A Bit of a Wobble

So. A bit of a wobble today. Didn't go to the consultation. Couldn't face a Burns Night party either. Will settle down with the books and try to get some sleep this time, as I'm on early in the morning.

New Links

Also used the sleepless time to take a blue pen (or pair of scissors? which simile?) to the Blog Roll and Book Shelf lists. Some of the blogs I haven't looked at for a bit; several have disappeared (!?);some new ones on writing, particularly Stella Duffy, might be interesting. I lurve Lucy Mangan's stuff! An eclectic/eccentric collection, i agree. Don't make too many assumptions about me from these lists (like, I'm not gay, or blonde, or have small children, or am a member of a Catholic religious order or anything). And I enjoy reading them; I don't necessarily agree with them; they make me think. Try one and see what you can find.

Dignity at Work

I see that I haven’t posted under my “roaring” label for a couple of months. Does that mean all is well? Well, no not really. I’m just trying to get on with the rest of my life. Last week a couple of barbed comments after church included the statements “You priests are supposed to be the most caring people in the world, but you don’t care really!” and “You have ruined our church with that thing!” (a nave altar, approved experimentally by a large majority of the church council), plus the inevitable “lots of people feel the same way; I’m the only one who will say anything!” Not easy to relax in people’s company when that sort of thing can come at you out of the blue. Doesn’t make me want to go to a social event, or stick around drinking coffee after Sunday services.

Several things occur to me. First, most of you don’t know me. Maybe I am uncaring. Maybe I really am “lazy”. Perhaps I should just accept that I’m “unpopular”. I can tell you that I say my prayers, put in the hours, prepare worship carefully, follow up pastoral requests, spend time on my sermons, seem to get on well with people. But you don’t know.

And there is inconsistency here too. For example, I don’t think that I can both “force through” unpopular ideas and “railroad” the church council, as well as being “weak and vacillating”. Words like “steam-rolling” generally indicate the attitude of the speaker towards the event, policy or project; no-one describes the idea of a visit to Iona or setting up a childrens holiday club as having been “steam-rollered”, yet it gets far less consideration or discussion than a nave altar. (The words in quotes have all been addressed to me in public or private by members of one congregation during the past year.)

I’ve read through the Church of England report “Dignity at Work”, which came out last year but doesn’t seem to have seen much of the light of day since then. It offers the following definition of “unacceptable behaviour”:

“Any behaviour always involving a misuse of power which an individual or group knows, or ought reasonably to know, could have the potential effect of offending, humiliating, intimidating or isolating an individual or group”.

The suggestions put forward in the report, all about policies and discussions in synods and councils, and the appointment of advisors and arbitrators, are all fine in so far as they go. But at the end of the day, conscientious and caring individuals trying to do difficult and demanding work can be left in very isolated situations amongst people who do not behave well towards them. And, as I’ve said before, it is shameful that the Church is having to take advice from, and use models developed by, secular voluntary organizations and trade unions, when it should instead be offering a beacon of good practice to the world.

At least “Dignity at Work” takes a stronger position than one colleague who I began to talk to about what I was experiencing. He told me “the role of the priest is to be crucified”. I utterly reject that view. I know too that ministers have to be prepared to be “lightning conductors” for all kinds of bad stuff that people project at times of bereavement or crisis; but that should not be given as a general excuse for bad behaviour.

It’s not just me. We have a curate, who has tried out lots of imaginative new ideas and new ways of doing things, only to be told, in effect, we don’t want that sort of thing here. The treasurer said in finance committee that if the council voted to fund her project, he would resign (railroading?) When we had problems with the heating system last year, and when the sound system wasn’t working properly, people were wagging their fingers in the faces of the volunteer church officers responsible for these things. We’re not likely to find replacements for those who quite understandably get fed up with that sort of treatment. It’s time it stopped.

The Spiral Staircase

I have had two nights of insomnia, brain racing, pulse racing, heart pounding, deafening tinnitus. I think the reason is the consultation meeting taking place today. You may know the sort of thing, where an organization invites its members to consider what the organization will look like in five or ten years time. I used to enjoy such occasions, and have facilitated many for community and voluntary organizations. Now, when someone says “Where will we be in 2015?”, my answer is “Walking the dog on a towpath somewhere, heading for the pub, I hope!”. The whole idea of taking part, the groups, the questions, fills me with dread. So I didn’t go.

