The Cat Nap

The friary cat has just emerged from his long slumber, no doubt he sneaked into one of the rooms without detection. I am wondering how long I can keep typing this before he distracts me enough to go find his dish. Hmmm, perhaps I should go straight away then he will be off for a wander down the garden. This last couple of weeks seem to have been so full of busyness while at the same time there has been a strange feeling of "what next" and when it comes down to finding time on my own - there is a tiredness and lack of motivation. The book has not advanced one paragraph this week even though I set a target date to complete this chapter. It seems this part of my life is in suspension.

Sundays of my youth were, Sunday mass and home for a good roast dinner with Yorkshire puddings. Mum and Dad would rest in the easy chairs and Dad would say "I'm just having 40 winks". I would play quietly or read a comic such as Look and Learn, eventually Dad would wake and Mum would put the kettle on. It would often be a treat to run down to the local shop (The Kiosk) and buy a quarter of Riley's Chocolate Toffee Rolls (sadly no longer available). This time of year, the gas fire would be on and the lounge would be the cosiest room in the house; later on the trolley (table on wheels) would be pushed through to the lounge with sandwiches, cakes and biscuits. My parents were great at remenissing and it seems so am I; so where am I going with this? My parents were older than those of my peers and I guess needed their rest after dinner on a Sunday, but they were actually younger then than I am now and I have never taken a nap in the afternoon. Brother Cyril is often asleep and sometimes I need to wake him to tell him to go to bed, Brother Michael (it seems) never sleeps? however there are times when he says he is away to his room to study or write some letters. Perhaps there is something in this afternoon nap; in Spain they call it a siesta and I believe famous people do this too, so maybe mid-day office should be extended a little?

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Beauty surrounding us

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I was what we call a late vocation, and first served my time as an audio/electronics engineer back in the late 60's. What started out as a hobby (short wave communication) ended up a career; in those days we were just into transistor radios and I remember turning an old cassette tape machine into what we now know as a "Walkman", the head phones were large but hidden mostly by my long hair. How technology has moved, I am now listening to the same music on a 2Gbyte iPod and though I accept is now as the norm, it still amazes me that I can get all the Beatles songs on one small piece of equipment. I have also recently got a portable MP3 recorder so watch out for some Podcasts in the future.

Washing up this morning and looking out of the window, I had one of those moments; thinking about how technology has moved so fast, we can post information on the Internet and immediately it is being read all round the world - Wow!

It always got me thinking when I remember how we were taught, that when Jesus returns - everyone will know - My mind would often think how that could happen? Telephone, television or now the Internet; it seems more possible now than ever before. Don't worry, I am not going to get into a debate about the second coming; this is a subject that seems to consume so many people and in my mind distracts from our real work - to feed the hungry, heal the sick, visit those in prison and clothe the naked. But just so we are not too absorbed in how all this is going to happen, my thoughts came closer to home. It does seem that with those very close to us, we develop an ability to know how they are even if they are physically miles away; so when Christ returns and our link with him is so strong, it would not be surprising to know (inside) of his earthly presence.

My iPod was with me this weekend as I worked in the garden, we have to catch up with garden chores as work permits and weather dictates. The old shed was leaning dangerously to the right so I set to and propped it up straight with a stout piece of timber; funny how one job leads to another, the shed itself needs emptying before I can put the internal ties in and then we need to decide what goes back into the shed. Wouldn't it be easier if tasks were single and simple, I am sure I would get more done. Brother Cyril sat in the garden while I worked and read his book, looking up occasionally to say what a good job I was doing. We sat and had a cup of tea together and he remenissed about the garden he grew up in and how his young friends would come and build dens among the trees. I said he could build us a new shed! he just laughed and said "have we had tea"? I keep threatening to pull out the butterfly bush and make a little more room for the other small shrubs around it, but when I see the host of butterfly's that it brings me - it stays at least for another year - such beauty and so delicate.

Note to evening office: How can I value such beauty the world provides me?
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Alnwick castle gardens

At the bottom of a spectacular waterfall are two drains;
as if someone has taken the plug out!



Children running to dodge the fountains.
Great fun!

