The Violet Helleborine

This lovely orchid - a Violet Helleborine - was the photo we chose for our November calendar.  Appropriately the first of November dawned misty.  One of the Petulas was busy tending the babies out on the balcony - two fine fat little pigeons, just starting out on their journey in this amazing and wonderful world.  But unfortunately still a dangerous one for all little creatures - for all of us.

Should I busy myself knitting a couple of little parachutes to help them make their first excursion from our balcony?

Though I am still so tired I hardly know what to do with myself - beyond sleep - which I seem unable to do at the moment.  Aaaarrrrggghhhh.  Old age is not easy.  

Had a couple of Zoom sessions on Monday morning, one with a friend, the second with my siblings - bar Nute, who was off having her winter flu shot.  And I have a double Zoom session this afternoon during which I hope to get some field service in.

It occurs to me that Violet Helleborine would be a great name for a fictional character in a book I have yet to write.  Should she be a down to earth Vi, or a rather upmarket Ms.Helleborine?  But where is the energy to write it?  I have a very interesting email correspondence going with a gentleman who found one of my letters in his holiday home when he arrived for a brief break, and that must be continued. I am hoping to do that this afternoon.  

We had an encouraging visit from a brother from Bethel at the weekend.  He gave us the public talk CAN TRUTH  BE FOUND?

Here are two of the Scriptures he referenced.

Proverbs 14:15:  The naive person believes every word, but the shrewd one ponders each step.

John 17:17: Sanctify them by means of the truth; your word is truth.

We need to use our reason.  Our faith must be based on reason, or what is to stop us from believing that the moon is made of green cheese?   And, as Jesus said, God's word is the truth.  But we can only be sure of that if we study it. Which is why we offer a free Home Bible Course to all who will accept one.  

You can also find it on JW.org.  It is an interactive course, with some great little videos.

My Mini Saga

 

THE FORESIGHT SAGA

by me

My darling baby

When you grow up

Your life will be wrecked

When your wife runs off

With an architect

But you'll marry again

That’s for sure

And have a daughter

You'll just adore.

This was published, but I can't now remember where. I think I wrote it for a sort of competition with a theme, presumably a min-saga. It was the sort of competition where all the entries do get published though.

The reason for the photograph of my father that heads this blog is that once he had stopped being a para in the Polish Army, he became an architect and was involved in designing and building the brave new world they hoped for in the wake of the horrors of the second World War.

It was a brave and sincere attempt by so many. But they were up against the warning in the Hebrew Scriptures that "it does not belong to man who is walking even to direct his step".

We cannot put right what has gone wrong on the earth since the loss of Eden. But our Creator, Jehovah, can and will. He has not abandoned us to this.

My father met my mother when they were both studying at the School of Architecture at Liverpool Uni. And what are the chances they would ever have met - him from from a small country town in what was then Belarus, and her from a small Lancashire village - where our child paradise of Nabbs Cottage, her childhood home, was. They made their marriage last too, for which we, their children, will always be grateful.

I hope I will see them both again when the time comes for the resurrection - if we are all there. The Book of Daniel tells us that "many of those asleep in the dust of the ground" will wake up. Many, but not all.

We are off to visit the Lady of the Flowers this morning. She is just back from a family funeral and is longing to tell us all about it. It has awakened so many memories, as these things do.

And all three of us are ladies in our eighties - well me almost so - and so we have many layers of memory. And also we find that when once we met up with our families at weddings, these days it tends to be at funerals...

Col is off to join the lads in the Detecting Field.

The Abandoned Nest?

Hope is the thing with feathers

by Emily Dickinson

“Hope” is the thing with feathers -

That perches in the soul -

And sings the tune without the words -

And never stops - at all -

And sweetest - in the Gale - is heard -

And sore must be the storm -

That could abash the little Bird

That kept so many warm -

I’ve heard it in the chillest land -

And on the strangest Sea -

Yet - never - in Extremity,

It asked a crumb - of me.

https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/42889/hope-is-the-thing-with-feathers-314

Yet another stormy day and night Saturday to Sunday, though on Sunday we woke up to sunshine.  The clocks went back Saturday night, which somehow we managed to remember, and Col left at 7:00 with his metal detectors and sandwiches.  

The fireworks  - which had been postponed from Saturday due to the storm - started up suddenly just after 8:00 Sunday evening. As usual, it sounded like WW3 had started just outside our window.  I went straight out to the balcony hoping that my being there might calm the Petulas down. But the nest was abandoned...   It is very sad what the animal creation have to go through. 

