know I was heading back to the dining room/kitchens as she wanted more butter on the strange collection of things on her plate, although they already had loads of butter on them. And she wanted more banana bread.  I remember being surprised that she liked banana bread and woke up wondering why I hadn't made her some.  I have two very good recipes.

Its too late now by the way, as Eileen died many years ago. I only meet her in the occasional dream.

So I put "banana" into the search engine of Col's photo gallery, and it came up with a lot of rather dazzling photos of Banana Reef in the Maldives (from our travelling years), so I thought, why not?

Last night my dreams were about the past too, but they have faded away so quickly I can't remember even a glimpse of which bit of the past turned up.  It surprises me how little I think and dream about our 25 years in the Middle East, years which gave us so much. But clearly what happens when we are young impresses itself much more deeply into our memory.

We are sitting out regularly on our balcony at night now, with a glass of Captain B's homemade wine for him and decaff coffee for me. Though lately I have been having a glass of wine too - but try to ration that to twice a week. The weather has stayed coldish overall and this morning it is grey and cloudy.  I love it all. The beauty of Green and Sea never fails.  And our balcony flowers are splendid.

Could we ever get tired of the creation?  It changes constantly and can be so heartbreakingly lovely.  Well, I hope that the Captain and I will be enjoying our evening glass of wine/cup of coffee/ together a thousand years from now, a million years from now.  I hope we will all "inherit the earth" as Jesus promised, and live forever upon it.

When I think of all I have already learnt in just... well... a lot more than 39 years lets say... in fact, double it, and...  it's hard to believe given the Captain and I were a young married couple just yesterday... to get back to my point, when I think of all I have learnt in my 70 plus plus plus years, I wonder what it will be like to look back from the vantage point of 1,000 years and think of what I have learnt then!   

THE KIDNAPPING OF MRS CAPTAIN BUTTERFLY!!!!

To quote Beachcomber, who, after his startling headline:  FORTY HORSES WEDGED UP CHIMNEY!!!!, simply wrote "The story to fit this sensational  headline has not turned up yet", I will also say that the story to fit my sensational blog headline has not turned up yet. 

And hopefully it never will.  But what made me think of it is that the Captain and I just started watching a new series (well, new to us), on one of those App thingummies we have on our TV. It stars Trevor Eve and John Hannah, which is what made us think it might be worth a watch.

It stars Trevor as a sort of hostage negotiator - it's called Kidnap and Ransom (I think).  It's compelling and scary - if implausible.

So I couldn't help but wonder what would have happened had Col been a high-flying exec when we worked in the Middle East, and I had been kidnapped - and the call came.

Kidnapper:  (sinister)  "We have your wife.  The price is a million dollars."

Captain B: (indignant) "A million dollars!  I'm not taking her back for less than 2 million, mate! And I want it in used notes." (slams phone down).

The Kidnapping of Mrs Captain B would have been a very short TV series.

The photo is of the young Mrs. Captain on one of our Cornish holidays with the Merrits - so long ago.

Well, me and my shoes made it to the doctors on Friday - paid for it, painwise, on Saturday though.

Col was at home Saturday and Sunday - most unusual, and, with a lot of help from Pen we sorted out a very short Youtube video presentation for Waiting for Gordo.

After some thought, I decided to read the dedication, as it involves the word Shoal (the short video we have chosen as a background is one of a Maldivian shoal taken by Captain B in his diving days) and then the small preface which appears under the title the book had originally - Small Island.  If Fantastic Books approves it, then in time it will appear on Youtube and maybe I will sell a book or two. Who knows?

I hope to be able to blog it soon.

