A Happy Evening...

... with Dorothy of the South, Jackie and a Thai takeaway. And some cold white wine. I did actually sleep for most of the night afterwards.

An exhausting morning at the hospital. Dorothy and I walked - she walked, I tottered - down miles and miles of corridors, till we finally found the lab - and also found Captain B leaning on the door of the lab looking at his watch - he had parked the car and come the short way round.   Got seen quickly but then had to wait as the injection site poured blood when she had to bandage it.

"Are you on warfarin?!" she asked alarmed.  "Not yet" , I said glumly.  I had to wait a while with my arm in the air till it could be staunched.

Perhaps this is what stress is doing to me.

Dorothy leaves this morning, having given wonderful help, advice and company.

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Operation Dreams

Not only do I wake up in the small hours and lie awake worrying about my operation - and whether it has been postponed or not - but its now getting into my dreams.  

I dreamt last night that I was in my bedroom in Saudi - or at any rate it wasn't my bedroom here. Captain B was there and some friends and our Saudi neighbour. They were all telling me to stop worrying and to get back to sleep. But we couldn't work out how to get the dark on the outside back into the room.

Then I had one of those Eureka! moments.   It was rather like when that apple fell on Einstein's head, stunning him and causing him to come up with his theory of relativity.  ("If only that apple had fallen on one of my relatives instead, I wouldn't have this headache".)    I realised that if I turned off my bedside light, I would bring the dark back into the room. And the rest was darkness.

It has been a hot start to Autumn. Very hot yesterday.  Dorothy O'South Island arrives today, and Jackie is joining us tomorrow for a Thai takeaway.

The meeting at the Kingdom Hall on Sunday calmed me down so much.  Jehovah is rightly called "the God of all comfort".  Mick gave the talk, about continuing to look forward to the restored earthly Paradise. Various people have rung, including Bea, to ask about the situation re the op but I still have no idea when it is to be.

And yet I tell myself what a spoilt first-world worry this is to have.  And how amazing to be living in a window of time when I have this to worry about.  Not only do we have the technology, but we also, for the moment, have the NHS.

But then that gives me an extra worry... suppose the NHS implodes between ops... I will end up very lopsided. One bionic knee, one bad knee, getting worse...  what dreams will come tonight?!

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A Night of Alarms

We had supper with Jackie, which cheered me up no end. She gave us chicken alexander, chocolate mousse, and fizzy wine. Just what the doctor ordered, because I had spent all day trying to find out when my operation date is.  Half the hospital says it is the original date, the other half says it has been postponed for a month AND WILL I STOP BOTHERING THEM.  But how can I find out the new date? I ventured timidly. Apparently I need to contact another hospital altogether AND DON'T I REALISE THAT?!  The Other hospital seemed surprised and puzzled, and will, hopefully, ring me back on Monday, if they are brave enough to ring Hospital No.1 and find out what is going on. I really needed to know by tomorrow as my next injection is due then, and the date of my operation hangs on when I last take it.  It must not be too early, not be too late.

I have lost all confidence now and am on the verge of cancelling the whole thing, and settling for being housebound.  We have a flat with a view and I am a homebody anyway.  Why take the risk?

After all that, and feeling a bit more cheerful after an evening with Jacks, I was just drifting off into a merciful sleep, when BANG! there was a terrible crash right by my head.  "What?!"  I panicked back to consciousness.  "I had to kill that fly" said Captain B, fly swat in hand.

Poor old bluebottle. I think it had settled down for the night. I certainly had.   I began to drift off again.  RING RING RING - Col's call out alarm went off.   He struggled out of bed, and I struggled with some very unChristian thoughts about his volunteer rescue work.  I was vaguely formulating the thought of his needing sandwiches and a flask of tea, when RING RING RING - emergency over, misper (missing person to you civilians) found.  All OK.

I tried to drift back off to sleep. It took a long time.

We have woken up to a sunny morning, but with quite a lot of cloud.  The last day of summer.

How many more summers for us?

Well, I am hoping we will have "unnumbered summers" in the restored earthly Paradise.

We have tea with our new neighbours this afternoon, and more visitors tomorrow.

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Let Them Eat Mangetout!

Jamie Oliver has caused a lot of controversy with his remarks about the way people on benefits manage their food budgets, including a rather unfortunate remark about mangetout being cheaper when bought from your local market.

An obvious problem, leaving aside the mangetout, is that not everyone has a local market within walking distance these days.

Food Poverty seems to be the new black. The Beeb (I think it was the BBC) had a programme on recently where celebrity chefs helped low-income families to cook nutritiously and cheaply.  And it was clearly needed - one pensioner was living on cuppa soups.  Of course, you could also say that a larger state pension would help...  but as that is not on offer, any help has to be good.

And some of the advice was good. But some was dubious; for example, we were reminded how important it is to shop round the various supermarkets.  But I'm not sure how you can do that on a low income, with no car.  And small children. You, presumably, have to shop at whatever is within walking distance.

However, Jamie has a new series coming up - and its all good publicity.  And I am always receptive to ideas for how to eat well on less.  I had a chicken curry from the chill cabinet of a local supermarket a couple of weeks ago, and also made one from scratch for us.  The curry I made was far from brilliant but it was a lot better, and cheaper, than the chill cabinet one. Plus the oil I used was olive oil.  

I think that is the point Jamie is trying to make. And good for him.  I think he will be able to make it effectively.  He is good at showing that cooking can be fun.

Its a lovely sunny morning by the English Channel.  Philip and Seppi arrived last night, having had a great holiday in the West country.

I am still waiting to find out what the new date for my postponed operation will be.

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Sasha

SASHA IN ARABY

 by me

Sasha slides crossly past the sprinklers

On the lawn

What business does his Person have

Turning them on?

This garden is one large sand tray

And Sash could really feel at home

If Mara wouldn’t mess it up with grass

And soggy, peaty loam.

Sand and sun and birds to catch

A Person of his own

Araby would be Paradise

If no for that darned sprinkler on the lawn.

Another cat from the past.  From our early days in Araby, when we spent a lot of time at Mara's - and with her beautiful fluffy Siamese.

Its a sunny morning here - with a calm blue Channel outside.  The Bavarian branch return for a couple of nights on their way back to Germany  - and we are having another Thai takeaway.  Col chauffered me to the meeting on Sunday morning - wonderful talk, given by a local brother.

How much we - the human race, the children of Adam - need the incoming Kingdom of God - the heavenly government that will make "all things new".

I can't think what I did yesterday, beyond my studying on the balcony. We - the worldwide congregations - are still in our detailed study of Jeremiah, trying to learn from his faithful example.  And I did loads of washing so it would all get dry and out of the way before the visitors arrive.

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Householdering on a walking stick

My stint as Rosemary's householder reminded me of my schooldays in an odd way.  I had to hobble, with walking stick and Rosemary's arm, to the small school, and I held up both schools while they had to wait for me.  Then the kind Ghanaian brother who conducts the second school let us go straight to our seats in the front so we didn't have to get up and down again.  Which really helped. I had been worried about that.

My last appearance in the Ministry School - I hope not ever! - but certainly until after my operations.

Anyway, during my second year at big school, our House needed a swimmer - was it Compiegne (spelling?), Picardy, or The Other One - I can't now remember and can't imagine what the point of the House system was - trying to bring some sort of ersatz public school spirit into our Convent High School? - anyway, Sports Day - horrors of horrors - or any rate a Swimming Gala at our local baths.   And - tragedy for Compiegne, Picardy or The Other One, their champion swimmer, the only girl in the House in my year who could dive and swim was off sick. And I was press-ganged into my House (whichever one it was, I'm not sure I even knew at the time) swimming team, to swim for the honour of Whichever House It Was.

Why?  I suppose it was because I was the only other girl who could stay afloat in the deep end.

So we all lined up.  They dove in like speedy arrows.  I jumped.  And then I started my laborious breaststroke.   Slowly slowly I trundled down the first lane, and even more slowly back up the second.  The audience got out its sandwiches and had its lunch while it waited for me.  I did get a cheer at the end, but I think it was a cheer of relief, as finally the next race could begin and they would be that bit nearer to going home.

They call old age "a second childhood" and so its proving to be.

Yesterday was my second pre-op appointment at the hospital. Terrifying.

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The Great British Bake-off is Back

Hurray!  I love it.  My Tuesday nights are sorted for the foreseeable future.  Mary Berry, Paul Hollywood, the contestants, the cakes.  Who could ask for more?

One contestant made a Gaudi Cathedral out of chocolate cake on Tuesday night.

More hospital tomorrow in this continuing run up to THE OPERATION.

