Rusk woke me up (a rare happening in itself – it usually takes a mighty stramash to pierce the depths of sleep) at 5am today, well at 4.59 to be precise. Waking when there is a 4 in the hour seems so much more extreme than a minute later would have been. After taking ages to get back to sleep, the snooze button on my alarm was well and truly abused until I looked at the clock and there was only 5 minutes before morning prayer, at Church, 2 minutes walk away. Not a great start to the day. I am leading prayers this week – who knows what or who I prayed for during the intercessions, but my incumbent didn’t raise eyebrows too much, so it can’t have been too random.
The meeting with the local Methodist minister followed on straight afterwards. My incumbent is getting used to my first thing in the morning, after a disturbed night, bleariness, so fed me toast and decaff until I looked more human. Lovely man!
General admin until lunchtime followed this, then the final week of the Lent courses, with a bread and cheese (really good cheese – brie, wensleydale and stilton) lunch. The conclusion to the course was to try and persuade people to view PCC (parochial church council = church meeting) meetings as a time to integrate the gifts of the Spirit, that we see in those around us, with the opportunites in the community. i.e. start by recognising gifts and only then plan strategy, avoid starting projects when you don’t have the people to run it effectively. We looked at the beginning of Luke 10 and an interesting question was raised: why do we (i.e. the CofE) persevere with ministry to every community when there must be some where there is no welcome there? Why don’t we do as Jesus taught the seventy and shake the dust from our feet and walk away?
Evening prayer was just me, so after praying the office, I spent some time reading Thomas Merton – The Seven Storey Mountain. I like autobiography, but he comes across as so arrogant and rude, particularly towards the Anglican Church (although the passage I read today had a rather scathing account of the Quakers). I’m persevering with it a bit at a time, mostly because of the picture of him on the front cover. He is such a smiley person – it will be interesting to see the influences on him becoming a monk. I’ve only got to the beginning of his time at university at the moment – some way to go.
Now I’ve just got some hymns to pick for Monday’s Tenebrae service and then I might have a bit of a go at the next Settlers level.
Before I went back to tag my previous post, I had a list of various things to post about, but they have now all escaped my mind. Here are some things I wasn’t going to post about, due to lack of interest.
- Raisins are a very good strategy for getting your toddler through the quiet bits of church
- My baby sling still works with Rusk, but climbing hills is not a trivial matter
- Does a toddler make a specified amount of noise per day? Having kept quiet in church, Rusk then shouted very loudly through lunch to make up for it
- For the liturgy geeks among you – spotted a rather clever use of the versicles and responses in mattins – using them as responses at the end of longer intercessions
- Every time I type something my sister (whose room I am using to avoid waking R) stirs in her sleep. Time for bed methinks
5 weeks worth of the Church Times had a not unexpected effect and so I spent the afternoon asleep under a pile of newsprint. I have got two weeks done so now only 3 weeks behind.
It is a little bizarre reading the news from a month ago. There were some very excited speculation about the American elections that I found it difficult to get into. Something about knowing the end of the story there I think.
I’m thinking of making a stand that will hold newspapers at a suitable angle and distance for when Rusk falls asleep on my lap.
In other news… I have decided that at some point it would be useful to have a device for winding skeins of wool into balls. Do any of my knitting readers have any advice on such a contraption? Bonus points if it can also hold a copy of the Church Times.
Well, I was thinking that it might be a good idea to use up a spare hour or two at college to write my blog. However, I had overlooked the small point that screens in the computer room can all be seen from the door and I do not want to give up my anonymity just yet. I am therefore typing in a word processor, and will paste it in at a later date. There, you see, my brain still works even after only six hours sleep. I would nap this afternoon, but I have my contacts in, so must stay awake.
Thanks to Daisy for the link to the bookshelf photographing meme (see comments in previous post). I may have a go at that at some point in the future.
I’m sure, when I started typing this, I had a lot of stuff to say, but it has all gone. In the words of the inept waitress from Victoria Wood: As seen on TV (I think):
It’s cream of…
… no, I’ve forgotten.
Oh how we laughed, and still are laughing about ten years later.
I am just talking rubbish now – I will continue later.
I think it is time that I visited the library and planned my reading for the next few weeks.
Well I am now really cross with that Thunderstorm I mentioned, so cross that I clearly feel it merits a capital letter. Sleep patterns are now very skewed and although I have been at work for 4 hours, it feels as if I should only just be waking up. Hopefully, if I can stay awake until 10, I’ll get a reboot and be back to normal. Meanwhile, I have been a very good customer at the coffee shop today.
On the plus side, while I was awake last night I completed a Samurai Sudoku (you know the ones, five puzzles all linked together in an x shape) for the first time. I may have to get it framed.
Weather rant over – in case you hadn’t guessed, I’m English!
It is Saturday and I am enjoying the sheer luxury of a whole day to myself. I am in the middle of a two week stint of being home alone at the moment, for the first time in about 4 years. Obviously, I am missing Mr Farli, probably increasingly so as the week goes on, but having this thinking space is lovely.
My perfect day of self-indulgence began somewhat earlier than I had intended. I was woken at 2.30am by the LOUDEST thunderstorm I have ever heard. In my rather befuddled state I staggered round unplugging modems and suchlike things, which woke me up enough to stay awake for the next hour. I wouldn’t mind, but I thought thunderstorms were supposed to clear the air. It is still just as oppressive today as it was before.
After a bit more of a snooze, I drove out to throw myself into battle in the Next summer sale. Oh how I hate clothes shopping, but when I do go shopping I end up buying most things from Next, so I feel that I really ought to make the effort with the sale. The only thing I really liked was a top I already owned and I was just too exhausted to make decisions so my wallet came home just as heavy as it went out. I am sure I will get brownie points for this at a later date.
So I had another snooze, having come home by this point. There weren’t any beds in Next, otherwise I might well have stopped to clock up a few Zs there and then.
I seem to have digressed somewhat. I’m sure I had something specific in mind to write. Ah yes, how the blog got its name.
On reflection, after having chosen Cabbages and Kings as the blog title, I thought I should perhaps explain that I am not intending to discuss the brassica family, or monarchy, on a regular basis. If I am stuck for what to write about, you never know – you might get lucky. I don’t know very much about either so it won’t be too much in depth. A friend of mine from about 10 years ago had the quote from the Walrus and the Carpenter as an answering machine message and it just stuck with me. So there you have it.