The Lamb

 

Guardian Pick

60

Rheumatoid Arthritis is agony. It isn't 'oh my dad has a twinge of that in his thumb', it's an auto immune disease that includes pain so extreme that the touch of a sheet can make you shout, and flu-like fatigue. The meds are often toxic with severe side effects. There is no cure, just management. It causes lung and heart disease (as I discovered last year, needing emergency heart surgery after 15 years with RA). It's quite well known that cold damp weather can trigger it but not many people know that heatwaves are also a powerful trigger. So yes, here's another group of people who have a very bad time in the heat. (Apologies to anyone recently diagnosed, this isn't meant to scare. Push for help, many hospitals now favour early intervention with the powerful meds. Accept them if possible).

https://www.theguardian.com/commentisfree/2026/may/29/people-disabilities-heatwaves-uncomfortable-safe-climate-crisis#comment-174763135

I found this comment under a Guardian article and was sad at how accurate it is, as clearly the writer is going through it.  I have had rheumatoid arthritis since my late thirties, though it took a while to diagnose, as the family kind we have is apparently sero-negative (I hope I have the term right). They do now have a test to diagnose it.  It was a doctor in the A & E Department of our company hospital in Dhahran who first told me it was arthritis. I had been rushed in by ambulance, I was paralysed down my right side and they thought I had a stroke.  The Saudi doctor took one look at me and said "You have arthritis", and referred me to Rheumatology.  Where I still attend -  just a different hospital now.

Interesting and worrying about it causing lung and heart disease, as both my mother and her mother - severely arthritic - died of heart attacks. And I have had a pulmonary embolism.  At the moment my immune system is mounting a vicious attack on my skin, which is painful but not lethal - yet...

Well, I wondered about what photo could head this rather dismal medical blog and decided to put "lamb" into the search engine in Col's photo gallery.  I was thinking of the promise of perfect health in the restored earthly paradise and me (hopefully there) gambolling about like a Spring lamb. But what came up was The Lamb Pub. So I have used that.

The pic probably suggest more Drowning ones Sorrows than Gambolling about, but as it is a pretty pub - a popular spot for lunch - and a nice photo of a happy place - it might cheer this blog up a bit.

The pigeons have left the balcony and hopefully found themselves a nest site elsewhere.  Springwatch, fascinating as ever, is showing us so many nests this year - but also so many tragedies that go along with them, as nature is still "red in tooth and claw", and will be until God's Kingdom is ruling over the whole earth, restoring the peaceful and perfect balance of Eden worldwide.

Me and my foot have to get to the docs for yet another blood test this morning, hopefully not arriving shoeless - and Col has a visit with the FLO (Finds Liaison Officer to us civilians) at the Museum later.

The Common Spotted Orchid

We chose a Common Spotted Orchid as our calendar picture for June -  a COMMON Spotted Orchid.  Hyacinth Bucket - sorry Bouquet  - would not have given our calendar house room this year.

Saturday was a very stormy day, wonderful waves, Sunday was sunny but not warm.  I pixellated myself to the Kingdom Hall on Sunday morning, even though Col was at home - no detecting, on either Saturday or Sunday!  

He would have been able to help me dress and chauffeur me, but my right foot was so swollen and painful I could hardly walk, let alone get it into a shoe. It was a comforting meeting, reminding us that we can be strong and endure IF we rely on Jehovah to give us the strength.

And this is a phrase from the public talk I want to hold on to.  The speaker pointed out that whatever problems and stresses we are going through, it is "only a single page in our life story".

Yes.  If we inherit the earth, and live forever upon it, and are to be joyful forever, it does put whatever we are going through now into its right perspective.  Our lives, even at best, are so short now, so quickly gone. 

Col was a bee of busyness making his chutney, which he does about once a year.  As I have probably said before, when he made it in Saudi, we could go out and pick fresh dates to go in it.  Which was not something I had ever expected to be doing.

A pair of pigeons are trying to build a nest in the downpipe on our balcony - which will be a disaster if we don't stop them.  Col has filled it up with wire again, and we had the balcony door open for a while to deter them.  They clearly need to find somewhere soon, and I can only hope they will.

Oh for the time when God's Kingdom is ruling over the earth and we can help all the little creatures on it to find safe and secure nests in which to bring up their families.  There will be such happiness in being able to care for the earthly creation properly.