And we have heard from Roger who will be in the UK about that time.  Hopefully we will be able to see him, but it will depend how it all goes of course.  Talked to Audrey on the phone a couple of times, and got a lovely card from Seahouses from Penny and George.  I hope that by this time next year I might be able to be doing a bit of travelling in the North myself.

And as the Cakeathon is still on, I managed a couple of batches of marmalade cupcakes to take to the Hall. The brothers and sisters working on the new Kingdom Hall build like homemade cakes in their tea breaks, and its lovely to be able to contribute something.  Jane is up there cooking for them in the field kitchen.

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The Rapture

Rosemary came round yesterday and we practised her talk for Thursday. I am her householder, and am going to be someone who has been told about the Rapture by a friend, and is confused. Which is no wonder really.  I now need to see if I can net Captain Butterfly before he flutters off and practise my talk on him.

Insofar as I understand it, the Rapture is a doctrine originating with the Pentecostal church in America.  It teaches that God will remove the faithful from the earth - sort of snatch them up to heaven - just before the great tribulation - and return them afterwards.  Although I think there are different versions and timelines.

Rosemary's assigned material includes Proverbs 2:21,22 which says, simply and clearly: " For the upright are the ones that will reside in the earth, and the blameless are the ones that will be left over in it.  As regards the wicked, they will be cut off from the very earth; and as for the treacherous, they will be torn away from it."

So the upright remain on the earth.  It is the wicked who are removed from it when they are destroyed at Armageddon. And Jehovah does not want to have to destroy anyone. Hence the worldwide warning work as followers of Christ preach from door to door.

Which I hope I will be able to do again sometime next year if my operations go well.  In the meantime I am keeping my magazine route going by post, with card and letter.  One of my route calls rang me yesterday to ask how I was, and we had a nice chat. I was out on the balcony at the time.

A sunny day today. The Channel is pale, calm and a bit heat hazy.   And the dishwasher has broken!   Aaargh.  We will have to hitch up the horses to the dishcloths and try to remember how we used to wash dishes in the olden days.

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Consoling chocolates

Philip and Seppi bought us some home made jam and a box of chocolates. I meant us to have the chocolates with our coffee after our Thai meal, but I forgot about them.

However, it worked out well as a friend who is going through some severe emotional turmoil came round on Saturday night, and so we got out the wine and opened up the chocolates - for medicinal purposes.

The British team has just been disqualified from the 4 by 100 relay.  We thought they had the bronze, but they had got one of their baton changes wrong.  Captain Butterfly worried that they would before they even started and sadly he was right.

I chauffered myself to the Kingdom Hall this morning, while the Captain detected metal with the club.   It was raining a bit, but is sunny now.  The Channel is sparkling away outside the window.

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The Bavarian Branch

The Bavarian Branch of the family arrive this morning for a short stay. We haven't seen them for some time, and are looking forward to it.  Jacks is coming round tonight to join us in a Thai takeaway.

Two hours of Bible study last night at the Kingdom Hall were the usual lovely antidote to all the horrors going on in the world, and I am wondering how long after my operation before I will be able to get back to meetings.  All our meetings are teaching meetings.  They will link me in by phone line though, so I won't be missing any teaching. I am wondering if I will be able to listen in when I am in hospital - I think you have a kind of private phone arrangement by the beds - but religion is a very touchy subject, so I think I will content myself with taking in my Bible and Watchtower and quietly doing the study article and hoping and praying that I will be back home for the Thursday meeting.

The balcony mint is getting very tall and is flowering. There is a real feeling of the coming Autumn in the air today.  No problem with that.  I love Autumn, and I love the way in which the summer winds down so beautifully into it, but its realising how short the seasons are - how quickly they fly past.  And wondering how many more I have left.

Though I am hoping for unnumbered Autumns in the restored earthly Paradise, so if there is an Autumnal feeling in the air, its a lovely feeling, and full of hope.

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A Masterclass in Thai Cooking

Linda came round to cook a Thai dinner for us last night. She arrived laden down with supplies and made us a Green Chicken Curry with lots of fresh vegs, with a tropical fruit and lime salad for afters.  She even provided prawncrackery things for a starter.  We provided the wine, and I helped in a minor capacity in the kitchen.

It was excellent - a real Thai taste, without being hot - and I had the remains for my lunch today.  Captain Butterfly is out in the wilderness of the Downlands somewhere with his sandwiches and marmalade muffin. We have chatted on the phone but mid-sentence there was a cry of "There she blows!!" and off he went, camera at the ready.

It has been a paperwork morning- toiling over the latest batch of Butterfly Memberships.  All are now ready to go to the Post Office, and if I can get the second half of my magazine route done then they can all go together tomorrow, and it will only be one trip to the Post Office for the Captain.

Two British girls have been caught at the airport in Peru, allegedly leaving with heroin in their luggage.  I have two harrowing memoirs in my bookshelf, one by Sandra Gregory ("Forget you had a daughter") and the other by Rita Nightingale ("Freed for Life").  Both served time in Bangkok for drug offences.  And how I wish these two young girls had read those harrowing accounts before they went to Peru. Would it have made them stop and think?

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Grateful not to be a Centipede

Friday was a day of medical terrors - all pre-op stuff.  All to be gone over again for the second knee op - assuming I survive the first one.  Which is why I am very grateful I am not a centipede - or I would be going through this one hundred times.

Yesterday was recovery, with a bit of study and some housework. A load of the books I have ordered arrived and were whisked away and hidden by a stern Captain Butterfly before I could read them all. They are supposed to be for my hospital stay and subsequent convalescence.

Being a great armchair climber, I have ordered some more climbing books, including that classic "The White Spider" which is going to be really harrowing.

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Not a sparrow falls

BASIL AT BEDTIME

 by me

Basil lies across me

Furry, warm

I lie awake and worry 

He is calm

I twist and turn

He sleeps and purrs

And sometimes dreams

Of fancy mice

And frantic birds.


We had to re-home our three cats Cindy, Basil and Custer when we became expats. And it is still very painful to think about that.  They must have died many years ago.  

My consolation - my only consolation - is that the Inspired Scriptures assure us that not a sparrow falls without Jehovah's knowing it.  He knew Cindy, Basil and Custer, and loved them even more than we did.

And  He loved Whites, our fierce Saudi cat too.  He was a battered old stray we took in for the last years of his life. We buried him our garden with a few tropical flower petals, so that if anyone found him they would know that he was loved.

A very quiet day yesterday.  Col left early for his fund raising day, followed by a BBQ in the evening. And I did disgracefully little - some studying, a letter and some emails answered, a bit of routine housework, and a lot of re-reading of my Agatha Christie's.  Just finished "Sleeping Murder", just starting on "Crooked House".

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A Clouded Yellow Sky

Just got a phone call from Captain Butterfly - he is once again in the thick of it, having found a Clouded Yellow to photograph.  Apparently they sometimes used to be seen in clouds coming across the Channel.  I am looking out for them now, but all I can see is a calm blue Channel with a lot of shipping on the far horizon.

If I were to write up the script for yesterday it would not make a blockbusting Hollywood movie.   Although me and the kitchen did look a like a scene from one after I had finished stoning the cherries to make the crumble.  We - the kitchen and I - were both covered in red juice.  "Why didn't you put an apron on?!" asked Captain B.  Not surprisingly really, as I must have looked like a survivor from The Texas Cherrystone Massacre.

He was back early on account of their being a violent rainstorm, so we had lunch together.   And I made us a chicken curry from the leftover chicken.  Much more successful than last time, as I used a basic curry recipe given me by an Indian friend many years ago.

Izzy - my internet friend - and I are continuing our discussion by blog and PM. He has some some very interesting questions.

The hospital rang to say they were changing the date of my pre-op tests and thingummies to this week! Apparently on account of my medicine.  They have realised I will need to stop taking it fairly soon, if I am to have the op.

I feel too old and frail to be in hospital.  You need to be young and sturdy to stand up to it all... (whinge, whinge).

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The Jigsaw

Was woken in the early hours by my ankle - hobbled about getting medication - wondered about getting to the Meeting at the Kingdom Hall - especially as I have no chauffeur today and will have to drive myself.

Captain B was off early with his Metal Detector head on.  "Find me a Viking hoard", I trilled as I waved him out the door.  It hasn't happened yet - but there is no shortage of ring pulls in this house.

Anyway, I wanted to be at the Meeting so I went. And am so glad I did.  The teaching gets better and better, and it was lovely to hear Rita in her answer say that as she began to study the Bible with the Witnesses it was as if a jumbled jigsaw inside her head began to click together, as she began to understand what the Bible says.

That was exactly what I said - over 25 years ago.  Exactly the same jigsaw image.  It was as if a lot of jigsaw pieces in my head began to click together - almost frighteningly fast sometimes.  And I began to see the truth at last.

