Gone Cruising

As the rain continues to lash down, and flu stalks the land, two intrepid boaters prepare their vessel for a journey down the Severn starting tomorrow. Those who know our track record for weather conditions while boating are best advised to stay in doors. Back later.

We have a spare room

We have a spare room! We had one in 1983, and now we've got one again. The Dude having moved out, we can really get cracking on our down-sizing. What was his room is now largely clear, and will be used as a transit area for boxes. Next to that, we now have a spare room. this is a spare room in the original meaning of the term; a room which is spare; none of our clutter of years left in it; basic furniture, a bed, chair, wardrobe and dressing table. Any single guests coming to Demon Towers in the next few months will get the chance to use it. I love it. i go and sit in it. It's very peaceful, like a room in a traditional bed and breakfast, or a good retreat house.

While unending ages run

Two cathedral services on consecutive Sundays; that's some kind of record for me these days. the seond one was an ordination, and much better than the previous event. OK, the vestments had seen better days, and one of the senior clerics looked like he was wrapped in the living room carpet; and the sermon was, shall we say, a little retro- one wondered if the developments in ministerial theory and practice of the last forty years had actually happened. Also, there was major restoration and stonework going on, so the chancel was full of red and white cones and plastic barriers, festooned with health and safety notices, so it was a bit like worshipping on an M25 contraflow; but hey!we all had a great time, all the candidates were radiant, the sun shone and we were out in just over an hour and a half!

Consubstantial coeternal

I went off to the cathedral for the bishop's farewell. They are often very moving occasions. I remember one where, at the end of a wonderful service, the bishop simple took off his beautiful colourful vestments, and left the building informally just in his white alb, holding hands with his wife smiling and chatting. (Free at last! Free at Last! Thank God, free at last!) I was hopeful of something like this, but was somewhat disappointed.

On arrival, the organ was already thundering. Now I'm OK with most organ music, and I like quiet organ background when people are coming in, so that we can get ready for worship quietly. This guy had all the stops out already. This meant that the assembling congregation greeted one another with cheery bellowing, and yelled at their friends across the aisles. Boys with their toys. A small man with a big organ. This did not put me in a good mood for what followed.

We went along at a cracking pace to start with. This was encouraging, as I don't like the current Anglican trend that if something is considered important, it must take a long time. The sermon was amazing, preached by the outgoing bishop, but all about priorities for the future, as if he had only just arrived, rather than he was finishing in two days time.

When we got to the offertory, things took a turn for the worse. As well as the customary elements of bread and wine for the eucharist, and the collected offerings of the people, a set of garden furniture appeared. The bishop, in full eucharist vestments,was seated rather self-consciously on a cedarwood recliner, with his wife sitting awkwardly beside him. Speeches of appreciation then began. Cheques were handed over. More thanks. Then a reply by the bishop. One and half hours, and we had not yet reached the consecration.

Things slowed to a crawl. Even in a parish church the Anglican way of distributing communion can take a long time. In a cathedral it can seem like an eternity. At one point a woman with a small crying baby went past. Blimey, I thought. people are being born and dying while we're all in here!

After more than two hours I'd almost lost the will to live. At the end, against a background of blaring organ, everyone was lining up to leave by one door, and having a word with the retiring couple on the way out, like one of those wedding receptions where everyone is filing in to the marquee, dying for a drink, but you have to say hello to the happy couple and the parents first. It was going to take at least another half an hour to get out that way, so I scouted round the back and found another exit, out into the cloisters for some air, and a bit of peace and quiet.

I got picked up by the Mormons

Oh missus! That must have been painful! Make your eyes water, that would! Yes, yes, enough. I really was subject to an evangelistic approach by the Latter Day Saints. On Peterborough station in broad daylight. It was bit creepy, because the guy was young, American, and quite hunky. i thought at first this was some kind of bold-as-brass gay pick-up thing. Then I noticed the LDS label on his shirt pocket. By then we were already into the routine. It went like this.

Hunky Latter Day Saint Evangelist- That's a nice hat.
Me- Thank you.
HLDSE- Is it foreign?
Me- No, it's English. It's an Osprey.
HLDSE- It suits you.
Me- Thanks.
HLDSE- Do you think about God at all?
Me- Some.
HLDSE- Would you like to see my church?
Me- No, I'm getting this train to Birmingham New Street.
HLDSE- So am I!
Me- But I'm going to be in a different carriage. Goodbye.

Hit any key to continue

I think my computer got a virus. Probably the swine flu again. But it's OK now. Or at least I've found a way to live with it. So there's a few posts to come before Mrs Demon and I take to the waterways for a bit of a cruise next Monday. Oink! Oink!

Oh Mr Porter!

I'm about to consign my mortal body into the hands of Britain's rail franchise operators, to travel from the hilly wet bit to the flat sunny bit. Then several hours in one of our lovely cathedrals for an ordination service. More next week, if I survive.

A day of reflection

It is, finally, hot and sunny up here. We have had grey and rain for days while many of you have been basking. I have felt left out of the weather forecasts since about the beginning of last week. There are lies, damned lies, statistics, and weather forecasts.

I'm not sure if there's any kind of record for the number of anniversaries on or about one day, but this is my record day, or, strictly speaking, two days. Yesterday was the fortieth anniversary of my attending selection for Church of England ministry. About 20 of us were locked away in a conference centre in Northumberland. I remember watching bits of the Investiture of the Prince of Wales on a colour TV in the lounge (we didn't have a colour TV at home). Yesterday was also the day when I was ordained as a deacon, thirty six years ago. Thirty five years ago today I was ordained a priest, and twenty seven years ago yesterday the Dude was born, rather earlier than expected.

At the moment I'm in a darkened room, thinking. I had planned to write about all of this, as part of the purpose of this blog, but the energy levels are so low, it's not really coming. Today is quiet. yesterday was supposed to be, but wasn't. We have another suicide to cope with, the second in the parish in three weeks, though not as dramatic as the first. The events are unconnected. But people are feeling very raw. Members of our ministry team were involved in the discovery. So rather than having time to dwell on the past, I'm busy dealing with the present and trying to support them.

As always, clergy celebrate their anniversaries at the same time as new clergy are being ordained, and I'm getting ready to haul myself over to the other side of the country for an ordination service this coming weekend.

It's luurrve 2

The SMD also loves the Magic Bus. While Mrs Demon was on night duty we snuck off for a night up in the hills, just the two of us. Whenever I open the bus doors, to put things away, or just to let the heat out, the SMD is in there, looking expectant; "Come on! Let's go on a trip!" If I fail to start up and drive off, she stays there anyway, sprawled out on the rug (she also loves rugs).