Wednesday, 30 April 2008
Sunday, 27 April 2008
I met with a young friend down by the sea front the other night and we enjoyed a beer together. I was struck by a number of searchers on the beach, what had they lost? They were so intent on their search, head down and kicking up stones and seaweed. Perhaps they weren't looking for anything specific, was this part of the missing DNA syndrome? can't help searching for something (don't know what)? We would say; it's in our jeans.
I remember walking on the beach some years ago, I was going to meet a young person who had spent the night in a cell [police, not monastic]. Head down and not in a rush. I picked up a stone, it was not very spectacular, pretty ugly actually; I would usually choose something with an interesting shape to play with in my hand before throwing it into the sea. As I turned it over I could see there was a hole washed right through, that in itself is not unusual round these parts. Inside there was something rattling, a shell - white, clean and shiny inside this dirty old piece of stone. I tried to shake it out, but it wouldn't come no matter which way I turned it. I came to the conclusion that it hadn't been washed in, rather it was washed out. The shell had been enclosed inside this prehistoric mud and the sea had washed a hole through to reveal this little shell and out of all the stones, I picked it up. This stone and it's shell live at the drop-in and I often use it when I'm talking to folk about beauty within. Perhaps that is what we are all constantly searching for - beauty and peace.
Note to evening office: Read that bit about the birds of the air and the flowers, not having to worry. For what God provides is sufficient.
Wednesday, 23 April 2008
Sunday, 20 April 2008
This picture of my cousins and yours truly (between the two boys) is taken close to the mill, it would be behind us and to the left.
"lets do it"
Wednesday, 16 April 2008
Sunday, 13 April 2008
Out and about with my camera the other morning, I didn't realise just how well the photo above was till it turned up on my PC. It wasn't even intentional, just a snap to see how the camera worked. Signs of new life on last years young stems and how these will grow this year; I think I am more taken with the colours in the background. Now, already people around us are venturing into their gardens clipping and trimming, I too have been pruning back the butterfly bushes. I am not a gardener, more of a potterer (I potter in the garden) doing a little of this and a little of that. The household does not have any gardening knowledge as such, just visitors and friends offering advice. I cleared some space around the silver birch (allow it some room for growth) - how often our own space is cluttered and restricts movement or time to be just still.
Remember the ginger biscuits? again, Saturday morning I was in the kitchen armed with ingredients and instructions. Putting them into the oven a few at a time was an advantage; getting the size of mixture just right to produce a reasonable biscuit was more tricky than the mixture itself. Again it is the things the recipe doesn't say that causes the problems (next time two heaped teaspoons of ginger).
In among my mums things I turned out something I used to play with as a boy, it lived in the dresser drawer and I don't remember it ever being used. I would aimlessly spin it round by the handle, it has a very smooth action. I don't think I ever asked what it was or if I did it would be filed under "not very interesting". So come on, who out there wants to hazard a guess as to what this device is used for; drop me a line - it's made out of that old stuff called bakalite - oh yes, let me give you a picture - that would help.
Note to evening office: Lord may I touch into your peace, which is a peace beyond our understanding and the faith to walk in it.
Wednesday, 9 April 2008
Thursday, 3 April 2008
An old Quality Street tin that has accumulated bits n bobs was poured out on the kitchen table, long after all had gone to bed. Big sister would recognise most of these 1960's style buttons and buckles; miraculous medals appear in all Mum's boxes and drawers (the tin is no exception); a small crucifix next to a white overall button. There are random numbers from a game and metal puzzle chains, did the cog wheel come from one of my old trains and why did we keep it? An old fashioned collar stud and a dice; I wondered long and hard as to how the old curtain rail hook ran along the track. The colours don't really interest me but the shapes and what is that pipe thing? I took out some tiddlywinks and practised my skill; an old half penny and some of the buttons had thread left on (recycling is not a new idea).
Brother Cyril no doubt would give me some long explanations to all these haberdashery gadgets but I think I will just put them back in the tin. Really I should throw it away, especially now I know there are no hidden treasures but I guess it won't take up much room and I may be looking for a dice or safety pin one day.
Two days ago (early morning) I paused at the top landing window; I often spend a moment here taking in the view. At that moment a pair of swans came flying in from my left, they rose up along the valley and past the viaduct - I wanted to rush for my camera or binoculars but decided just to stand there, and watch the beauty of those enormous birds. Such long necks and a rear engine with massive wings Wow! They turned by the large hotel and headed in land, where were they going? I assumed swans stayed pretty close to their home base. I could not have been more impressed by a pair of Spitfires.
Life is chugging on quite slowly here and folk come and go; time itself seems to be passing quickly but the hands of the clock hardly move. I am aware of things approaching and of trying to fit it all in - then in one single moment, as I stop. This pair of swans fly right across my line of sight. As if they were waiting for me..