Another sister at a Convention said it was like seeing a very faded old photograph suddenly start to come into focus and reveal itself.

This - the power of Jehovah's spirit-inspired word - is what welds us JWs, all such disparate people, from every tribe and nation and tongue - together.

The Captain and I are at our computers - he detected no hoards, but did find treasure in the shape of some rather lovely butterfly photos which will appear in The Captain's Log in time.

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The Light on the Channel

There is such a lovely light on the Channel this morning - I wish I could paint it for you.  The sea is turquoise and blue and blue grey, with shining white horses springing up all over it, and the balcony geraniums are dancing in the wind.

It is painted and created by the Grand Creator Himself, Jehovah of armies, the God of Abraham.  He made it all so lovely - just for us.

It was a very quiet day for me yesterday, though not for Captain Butterfly who was out chasing the wild Clouded Yellow herds, braving the thundering antenna to get some wonderful photos - as you will see if you click on The Captain's Log.   I roasted a freshly shot Clouded Yellow for our tea... no, wait a minute, I didn't.  It was veggie stew plus baked apple and custard.

And I forgot to put the sugar in the custard.  How many times in my life have I made custard?  Its always worrying when you get to my age and start forgetting things...

Tomorrow, the congregations worldwide will be considering "Safeguard Your Inheritance by Making Wise Choices".   And I did my studying for that out on the balcony.

It has nothing to do with tax issues and the recession let me quickly add. The questions being considered are:
How would you define our spiritual inheritance?
What warning lessons can we learn from the actions of Esau?
How can we safeguard our inheritance?

If you want to know, please drop in to the meeting at your local Kingdom Hall tomorrow.

Last night we watched the repeat of the final episode of the latest version of Sherlock Holmes. Wonderfully cast, with Benedict Cumberbatch as Holmes.  And still very moving as Watson(Martin Freeman)  turns and walks away from Sherlock's grave in the churchyard.

The point being of course that Sherlock will soon return.  Not alas, Moriarty (brilliantly played by Andrew Scott).  At least I assume not, under the circumstances.

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Thunderstorms on the South Coast.

A thunderstormy breakfast. I have just moved the cushions indoors from the veranda.  The balcony geraniums and the mint are starting to blow about, and there is a lovely soft light on everything.  The Channel is starting to ripple, but no waves as yet.

So its already August and we are tumbling towards Autumn.  My favourite season.  But this year it marks the start of my knee operations.   We had a visitor at the Kingdom Hall last night - he is studying with us I believe.  He had his knee ops two and a half years ago, and was in a wheelchair and still in pain... aarrgh...

I was relieved to come back and find an email from Don, an internet friend, telling me how successful his knee operation had been.  

Oh well, I don't seem to have any option - child of Adam that I am.

A lovely meeting, of course. We are still in our study of the valiant Hebrew prophet Jeremiah. We also discussed the experiences of Witnesses in Myanmar - who like Jeremiah have endured valiantly in the preaching work.

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A lovely surprise

A lovely surprise in my mailbox this morning - some beautiful comments on my blog from a gentleman called Izzy who I had written to some time ago, via the net.  I hope so much he will keep in touch.

A cool cloudy day. The Green seems quiet without our visitors. Not that they were particularly noisy but they bought a whole world with them that suddenly vanished.

Can't say I have done much today. My foot is still very swollen but not as painful.  Audrey rang, we had a chat.  And Maggie rang to say she won't be at the meeting tonight. She always gets there early and saves a seat for me. Captain B was around for lunch today, I used up the rest of the tomatoes and made a tomato and chickpea casserole, which turned out quite well.  And Linda says she will come round and cook a Thai meal for us, which I hope she will, as she is an excellent cook.

I am re-reading Agatha Christie's "The ABC Murders". This time, I can remember who did it and how and why, but its still fun getting there and watching Hercule Poirot surprise everyone at the end.   Very ingenious.

I feel I ought to manage some great thoughts on the political issues of the day, but my brain cells aren't up to it - neither of them.  But every day that goes by reinforces my belief in the Bible's warning that the whole world is lying in the power of "the wicked one".  When I was first shown that  at 1 John 5:19, which says: “The whole world is lying in the power of the wicked one.”, I did think that if that was true, it would explain so much.

And I feel that more and more strongly all the time.

But, on a much happier, note, it won't be for much longer.  A perfect rescue is at hand.

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Farewell, or Au Revoir?

Our travellers have gone.  The Green seems very empty suddenly.  The Men from the Council turned up yesterday with what I assume must have been eviction notices and, as quietly as they came, they left.

I wonder if they will come next year.  And if so, I wonder if I will be able to go down and say hello. If they do, I will if I can.

We had quite a lot of rain yesterday which we badly need.

Captain Butterfly was at home all day, working on his photograph library.  I made a veggie curry out of the potatoes and carrots that needed using up, and he shopped for some new supplies.

On the last day of July, I am thinking again of how long school summer holidays were.Wonderfully long for us children - perhaps just long for our parents.  They seemed to last forever, until that terrible day when Autumn and new term started.  I always love Autumn though, and never let the prospects of school spoil my love of it.

I suppose school holidays are harder on parents now, as kids can no longer spend all day playing outside, and so many mothers have to work full time, or are single parents.

Our Watchtower study article last week was about parents and children, and I was thinking yet again how wise Jehovah's ways are. When the Israelites were his people, and lived under his perfect law, children were taught by and with the extended family. They were not jammed together in schools in large groups of their peers.

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Driving Miss Susan

To the meeting on Sunday morning, with my faithful chauffeur, who picked me up after the meeting and drove us to the shops - otherwise there would have been no food for our friends last night.

Both Public Talk and Watchtower study article contained what  I needed to hear - food (spiritual) at the right time.  And Ron came over to tell me that he, Jane and two others had gone down to our Gypsy Encampment, and had a lot of good talks and placed a lot of literature!

Then I got together an easy supper.  Lidl's smoked salmon on oatcakes,  Lasagne from Cooks plus a big salad with a classic dressing. Then my usual summer pudding - Eton mess, but made with Greek yoghourt.

And Captain B made us all coffee, with chocolate biscuits after.

An enjoyable  evening, and I hope it helped the friend who is going through a lot of emotional turmoil at the moment.

I have just re-read Barbara Pym's "Jane and Prudence".  It is so funny.

I am having a violent arthritis attack in my foot at the moment and have been zimmering slowly slowly round the flat. I hate having to use the zimmer frame but, now and again, there is no alternative.

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The Mini-Cakeathon begins - and Stevie Smith

Got two batches of marmalade muffins made on Thursday - plus a visit to the Dentist - 6-monthly check-up - and the meeting in the evening.  That was a hectic day for me and my knees, and I am still suffering for it (whine, whine). Captain Butterfly - in his Rescue Persona - left very early this morning for his second day as a steward at Goodwood.

"You can't leave me", I sobbed.  "Suppose I get stolen by the gypsies on the Green?!"

He muttered something about my being perfectly safe unless they had a heavy duty crane on site - and off he flew, packed lunch in tow.

We had such a lovely meeting on Thursday.  And I told the elders about the encampment and they are going to try and get someone down there to knock on the caravan doors and have a talk.  I am quite enjoying having the travelling families there - I was watching all the little children and puppies playing on the Green yesterday - they were having a wonderful time, they have drawn their caravans right up beside the playground - paradise for children, and I am wondering where they are going to go next when they are moved on from here.

I am still re-reading my poetry shelf and have got as far as Stevie Smith, the selected poems of.

Here are some tasters:

"In his fur the animal rode, and in his fur he strove
And oh it filled my heart my heart, it filled my heart with love."

Yes.

And this on the death of a German philosopher:

"He wrote The I and the It
 He wrote The It and the Me
 He died at Marienbad
 And now we are all at sea."

It reminds me a little of the proposed philosophers strike in "The Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy".  "And who will THAT inconvenience?"

A quiet day stretches before me, I hope.  And I hope to achieve studying, replying to an interesting email from a friend in Oz, and dusting and polishing...  and a lot of lying down, reading poems, and whingeing to myself about my knees.

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Walter de la Mare - and The Travellers

I have been browsing through  "Poem for the Day, One" edited by Wendy Cope.  Pen bought it for me, and it is a treasure of a collection. I keep finding new things along with old favourites.

And I just found this.  A quote from Walter de la Mare, as he was approaching the end of his life:     "My days are getting shorter, but there is  more and more magic.  More than in all poetry.  Everything is increasingly wonderful and beautiful."

Yes, everything is increasingly wonderful and beautiful.

