A special day

                                    

I used to make the twenty four hours from Friday evening to Saturday evening very distinctive.  I called it my Sabbath.  It began with a special meal, included times of prayer and was marked by solitude.  

The habit largely fell by the wayside during the pandemic but I want to regain it.  So, on Friday I sorted the house to make it a sanctuary of calm.  I wasn't very interested in food as I ate at lunchtime but next time I will have a light lunch and make sure I can enjoy my supper.  A special meal  with a properly set table and candles makes a definite start to the ritual.

Then an evening spent crocheting.  I'm making a blanket for a little boy whom I hardly know but I hear about him regularly, and as I crocheted I prayed for him and his family, then my prayers widened for children everywhere.  Then they moved inwards again as I thought about my own childhood.

A calm evening led to a calm bedtime and a good night's sleep.  

Saturday I settled again to crochet but I listened to an audiobook, enjoyed the quiet and the time to think.  That verse from Browning's poem, "Rabbi Ben Ezra" kept going through my head.  It reflected the tone of the whole period for me.

Grow old along with me!

The best is yet to be,

The last of life, for which the first was made:

Our times are in His hand

Who saith “A whole I planned,

Youth shows but half; trust God: see all, nor be afraid!”

He's been!

Pot placed in a dull bit of garden

 I looked out of my window at 6.55am and saw a man and a dog.  Millie Dog soon came for a treat and a tickle but Jack was a man with a mission.  And a spray.  So he got on with his job.  And Millie sorted me out.

A small corner well used

We had to delay the bacon butty ritual as I was expecting a Sainsbury delivery which arrived about 7.45am so the great man didn't expire from hunger.  Actually, that would be unlikely as he had eaten his first breakfast at home.  The butty was a mere top-up.  Three thick rashers of (butcher's) back bacon in a large bun.  Milly Dog had another treat.  (She'd had her breakfast before she came, too.)

Poppies allowed to grow and Stulch applied

Anyway, the usual whirlwind has been around my garden.  I've been buying Strulch this year (mineralised straw mulch) and Jack thinks it marvellous as it has reduced the need for weeding considerably, it looks good and will bio-degrade.  I am gradually buying shrubs so that there will be less work in future especially as they will be surrounded with Strulch.  

Veg garden.  (Jack - just a few things for planting next time you come!

And then he  did everything else.  He's taken most of the leaves from the tomato plant to encourage the fruits to mature.  He's weeded the non-strulched areas.  He's picked beans (maybe because he fancied a few!) and sweet peas for me.  He's even got a few tomatoes to take home with him.  

How would I manage without Jack!

My beans are better than the one he's grown at home!

The first day of the month

 

December is the most distinctive of all the months but, at least for English children, August is pretty special too.  A whole month of no school stretching out in front of them.  That could either be wonderful or awful, depending on how each one thinks of school.

My schooldays are long gone, but I still have a whole month to enjoy.  Thirty one days to use as I please.

My plans include a little bit of dog sitting.  Holly Dog has sent an invitation.  

I've got three summer schools to attend on line.  That isn't as onerous as it sounds for each is just one hour a day for a whole week.  Two are on Shakespeare and one is hand embroidery.  All are run by the Women's Institute.  I've done several Shakespeare courses before and these two are on Hamlet and Measure for Measure.  

I've got two short courses too, on drawing and journalling.  These are run each month and are very relaxing.  

I'm hoping to swim if my legs are OK.  I miss my mermaid sessions when I can't go.  

I've plans for several meals out with various friends and relations.  Nothing fancy but fish and chips just might feature.  

I've been invited to a seventieth birthday party for a dear friend.  

And in between times I shall relax, knit, crochet, maybe go out for a few days. 

And maybe write a few blog posts too.  

That was July

 

This has felt like a long month but the end of it came in a rush!  These posts are (inevitably) lists and very self-centered but they are helpful to me for looking back.

It's been a lovely month weather wise and my garden is flourishing.  (I'll do a garden post very soon.)   Jack has been twice.

I've taken services on three Sundays.  I've also hosted four on-line services.  

I've had a go at water colour painting and will have another go soon.  I've also done on line courses on Google maps, iPhone usage, and American current affairs, 

I went swimming just once as, unfortunately, I've had several days in pain but am OK now.  

