More about dung

I've been thinking about Ezekiel. It sounds a bit like a Monty Python sketch to me.

Ezekiel and another prophet comparing their experiences.
Other prophet, "God told me to walk in my donkey's dung."
"That's nothing. God told me to cook my dinner on burned human dung."

Maybe one day they'll find another Dead Sea scroll and, in this one, Ezekiel will have to eat dung.

* * * * *

Oh, yes, it's our 48th wedding anniversary today!

Take a bit of human excrement

So that's another face to add to my, "Turn it off!" list. Which may sound tame but is actually me screaming at the television and desperately looking for the remote to change channels.

Smirking Smug Arrogant Andy joins Tr**p and Fa***e there.

It seems there won't even be a contest for the Labour leadership and SSAA will just walk into position. So much for democracy. Still so angry.

* * * * *

Lovely gathering on the sea front for Zac's last night.

The other half were behind me. We're a mixed bunch of odd bods. Monty, the one lying down, was leading. When he arrived he asked me, "Who's leading?"

"You are."

"Really?! This week. I thought it was next week."

Fortunately Monty is is the sort of man who can do an impromptu talk. We're doing a short series on favourite or interesting bible characters, so he talked about Ezekiel, who apparently had to lie on his side for 390 days and bake bread on a fire of human excrement. (Though when Ezekiel grumbled about defiled food God let him use cow dung instead.)

That led on to a discussion about what God had called any of us to do that intimidated us, that we didn't want to do.

* * * * *

Temperatures due to hit their highs in the next two days so schools have closed, and we'll be expecting grandchildren around to take advantage of the pool. I might suggest we head to the sea front for high tide for a swim there too.

Honestly, how does anyone do anything in this weather? 

Says she who's off to Rebound exercise class later. But you know, people who have to wear suits, or work outdoors. 

Bright Bee

Hmm, perhaps I should have left it as it was! But it's fine. There's a corner of garden where it's possible for dogs to get out so I'm going to put Mr Bee there to scare them!

Hygienist was okayish. At one point I was cringing so much she put away the drill and got out an old-fashioned hand scraper.

Exercise class this morning in the church hall at 26 degrees - I can't work out how to do superscript - but it was a very downgraded class to allow for the temperature. We seem to be leaping from being ridiculously hot (for this country) to being ridiculously cold (for the summer). All in the course of a day. 

And I'm just getting a funny eye for the second time today so I'm giving this a break.

Don't get in my way today!

I am in a bad mood.

My last appointment with the hygienist was canclled so I re-arranged it for this morning. I got there - a 25 minute drive - to be told it was cancelled.
"Yes, I know she cancelled my last one."
"No, this one is cancelled too."

Apparently she tried to phone me on Friday. I very rarely check my phone. I am going back this afternoon. She only works Mondays and Fridays as it is.

I come home to find Sir Keir Starmer has resigned. Driven out by a handful of MPs and the media. I don't blame him. Why put up with all the stress? He'll probably walk into a well-paid, less-mean job easily, but the country won't.

Okay, take more deep breaths.

Look at my latest posy.

I am taking the sweet pea principle of picking to encourage more flowers to bloom, and applying it to wallflowers and pinks. We shall see.

Pulling up outside the house I could see a retriever bouncing along the road. "Oh George!" I thought for an instant before remembering, well, it's been four years now.

It's been a long few days. Let's see how much I can remember of it.

Friday I was in Rough Edges for Day 2 of the closing down sale. Saturday morning I went along to an Eco Market where a young woman from church had a stall selling her paintings. From there I went straight to the art workshop.

I was sitting next to a chatty older man called Eric. He was very pleasant.

The more I look at my cockerel the less I like it. I needed to be freer in my expression. Eric's looked nothing like mine - or like anybody else's - but had so much life in it.

Home briefly then off to childmind for GrandSons 1 and 3. Took them for a curry then spent the evening playing snooker. I am proud to announce that I not only potted at least three red balls, I even potted a brown one! I should mention this was during the course of three games.

Sunday morning it was into the prison for the service. One of a group of visiting chaplains from the Caribbean told the men about how much he had hated his father. He'd even bought a machete and 9" blade knife to kill him with. I'd like to say it all ended well and it did, insofar as he did make a sort of peace with his father, but then his father died.

There was a good point to this story for Father's Day, about God's grace and love, and the men really appreciated it. It was an emotional time.

Then off to Rough Edges where I thought it might be quiet - but it wasn't. Before home for a family meal, and playing cricket with GrandSon3. I'm the only one who weakens and says, "Yes, okay, I'll play with you."

Rounded off the endless longest day cooling down with a swim that turned into a waterfight with GrandSon3.

Oh yes, somewhere along the way I brought home from RE a Lakeland cakebaker to try out. Cakes were ready in 15 minutes, start to finish, but were a bit chewy and heavy.