Yesterday travellers arrived on our Green and there is now a caravan encampment below our window. Very very frustrating for me as I would love to be able to go down there with my Bible and some publications and knock on some caravan doors. But I just can't. It takes me all my time to walk round the flat now.

The Police have already been and apparently the legalities to move them on are under way.  And I accept that we can't have people living on the Green. But, so far, they are proving quiet and considerate neighbours.

Today I made an unsuccessful, but edible, chicken curry - a new recipe I won't be trying again. Finished the butterfly paperwork, talked to an American friend via internet, did some studying and some washing.  Tomorrow is the Dentist (urgh) and cake-making.

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The Cake Clarion

Once again the cry for cakes has gone up - at the Kingdom Hall - on Thursday.  The first batch will be accepted at the meeting next Thursday night.  And I hope that I will have a sackload of marmalade muffins done by then.  (Or, given the price of foundation material these days, a cement lorry load full.)

Our brothers and sisters down the Coast are now building a new Kingdom Hall.  And it is wonderful that Jehovah can arrange for everyone to have a share and to feel useful.  I would be nothing more than a trip-hazard on a building site - but I can still help out via cakes for the tea breaks.

My knees are getting worse than ever. And I hope I will be able to stagger onto the platform next month to be Rosemary's householder.  I think we will be doing the "Do you believe in The Rapture?" talk.

If so, it will be an interesting one.  It is a religious teaching that completely reverses Bible teaching - as so much religious teaching does.

The Rapture says, basically, that there will come a time when the good are "raptured" off the face of the earth, leaving the wicked remaining on it to suffer untold horrors.

Whereas the Bible says, simply and clearly:   "For the upright are the ones that will reside in the earth, and the blameless are the ones that will be left over in it.  As regards the wicked, they will be cut off from the very earth; and as for the treacherous, they will be torn away from it." - Proverbs 2:21,22

The meek will inherit the earth, as Jesus famously promised. They will not be removed from it.  But the wicked will. Isn't that what will happen at Armageddon?

A quiet day yesterday.  Captain Butterfly and his sandwiches disappeared mid-morning and had a good day out.  The photos will appear in The Captain's Log in due time.  I had a long talk to Bea on Skype, and to Audrey on the phone.  I did my studying.  They are really encouraging us to get out and do public witnessing, in some cases with portable book and magazine stalls. It is so hard to find people at home these days.   It scares me a bit - the witnessing door to door is not easy either, it scares me too - but I do hope that if my operations work, I will be able to get back out there.

And I made a veggie curry with some veggies that needed using up, and baked the cooking apples. So Captain B came back to a home-made supper.   The curry wasn't bad, but I later watched a Rick Stein programme about home cooks in India and perfect curries and felt that I had hardly got started.

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A Window in Time

I have been sitting down, or rather lying down, with my poetry shelf, half of which has now been banished to the shelves of the second bedroom, swept there by a tide of butterfly textbooks.

I was re-reading "Wulf and Eadwacer" last night.  It is like a window in time momentarily opening, and a hand reaching out and grabbing you, and saying: "Listen".  But what is it wanting to tell us?  Sadness and loss and longing, but exactly what scholars can not agree.

Who is Wulf?   Lover?  Husband?  Child?  Who is Eadwacer?

It is an old English poem, found within the Exeter Book of the 10th Century.

The translation which I was reading, and which I love, begins:

"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 one another.
Mine is a fastness; the fens girdle it
and it is defended by the fiercest men.
If he comes to our camp they will kill him for sure.

         Our fate is forked..."

The Old English text begins:

Leodum is minum swylce him mon lac gife;

willað hy hine aþecgan, gif he on þreat cymeð.

Ungelic is us.

Wulf is on iege, ic on oþerre.

Fæst is þæt eglond, fenne biworpen.

Sindon wælreowe weras þær on ige;

willað hy hine aþecgan, gif he on þreat cymeð.

Ungelice is us.

Maybe, IF I get to be in the restored earthly Paradise, I will meet the writer and find out. There will be no need to retreat to fen-haunted islands then, guarded by the fiercest men.  All the earth will be at peace. We will have our "exquisite delight in the abundance of peace".

Rob and Catherine came down for the day, which was lovely.  We had a Cooks green Thai chicken curry, so all I had to cook was the rice, and we had an Eton Mess for afters, as it's English strawberry season. Obviously it was the Comprehensive rather than the Public School Version, being made with Greek yoghurt instead of cream.   And Captain B made us pots and pots of tea later which we had with cake and biscuits.

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Butterflies Redux and Moth Babies

Brown-tail, Euproctis chrysorrhoea

Here is the Guardian article about yesterday's Great Butterfly Race:  http://www.guardian.co.uk/environment/2013/jul/19/butterflies-obsessives-elusive-purple-emperor

The Wood Whites won!   Though it was an honourable defeat for the Light Brigade - the Glanville Fritillaries - as points were even. Its just that the gallant WWs found two more species.

I liked this from Comments:   Isn't it lovely seeing all these butterflies again?

Last September I was getting all excited at seeing just a couple of Small Heaths, so poor the summer had been. This year I've had my identification skills taxed (and woefully exposed) seeing quite a number of Fritillaries. I have no idea what species they are, but I don't care. What joy!

Yes. Isn't that why Jehovah made butterflies so lovely - to give us joy?   They are like flying flowers.

Moths too. One of our moth babies just hatched. We found him on the lampshade yesterday. I could see his/her lovely white ruff.  He flew out during the night as we had all the windows open, so the difficult hours of his (or her?) adolescence went by in our sleep, which seems rather a good arrangement.

Catherine and Rob are coming for lunch today.

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The Great Butterfly Wars

Green-veined White pupa, Pieris napi
= 2 points!

Today is the day of the Great Butterfly War - the Butterfly count-off between Sussex and Hampshire.

The Wood Whites - our gallant Sussex lads - will take on the massed and ruthless hordes of Hampshire - the Glanville Fritillaries (boo, hiss).   The Wood Whites with Captain B among them, will advance bravely (and gallantly) into the bleak and fear-inspiring Hampshire terrain to count their butterflies; while the Glanville Fritillaries (boo, hiss) will invade the lovely and defenceless land of Sussex, and count our butterflies.


The Charge of the Flight Brigade
by Mrs Captain McButterfly.

Half a leaf, half a leaf,
half a leaf onward
Into the Valley of Hampshire (and that doesn't scan!)
flew the six hundred  (only about a dozen or so WoodWhites, but there is such a thing as poetic license)

Butterflies to the left of them
Butterflies to the right of them...


Well, I hope that is enough jingoism, and I hope the day goes well, with lots of butterflies being counted.  I have been told to follow the unfolding battle on Twitter - and it should make the BBC News. There will be a camera crew there.   And Captain B is riding camera for his team.


We are back to our normal routine at the Kingdom Hall now, so I was at the meeting last night, with the brave Captain chauffering me, even though it was the night before the battle.    And it was lovely to be back. And lovely that we have air con in our new hall, as it was a hot night.

Our last talk was a question and answer session about why and how the young brothers can and should step forward end start to take the lead in helping the congregation and become ministerial servants and elders themselves. One elder said that he was touched to see a young brother helping one of the elderly sisters into the Hall that evening.

And that was me, with kind young Isaac....

But how can I be an "elderly sister"?  Just yesterday I was a young wife.

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Watching DVDs with Captain Butterfly

"What would you like for your 40th Anniversary present?" Captain Butterfly had asked me.

"Well" I said, "What I would really really like is if you would watch "Walk by Faith not by Sight" with me one evening."

Yes, he would.  And last night we watched it together. Which cheered me up no end. I can only hope he enjoyed it.  It is made by The Watchtower Society and was released at the Conventions last year.

It is based on the fulfillment of that extraordinary prophecy about the destruction of Jerusalem.

At Luke 20:2-23, Jesus said:   “Furthermore, when you see Jerusalem surrounded by encamped armies, then know that the desolating of her has drawn near.  Then let those in Ju‧de′a begin fleeing to the mountains, and let those in the midst of her withdraw, and let those in the country places not enter into her; because these are days for meting out justice, that all the things written may be fulfilled. Woe to the pregnant women and the ones suckling a baby in those days! For there will be great necessity upon the land and wrath on this people; and they will fall by the edge of the sword and be led captive into all the nations; and Jerusalem will be trampled on by the nations, until the appointed times of the nations are fulfilled."

Odd because you would suppose that it would be too late to flee once Jerusalem was surrounded by encamped armies.