Step out in faith

Two weeks ago I was a visiting speaker at one of our local parishes. The two masses (Saturday evening and Sunday morning) were quite different, this had nothing to do with the fact that we had a different priest for each mass. Singing was accompanied by music on Saturday, which always helps me to sing along and not worry about anyone hearing me; Sunday on the other hand was minus a musician. I settled at the back on the end of a pew so I could get out at the prescribed time. I was spotted by a friend and encouraged to join him. After crossing the aisle and greeting him he turned to an elderly couple and said "you can have your seat back now" evidently I had been sat in their pew. I guess I get stuck in a form of worship that has been with me for some time and as much as the mass is the same wherever you go "it isn't"

I spoke about faith, that which we believe - our common faith in God; but more about faith in what can be, and our active part in that process. Sitting and thinking that, if God wanted to He could move that mountain! was not what I had in mind.

In Joshua 3 they were carrying the arc of the covenant and came to the river Jordan (it was in flood) and it was only as their feet stepped out into the water that the upstream stopped flowing, piled up and they crossed over. I chose today's picture because it shows someone stepping out with direction; (a little help from photoshop) the contours of the land are disturbed - as we step forward - changes occur.

After mass I took a copy of Catholic Voice, an interesting article about adult formation and welcoming back those who had left the faith (as we say). There had been a couple of workshops led by the Redemptorists with a good turn out. The main point that came out was "the necessity of superb liturgy that heightens our sense of awe and emphasises the transcendence of God" - Wow, I am up for some of that!

Note to evening office: Be in awe of God in every day things, that we may worship in simplicity and truth.

PS - The book - Chapter one is well on the way.
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Hide and seek

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Squirrels - who's watching who?

Am I that strange?

Dragonfly

.Found yesterday on a ramble with Brother Timothy; I am sure you clever people would give this some amazing Latin name (none of the Latin I know); I just call it beautiful.
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Mist in the hollow, fine day to follow

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That is as maybe, but the mist I saw last night went on to engulf the whole of our coast line. It was a strange sight and not one I can remember seeing before. It was coming up the river mouth until the whole of Middlesbrough, Eston and Redcar was under a blanket of grey. The cloud was so low that you could see the tall industrial chimneys and structures peering over the top and with the sun going down - I couldn't resist hanging out of the side window and taking a couple of shots.

Again I feel I need to apologise for not writing more often and yes I have been out and about a lot; but I miss writing more than you do reading. So, I decided recently to write a book. Now I am going to be realistic and say it will probably take me between 1-2 years and no I have no experience so we will just have to wait and see. It was a few weeks ago when I was talking to a young person and asking what she was going to do with herself over the summer vacation; If I had 8-weeks to do what I liked, I would write a book; (I said without thinking), so why don't you came a voice as I traveled to Kent the other weekend.

Kent was a crazy weekend, meeting up with friends, we were invited down to a local festival and the big event was Music in the Park with tribute bands Abba and Queen. 70's music still gets my feet tapping and I did manage a shuffle in my sandals, we had a great time and the 5 hour journey both ways gave me time to outline the book.

My knee has been playing up recently so I decided it was time for a nice walk on the beach. The weather has been so good (we are really not used to it) and I set a marker in the distance, to where I thought would be a good place to turn around and walk back. The beach was crowded near the town but as I headed off the sounds soon faded. I had seen earlier the drawings and names written in giant size upon the sand as I headed down the cliff steps; I walked through the drawing of a castle, complete with tower, drawbridge and cannon. Stones, sand, seaweed and shells; the sound of the sea, wildlife and wind (oh yes, it is always windy here). The more I saw the more I began to think, the drawings would only last till the next tide although the artists had already left the shore. Shells of creatures long vacated now decorate the beach with their colour and shape. Stones being made into pebbles, washed and ground, chipped and smashed; revealing something new from long long ago. A friend of mine is a geologist and could pick up most of this stuff and give a short lecture on each one. I realised I was walking in a time zone spanning centuries and little me kicking up stones and turning over shells, when they talk about the sands of time I always think of those nice tidy egg timers - but these really are sands of time.

Note to evening office: Help me to see people as stones and shells; unique, and each one has a story.
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