I had a glorious breakfast out.  This is a treat for myself and a cousin when my car needs servicing.  Then she makes lunch at home but we are both too full to eat much!  And another friend and her husband invited me to their house for lunch.   I had a trip to our local ice cream parlour and we had a tasting.  It would have been rude to refuse any of these invitations..  

Now, what will August hold?

The Cooker

Not Mother's but the same era!

When I was a little girl Mother had a cooker.  A gas cooker.  A pre-war jobby and a bit of a monstrosity by today's standards.  Cleaning just the hob (which had to be totally dismantled for the job) seemed to take forever, as I remember.  

She had a big silver kettle on that cooker so she could make tea as needed.  There was an eye level grill, useful for toast.  But that was it.  Everything was cooked on the cooker.

I have a double oven.  And a hob.  Both easy to clean.  And an electric kettle.  And a toaster, rarely used these days as I rarely eat toast.  But I also have a microwave.  And an air fryer.  There's an Instant Pot too as well as a bread maker and a slow cooker.  

And of course I have a fridge, a freezer, food processor, electric whisk, blitzer.  And a dishwasher.  

How on earth did Mother manage?

(I don't know.  But I do know that she bought me my first dishwasher and my first freezer as she was determined that I wouldn't have to do the same as her!)

What's in a name?

I used to be Rector of a hamlet called Spital in the Street.  Sounds revolting but it was originally a Hospital on the Street.  We're talking place of hospitality for travellers going along Ermine Street to the Shrine of St Hugh at Lincoln.  

Lincolnshire has some wonderful place names.  People who went over to America took place names with them.  We have the original Boston.  We've got a New York too.

Comedians seem to like our place names too.  You may have come across Mavis Enderby in Bridget Jones Diary but she has her place in this county.  

And when comedian James Rogers wanted a stage name he chose the name of a Lincolnshire village.  Boothby Graffoe. 

Sad but lovely day

Yesterday I went to Thoresway church to say goodbye to Claire.  

Claire has been in Market Rasen for eight years, first as curate and then as their vicar and has been much loved by all the Market Rasen Group of four parishes.  When the Priest in Charge of the Walesby Group left three years ago he was not replaced so Claire took on a further ten parishes.  She has been the only paid cleric for fourteen parishes for these last two and a half years.  There are a lot of trained ministers (including me) helping her, fortunately!

She said goodbye at Market Rasen last week and The Walesby Group yesterday.  (Last week we clergy took her out for lunch which all of us enjoyed!)  It was an emotional service as she has been very well loved and will be sadly missed but she is going to another parish in this Diocese and will doubtless be much loved there too.

The end of the service was especially emotional and she gave us all God's blessing.  What she didn't know was that E, a non-stipendiary priest in that group and M (that's me!) had planned on sending her off with God's blessing so there were tears as she knelt and we laid our hands on her head.

May her new parishe be as richly blessed through ministry as we have.  

Keeping Sunday special

 It was when I was writing about harvesting going on into the evening until there was no more light that I remembered that Grandad never allowed harvesting on a Sunday.  No matter how things were going, Sunday was a day of rest, at least from arable work.  The animals still had to be fed, milked and cared for, of course.

On Sunday the focus was on the home.  Sunday dinner (lunch) was the culinary highlight of the week.  It was usually roast beef and Yorkshire pudding with vegetables from the garden.  Grandma made the best gravy I have ever tasted.  Even the horseradish sauce was homemade for horseradish was a rather vigorous weed.  

It would be followed by a fruit pie, apple, rhubarb or plum.  These were the fruits grown in the garden so those were the fruits we ate.  It was served with cream from the farm cows.  

For my grandparents tinned food was a rarity and grandma would open a small tin of salmon and make sandwiches for Sunday tea.  There would be home made plum bread (a Lincolnshire fruit loaf), cakes, pastries and a purchased Swiss roll, again a special pleasure for grandad.

After tea we would go to the little chapel in the village.  My grandparents were Methodists.  It was a bit of an ordeal for me as any children present were expected to sing a hymn to be listened to by the adults and I never knew the hymns chosen for us.

I was happy to go to chapel though, as I knew that after chapel we would go to Cleethorpes for a walk along the front and a local ice cream.