However, history records how the prophecy was fulfilled. Following a Jewish revolt against Rome in 66 C.E.  the Roman legate of Syria, Cestius Gallus, had assembled the twelfth legion of the Roman army, along with considerable auxiliary forces, to put down the rebellion. Arriving before the walls of Jerusalem during the festival of booths, Roman forces soon penetrated even to the heavily fortified temple walls. With apparent victory close at hand, Gallus suddenly and seemingly without valid reason ordered retreat. Jewish forces went in pursuit. Their attacks forced the retiring Romans to abandon the bulk of their baggage and their heavy siege equipment. Convinced that God had delivered them, rejoicing Jews struck coins bearing inscriptions such as “Jerusalem the Holy.”

However, followers of Christ remembered his prophecy and traditional sources indicate that the Christians forsook Jerusalem and Judea at that time. Ecclesiastical historian Eusebius of the third and fourth centuries C.E. writes: “The whole body, however, of the church at Jerusalem, having been commanded by a divine revelation, given to men of approved piety there before the war, removed from the city, and dwelt at a certain town beyond the Jordan, called Pella.” Epiphanius of the same general period states that ‘the Christians who dwelt in Jerusalem, being forewarned by Christ of the approaching siege, removed to Pella.’

History tells us what happened next, and the point of the DVD is to remind us how vital it is to listen to Jehovah, and to his Messiah, and obey them.

The Book of Daniel, in the 70 weeks prophecy, also warns that Jerusalem and the Temple will be desolated, after the Messiah has been "cut off" in death.

A very hot day today. And a cherry picker has been whirring away outside doing the re-pointing, so we couldn't have the windows open.

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A Weekend in Housebound Retirement

It wasn't totally housebound in that I did totter over to Jacks for supper.  Captain Butterfly was able to park right outside the house.  I have to carry loads of cushions with me now - the Arabian saddlebag cushions we bought years ago are proving very useful - as I need to have a high chair to sit on or my knees won't get me off it.

Jackie gave us salad, chicken dijon with rice, and strawberries with ice-cream.  A perfect summer supper - with champagne too!   We sat in her lovely conservatory for hours, laughing and enjoying the long summer evening.

Linda came over on Friday, and also joined Captain B at Arundel on Saturday to help him with his stall for Butterfly Conservation.  He would have been on his own otherwise -  I am about as much use as a chocolate teapot at the moment.

Audrey and i phoned each other every day for a chat as just about everybody else is at the Convention.

I had a very bad night on Saturday - very painful shoulder - could not sleep - moaned, groaned, got up, made tea, and had to take medicines - spent a couple of hours watching property programmes on the TV - saw some lovely houses on Corfu - pain began to ease - wonderful - thought I was in for another agonising 48 hours - tottered back to bed just as dawn was breaking.

Met Captain B over breakfast a couple of hours later. "Sorry about the disturbed night" I said.  "What disturbed night?  And where are my sandwiches?"  And he flew off, fresh as a daisy, to hunt for the Purple Emperor.

Here is a clue, in case you ever want to look for Purple Emperors too.  If you find something deeply unpleasant festering on a woodland path - something you would never want to step in, especially when wearing sandals - then you may well find a Purple Emperor feasting on that special something. They are not picky eaters.

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A Collapsed Cake

The big event of my day - so far - was that having spent ages slaving away over a carrot cake and swelling my feet up horribly in the process (too much standing), I managed to collapse it into lots of broken bits as I was turning it out of its tin.

So frustrating.  My hands let me down.

Anyway, Captain Butterfly had some bits with the rest of the custard for his tea.  And apparently it tastes alright.  But nul points for presentation.

Linda of Arabia is visiting tonight, and we are having supper with Jacks tomorrow.

The congregation is at Brighton for the 3-day Assembly and it is depressing that I can't be there. Maybe, by this time next year...?

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Lunch with Lilies

White Water Lily, Nymphaea alba

The waterlilies are out at Arundel.  We had lunch there today. I can just totter from the Blue Badge parking space to the restaurant.  We had a rather uninspiring (but cheap) bowl of veggie soup and then I had a mug of foamy coffee while Col went off to photograph what was happening in the Reserve.  See the Captain's Log for details.

He has a lovely sequence of baby swallows demanding, and getting, food.

It was a classic summer day.  Hot. Clear blue sky. Everything so lush and green.  When Col went into the Farm Shop I waited in the car, looking over a field of waving grasses.  I can see now what I couldn't see as a child - when summer lasted forever - that there is already a feeling of the coming Autumn.

He very kindly posted the magazines for me. And we found Bob, one of my route calls who had moved.  Tracked him down to his new flat.  He seemed pleased and asked me in - and I met the dog. Must take doggy treats with me next time. I didn't know there was a dog.

I needed to get them all sent early this month as I enclosed an invitation to the Convention in Brighton this coming weekend.

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Murraymint, the too Good to Hurry Mint

We made our forty year anniversary and celebrated with Jackie, champagne, and a Thai meal. Followed by some excellent vanilla ice-cream and mango sorbet, also from Cooks.  And then we sat out on the balcony in the late evening - the cool of the day.

We have a lovely new speckled orchid for our orchid table.  An anniversary orchid.

And I hope that one day, Captain Butterfly and I will be celebrating our 400th anniversary, right here on the earth.  And our 4,000th.  IF we are  - if we "inherit the earth", as Jesus promised - then we will wonder at our having thought 40 years any time at all.

We already know how quickly it goes.  

"Would you like to spend the next 4,000 years with me, Captain B?"

But I never found out, as he pleaded the Fifth Amendment.

I arrived at the meeting very late yesterday morning, as I could not get the steering lock off the car.  I don't know whether its my arthritic hands or what - I had problems opening the door to the balcony the other day.  But when Captain B tried, both door and steering wheel worked perfectly for him.

Perhaps its all a matter of personality?

Anyway, he kindly came back early from his treasure hunt and rushed me up to the Kingdom Hall.   Which made me feel a lot better.

Then we watched Andy Murray win Wimbledon, in a great match against Novak Djokovic.  Wow, and Triple Wow.  The rallies seemed to go on for ever, and both sides played some impossible shots, and amazing saves.

I have come to admire the way that Andy and Kim Sears, his girlfriend, have refused to tabloidese their life.

Its very sunny this morning, so I hope to be studying on the balcony at some stage.  And, if there is any champagne left, maybe we will have a sundowner.   Captain B just brought me my lovely morning coffee with chocolate sprinkles on the top - and my morning sweetie (Vitamin C tablet).  Purr purr.

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Butterfly Numbers and Unnumbered Daisies

Butterfly numbers yesterday, but in the financial sense, in that I finally got my expense forms (for postage and envelopes) filled in and they are now scanned (by Captain Computer) and ready to go.   I must not leave them so long next time. Then just as I finished that there was a rattle at the letterbox and the next set of butterfly memberships came fluttering through!

I wondered about having a nervous breakdown but was saved by a lovely card from Dan and Gabi that arrived at the same time - a 40th Anniversary card no less.

Also got my studying done.   And some magazines, with letters - one to Ursula thanking her about her advice  for my hospital trip - I have met some lovely people going door to door - and one to Aunt Jo, hoping she is now re-installed in her flat.

It was the men's semi-finals at Wimbledon today. Excellent match between Djokovic and Del Potro - and a strange one between Murray and Janowicz, which was marred by an odd argument between them over whether or not the court should have the roof put up.    It was simpler in the days when there was no roof.  They just played until they could no longer see their opponent.

It has all been a bit too much tennis - though all excellent - the actual final could be an anti-climax after yesterday's matches.  But I rather long to be back at the Kingdom Hall where tennis does not matter in the least.

Captain Butterfly has bought me some more lovely photos back of the world outside.  There are seas of daisies everywhere.  I don't know what they are called. When we were children we called them Moonpenny Daisies.

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A Fence Around the Cuckoo

Yesterday was another of the hospital visits I must have before my op.  It was the long exhausting trek to the Lung Lady's Department.    I found when I got there that she had changed her sex and nationality, and was now a young lad from Eastern Europe.   Or it may of course have been, as he explained, that she was on her holidays. Anyway he was very nice too, and we had a good chat and I noted that he wrote the word "normal" against my test results on the computer, so that sounds reassuring.

We then shopped at Cooks, for our forthcoming 40th Wedding Anniversary celebrations.   Col left me at the door and went off to park the car, and I tottered in, holding onto freezers with one hand, my stick with the other, and trying to taste a Moroccan chicken dish they offered at the same time.

We ended up getting our old favourite - Thai green chicken curry - and some nice ice-cream and sorbet for afters.  So all I will have to do is to cook some plain rice.

Andy Murray gave us an exciting time yesterday, as he lost the first two sets to Fernando Verdasco, before finally winning the match.  I used to be a real fan of Wimbledon, but somehow as so much money came into it, a lot of the joy went out.  However, being so housebound, I am following it this year.  Verdasco is new to me, though obviously not to the circuit.  But what a player!

