Stories that make sense
Beauty is fleeting. If I’d been looking five minutes earlier, or later, I’d have missed this strange little golden shadow falling across my great-great-great-aunt’s picture. (There are two stained-glass suncatchers hanging in the window, one representing a bee and the other an oblong rainbow: together they make an angel.) That said, she’s been looking beautiful in this portrait for a hundred and sixty years. Either way, I suppose it’s a case of looking, and appreciating when you see it.
I have not just been falling asleep reading books. I have been falling asleep trying to say evening prayer, whether doing it by myself on the app or watching some cathedral’s livestream on YouTube. In the Marlows books, Patrick says that his nurse told him that if you fall asleep during a prayer your guardian angel finishes it for you. If that’s the case then I’ve been keeping mine busy. I do not fall asleep, however, if I walk twenty minutes through a dark chilly blowy evening to go to Evensong. So I did that today. The journey there was rendered particularly dramatic by a power cut: half the hill was in darkness.
I’m glad I went. Gloomy readings from Daniel and Revelation matching my mood; light and music reaching through and transforming it. And the thought that this prayer goes on and on, through the centuries, whether I’m there or not.
Lighten our darkness, we beseech thee, O Lord, and by thy great mercy defend us from all perils and dangers of this night, for the love of thy only Son, our Saviour, Jesus Christ. Amen.
I’ve been having trouble reading lately (on one occasion I was woken by the thud of the book hitting the floor), but E. F. Benson, in a slightly less caustic mood than usual, hit the spot and I hoovered this up in two days. At first I thought it was just going to be Mapp and Lucia in London, and there is a bit of that about it, but it’s mostly about an ex-typing agency employee living her best life writing exactly what she wants to, getting paid squillions for it, and generally having a whale of a time in the face of snobbery both literary and social. Great fun.
The garden is running wild, and has been since the summer. It’s been on my conscience, too. It looks a little tidier now that the leaves are falling, but it’s also more obvious how much needs trimming back and cutting down now that it isn’t just a mass of green.
So today I had someone round to give me a quote for tidying it up and, as he put it, putting it to bed for the winter. I’d love to be able to do it myself, but it just isn’t going to happen. This is the next best option.
I do find baptisms very moving. It’s something about it being the beginning of a journey, a step into the light. And something about the sense of community, about one person being welcomed into a huge family.
In our case it’s an excuse for a regular family party. Though our regular family is pretty huge too.
It’s nice to have an excuse to ride on the gallopers/roundabout/carousel/merry-go-round/whatever you want to call it, on a bright sunny day, with the organ playing a selection from Carmen.
I mean, I’ve ridden on it on my own, without an excuse, before now, but it’s particularly nice to have an excuse.
Today, I heard this tree before I saw it. It was full of starlings, and they were loud.
I often see them around here. Sometimes they perch on TV aerials, sometimes on the ridges of roofs. I’ve had a few of them visiting my bird feeders. For all that I’m always half-expecting to see them, they’re always a surprise and delight.
It’s been a while since I walked my usual walk. Last month I slipped getting out of the shower and bashed my knee: I couldn’t get downstairs for three days, it took me seven to get out of the house, and for several weeks more it was painful if I moved it the wrong way. You can imagine how frustrating this was. Even now I can’t straighten my leg fully. Then I’ve had various things to buy and places to be, so I’ve been using my walking energy getting into town. But today I went out and I walked for fifty minutes, just for the pleasure of going for a walk. It was great.
There’s something faintly annoying about having misjudged how much thread you need to finish a given seam, even when there’s plenty left on the reel. But it pales by comparison with the subsequent satisfaction of having got the thing done.
Well, I wouldn’t be posting if I hadn’t finished sewing.
We’ve had all sorts of weather today: rain, sunshine, and, above all, wind. It’s brought a lot of leaves down from the trees, and those that are left are sideways.
Kathleen Jowitt 