However come Monday morning one of the valiant Petulas was back on the nest.  And Captain B said that she must have returned straightaway as she was back there when he was out photographing the fireworks.  I can't see them succeeding though - the nest is so much in the wrong place - but I do hope for them.

Having said all that, there was a shout from Captain B who was out on the balcony, checking guests out of his Moth Hotel this morning.  I went out to find two chicks sitting in the nest.  Two!  So they have done it, against all the odds. Well, as long as the little ones can get safely aloft that is.

Will we have to help?  Will they let us?  And if so, how?

And what can we do to deter them from choosing our balcony again?  Though I suppose if they come and go without making too much noise, or mess, or annoying the neighbours, it wouldn't matter if they did.

Storm Austen

Storm Austen rampaged all Thursday night leaving wonderful waves on The Channel.  The photo, while taken by Captain B, is of a previous storm.  The Petula pigeons are still sitting doggedly on their balcony nest in the full force of the gale.  They take turns.  What a night they have been through, valiant creatures. It is hard to imagine they will succeed, but who knows?

There is another storm on the way this weekend apparently, but this one will hit in the North.

I could have headed this blog:  A Pair of Old Crocks, though I know Captain B would have said Speak for yourself.  

The poor Captain was limping round this morning with a very sore foot and so I made him his breakfast and did my best to look after him.  I spent yesterday with such painful shoulders that I could hardly do anything.  It is a good thing that I felt a bit better this morning, or, well as I said: a pair of old crocks.

On Thursday I did manage to get some things done, by taking lots of rest in between.  I got myself up, dressed and showered (Col left very early for The Field) and believe me these days that seems like a real achievement.  I had finally emailed Bea to say a real thank you for the lovely silk tops she gave me and Nute. We had spoken on the phone about it previously.  And I replied to Krysia, thanking her for the card and powerful poems she had sent me, and wished her all the best with her current exhibition of paintings in London. 

Neither of us enjoyed our convent schooldays, and we have both written about it. 

And I managed to get a soup and a crumble made.  Which was very helpful as all Captain B had to do on Friday was to heat them up for our lunch.

Talking of creative endeavours, this is the link for our Fantastic Book videos so far:

 https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLbEI_U2rPe7g

Mine has not appeared yet, but it will.

Fantastic Books is a small and quirky publisher with some  - well - some fantastic books to its name.  So please do have a look.

This new storm may have hit the North with some force, as it is pelting down here now (in the afternoon), the fireworks, procession and bonfire have been cancelled, and the poor pigeons are still taking turns on their storm bound nest.

When God's Kingdom is ruling over the earth, then we will be able to arrange things so that every bird has a secure nesting spot, and we will be able to help them in any difficulties they may have.  So how much we all need it, us and all the earthly creation.

A Bad Night (Flare-up)

The Botanical Gardens in Autumn

(by me)

As the year sets slowly in the West

Its last dying glow

sets fire to the gardens

Chrysanthemums blaze

Virginia creeper reddens on stone walls.

Walking here, nearly forty, I know

How short it all is

How quickly it goes.

Shivering, I warm myself

at the dahlia's flame,

the firethorne's bright coals.

Here I am almost exactly 40 years after I wrote this...  and I will say again how short our lives are now, how quickly they go by.  

The older I get, the faster the years go.  People have sometimes asked me if I am bored in retirement.  All I can say is that when I have time to find out I will let them know.

I gave us both a bad night on Monday - right knee so painful I could not sleep or even get comfortable.  We tried heat cream, then Col got me some anti-inflammatories and paracetamol and, thank God, I was able to get back to sleep after a while.  It is still painful - everything is - but not at the acute stage it was in the early hours.

Once we were able to get to sleep, we then (not surprisingly) slept in and had a somewhat confused day.  Col got the lunch - usually he does breakfast and I do lunch and dinner.  At least both soup and crumble were already made, it was a matter of hotting them up and organising trays.  We usually lunch together while watching Bargain Hunt and saying, at regular intervals, "They have paid too much for that".

I rang the Flower Lady to say I would not be able to come and see her on Wednesday as I had hoped.  I can barely walk round the flat, let alone get myself out anywhere. And I had a Zoom field service session with a sister in the afternoon which cheered me up.  I managed a sort of scrap supper - our Supermarket delivery arrives Tuesday night - involving a packet of samosas from the freezer, some new potatoes and peas, followed by fruit and yoghurt.