I have also been re-reading the first part of Ruth Park's autobiography "A Fence Around the Cuckoo".  Some amazing history in there, and how well she writes it.  She was born in NZ and moved to Oz when she married D'Arcy Niland (author of "The Shiralee", and "Call Me When the Cross Turns Over").

She had plenty of hardship and heartbreak in her life, but at the end of her second autobiography ("Fishing in the Styx"), she writes this:   "The only thing you have to offer another human being is your own state of mind. And the state of my mind had been gladness, gladness about the world I was in, and the fact that I was in it."

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Re-reading (and Spoilers)

Walking very bad at the moment - Captain B is having to do the shopping on his own.  Therefore I am doing a lot of re-reading.  I have just re-read Agatha Christie's "Death Comes as the End" - her murder mystery set in ancient Egypt.  Once again, I fell for the double red-herring.  And, if I leave it long enough before I read it again, I expect I will next time.

I have also re-read Mrs Henry Wood's "George Canterbury's Will".   George C, a wealthy (and elderly) widower, marries a very young and beautiful girl. She is really in love with the noble hero, but is persuaded by George C's wealth.  He makes a will disinheriting his daughters, and leaving all his vast estates to the lovely new wife, with most of it in trust for the little son of his new marriage.  Should  the little son die before majority, the vast estates would become all hers

When George C pops his clogs, which happens fairly soon, she believes upright hero will marry her.  But he can't because of the money - he can't be party to the disinheriting of the daughters.  He warned her before the will was signed that it was an unjust will that would bring her no good.

He also warned that it carried with it a great danger that should she re-marry the Wrong Sort of Person, then it might dawn on the new husband that the only person standing in the way of him getting all this money is the small son of his wife's first marriage.   Small son is frail, with blonde curls, and given to talking wistfully about angels (no Just William he).  

After noble hero has turned the beautiful young widow down, a carpetbagger with black moustachios turns up and proposes. She marries him hastily with no marriage settlement. He gets through her fortune like a dose of salts and becomes surrounded by creditors. He thinks longingly of the fortune that will come to him through his wife should the small son cease being around.  Small son talks more and more of angels.  Need I say more?

Oh, except that the noble hero marries one of George Canterbury's daughters, who gets her share of the family fortunes anyway.

I don't know what to say about Mrs Henry really, beyond how strongly the idea of going to heaven when you die is propagated. The Bible says simply that the dead "are conscious of nothing at all", and that the hope for the dead is that Jehovah remembers them and that they will wake from the dreamless sleep of death when the time comes.

And, for most of us, the Bible tells us, that awakening will be right here, on the earth.  As Jesus famously said, the meek will inherit "the earth" - not heaven.

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Pottering

POTTERING

by me

Nancy

Who makes fantasies
In clay
Jars, bells, and chimes
Seems to have a knack
That I lack
All mine
Turn into ashtrays
Useful at least,
I thought
But
(and I'm not joking)
When I bought
my five thousand wobbly ashtrays
home
I found that the Sheik
Had given up smoking.

"Hadn't you noticed", said Captain Butterfly (in Sheik of Araby mode in our expat days), "that I haven't had a cigarette for the last few days?"

I had noticed he had been rather grumpy.

Anyway, the reason this little verse suddenly appears is not so much that I am hoping they will make me Poet Laureate (hint, hint), but that Bea kindly took a photo of some of the pots I made in my expat days. 

She left on Thursday, which made me feel a bit flat.  She had a safe journey, and quick except for getting across London.   Col kindly chauffered me to the meeting in the evening.  It was the monthly review.  Quite a few empty seats as so many are on holiday.

I wonder if I have any chance of the Potter Laureateship?

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Busy Bea

We have a lovely new painting - acrylic - from Bea - as well as my beautiful butterfly robe and a butterfly bag.  And Jackie got her silk scarf last night.

She, and Jill and Tom, came over for supper - cold chicken, salad, hot potatoes and garlic bread. followed by the Comprehensive School version of Eton Mess (i.e. made with yoghurt not cream), cheese and chocolates.  We hope to go out for lunch in Arundel today - to the nature reserve, where we ought to see lots of fluffy little ducklets and moorchicklets and swanlets.

Its a sunny morning, so Captain B may decide to do his transect.

We were talking about Wimbledon last night- and about the fact that you can earn a fortune by being knocked out in the first round.  We all agreed that at our age we would be super at being knocked out in the first round, and really deserved the money.  But it was admitted that I would be best of all - top seed, as it were.

By the time I had zimmered slowly out to take the first serve - then zimmered slowly back again to get my glasses which I would be sure to have forgotten - and zimmered slowly back on court again, I would have incurred some time penalty that meant I would have forfeited the game.

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Aunts

Bea set off on a round of family/friend visits on Friday and is back this afternoon.  The sun is on our balcony this early morning, shining on the geraniums and our new cushion covers, the bushes along the wall are swaying in the breeze and the Channel is in turquoise-blue mode with little white horses flourescing in the shallows.

Bea has made me a beautiful butterfly robe to wear for hospital - it is light and silky and will be so easy to get into.  And she has made a lovely silk scarf for Jackie.   And yesterday, Aunt Jo, my only other remaining aunt, rang and we had a long chat. She is concerned about the operations that face me... and is not all that well herself.

One of the many things you don't think about when you are young is that, as you get older, you will lose all your uncles and aunts.  They seem as fixed as the stars in the sky when you are a child. And of course that you will become an aunt yourself. And then - gulp - a great aunt - four times over so far.

Aunt Jo, looking so young and glamorous, is in the first photo of me ever taken.

How quickly it all goes.   Well, as I have said before, that was one of the things that set me searching - nearly 30 years ago.  Was there any meaning to it all?  Is this all the time we get to spend with the people we love?   That, and above all, the beauty and glory of the world.   I came to realise it had been made so beautiful just for us. By Someone.  And I wanted to find that Someone and thank Him.

And, then of course, I talked to two Jehovah's Witnesses who called at my door and found out what the Bible on my shelf had been trying to tell me all along.

I only hope that, after the operations, I can get back out there and try to tell others myself.

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Travellers

Bea and I were entertaining each other with our failed railway journeys down the years.  Bea was remembering how she sailed past her stop on an unfamiliar line one snowy winters night in the North, and that reminded me of an experience of my own, also on a cold dark night, but in the South, many years ago.

I was taking a train home for the first time and hadn't realised that it was a splitting train, until it began to dawn on me that we were going through some oddly named stations - insofar as I could see through the snow and the gloom.  I then found out that I was in the wrong half of the train, and it had already split.  The other half was heading home, the half I was in was going somewhere else altogether.

So I got off at the next stop at a little country station, crossed over the footbridge, and caught the next train going back, intending to get off at the first familiar station, cross over again, wait for my train, and get in the right half this time.

However - and you may have seen this coming (I didn't) - the next train was also a splitting train, and, once again, I was in the wrong half.

I ended up at some even smaller and darker country station - not a soul about - waiting in a waiting room with an old fashioned fire, watching a little harvest mouse whizz round the room and the wastepaper baskets like a mad clockwork toy.  It was a darling little thing.

Then, through the silence and gloom the figure of a man loomed up at the door.  He was in uniform and was holding something. It was the Stationmaster and he was holding a nice hot cup of tea.

"You're in for a long cold wait, love, so I've brought you some tea."

Well, you can pretty much carbon date that experience from the way it ended- back in the Nicecupofteaocene Era.

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The House of Two Milks

Bea arrives tomorrow.  But we will remain the house of Two Milks, as she is not on the soya at the moment.  My June magazines have all been delivered and Ursula rang up to say thanks and to have a chat.

A quiet day of housework, studying, and watching daytime TV.

I have been re-reading my climbing books, and have re-climbed Everest with Bear Grylls, John Krakauer, and Matt Dickinson.   They all take you right up there with them - even though, in my case, I do slow everyone down as they have to wait for me to zimmer up the difficult bits.

It has reminded me though that life is too precious to climb mountains.  It is a gamble, from top to bottom.  The strongest and most careful climber can die up there. And a rescue is pretty much impossible. That was demonstrated only too tragically in John Krakauer's "Into Thin Air", as Rob Hall and Andy Harris both died trying to save Doug Hansen.

I hope all three of them will wake up when the time comes, and see this lovely earth again.  I don't think Jehovah will forget them.  

As Job said:　
"O that in She´ol you would conceal me,
That you would keep me secret until your anger turns back,
That you would set a time limit for me and remember me.
If an able-bodied man dies can he live again?
All the days of my compulsory service I shall wait,
Until my relief comes.
You will call, and I myself shall answer you.
For the work of your hands you will have a yearning."