Cut Grass Lies Frail

 

CUT GRASS

by Philip Larkin

Cut grass lies frail:
Brief is the breath
Mown stalks exhale.
Long, long the death

It dies in the white hours
Of young-leafed June
With chestnut flowers,
With hedges snowlike strewn,

White lilac bowed,
Lost lanes of Queen Anne's lace,
And that high-builded cloud
Moving at summer's pace.

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


I think it has to be a Philip Larkin poem for June - as it expresses both beauty and sadness.  

Our Bible study on Wednesday morning went well, and my gallant chauffeur picked me up from the Kingdom Hall Thursday night and we drove back home into a wonderful sunset.  He is also a valet these days as I can't get myself dressed to Kingdom Hall standards without his help.

Of course I saw the sunset through a veil of black spots and something like a small knot of hair - effects left by my cataract operation. But it was beautiful nonetheless.

Poor Col spent Friday trying to get the insurance on my car renewed - not that I will be driving again, but he has decided to keep it and use it for the moment. It proved immensely difficult finding a human being he could actually talk to. And my main achievement of the day was making a carrot cake for the freezer. And that takes it out of me to an alarming extent these days.
I still find myself wanting to write limericks:
There was a young man of Dhahran
Who drove out to sea in his van
It was foolish of him
as he could not swim
and neither, it seems, could his van.

My (no longer) young man (no longer) of Dhahran is having loads of visitors to his balcony moth hotel at the moment He will soon be checking them out - into the rain this morning.

Him Basil Fawlty - me Sybil.

 

Flowers for Henry Nowak

These are some flowers for Henry. As I feel I must note the tragedy that has befallen young Henry Nowak and his family - a tragedy that has been filling the media. Why all this publicity given that, horribly, knife crime seems to have become almost routine on our streets, and given that "the increase of lawlessness" is earthwide? All over the world precious people are being slaughtered as if they were of no value.

But this happened just down the coast from us. And it is the contrast in the way young Henry was treated, and the way the murderer was treated by the forces of law and order that is so startling, so upsetting.

He was dying on the pavement, choking on his own blood, and the Police handcuffed, arrested and cautioned him. He was shown no kindness, no courtesy - and given no help.

But I will leave the rest to his very dignified father, Mark Nowak. Speaking after the court case which has jailed the murderer of his son, he said "justice alone is not enough", adding that the way his son was treated, compared to Digwa, was "unbearable".

"Let me be absolutely clear - we hold Vickrum Digwa solely and 100 per cent responsible for the brutal murder of our son," the father said. "But Henry should not have died on the streets of Southampton in police custody. The way he was treated was inhumane and degrading."

'His murderer, however, was afforded decency. He was believed. He was not handcuffed when arrested. He was not handcuffed when transported to the police station. As far as we understand, he was never handcuffed at all."

It is, as his father said, unbearable. And it all happened just down the road from here. So it is both heartbreaking and frightening.

In shining contrast the law of our loving Creator, Jehovah, is perfect and impartial. He has one standard for all, and knows, loves and values every one of his subjects. And he has taught us what a serious thing it is to take a human life.

God's word really is a beacon of light shining in a cruel and unjust world system. Please can it draw more and more of us to our loving Creator.

And I hope that once the whole earth is at peace under the loving rule of the Kingdom of God, the heavenly government, for whose coming Jesus taught us to pray, Jehovah will wake young Henry from the dreamless sleep of death and he will be reunited with his family. I hope that for so many more of us, the human family, too.

So I will end with this beautiful promise from the Book of Isaiah:

Your dead will live...

Awake and shout joyfully,

You residents in the dust!

For your dew is as the dew of the morning,

And the earth will let those powerless in death come to life.

Two Poems

 

These are two more poems I have blogged before, but I want to keep sharing them..

I found them both in Hand Luggage - a quirky anthology by John Bayley.  And they could not be more different.

