Pews and stalls

 As you know I am retired.  Although I have been in demand for taking services in the eleven years since I retired I am gradually taking a back seat or rather a seat in the pews rather than the stalls.

Today I went to St Mary's Church at Claxby, high on the Lincolnshire Wolds.  It's a church where I have celebrated the Eucharist many times but today I was in the congregation while Revd Elaine took the service.  It's quite an odd feeling: it was good to sit and enjoy the worship without worrying if everyone is OK but I was well aware that Revd Elaine would be dashing off to another church to lead worship and normally I could have relieved her of one service.

But she was helped by Kathy a Reader in training.  In the Church of England we call our lay preachers Readers.  Kathy is getting towards the end of her Reader training and today she preached the sermon.  A long time ago she asked me to be one of her special supporters so I pray for her, and, from time to time I check on her.   Today I was helping her by listening carefully to her sermon so I can give her some feedback.

In eight weeks Kathy will be admitted to the Order of Readers.  As a sign of her office she will wear a blue scarf over her cassock and surplice.  She'll be great!

So, what happened?

 Jack came yesterday.  He'd read my blog and so had warning that I'd gone rogue and put some hanging baskets in the garden.  So, what did he do?

The first job was to fix a new hosepipe for me.  The old one had split on Sunday, drenching me.  New hose installed and tested.

My little fountain hasn't worked for a few years but I'd bought a new solar pump so he set that up for me.  It's only tiny but I like the tinkling sound it makes.

The veg patch needed a major clear out ready for winter planting.  That got done.  He brought in cabbages, potatoes and onions but there are still chard, carrots, beetroot etc out there.

He's made me a garden table so that was set up and used.

But the really important question is, what about the hanging baskets?

They were allowed to stay.  So I fed him home made soup with home made bread.  I think he went home happy so we can all breathe again. 

 Phew!

I've said it before and I'll say it again . .

 . . . I live in a lovely town!

Caistor is a very small town with less than 3000 inhabitants so some would call it a village.  Whatever you call it, it is lovely.  

Even the estate agents 

have pretty signs. 

I've just been to church and I spoke to everyone I met on the way there and even got a "woof" from a couple of dogs.  I crossed a road just as a car was turning in but he stopped for me and gave me a cheery wave and , "You're welcome!" when I waved and shouted, "Thank you!"  No grumpy motorists here.  

A dog walker kept his dog away from me and the trundle truck (the dog sometimes gets a treat from me) and we too swapped our "Thank you" and "You're welcome!"

And just to show how gorgeous it is, here are more of our lovely public flower displays.