It is a rainy morning with a bit of a wild sea building.  It all looks wonderful in the early morning light (as I write this blog).    The sky full of clouds, the sea dark and shining, the waves glistening white, and the tiles on our balcony very red as they are so wet.  And of course the valiant geraniums.

I have had the immense privilege of nearly eighty years on this beautiful earth, in all its moods and seasons, and it is nowhere near enough. So I continue to hope that Captain B and I, and all those we love, family and friends, and all of you my blog readers, will "inherit the earth" and live forever upon it.  

Fantastic Books

Us Fantastic Book authors have just started a small publicity campaign, which is appearing in various venues, including my facebook. I am trying to share as widely as possible.  We have all done a short video to publicise one of our books.

I am so pleased to be published - don't have the energy to do anything to sell my books - but I try to give what little help to the group of us authors that I can.

Friday began gray and rainy - which I love, but I did think of poor Petula on the balcony so bravely caring for her eggs. However, this is the sunshine coast and the sun did appear quite soon. 

We have found that Mr.Petula is doing his parently duty, flying in and taking his turn on the eggs, but he is being very discreet about it.

Captain B detected all day yesterday - found nothing - but was off again this morning, bright and early.  Oh for some of his energy - though I am very grateful indeed that he is coping with old age so much better than I am.

We had a Special Day in the congregation on Saturday, which replaced the usual Sunday meeting.  This was a Branch Visit when a representative from Watchtower HQ visits, to commend and encourage - which he did.

The theme of the talk was: "If God is with us, who will be against us."

And it was taken from Romans 8, verses 31-39.  And that chapter ends on such a comforting note: 

"For I am convinced that neither death nor life nor angels nor governments nor things now here nor things to come nor powers nor height nor depth nor any other creation will be able to separate us from God’s love that is in Christ Jesus our Lord."

Things are getting more and more difficult as lawlessness increases as Armageddon - the end of the current wicked system of things on the earth - approaches.  So we will need to keep strengthing our faith in the love our Creator has for each one of us, and in the power of the gift of the ransom sacrifice.

Captain B rang from The Field.  I asked how it was going, and told him not to find so many gold coins that he hurt his back trying to load them into the car and bring them back.  He laughed bitterly - so I guess no-one has found anything yet, not even a ring pull.

But then he came back very happy with a silver Soldino - which seems to have made the whole weekend's detecting worthwhile.

Petula

 

Petula Pigeon among the geraniums, as taken by Captain Butterfly.  It seems an insane place to nest to me, but then I am not a pigeon, so what do I know?   I guess at least it is safe from cats, dogs, packs of wandering hyenas or hungry tigers.  None of which have turned up on our balcony - as yet.

But if we dare to go away again, who knows what we will come back to?

Talking of tigers, a terrible thing has taken place in a Yorkshire Wildlife Park.  A man jumped into the tigers enclosure and, inevitably, was killed.  An eyewitness stated the man was wearing headphones, pacing, dancing, and asking for photos before entering the enclosure. A bystander reportedly tried to pull him back before he dropped into the two-acre reserve.

They are not going to kill the tiger, thank goodness, as it was in no way at fault. Somebody leapt into its enclosure and it went on fierce defence.

It does seem that more and more people are cracking up, as the pressures increase.  And, of course, we, the damaged children of Adam, are further from the perfection of Eden than any previous generation.

Would it be fair to say that we are as imperfect as Jehovah is going to let the human race get, as the rescue promised in Eden is so close now?   And how much we need it.

When that rescue comes and the whole earth is being transformed to the paradise it was always meant to be, I hope Jehovah will wake the young man who was killed from the dreamless sleep of death. Maybe he will wake up next to a large, friendly purring tiger, as it seems that is what the poor lad had hoped to find when he jumped.

We had our flu and covid jabs on Tuesday, which was exhausting for me - just getting in and out of the car seems almost too much.  I hope and pray I can get some energy back soon.  I talked to the Lady of the Flowers, wishing her success with her op tomorrow - just a minor one, thankfully - and had a double Zoom witnessing session in the afternoon, starting on the new territory have been given for my letter writing.

It was nice to catch up with one of my regular field service partners.  In the days when I could walk, we used to go on the door to door work, but now we do letters together by Zoom.  