The first is A War by Randall Jarrell.  Its context is World War 2, and it is tragically topical.  The way he inverts the expression: "You can't make an omelette without breaking eggs" gives the familiar saying startling effect.  The poet knew only too well what he was talking about as he was in the US Airforce at the time.

A WAR

by Randall Jarrell

There set out slowly, for a Different World.

At four, on winter mornings, different legs...

You can't break eggs without making an omelette

 - That's what they tell the eggs.

The "different legs" suggests to me how many young men have been sacrificed to the gods of war - relays of them.  As they are being sacrificed to this day, and will be I guess until God's Kingdom is ruling over the earth.

The other poem I wanted to share is a gentle parody of Thomas Hardy (whose poems I love): 

A Luncheon (Thomas Hardy entertains the Prince of Wales)

by Max Beerbohm

Lift latch, step in, be welcome, Sir,
Albeit to see you I'm unglad
And your face is fraught with a deathly shyness
Bleaching what pink it may have had,
Come in, come in, Your Royal Highness.

Beautiful weather? — Sir, that's true,
Though the farmers are casting rueful looks
At tilth's and pasture's dearth of spryness. —
Yes, Sir, I've written several books. —
A little more chicken, Your Royal Highness?

Lift latch, step out, your car is there,
To bear you hence from this antient vale.
We are both of us aged by our strange brief nighness,
But each of us lives to tell the tale.
Farewell, farewell, Your Royal Highness.

https://www.poetrynook.com/poem/luncheon

As John Bayley says in his intro to the poem, Hardy would probably have appreciated it too.  I hope so anyway.

How creative Jehovah made us to be.  But we are made in his image, and he is "the Grand Creator".  And damaged though we all are at the moment, we can still be very creative.  We need to be I think.  And  I have chosen one of Col's photos of a grand creation, the Swallowtail butterfly, to head this blog.  It was taken on one of his trips to Corfu.

It is lovelier than the most expensive Tiffany jewel, and has finer engineering than our latest computer system.  Doesn't it tell us of its Grand Creator as clearly as if it spoke?

I managed to get to the Kingdom Hall by person, not pixel, on Thursday, thanks to my gallant chauffeur and valet Captain Butterfly.  Two more blood tests on Friday - horrendously bruised arm, not the fault of the nurse, but due to the state of me. It was still very hot, but we drove to the Post Office and I managed to stock up on the little cards that I am using in my witnessing, and Col went and got some more bread and some strawberries from Waitrose. I simply could not make it the few steps to  Waitrose to go with him, which I am trying not to get too depressed about.

When we came back from the shops there was a cool breeze coming off the sea which was so welcome.

Another June approaches rapidly... how grateful I am to be here still.  

We had a special morning at the Kingdom Hall yesterday - I had to attend by Zoom as Col was off with the detectorist lads.  When I have digested a few points I will probably blog them.

Shadow Dreams

My dreams keep taking me back to the house of my 1950s childhood - which appears in a couple of my books as 5 Disraeli Crescent. It worries me a little bit.

The other night I dreamt about Shadow, the lovely golden retriever from our expat days.  So here is a photo of him, in the desert, the only environment he ever knew.  And while the dream started in our flat here, it ended up in the front garden of Disraeli Crescent, in the rain. In the interim two lions turned up in the flat/house of my dream. I wondered where they had come from and what to do about them, but they seemed OK.  Then I remembered I had to let Shadow out. We hadn't had a walk as it was pouring with rain, so I opened the front door and let him into the large front garden at Disraeli Crescent, having first made sure that the front gate was securely locked so he couldn't get into the road.

I do remember wondering if the gate would still be there, so at some level I was aware that 5 Disraeli was in the past.  The gate was there, but I had to make an effort for it to be, I had to sort of dream it into existence.

Then I was looking for Shadow, not finding him, and realising that he was out with the door closed, went and got him. The rain had stopped and he was cuddled up to a large and fluffy cat, the like of which was never seen in the Northern hometown of my 1950s.  That reminded me I needed to feed him. And the lions!  But the lions had vanished and just as it dawned on me they must have gone out while I opened the door for Shadow, I woke up - feeling guilty that I hadn't fed any of them.