I also brought this little bee home.

I'm going to paint him and hide him in a corner.

P.S. I'm not in a bad mood any more. Though I will be when I have to drive through school traffic to get back to the dentist this afternoon.

George and the bird

Back in 2010 we used to scatter George's food all over the floor. (Why? I'll have to look that up. Was it after he'd seen the therapist?*)

And one day I watched as a bird walked behind his back and started eating his food. 

This is what happens when I start going through old photos.

* It was. She said he was very intelligent and needed challenges.

Rant incoming

So Andy Burnham won the by-election, as expected and I am irrationally angry.

Irrational because there's nothing I can do about it. I have emailed my MP asking for his assurance that he will be supporting Sir Keir Starmer but I don't think he will. The last time I wrote to him about it his reply was suitably vague. And as a Labour Party member I will be casting my vote for Keir Starmer, but, for now, I can only rant.

Burnham resigns his job as Mayor of Manchester, in order to stand for election to parliament in a by-election that needn't have happened, simply to challenge the sitting Prime Minister. Why? Because he is our self-proclaimed saviour. Only he can save the country.

It's just unbelievably arrogant. I could go on for ages about this but I'd only be repeating myself.

Strangely when Jesus came to the world it was not with a fanfare; he didn't proclaim himself as the saviour. Quite the opposite in fact. He came humbly. He did what he had to do so quietly that most of the world, even many his own countrymen, didn't know about him. 

And to be fair, even superheroes prefer anonymity.

I'm not the Prime Minister's biggest fan. I've not always agreed with his words or actions but he's getting the job done. And this performance by Burnham, designed to cause division, has me spitting.

It's a good job the first big 4-day closing down sale of Rough Edges is on today and I'm assisting. Get some proper stuff done actually helping people. Mutter, mutter.

I've also just messaged Sir Keir to support him.

If you want to see Count Binface in person follow this link.

I've calmed down a bit  now you'll be pleased to hear.

Now, for no reason other than I was going through old photos looking for one to post to brighten the page, me singing Delilah. 

He never promised us a rose garden

It's only 10.45 in the morning and I feel as if it must be time for bed.

The house is being soft-washed today, and the men doing it said they'd arrive at the very specific time of 7.40 am. (They did too.) So I was up, showered, and dressed before I was wise.

It's not raining so I might go and do some gardening I think. I've done everything I need to do computer-wise, and Minitoo has gone for her service and MOT so we're carless for a day. So I either sit and stare aimlessly into space wondering what to do or I actually get up and do something.

There's a by-election happening today. The sitting Labour MP resigned to allow the then mayor of Manchester, Andy Burnham, to stand. Mr Burnham plans to challenge Keir Starmer for the leadership of the Labour Party. 

It's all crazy and very bad. Keir Starmer is quietly getting on with things*, is very well-respected by foreign leaders, keeps calm, and works hard. By challenging the Prime Minister's leadership Burnham will throw the party into chaos, and cause untold damage regardless of whether he wins or not.

And now I'm getting cross and there's nothing I can do about the situation. So I'm hoping for a win in the by-election for Count Binface.

I think there are lots of excellent ideas on his manifesto, especially 10, 12, and 17.

* - Inflation lower than predicted - unemployment falling - small boat crossings falling - NHS Waiting lists falling - Interest rates stable - Asylum hotel use falling - net migration down 82% - school attendance up

Good intentions

Rebound this morning. It's only half an hour but it is constant activity. Maybe fifteen seconds stopping to pick up/put down weights. The rest of the time you're bouncing and doing arm movements with weights. 

Later to Mumbles to return library books. I said I wouldn't get any more as I have books to read. I came home with these . . .

Still thinking about what to do with the front bit of garden. Current thinking is that I rake off all stones, wash them, put down weed suppressant, and replace old stones. My finger hurts too much at the moment to do anything.

* * * * *

The Sweet Sorrows, aka Sammy and Kylie Horner, appeared at Zac's last night. This is a bit of a song telling the story of Yarri and Jacky Jacky, two Wiradjuri men, who, in Australia in 1852, rescued settlers in danger of being washed away when the plains on which they had built their houses were flooded. The locals had warned the white settlers not to build there but were ignored.

The story is also commemorated in this piece of art, commissioned by Sean for the series on the beatitudes.

Just breathe

So Husband looked at the front bit of garden. "It's too high," he said. "You'll have to rake off all the stones and dig out the earth."

I am just sitting here quietly, taking deep breaths. And massaging my painful swollen finger.

Exercise class this morning, then blueberry muffins made ready for Zac's tonight. We have the Sweet Sorrows with us this evening. They're an Irish/Australian couple who play folksy and traditional music. Always a good night when they come.

* * * * *

A lovely walk with Daughter and Louie yesterday through Ilston valley. I've posted photos before but the height of the trees always amazes me.