A Grand Day Out

It's been a fun day of celebration. No Street Party in this village, but a "Safari" with a gaggle of adults and children moving from one house to another to partake of liquid refreshment and snacks. I hosted at 1.30 p.m. just after the fly-past over Buckingham Palace had been televised, and we enjoyed glasses of "Pimm's", white bread cucumber sandwiches (with the crusts cut off), prawn vol-au-vents, a selection of "deep fried" (oven) prawns in batter, crumbs etc with a sweet chilli dip or a hoi sin & plum dip, and a cheeseboard, sitting out on the patio in hazy sunshine. I then followed the crowd to the last two stops on the trek, partaking of an alcoholic ginger beer and two glasses of minty margerita.

Easter morning

Very early, just after the sun had risen, they went to the garden ....

The new Bishop of Salisbury? We can dream ...

The Gospel for 5th Sunday in Lent, Year A.

The Raising of Lazarus as depicted in an unattributed oil painting gifted to one of our Benefice churches back in the 1890's where it hangs above the font, presumably symbolic of new life. I remain unconvinced of its suitability in that position.

AGM number 6 of 11

I don't feel less wise ...

... with the extraction of my bottom left wisdom tooth ... just numb....

I was offered it as a souvenir .... I declined. The tooth fairy hasn't called for years.
:)

Duck Soup

Not the Marx Bros variety .....


These were taking up valuable parking space in Halesworth this morning. I don't think they'd paid. Who do I call?

Brewing

SCENE I. A cavern. In the middle, a boiling cauldron.

Thunder. Enter the three Witches

First Witch
Thrice the brinded cat hath mew'd.

Second Witch
Thrice and once the hedge-pig whined.

Third Witch
Harpier cries 'Tis time, 'tis time.

First Witch
Round about the cauldron go;
In the poison'd entrails throw.
Toad, that under cold stone
Days and nights has thirty-one
Swelter'd venom sleeping got,
Boil thou first i' the charmed pot.

ALL
Double, double toil and trouble;
Fire burn, and cauldron bubble.

Second Witch
Fillet of a fenny snake,
In the cauldron boil and bake;
Eye of newt and toe of frog,
Wool of bat and tongue of dog,
Adder's fork and blind-worm's sting,
Lizard's leg and owlet's wing,
For a charm of powerful trouble,
Like a hell-broth boil and bubble.

ALL
Double, double toil and trouble;
Fire burn and cauldron bubble.

Third Witch
Scale of dragon, tooth of wolf,
Witches' mummy, maw and gulf
Of the ravin'd salt-sea shark,
Root of hemlock digg'd i' the dark,
Gall of goat, and slips of yew
Silver'd in the moon's eclipse,
Finger of birth-strangled babe
Ditch-deliver'd by a drab,
Make the gruel thick and slab:
Add thereto a tiger's chaudron,
For the ingredients of our cauldron.

ALL
Double, double toil and trouble;
Fire burn and cauldron bubble.

Second Witch
Cool it with a baboon's blood,
Then the charm is firm and good.

Yes! It's Lent Lunch day again ... and the home-made soups are bubbling!
Carrot and coriander.
Roasted tomato and red pepper.

Annual Church Meetings 2011

That's one down ... just 10 more to go.
.

Anti-Cuts March, London

"This has been Middle Britain speaking," said the TUC General Secretary Brendan Barber. Well, maybe some of it, Mr. Barber, but not this bit of it over here in Suffolk. This part of "Middle Britain" and its families view the chaos that took place in London today with distaste. It's claimed that small groups hijacked the main march and broke away to carry out their illegal activities, but the march itself gave them the opportunity to do so, and also the cover into which they could disappear afterwards.

None of us want to see cuts in Public Services, but if you haven't got the money you can't spend it without running up massive debts and eventual bankruptcy. What holds true in an individual life holds true with the national life. It's the same cry that the churches are making to the Diocese as it continually presses our congregations to increase their giving so that mission may go ahead, completely forgetting that the existence of the ancient church building in the centre of its community is mission in itself.

I was in London this morning, but took the opportunity to make my way to Liverpool Street station well ahead of time so as to miss the expected mayhem. I walked across Hyde Park from Kensington to Marble Arch to catch the tube. The Hyde Park police station was a hive of activity with coach-loads of uniformed officers getting ready for the day. The tents and mobile toilets were set up on the lawns, and at Marble Arch itself there were several stands with red "Socialist Worker" flags fluttering and copies of their paper being touted to bemused tourists. I made it along the Central Line with no problems. At Liverpool Street a small group of "Socialist Worker" students (is not that self-contradictory?) were massing ready to march down to the centre, but I slipped away north-east on my train, the only occupant in a 1st Class carriage (this luxury just a couple of pounds more than 2nd class travel).

Brendan Barber said he "bitterly regretted" the violence, adding that he hoped it would not detract from the massive anti-cuts protest. He told the Press Association: "I don't think the activities of a few hundred people should take the focus away from the hundreds of thousands of people who have sent a powerful message to the Government today. Ministers should now seriously reconsider their whole strategy after today's demonstration."

The trouble is, Mr. Barber, despite the laudable rhetoric on your march posters (as above), I don't see any credible practical alternative plan being offered by your side in this debate.