Our heatwave continues, It was a Bank Holiday weekend too, which usually guarantees rain.  I had never seen beach and Green so full as it was on Monday - and when I looked out in the morning, nearly every one of the many guest parking spots in our block of flats was already full.  Things are getting scarily crowded.

There was a recent news item showing a tiny village in the beautiful Italian Tyrol which has become so full of coach parties that the locals were having a problem getting out of their front doors which opened straight onto the narrow tourist-packed streets.

So I am wondering why people want to travel anywhere on a Bank Holiday, however sunny.  Yet clearly they do.  The heat, the hassle, the traffic jams, the parking problems, the public loos (aargghh)... the crowded beaches. Though admittedly we do have acres of sand down here.

Col left the Archeological site early on Tuesday, as it was so HOT.  And he was Mr. Desert Dweller (for 25 years)! 

Today was very hot too, but the car situation in our block of flats had eased as the Bank holiday is over.   And we went to spend the morning with our Bible student - the Flower lady - finishing the chapter on Why do Evil and Suffering Exist.  Next week, all being well, we start on How Can Jesus' Death Save Us?   

We were taught at school that Jesus died for us.  But what does that mean - and why?   The Inspired Scriptures, from Genesis to Revelation explain it clearly and logically, and I hope that our student is going to see that.

Wulf and Eadwacer

I have blogged this poem before, some years ago. But it speaks so powerfully of the tragedy we, the human family, have been living in since the loss of Eden, that I want to blog it again.

Wulf and Eadwacer

Anonymous

The men of my tribe would treat him as game:
if he comes to the camp they will kill him outright.

            Our fate is forked.

Wulf is on one island, I on another.
Mine is a fastness: the fens girdle it
and it is defended by the fiercest men.
If he comes to the camp they will kill him for sure.

            Our fate is forked.

It was rainy weather, and I wept by the hearth,
thinking of my Wulf's far wanderings;
one of the captains caught me in his arms.
It gladdened me then; but it grieved me too.

Wulf, my Wulf, it was wanting you
that made me sick, your seldom coming,
the hollowness at heart; not the hunger I spoke of.

Do you hear, Eadwacer?  Our whelp Wulf shall take to the wood.
What was never bound is broken easily,
            our song together.   

English - 10th century - translated by Michael Alexander

https://voetica.com/poem/5813

There are many translations of this, but Michael Alexander's is my favourite. It is a cry of pain from the past, its sadness and longing are so immediate, so vivid.  Its meaning is not quite clear beyond that.  Nor do I know how to pronounce Eadwacer.  I suppose scholars of Anglo-Saxon English would know.

The pic that heads the blog is of Strumpshaw Fen, in Norfolk. It is from Col's photo gallery of course.  We had a couple of holidays there in our early retirement, when I could still get about - and WALK!

We were hunting the wild Swallowtail butterfly.  And we were, as we thought, on our own on a boardwalk amidst the marshy Fen, when one landed in front of us!  Immediately hordes of middle-aged Butterfliers appeared from the rushes, with cameras, and it was well and truly photographed. 

And a very sad bit of news.   The identity of the three young women found drowned on one of our local beaches has finally been revealed. They were sisters, Londoners, down here on holiday.  It seems that no-one else was involved, this was an accident, of awful proportions.  My guess would be that they were paddling on the slippery pebbles, all moving in the undertow, close to a drop-off they did not know was there, and one of them slipped into the deep water and the others tried to help...   And it was dark and cold...  Well, God bless them and remember them when the time comes for the resurrection, so that they will next open their eyes in the restored earthly paradise.

My condolences to their family.  What a terrible loss.

But how sad things have been since the loss of Eden, the sadness expressed by the writer of Wulf and Eadwacer  all those centuries ago - and we still have continuing clan warfare, only on a titanic scale, and then these daily tragedies.