I'm making rapid progress through "The Dog Listeneer". And I’ve begun to read Karen Armstrong’s memoir “The Spiral Staircase”. Written four or five years ago, it is the story of her life from the point at which she left the enclosed religious order she had joined at the age of seventeen. January 1969. As Karen Armstrong was leaving one religious institution, I was having the first conversations about joining a different one, the Church of England priesthood. I shall enjoy reading her account, and no doubt more discussion of the parallels.

iLove my iPod!

I generally don't get excited about techie things and I know that Apple don't need any help with publicity from me, but how good is an iPod! I love it! I can take my entire music collection with me, in my top pocket, on a train journey, or on the boat, and it's all there to choose from! And "shuffle" is great, because I'm listening to stuff I haven't listened to for ages, and I get surprises with what comes up. I love it!

The Dog Listener

I’m also working hard on the psychology. The canine psychology, that is, with the Dog Listener, Jan Fennell. I’ve got a pile of books to read, and I think there’ll be an exam next week when Mrs D gets back from her shifts. The psychology makes a lot of sense, I have to say, working with the dog as still, essentially, a pack animal descended from the wolf, rather than some sort of furry version of a human child. The idea is to establish that it is you, the human, the owner, who must be the leader of the pack. The four questions each dog owner should ask themselves every day are, apparently:

When the pack reunites after a separation, who is the boss? (Each time you come home)
When the pack goes on a hunt, who is going to lead them? (Each time you go for a walk)
When the pack eats its food, what order do they eat in? (You first, dog next)
When the pack is under attack, who is going to protect them? (That’s you as well)

I hope the SMD has read the same book. Nine days to puppydom.

Doggy Heaven

According to the literature, leaving mother and siblings is an immensely traumatic experience for the young puppy. If that’s the case, then the Small Manageable Dog will at least probably assume that after the trauma it has died and gone to heaven. The front porch is now half full of a massive dog crate, big enough for a St Bernard, which Mrs Demon found last week at the car boot sale. She came back triumphantly with not one, but two, crates. The other will fit in the car and on the boat. Since then she has been busy with the soft furnishings, and the crate is fitted out with a very beautiful set of bedding in lemon yellow with small blue flowers (What? Stop sniggering at the back there!) and there is a big bag of toys, chews, bowls, leads, collars, and pretty much everything else that a puppy could possibly ever think it might need, if it ever thought about it. Ten days to puppydom.

Some of the things I plan to do

Haven’t done a list for ages, so here’s one, of some of the things I plan to do with my years of happy, relaxed and fulfilling retirement:

- Take our boat over the Pennines by canal
- Complete a Sudoku
- Train the dog
- Take a train through India
- Finish the Guardian Quick Crossword
- Write a book
- Get a note or two out of a saxophone

480 days.

W

Missed a private showing of the Oliver Stone film of Dubya’s life and times, set up by Number Two Son. Boo, hiss! I had to get back for a funeral. Mrs Demon and various friends attended. He tells me that I shall probably miss “Frost/Nixon”, because it will get pulled, as only 20 people turned up on the first night, as opposed to 300 for some Hollywood rubbish next door, and “Revolutionary Road” might not stay long either. What is wrong with these people? Got the novel from Waterstones, plus a copy of “Q & A”, Vikram Swarup’s original novel which became “Slumdog Millionaire”, so look forward to reading that.

iDidIt!

Our whole music collection is now copied into iTunes, all 653 albums. Last week Mrs Demon, always with an eye for a bargain, found an iPod Classic, plus free docking station, in a sale offer in town. So last night was spent putting the whole lot in, which apparently is called syncing, a new word I’m not sure I like. Anyway, after only a few glitches, delays, inexplicable twists and turns of capricious fate, the whole system is set up, and our music collection is truly portable. All done by 2 am. It would have been a lot quicker if we’d had a ten year old available. I’m not much for technology, but I do like the iPod; a very beautiful machine.

So, my Cunning Plan is coming together!

The Darjeeling Limited

Another film about India that we watched on DVD. The title is the name of one of India’s long distance trains, and is the story of three brothers finding their mother, each other and themselves. Wes Anderson is a super director, and this is one of those films you immediately want to rewind and watch again, because more will be revealed on the second and third viewings. Great stuff.

Slumdog Millionaire

Wow. What a good film. Go see it if you can. If you liked Oliver Twist, you'll love this! Superbly scripted and plotted. Even though, I have to say, I got many of the plot constructions and twists, it was exciting and entertaining. Beautifully filmed in Mumbai and other parts of India. We watched it with a friend who has spent time in India traveling by train and motorcycle, and it urged us on to go and do the same when we have more time from next year.