 

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Butterfly Paperwork

The second batch members for May arrived on Thursday, and their membership packages now await Captain Butterfly's next trip to the Post Office. 

Lovely sea yesterday. There was a strong wind - the balcony geraniums were waving about and the waves were racing at us.  Tennis at Queens seemed to have been rained off.

To Jacks for supper last night - fizzy wine, salmon, with a dill sauce, and choc ices - after a good cheese selection.  I have been craving something chocolate all week.  And to the meeting this morning, self-chauffered, as Captain B has had to get into his Superhero mode and go out on another rescue. His call-out buzzer rang at 4.00 this morning - and at 1.30 last night.  I am exhausted, so I dread to think how tired he is going to be when he gets back.

Its raining, and we will soon find out if Queens has been rained off again.

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Walking - and the Increasing of Lawlessness Worldwide

Tuesday involved walking down seemingly endless miles of hospital corridors. I really should have taken advantage of the wheelchairs provided but I feel somehow that once I get into one I will never get out again...

Captain B was hurtling about all day, chauffering me, visiting the plover - no sign of the hatched egg scuttling about on the beach - which is either very worrying or  a tribute to its perfect camouflage -  posting a lot of butterfly magazines which have been requested by Audrey, and which I can parcel up but no longer take to the Post Office.

Yesterday was very quiet - I was exhausted - I felt like someone who had just tottered down from the summit of Everest - by one of the harder routes - in a blizzard (it was raining).


The increasing of lawlessness worldwide - a friend who lives in a quiet little cul de sac nearby had a terrible evening (dis)courtesy of a load of young  - very young - 11? 12? year old - thuglets, who damaged her house, threw stones at her windows, and upon her daring to object, shrieked obscenities at her, and said - correctly - "there is nothing you can do".

When she dialed 999 in desperation, the Police were wonderful, as was the girl on the other end of the phone who could hear what was happening and who told her not to go outside but to STAY on the phone till the police arrived.  Though it must be deeply frustrating for them, as in the end there is nothing much the law allows them to do.

But then the whole world is run by Satan and he encourages and rewards the sort of behaviour he wants - i.e. lawlessness.  He earned his title, Satan, by his rebellion against his Creator.

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Yellow Poppies

Yellow Horned Poppy, Glaucium flavum

Captain Butterfly has given me a glimpse of the poppies now out on the beach via his camera. 

I drove to the Hall yesterday- and managed the reverse out of the (non-existent) carpark.  I feel a bit guilty taking up the elders offer of parking, as I don't want to be the thin end of a wedge for them. I am not the only one in the congregation with walking difficulties.

The Captain took me out for lunch to Arundel today.  The new bird lake is now filled up with water and is in the process of being planted.  There is a Kingfisher bank, and a new hide.  And a little island. It should be lovely. And this is surely one of the things Jehovah put us on the earth to do, to garden it, to make it a Paradise for man and the animal creation.

We had a nice lunch - quiche and salad for me, spag bol for him - and then I did my studying for the day - Jeremiah and Acts - while Col tried to photograph some warblers in the reeds.  I watched a mother duck and her ducklets bobbing about on the lake. She was bringing them across to the other side when a seagull came in for a landing.  It suddenly put the brakes on as it realised it was going to land right by the ducklings. Wisely I think.  Mum was already rearing up in a scary way.

Then the littlest duckling, in the rear, got fascinated by something in the water, and suddenly realised it had got left behind.  It clockworked like a jet plane across the water and got safely back to mum. Thank goodness.  What a dangerous world it is at the moment for the tiny things.

Spent much of this afternoon ringing up about medical appointments.
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Butterfly tongues

Captain Butterfly is getting ready for a Butterfly Conservation Day tomorrow.  The flat is full of colourful posters and handouts and what have you, all trying to alert people to the stresses on the butterfly populations.  Get things right for them, and it becomes right for so many other things.

I wondered if he would like copies of my "Butterfly Tongue Pate Recipe (a million butterflies a bite)" as an extra handout, but he went pale, and waved garlic at me.

A wonderful meeting last night.  I know I keep saying that, but the teaching just gets better and better, as they give us a deeper and deeper insight into the Inspired Scriptures.  We are still in our study of Jeremiah, and we can learn so much from how faithfully he kept going in very difficult times.  He relied completely on Jehovah, and not one of us will get through unless we have that strong a faith.

We begin the book of Acts next week, and once again learn how faithful, valiant and beleaguered the first Christian congregation was.

Col kindly chauffered both me and Audrey - we had door to door service to and from the Kingdom Hall.

When I got back I found there was a programme about William Tyndale on, with Melyvn Bragg presenting.  It was a powerful tribute to Tyndale and the love had for the Inspired Word of God and his determination to translate it into the vernacular so that everyone in England would be able to read it for themselves.  The programme pointed out how the power of his translation had a profound effect on the English language. As it would, given that the Bible is inspired by the Creator of language.   And Tyndale made his translations from the original language.

He died a terrible death - burnt at the stake - because of his determination that God's word should be read by all.  Jehovah will never forget that. So William Tyndale will surely live again. And if he was one of the saints, or "holy ones", (something for Jehovah to decide, not us), then he will already have been resurrected to heavenly life.

And I did wonder what he thought of the programme, if so. I hope he would have approved.

I did nothing yesterday beyond minimal housework, get us our lunch and supper, and do my studying...  I must do better today.   Maybe I should go and read to my moth babies on the balcony and get them reading ahead of time. I don't want to fall behind the other moth-ers in the coming sessions at the school gates. 

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Wave Dancer

I have also been reading "No Safe Harbour - the Tragedy of the Dive Ship Wave Dancer" by John Burnworth.  He was a diver on the ship that was moored beside the Wave Dancer when the hurricane threw her across Big Creek Harbour (in Belize) and sunk her, killing 20 people: seventeen members of the Richmond Dive Club and three crew members.

What is especially tragic about it is that no-one else died in Big Creek Harbour that day, even those on the other boat.  No-one should have died.  Apparently the Captain could have taken the advice to run the boat into the mangrove swamps, but didn't.  The Belizean crew realised the danger, but the Captain was not a local.  I don't think he had been through a hurricane before, and I suppose its hard to imagine the power and devastation.

I presume that would have worked as the hurricane threw the boat at the mangroves and a couple of them survived because they were thrown off the boat into the mangroves before it turned over.   So presumably, all that would have happened, had they only been there to start with, is that the boat would have been driven further into the swamp but it would have been held upright. 

The boat may have been lost, but it was lost anyway, along with twenty lives.

The survivors, including the Captain, were very brave in the aftermath, swimming about in that storm trying to rescue people - some divers even going inside the upside down boat.  Which is probably one of the most dangerous things a diver can do.

I have been on so many dive trips with dive club members - mostly American too - that I felt almost as if I knew all the people on the trip - knew how lighthearted it would all be - how much fun everyone would have -  how they would talk about the diving in the bar in the evening. And then, all in a few minutes, most of them were gone.  One couple had two young sons.

I hope they have a wonderful awakening ahead of them when the earth is restored to Paradise.  We will still find the power of nature awe-inspiring, but it will no longer hurt us.  If you remember, Jesus, as the King of Jehovah's kingdom, had the authority to calm the storm.


Managed a totter to Waitrose yesterday, supervised by Captain B.  And made us lunch and supper.  And studied. Oh and had a long talk with Audrey and short one with Carol, my last householder, about caterpillars, but that was about it for yesterday.  Paid for my dizzy exploits in Waitrose today and have spent too much of the day lying on the bed trying to reduce the pain in my knees.

Some of the caterpillars that I discussed with Carol have now moved in and are in a caterpillar nursery on the balcony. Apparently they will turn into beautiful - and definitely NOT carpet - moths.  I must get some spiderweb and start knitting lots of little bootees for my new batch of children.

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A Virtual Walk on the Beach

Sea Kale, Crambe maritima

Captain B did the walking and brought the photos back for me.

Another sunny day today.  The meeting yesterday was full of comfort and reassurance.  A wonderful talk by David - reminding us of what  a protection godly respect for authority is for us.

All being well, a very quiet day ahead.  In which I hope to start my studying for the week, continue restoring order after the bathroom chaos and make us lunch or dinner, depending on when Captain B will be dining today.

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Washing China by the English Channel

That could be the title of a Booker Prize winner, if I could write the book to go along with it.  But I did spend much of yesterday washing all our china and bits and pieces - a lifetime collection.   Captain Butterfly had wrapped them up and put them away for the duration of the building work, and I unwrapped and washed and polished for most of yesterday.