And on a much much more minor note, I am feeling really sick as I try to adjust to a new bp medication.  I have to give it 3 weeks at least. I had hoped to get to the Kingdom Hall Thursday night, but had to hitch up my pixels and go on Zoom. Col took one look at me when I got back and said I was not going anywhere.  

We had hoped to visit Jacks on Friday morning, but I am still not up to going anywhere.  The balcony is as far as I have gone all week. And what a privilege to have that, with its constant view of the ever changing English Channel.

And, right on time for the Bank Holiday weekend, a heatwave arrived.  Both beach and Green are going to be very busy.  

Captain Butterfly came back early from his metal detecting.  HE CAME BACK EARLY.  Apparently it was just too hot.  And this is  a man who has spent days in the Saudi desert  - in Summer.  So, yes, this is quite a heatwave we are having. There is not a parking space left locally as myriads have headed for the beach.

I just hope for no more beach tragedies.

Moonpenny Daisies

 

The Moonpenny daisies are lining the roads and filling the fields now, along with all the splendid flowers of May.

There once were some daisies of Moon,

resplendent in their Springtime bloom,
by the roadside in drifts, 

they are paradise gifts,
and they do help to lift all the gloom.

Monday was a day of Zooms (to continue the rhyme scheme).  We both Zoomed with our siblings - well, not with Nute as she was working.  And i also had three Zoom sessions with friends.

I managed a bit of studying and witnessing, but still feel very drained from the last three weeks, which ended with that tiring trek to the hospital on Friday.

We woke up to stormy weather on Tuesday - the rain was much needed I must say. Though, as I begin to write this blog, we are wondering if Col's Tuesday session with the archeologists will go ahead or not. It's a really fierce storm!  Anyway he did trek out into the storm, laden with metal detectors and his sandwich lunch.  Next stop K2!!  (Or maybe not.)

And he had some very interesting finds.  He brought them home in photo form only, and they should be appearing on his blog in time.  Bea rang to get the name of the scented flowers we have on our balcony - Nemesia.  We are having to grow them from seed this year - and they are sprouting up well. They are like a little green forest on the balcony, soon, hopefully to be a forest of scented flowers.

Our Bible Study went well - I think. And we are welcome to come back next week.  I continue with my Not Home letters, and also am slowly doing the block of flats I was given for my territory this month. Every day that goes past, makes the Kingdom preaching work that Jesus left for his followers to do more urgent.

I had such a strange vivid dream in the early hours. Col's alarm clock when off at 4:30 - as it often does on Detecting days - but I managed to fall into a deep sleep almost straightaway - well into a vivid dream anyway.  I had had some kind of fall, just leaving me mildly bruised, but I had been sent to A & E and was now in the operating theatre awaiting an operation to make me more steady on my feet.  All the nurses and technicians were getting themselves dressed up in this vivid stripy garb. I really did not want the operation. But I remember thinking that if the worst came to the worst, and I did not make it through the operation (which I doubt I would), then as long as Jehovah remembers me, I would next open my years in the paradise earth.

That was a very comforting thought, but I was glad to wake up and find myself in my own bedroom, not in an operating theatre.

The Bow in the Cloud

 

There was a double rainbow on Wednesday, arching from sea to land. You can see a glimpse of the double bow in Captain B's photo.  And the Moonpenny daisies are out everywhere now, lining the roads as we drove to Worthing for my latest hospital appointment.  All went OK.  But but but - how many more times am I going to see the splendid flowers of May?

Of course, if I inherit the earth, as Jesus promised, I will never have to leave them behind. But that remains to be seen. It is not in my power to grant.  As things are now, I have very few Springs left - if any more at all.  I have to keep reminding myself that, at my advanced age, I can't expect to feel wonderful, and just to be grateful still to be here.