Things that Cling 2

I see that writing in the last post “clearing a space upstairs” glosses over rather a lot of preparatory work. The space is the Third Man’s room. You don’t here much about the Third Man, because he lives and works away now. He is away, but a lot of his stuff is still here. But his room is the best one for having enough space to decant all the stuff from the other, crowded rooms, in order to spread it out, sort it , get rid of what we don’t want, and do some packing. It really is going to take a year, working on it off and on. So all the Man’s music equipment (he has virtually set up an recording studio in there) has been packed and sorted to give us the space.

It also means sorting out some of his “other stuff”. The collection of odd socks in one of the drawers. The fifty (there are exactly fifty, I counted them), the fifty Pot Noodle cartons, all washed and neatly stacked in a wobbly tower. By the sink is a yellow car licence plate: J457DAB. Is it yours? Please arrange collection, or it’s going to the tip.

Viva Espaniel!

We can now reveal that as part of the Exit Strategy, we WILL be taking on a dog again, after twenty years without one, and that it WILL be the result of a union between a very sweet border terrier (mum)



and a wonderfully calm and obedient (though randy) working cocker spaniel (dad)



which has produced this delightful bunch ...



... one of whom will be joining us in a few weeks.

Harolldd!!!

I’ve been going around in a Thinsulate hat, fingerless gloves, several jumpers and a body-warmer, plus several other layers that cannot be seen by the casual observer. Nothing unusual in that, but this was inside the house. I came along the upstairs passage, and was surprised to see Albert Steptoe coming the other way. But it was just me, in the wardrobe mirror.

Things that Cling

So we’ve made a start on the down-sizing, clearing an area upstairs for sorting, packing and deciding on disposal. Not an easy project for us to embark upon together, as one of us is a squirrel and the other is an, erm, a, well, an animal that likes to throw things away. But, needs must.

One of the first problems of down-sizing is dealing with the stuff that you know you have to get rid of, but you’ve had it for so long, you really find it hard to make that decision. These are not necessarily things that you use. Or even things that still work. But they are things that have become a part of the background of your life.

The last time I counted, we had six TV sets. This is odd, because we don’t really watch much TV. None of them are much good. Out here the reception is poor, and half the time you can’t see what you’re watching, which is annoying if it’s the one programme that week that you really want to see. In a couple of years, the government tells us, all our tellies will be useless, as they will have switched off the signal. This will include our little black and white portable Sony. It still works with the original aerial, a hoop of wire, stuck in the top. It prefers upstairs to downstairs. It’s thirty-five years old now. We bought it the week Edward Heath got chucked out of Downing Street and Harold Wilson returned. This was soon after we got married. We agonized over buying it, as we thought it might change the way we lived. (It didn’t). For similar reasons, we don’t have a TV on our boat, and don’t plan to get one.

The little Sony set was our only TV for some years, until the boys were born, and we realized that we would have to get a) a bigger screen and b) colour. But we kept the Sony as a back-up. Later it became an early computer monitor, and then a games console. Then it just got forgotten in a cupboard. Out it came last week, and, with a pile of other stuff, we said our goodbyes, and thank yous, and off it went to the tip for recycling.

The Great Frost

The Great Frost, which has recently Afflicted our Nation, causing great Inconvenience and Consternation, has now lifted, to the Relief of the Entire Population. Now Rivers and Streams are swollen with rain, and a Great Wind is blowing, bringing down the trees and Disturbing our Sleep.

Roll on Spring.

Happy New Year 2

So. It is now 500 days until my sixtieth birthday. The Exit Strategy has begun! Having worked out a place to store our stuff we can now begin to think about a life afloat. When the Magic Bus returns from the body shop we’ll have something to use to move things. And then there is matter of the Small Manageable Dog … where a decision is expected any day now.

I broke the news of my not too impending departure to the churchwardens group. No-one threw their hats in the air; no-one burst into tears. This is the countryside, though, and news travels fast. Several people spoke to me after a funeral today, and said that it had come as a surprise, but that they understood. And when I gave them an outline of what we might do, they got quite enthusiastic. So, although “Happy New Year” is being said by many more in hope than expectation, we have a plan, and it’s forward looking, and we’ll keep you in the loop as things develop.

Happy New Year!

Not naturally an optimist, and given the background against which we all live, and despite the cold, I'd like to wish you all a Very Happy New Year! More reflection will follow, together with some attempt at getting a handle on 2009, but that comes later. All the very best, folks!