That always used to be my job, wrapping the china for our many moves, but I am about as much use as a chocolate teapot a lot of the time now.  I did have a proud record of No Breakages, which I spoilt in our last week in Expatland.  I had taken a whole load of carefully wrapped china round to an Indian friend who worked at the hospital. I gave her all our china.  Or I thought I had, but when I got back, I found some more plates in a cupboard in our vast American kitchen.  It crossed a dateline or two, and I once found a whole cupboard full of tea and coffee I didn't even know I had.   Crossly and carelessly I wrapped the plates up, drove too fast over a speed bump on my way back to her place, and broke one!

Jacks came round and we had our usual happy evening. We always seem to cheer each other up.  We had fish pie - all had second helpings - and a fancy fruit salad with ice-cream.

Its a sunny morning, and was sunny yesterday.  I was able to do my studying for the meeting today out on the balcony.

Today I hope to move all the books back out of my bedroom into the restored bookshelves, and get the bathroom stuff sorted and restored to my new bathroom.

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Huge mirrors

I have just finished "Reading Lolita in Tehran" by Azar Nafisi. And I recommend it. And I hope to say some more about it when I have done a bit of a blog catch up.

She starts with an extract from "Annalena" by Czeslaw Milosz.

"To whom do we tell what happened on the
 Earth, for whom do we place everywhere huge
 Mirrors in the hope that they will be filled up
 And will stay so?"

I was intrigued by Lolita. Why Lolita?  Her answer is a very interesting and sad one.

Col fetched and carried me from the meeting tonight. I hope I can keep going up to my ops, but I am in such pain.  I also have a very bad cold, so couldn't take my fortnightly meds.  Which does not help.

Went to see the Anaethetist on Tuesday, and got a bit confused and followed the wrong nurse.  Fortunately, before they actually started to saw my old knee off, the muddle was sorted out, and those of us who had got it wrong were returned to the right bit of the hospital.

Early appointment at doctors the next morning - for blood pressure check.  They changed the venue on me at 8.30 a.m. so we had a mad dash to a more distant surgery, and then a long long wait - even though I was the only one in the waiting room. By the time he came to take my blood pressure I was so het up I expected to explode the machine.  But it was, and I quote, "lovely".

So I hope that means it was good - not that it was lovely in the sense that it was about to achieve another patient cull.

Jacks is coming for supper tomorrow - and IF I can totter off to the shops with the Captain I will make a fish pie and a summer fruit salad.  If not, it will be a takeaway.

I can't reply to anybody's email now - we have a new computer system - glitches - so apologies to those who have not yet got a reply. We hope to fix it tomorrow.

The new bathroom is finally finished!  It looks very smart.  And I am not sure that I want anyone going in there and using it and getting water on it.

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A Grand-moth-er

I think I am shortly to have dozens of grandchildren, as our little moth baby has left us two batches of eggs which are being carefully monitored by Captain Moth, and when she was returned to the wild Sussex Downs, she started laying more under various leaves.

Such a short life they have, yet Jehovah has made them so exquisite. And each tiny egg, containing another exquisite ermine-robed creature, is another miracle.

Finally got my magazine route finished. Not posted yet, but all finished.

The Channel is sparkling away outside the window and there are quite a few people on the Green.

Springwatch starts tonight!

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The Sea, The Sea

The Channel was so lovely yesterday - the sea full in - the water like blue glass - and a procession of little racing yachts with sparkly white sails making a clockwork toy progression across it.  And we had a classic sky above it - a joyful blue with fluffy white clouds.

Carol and I delivered my talk - and the brothers had moved the furniture for me so that I could approach the stage via the slope not the stairs. That confused the next brother coming up to give his experience of years of working for us all at the Haysbridge Assembly Hall, and he entered the stage the wrong way, and had to re-enter. Which made me feel rather guilty.

However, at least I cheered someone up. As I began my marathon backing-my-car-out-of-the-non-existent-KH-carpark, a brother who is disfellowshipped (and who is coming to meetings, so who will surely soon be reinstated) was coming out the door, looking a bit down.  As I drove triumphantly off at the end of all my backing and filling I noticed he had a big smile on his face.

We had our usual lovely evening with Jacks - lasagne, salad, cheese, and an apple strudel with ice-cream.  And lots of laughing about the plights of old age - though not one of us feels old.  Its just our bodies seem to.  We all find life more wonderful and interesting than ever.  But, as the Inspired Scriptures tell us, we were made to live forever, after all. And the world, even now, cut off as we are from our Creator, is full of beauty and wonders.

I hope that Lee Rigby, the young soldier who survived Afghanistan to be hacked to death on the savage streets of London, will wake up to see it all again when the time comes - along with all those killed and being killed in the current Crusades in the Middle East.

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My Talk in the Ministry School Tonight

This is the talk I hope to be giving this evening - from the main platform.   I found it difficult to write...  I don't know whether because this has been a stressful two weeks what with all the medical stuff, and the builders in (2 here at the moment) - or that I couldn't quite get a handle on what was required.  

Anyway, its done and dusted, and I have practised it once with Captain B and twice with my householder, so I can do no more.

WHAT STEPS CAN WE TAKE TO PROTECT OURSELVES FROM FALSE TEACHERS?

Setting:  A  home Bible study;   Study No.44: Effective use of  questions.

Assigned Scriptures: 2 John 9-11; Romans 16:17.

Sue.  Before we start our study today C, I wanted to ask you what you thought about the public talk on Sunday.

C.  It was interesting,  But what the speaker said about the religions of the world and how they have been misleading people has put a question in my mind. And I hope I won't upset you by asking it, but how can I be sure that what YOU are teaching is the truth?

Sue.  C, that is an important question.  It's one you do need to ask  because, well doesn't the Bible warn us that Satan is misleading the entire inhabited earth.  How can we protect ourselves from being misled?

C.  It seems almost impossible.

Sue.  It would be, without the help of Jehovah's spirit.  Think about the title of this book we are using in our study: "What does the Bible REALLY teach?  Why would it be so important to know?

C.  Because it contains the truth. It is inspired by God's holy spirit.

Sue. Exactly. It is the Rock against which we can measure what we are taught. If it is in harmony with the Bible we can be sure it's true. And the Bible gives clear practical advice on how to make sure that false teachers do not infiltrate the congregation.  Would you read  2 John 9-11 for us?

C. reads: (2 John 9-11)" Everyone that pushes ahead and does not remain in the teaching of the Christ does not have God. He that does remain in this teaching is the one that has both the Father and the Son.  If anyone comes to you and does not bring this teaching, never receive him into your homes or say a greeting to him.  For he that says a greeting to him is a sharer in his wicked works."

Sue. Do you see what we must avoid?

C. Those who don't remain in the teaching of  the Christ. But surely, you would have to live like a hermit to avoid all such wrong teaching?

Sue:  Yes, indeed. And, as you know we don't do that. We don't isolate ourselves - for a start we have to do the preaching work - and we have normal contacts with our neighbours, our workmates, our schoolmates, and many others. But did you notice the word "remain"?  He that does not remain in the teaching of the Christ.  So we must avoid anyone who tries to bring wrong teaching and wrong conduct within the Christian congregation.  In fact, the elders have to remove any such ones from the congregation, and we must all co-operate with this disfellowshipping arrangement.    So we all have our part to play in keeping the congregation free of false teachers.  Would you read Romans 16:17.

C: Reads: (Romans 16:17 "Now I exhort you, brothers, to keep your eye on those who cause divisions and occasions for stumbling contrary to the teaching that you have learned, and avoid them."

Sue:  How might each one of us keep an eye on those who cause divisions and avoid them?

C:  I was thinking about  the Watchtower study that followed the talk on Sunday - didn't the Speaker say something about apostate sites on the internet, and how important it was to avoid them?

Sue.  Yes, that is a real protection for us  An apostate is someone who has left the truth, and who then turns round and tries to mislead their former brothers and sisters. Jehovah tells us, clearly and simply, to avoid them.

C.  So you are saying that following Bible teaching is our protection against falsehood?

Sue.  Yes. Just to illustrate that, you know those antique shows on the telly where you see an expert pick up, say, a small blue and white china bowl, turn it round, have a look at it, and say: "Ming dynasty. This is worth at least £500 at auction."  Then he picks up an identical (as far as I am concerned) blue and white bowl, and says: "Made last month, shipped by the container load, and worth about a fiver". Now, how can he tell? I can't see any difference between them.

C. Well, I suppose because he has examined so many of the real thing - he sees the difference straight away.

Sue.  Yes. And so the more we examine the truth, God's word, the more we will be able to recognise false teachers for what they are and avoid them.

Carol:  We had better get on with our study then.

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