The first Biblical reference to a rainbow is in the account of the covenant God made with Noah and his offspring after the Flood survivors came out of the ark.  (Genesis 9:8-17)  This splendid sight of itself would have been reassuring and an indication of peace to Noah and his family.

But of course the ransom and the rule of the heavenly government, the Kingdom of God, were still centuries away.  So rather than peace on earth we have - well, watch any episode of the News.

And here is a strange and startling headline from today. Rioting over a watch...  ?

From the online Daily Mail today, under the heading SWATCH STAMPEDES:

Violent scenes erupted across Britain, Europe and the US this weekend after the launch of Swatch's latest limited-edition watch - sparking overnight queues, mass crowd surges and police interventions. Thousands of desperate shoppers camped outside stores for days in the hope of securing one of the £335 'Royal Pop' watches - a collaboration between Swatch and luxury brand Audemars Piguet. But the frenzy quickly descended into chaos, with fights breaking out, police dog units deployed and stores forced to shut their doors after crowds overwhelmed security staff.

https://www.dailymail.com/news/article-15825625/brawls-globe-WATCH-Violent-scenes-Europe-UK-US-Swatch.html

That is so sad - if true - and the photos do look distressing.  But it reminds me of an expression the Bible uses:

Do not love either the world or the things in the world. If anyone loves the world, the love of the Father is not in him; because everything in the world—the desire of the flesh and the desire of the eyes and the showy display of one’s means of life—does not originate with the Father, but originates with the world. - 1 John 2:15.16

The phrase the showy display of one's means of life seems to describe the Designer Label culture very well.

There was a first for our Moth Hotel when we checked the guests out this morning.  We had a pair of honeymooners - two Shuttle-shaped Darts, clearly very much in love.  I hope life goes well for them, and their many children.

A Lunar Double Strike

 

This moth, found in our moth hotel on Sunday morning, is a very rare sighting indeed (for our location)- and for sure it is new to our balcony. Col was thrilled.  It is beautiful and has an amazing name too : the Lunar Double Strike. It could be the title of a best selling SciFi Novel.

We went early to our student on Wednesday morning and had a good session.  She does seem to be so much more receptive now.

Bea called  - and I also emailed her as I was rather distracted while Col was talking to her as I was looking for the paper for the printer which seemed to have disappeared.

Spoke to Bea again Thursday morning, and we sent each other various emails,  and made the usual apple crumble, and the (fairly) usual mushroom curry.  And realised that I would have to Zoom to the meeting this evening and do my part on the dreaded Zoom cameras.

And an idea for a limerick suddenly came to me - re the crumble:

There once were two apples so green

flour, sugar, butter (not margarine)
all crumbled somehow
Colin said "Wow!"
then they disappeared from the scene.

If only I had thought to get out my scary Smartphone and photograph it while it was still in its pristine state!  On the other hand, all that might have done is added to my collection of photos of me looking especially gormless while saying "How does this work?"

There was a tragedy occurring on a local beach on Wednesday morning. The bodies of three women were found floating in the water.  At first it was assumed they must have been swimmers who got into trouble, but as the day went on it seems they may likely have been from a student party that was apparently happening at a beachfront nightclub the previous night.  Very strange either way - and especially tragic in that they are all so young.

There wasn't really a nightclub culture in my student days, for which I am very grateful.  

However, it now seems they were all relatives - sisters? - all down from London and what may have happened is that, not knowing the beach, they went for a paddle, not realising that there was a sudden sharp drop off and powerful currents, including undertow.  I didn't know about the drop off myself.  It could be that one of them got into trouble and the others tried to help.

What a frightening and dangerous world it is for us, the children of Adam, since the loss of Eden, so that even what should be a pleasant paddle in the sea can turn into such a tragedy.

I hope the family of the girls know that they are not lost, but are sleeping safe in "the everlasting arms".

Jehovah will wake them from the dreamless sleep of death when the time comes, but not until the whole earth is restored to paradise, under the loving rule of the Kingdom of God. They will wake in perfect safety then, with nothing to distress them.