Captain Butterfly left very early for The Field - a metal detector at every corner - and it remains to be seen whether I will be able to get myself dressed without help - or not. Sometimes I can, sometimes I can't.

They call old age "a second childhood" don't they?  And, yes, now I can't always manage to get myself dressed...   I must remember to be grateful that I am still here and still able to give a Kingdom witness, albeit a limited one.

The October Calendar

We chose a Southern Marsh Orchid for our October calendar.  And the fact that we are now in October makes me realise we should think about next year's calendar if we are going to do one.  Bur what will our subject be?

Wednesday morning was cold and rainy.  The valiant pigeon still sits on her nest. We are going to have to secure our balcony next time we go away...  I have decided to call her Petula as she is sitting among geranium petals.  I pop out to say a quiet hello once or twice a day, but keep it short, as it stresses her out.  Col has got a lovely photo of her, so I hope that will head my next blog.

I find myself hoping that her nest fails, so she and Mr.P will look for a different spot next time - anywhere other than our balcony - but then I feel mean as she is so bravely dedicated to her eggs, sitting tight even when two fearsome monsters (the Captain and me) loom over her to say a gentle hello.

Col has put some food and water down within her reach, but she isn't touching them, so Mr.P must be feeding her. He is very discreet though, as we never see him.  Having said that I did notice a crafty flap late afternoon which must have been him returning with her evening meal - or her evening mealworm?

I am finding it very hard to recover from the rigours of the last few weeks - hard to sleep, hard to do anything.  But I guess this is old age. And I am worryingly like my granny in her last year - still living in her own home - still coping valiantly - but with many sit downs and breathless pauses.

And I would not like to claim that I am managing as valiantly as my gran did.  For one thing, I have Captain B to help and support me all the way - but she had been a widow for a long time.  Both my grandfathers had died before I was born. And I never met my Polish grandma because of the Iron Curtain that Stalin had brought down across Europe, cutting my father - and so many others - off from the remnants of his family.

Today we have our family Zoom though John cannot make it.   It is a grey and stormy day - it will bring a lot of leaves down - the sound of the sea is wonderful, and there was a fantastic sunrise I think as I happened to look out earlier and the tops of the trees in the front gardens were all gold.

I think poor rained-on Petula has been turning her eggs...  

The George at Hathersage

On Saturday we met Bea, Simon and Phyllis at The George at Hathersage for lunch.  And what an excellent lunch it was.  We have never been there before. When we lived in Sheffield we used to go to the Scotsman's Pack - I think it was in the days of Jim and Sarah.  And that is another long long time ago.

I asked Col to take a photo of the Autumnal flower arrangement outside the pub.  It was such a lovely drive through Derbyshire in the Autumn sunshine.  Bea said the same of her drive.

I had cod with a sweet potato and herb cake, broccoli, and an exquisite butter sauce, and Himself had a very tender beef dish.  I then followed up - sheer greed - with an apple and ginger pudding with coconut ice cream that I was simply not able to finish, good though it was.

Maybe this is the moment to talk about the delicious meals Nute cooked for us: stir fry chicken, sphagbol, and a berry crumble to name a few.  All I was capable of was making the lunchtime soup.

I wonder if we will get to The George again. I hope so. It is an excellent meeting point for us and the Marple diaspora.  On the other hand, I found myself wondering if this would be my last trip to my beautiful hometown.  Since my parents moved there when I was four I have either lived in Sheffield, or visited at least once a year.  But will I be able to continue. Was this my last visit?

Old age is a series of "lasts" not all realised they are "the last time" until they have gone.

Of course I hope to "inherit the earth", as Jesus promised, and live forever on this splendid planet, but that remains in Jehovah's hands.  And the way things are going, if I am there I will have to come the long way round, by the resurrection.

Compelled by Squirrels

I would say propelled by squirrels, but I am not really capable of any kind of propulsion these days.  Anyway, during the last two weeks while we have been at the bungalow and I have been sitting in the dining room typing away on my computer - being as housebound there as I am here - several times a squirrel has come up to the window, stood up, scrabbling at it and staring at me. This has compelled me to get up, slowly and painfully, creak off to the kitchen, get a handful of nuts and go out and feed the beast.

The summer of drought has probably left them short of food.

We drove back down to the South Coast on Monday - 5 hours door to door and a much much easier journey traffic wise than the journey up two weeks ago.  And it was another lovely Autumn day.  