Lent Lunch No.2

The second Lent Lunch is upon me, and so tonight has been spent setting out the tables, which will seat 16 people, place-mats, cutlery, napkins, the cheeseboards and condiments, and finding enough chairs.


Tomorrow's choices will be Sweet potato and vegetable with coriander, or Mushroom with tarragon. Served with a warm bread roll, and the followed by a small selection of cheeses, rounded off with coffee or tea, all for £3.50 per head.

I'm thankful I've got two soup kettles (large bains-maries) and a dishwasher!
.

In trembling and fear

Faced with the devastation we've been witnessing on our TV screens and in our newspapers these last few days, we can find ourselves at loss for words to describe our reactions. Here's someone who has managed to piece together their thoughts and faith in a comprehensive and compelling way.

Phew! It's a scorcher!

The vicarage ran out of heating oil at the start of February, and I've been hanging on before ordering because this village has a buying Consortium, and if I had ordered my fuel independently I would not only have missed out on their reduced price, but also lowered the total order for the rest of the group. So it's been electric heaters since then, and heating each room as required. The hallways have been so cold that your breath could be seen, and I've been sleeping under two duvets and another cover.

But yesterday the oil was delivered, and though it has cost me not far short of a grand to fill the tank, the house is now reasonably warm again. I've even left off my vest!

It was no real hardship, after all I grew up in a home with no central heating, scraping ice off the inside of the windows during winter, and my first flat had a small gas fire in the sitting room as its only source of heat, but so soon do we wallow in physical comfort when it's available.

I'm not sure if that's an entirely appropriate way to begin Lent!
.

Signs of hope in the garden

From winter's decay new life springs forth.

Picture it

My trip back to Sarum College wasn't a holiday - I was on a short course entitled "Infancy Narratives of Matthew, Luke and James" which looked at the various accounts of the birth of Jesus and how they have influenced the ways in which classical artists have portrayed the event.

Taking the apocryphal Gospel of James as our starting point on Monday afternoon, we looked at, amongst others, works by Giotto, Ghirlandaio and Gaddi. The Giotto frescoes in particular tell Mary's story and show how Joseph was chosen to be her husband. The image above shows their betrothal after Joseph's rod has burst into flower, signifying that he is the intended groom. To the left you can see a disappointed suitor breaking his rod over his knee in annoyance, whilst another steps forward to slap Joseph across the head - an ancient symbol of ascertaining his virility.

On Tuesday morning we looked at Matthew's Gospel and his genealogy of Jesus, and viewed works by Champaigne, Sasseta and El Greco. In the afternoon we began on Luke, and looked at paintings by Fra Angelico, van Eyck, Tintoretto and Rosetti.

Wednesday morning we should have finished Luke's opening chapters, but our lecturer, Dori Rockefeller, was unwell and unable to be with us, so instead the cathedral Precentor came across and spoke to us on "Liturgy as Art" and caused us to think about the "theatre" of what we do in our worship.

In all it was an entertaining and informative time, and well worth attending. A feast for the mind and eyes. The food at the College was good as well!

Hitting the bottle

The cloisters at Salisbury Cathedral are currently hosting a sound and light exhibition by the artist Bruce Munro. On two sides of the quadrangle the cloister walk is filled with 69 glowing towers made from 15,000 recyclable 2 litre water bottles which are illuminated inside with fibre-optic cables. The colours change to a soundtrack of recorded choral music, and it's quite an experience to wander among these towers in the dark as I did this evening after Choral Evensong.


Inside the cathedal several curtains of tear-drop lights hang from the choir arch at the central crossing, and seen from the west end of the nave, behind the mirror-surface of the font with its ever-flowing four streams of water, it creates a marvellous view.

Night has fallen ...

...and I've just had a pint of Badger's Best Bitter in The New Inn.

Back at 19 The Close ...

... for a short course on Art and the Incarnation narratives of Matthew, Luke and the Gospel of James.

Treading the old familiar corridors of my training ground and surrounded by ghosts .... DN and his gin parties for his anglo-catholic buddies, Pinky & Perky, JC puffing his pipe out of the attic window, TJ fiddling with sliders and volume controls in the basement, Cyril the caretaker, BP who would hear what you were saying but wasn't quite sure what you meant, AG in his cowboy boots, 4Q Florilegium, KY and the BCP, and above all, like a caring house-master, RA.

A gentle whisper ...

King Lear
Act III. Scene II.

Lear speaks:
Blow, winds, and crack your cheeks! rage! blow!
You cataracts and hurricanoes, spout
Till you have drench’d our steeples, drown’d the cocks!

It's getting rough out there ... nothing like northern Scotland has had to put up with in the last 24 hours with gusts of 130 mph on the top of the Highlands, nor the people of Queensland, but the windows are whistling, the wind roaring in the trees, and lots of dead wood coming down on the roads, and the internet connection crashing every couple of minutes.

How they can say this with a straight face ....

This communique was released by the Primates meeting in Dublin following the murder of the Ugandan gay-rights activist, David Kato.

Quite how these "leaders" can issue such a statement when the Anglican church continues to persecute and sideline homosexual and lesbian Christians is quite beyond my understanding. Possibly that's one reason I shall never become a Bishop. And more to the point, that's one reason I would never want to become one!

Maybe I ought to remember that it's January, and Janus was the Roman god of two faces. Quite appropriate really.