However a seagull has set up home on our balcony while we were away!!   She is sitting one of our flower boxes on what may be eggs  - though I so much hope not - and, brave creature, will not move.  I think all we can do is use the balcony to the max and hope they will get the idea that this is not a suitable place to raise their children. And, surely, if there are eggs, they won't hatch?  Isn't this the wrong time of year?

I daren't look it up in case I find they have three broods a year.

The photo above is of a Sheffield Squirrel on one of Nute's bird feeders.

A Mini Aramco Reunion

These are the pots that Anne Marie Sheal made for in our expat years. We still use most of them, and they all decorate our flat in their various ways.

We almost managed a bit of an Aramco reunion, as Julia came over for lunch on Wednesday just missing Peter, Marie's husband, who didn't arrive till early evening.  It was good to talk over old times and old memories and also to note how much we are all enjoying our retirement - despite the ill-health and the losses that come with age.

Both are keeping themselves amazingly busy in their different ways.  And Peter is busy writing a memoir, which I am hoping he will finish before I do, as it will obviously contain a lot about Anne Marie.

We gave Julia sandwiches, crisps and ice-cream for lunch, and Nute cooked a great supper of spagbol for Peter, followed by the chocs that Julia had bought us.  Thanks Julia!

I was browsing the web today and came across this from Julie Burchill in an article about the Police and the tragedy of Henry Novak:

"Once more that quote from Huxley’s Crome Yellow comes to mind, as it does with increasing frequency:

‘The surest way to work up a crusade in favour of some good cause is to promise people they will have a chance of maltreating someone. To be able to destroy with good conscience, to be able to behave badly and call your bad behaviour “righteous indignation” – this is the height of psychological luxury, the most delicious of moral treats.’

https://www.spiked-online.com/2026/06/05/the-police-are-not-our-mates/

I guess that sums up my wariness about Woke - too much "righteous indignation", which looks a lot more like self-righteous indignation, goes along with it.  Be woke by all means, but don't use it as a tool with which to mob and target others.

But what I would really advise, what is truly life-saving, is to be awake in the spiritual sense, to listen to the Kingdom message that our loving Creator, Jehovah, is having preached worldwide.  And that is a message that heals our relationship with others, rather than causing us to judge and denounce them.

Life With Cats.

 

This is the latest instalment of Nute's life with her cats, written as a Shakespearean tragedy, on Facebook.

The cats are Janet's two (the "imaginary cats" - very shy cats taken in when Janet, their person and our friend, died) and who are super fussy about their food, even in cat terms; Bartholomew (a recently adopted stray); and the One-eyed Bandit (who arrives regularly via catflap from who knows where).

He is glossy and portly, so he either has a good home, or has a lot of regular cat restaurants to visit.  Probably both.

The photo is one Col took some years ago of one of the imaginaries, Abra, visible and asleep.

CATTUS ANDRONICUS: A Tragedy in One Act

Dramatis Personae

DANUTA – an elegant and wise woman of a certain age

ABRA – an Imaginary Cat of the grumpy persuasion

TABS – likewise, but mildly benign. The rumour that she has brain cells between her ears has been greatly exaggerated.

BARTHOLOMEW – a stray who was recently caught by a cat charity and de-nutted. BARTHOLOMEW is understandably a bit peeved about this.

THE ONE-EYED BANDIT – a one-eyed bandit.

Act 1, Scene 1

A kitchen. Enter DANUTA, bleary-eyed, yawning, would no doubt be scratching her bum if she wasn’t too elegant to do that. Heads towards kettle. Enter ABRA

ABRA: Yow! Yow! Yow! Yow!

DANUTA: sighs and diverts from kettle. Opens tin of super-expensive cat food and offers it to ABRA.

ABRA: Ack! (spurns food with burying motions) Yow! Yow! Yow! Yow!

DANUTA rotates cat dish south-east, north-west and finally nor-nor-west. ABRA consents to eat.

DANUTA heads back towards kettle. Enter TABS.

TABS: Chirp. Chirpchirpchirpchirp. (Walks in little circles) Chirp!

DANUTA: Sighs and diverts from kettle again. Opens a tin of different flavoured super-expensive cat food. Aligns the dish with the shadow cast by Stonehenge on the first Tuesday in May 1890.

TABS: Ack! (spurns food and makes burying motions) Chirp! Chirp! Chirp!

DANUTA realigns bowl, Stonehenge, shadow, June, first Thursday, 1969. TABS consents reluctantly to eat.

Enter ONE-EYED BANDIT, probably wearing cat flap round his middle.

ONE-EYED BANDIT: MAOWRR. Heads towards cat dishes as Imaginary Cats flee tripping up DANUTA who now has her cup of tea.

DANUTA: Delete!.

(DANUTA drops cup. Tea, bits of cup and what remains of DANUTA’s equilibrium head for four corners of the universe.) EXEUNT CATS.

DANUTA: DELETE DELETED DELETING DELETE! (Sits at table and bangs forehead on surface.)

Enter BARTHOLOMEW who makes his way to the dishes and cleans them out. Exits.

Enter TABS. Inspects empty dishes.

TABS: Chirp?

If Jehovah has kept Janet safe in his memory, then she will live again when the time comes to wake the dead from their dreamless sleep and I hope she will be so happy to know how well her last two cats settled down in their new home and their new rambling garden. We know she was very worried about how things would turn out for them.

Botanical Road

 

I walked up Botanical Road

Gold leaves against the blue

I said, out loud to my surprise

"Thank you God, Thank You".

I wrote that poem many years ago - 40 years ago in fact.  It marks a moment in Sheffield, on a late September afternoon, when the creation finally told me of its Creator, as clearly as if it had spoken. And I began to search for Him, in order to say thanks - thanks for making us such a heartbreakingly lovely planet.

It took me nearly two years, but I did not give up, and Jehovah, very very kindly, let me find Him.  And it transformed my life.  How I would have got through the distresses of old age without the support of the truth I do not know.

And when I began my Bible Study with the Jehovah's Witnesses, I came across these words, for the first time:

"The heavens are declaring the glory of God; the skies above proclaim the work of his hands." - Psalm 19:1

Yes.  I knew those words to be the truth as that is what the sky had told me.  And it had been such a powerful moment that I had said "Thank you God", out loud, and then hastily looked round to see if there was anyone on the road looking askance at a middle-aged lady who was apparently talking to herself.

There was no-one.  And now, speaking from the depth of old age, I wish I had known how young I was then.

In the wake of my unusually prolonged arthritis flare-up of the previous week I have been left exhausted, feeling as if I have had a bad bout of flu and with a terrible cold sore (I think its that) - something I have not had since I was a child.

Well, they do call it a second childhood...  and poor Captain B has gone up to the 24 hour Pharmacy to see if he can get me anything for it.  It is quite painful and did keep me awake a bit - though there are plenty of other aches and pains to do the job too.

The outcome of that visit is that we spent the rest of the day at the Drop In Health Centre, waiting and waiting and waiting, and I am now on a course of antibiotics.  Oh for perfect health, under the loving and perfect rule of the Kingdom of God.

ASLAN

Apparently Hollywood - well I assume it could only be Hollywood - is making a new version of The Chronicles of Narnia, and is casting Meryl Streep as Aslan the Lion - the godfigure in C.S.Lewis' theology.  Well, she is going to voice him.

Aslan the Lioness?    The photo above is one Col took on one of his trips to South Africa. The lion looks rather splendid,and I confidently feel that, if it did speak, it would sound nothing at all like Meryl Streep.

Should Christians be upset about this?  I assume the point is to upset them, but why let it?  As a Christian all I ask of Hollywood is that I be allowed not to watch its product.  And I hope and pray to continue to be able to tell all who will listen about the Kingdom of God, the heavenly government - what it is doing already and what it will do.

But also why is the Narnia series considered to be Christian?   I loved reading them all as a child - C.S.Lewis really takes you into that World Within the Wardrobe, but the theology is strongly Trinitarian, and the Trinity is not a Christian teaching. In fact it contradicts what Jesus himself said about his relationship to his Father.

We are having such a lovely Autumn here in the UK. Heartbreakingly lovely. 

The Captain and I are both on new meds - and he is back on the daily Blood Pressure routine.  That may be why the loveliness of Autumn seems especially heartbreaking this year.

The Red Arrows (and me) - and a Flare -up, also me

On Thursday the little educational bit in Bargain Hunt was about the Red Arrows, interviewing one of the pilots.  They do these spectacular flying displays at speeds of  - if I heard this right! - 600 miles an hour, flying only feet apart in the most extraordinary configurations.  Without bumping into each other, or falling out of the sky. Amazing people, truly.

The above is a photo Col took some years ago when they were doing a display locally.

So, a thought, just in case under some new Equal Opportunities Law, I am hired to become a Red Arrow pilot, and you actually see me zimmering towards the cockpit, full of reckless over-confidence brought on by years of various media telling me that us wimmin can do anything, please stop me before I make it to the cockpit!  It won't be difficult, Just turn off the Stairlift they will have to have had installed to get me up there.

Don't let me leave the ground, or the whole elite squadron would be wiped out in an instant as I tried to remember which was the clutch and which was the brake.

As far as the Red Arrows go, I am definitely the wrong stuff.  But I very much admire those who are the right stuff.

What will there be in the way of air transport when the whole earth is paradise?  We will not need any warplanes for starters, as we will study war no more. The whole earth will be at peace, real peace.  And we won't be in a hurry to get anywhere. There will be all the time in the world.  But we might of course fly.  In my travelling days I used to think what a privilege it is to be above the clouds - or among the clouds.  To see countries and coastlines miles below,

So who knows?  The main thing is to search for our Creator, Jehovah, now, while he is to be found and to be there and find out.

Have you ever had one of those flying dreams?   Now I don't suppose we will ever be able to fly in that sense, like a load of Peter Pans, but once again, why not be there in the restored earthly paradise to find out.

By the way, what a sad story Peter Pan is.  Peter flies out of his nursery window every night, has his adventures, then returns to his nursery.  But, one day, he flies back to find the window closed and locked and his mother sitting on the bed nursing a new baby. She won't look up at his taps on the window, or let him in. 

And so he becomes one of the lost boys, and needs Wendy to mother him.

I had a sad - well it wasn't sad exactly - dream last night. We were back in Saudi again - Col had got us re-hired and I was trying to negotiate the vast supermarket/food hall system that, in my dream, had replaced our dining hall.  I was wandering round with my tray realising that, even if I worked it out, I didn't have riyals so couldn't buy anything.  Then I woke up and found Col was already up and making breakfast.

What I should have done in the dream was enjoyed the feeling of being able to wander about a supermarket with no pain - that is probably my current equivalent of the flying dream.

I have had a terrible, painful, debilitating flare up - everything hurting so much, and have been left with a new pain in my left leg.  But I guess this is what approaching 80 years old with a chronic condition is.

The Circuit Overseer Visit - and Sheal pots

I hope to extract a few gems from the Circuit Overseer's visit and blog them as an aide memoire.  My memoire needs all the aide it can get these days!  

Col kindly chauffered me to the Hall Thursday night as there was a meeting for Auxiliary Pioneers, and yet again I am wondering if it will be the last one I ever have the chance to attend.  Aarrgghh...

Time will tell. But the arthritis attack I have been suffering this week - if that is what it is - has left me feeling as if I can't breath.  Obviously I can, or I would not be typing this, but...  And I am now seriously sleep deprived.   Anyway, it was so good for me to get out for that hour, getting some upbuilding and practical teaching and being able to make a small contribution (1 comment).  I also managed to give all my Not Home letters to one of the families and to let my School partner know that I would be in Sheffield when we have our part next week, but will be happy to do it in Zoom if she has a problem finding someone else.

One practical point I hope to take from the C.O. visit is this - to get to know the first three chapters of the brochure Enjoy Life Forever really well.  We are all trying to do as Jesus commanded us, to make disciples.  The Gospel of Matthew ends this way:

"Jesus approached and spoke to them, saying: “All authority has been given me in heaven and on the earth. Go, therefore, and make disciples of people of all the nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the holy spirit, teaching them to observe all the things I have commanded you. And look! I am with you all the days until the conclusion of the system of things.”

And this brochure is designed to help us to do that - to help people to study the Bible and find out what it actually says.  So that will be a plan, and one I can do at home, while sitting down.

It was raining on Friday morning - lovely lovely rain - though not I  must admit so good for all the brothers and sister who were hoping to get out on the doors.  I managed to join them by Zoom, and it did clear up.  I got a few witnessing letters done, and got our meals - lentil/veggie soup for lunch, fruit and yoghurt - quiche and salad for supper, followed by a small choc ice.

Other than that I have done so little.  Everything exhausts me.  The poor Captain got the washing done and got the dishwasher unloaded.  I don't know if I can do any better today as just getting up and getting dressed has left me breathless.  

He collected up and took a photo of all the Ann Marie Sheal pottery that we have round the house and still use. I wish so much she was here to share my books with me.  I only ever sent her one of my short stories - not one that has been published - and she said it made her laugh out loud. What author could ask for more?