I’ve had some sad news, lately. I had a letter from a friend in a previous parish, whom I haven’t seen for over ten years. When I knew him, his daughter, who was in her thirties, was suffering from leukaemia.
After I left that parish, we continued to keep in touch with Christmas cards, so I always asked after Shelia. I was so pleased to hear that she was in remission, at work, and enjoying life.
But this letter was telling me that Sheila had died, just before Christmas. “Makes you wonder about prayer,” wrote my friend.
I forbore to point out in my reply that Sheila had enjoyed a good quality of life over a few extra years. But I did manage to say something about God giving strength and support to face everything that must be faced in life. It was a difficult letter to write.
I’ve just had a phone call from a friend I haven’t seen for even longer, more like fifteen years. Her husband died very suddenly four years ago, and it was such a traumatic experience that she is still deeply affected by it.
They were on holiday abroad when he suffered a burst aortic aneurysm and died within a couple of hours. but the really sad part is that he’d had similar symptoms three months earlier, visited the doctor, and been told it was just a bad back.
What with the terrible loss of life in the Haiti earthquake as well, it feels like there’s a lot of sadness in the world at the moment.
It’s a national pastime in the UK, marvelling (or despairing)over the weather. We haven’t had this much snow for thirty years or more, so the first fifteen minutes of any news broadcast are devoted to accounts of how the weather is affecting British life.
Ed measured the snow in the back garden with a ruler (yes, I stayed indoors snug and warm, and watched through the window) and found it to be five and a half inches. May not be much to some of you hardy types, but to us it’s phenomenal.
Mind you, more was forecast for today, but actually, it’s begun to thaw. Not sure whether I’m relieved ( have a hair-do booked for next Friday) or disappointed.
In view of the difficulty of driving on untreated roads, I again took the service at the small church this morning (I get a lift in the churchwarden’s four by four.) I was amazed when no less than sixteen brave souls ventured forth. Mind you, six of them appeared half-way through the sermon, which was a tad off-putting. Still, it was just nice to have people there, since the church is in the middle of fields.
If the thaw continues, I may have a problem tomorrow, for without the weather, what will I have to write about?
I ordered a hamper for my brother in Maryland, for Christmas. I ordered it online from a firm in Scotland, and it was full of good old English Christmas goodies, like Scottish shortbread, English Christmas pudding, Christmas cake, marmalade, and tea!
I ordered it on November 16th, and as you could stipulate a day for arrival, asked for it to be delivered on December 15th, just in case the family were going away for Christmas.
When my brother rang on Christmas day, I asked him about the hamper. It hadn’t arrived. So I emailed on Boxing Day, using the email form supplied on the site.
No response. I then rang on New Year’s Eve, and spoke to a young woman who promised faithfully to look into it and ring me back.
She didn’t.
I emailed again, using the same form – no response.
I rang twice on Tuesday of this week, but the phone wasn’t even answered. After around ten minutes it just cut off – no answer phone.
I rang again yesterday and amazingly, actually got through. I spoke to a young man who informed me it hadn’t been processed for some unknown reason.
“Hah!” I said. “I want my money back.”
“We can still deliver,” he said.
“What? Half way through January with a Christmas hamper?”
“No, no, we’ll change it. We’ll make it suitable.”
“I want my money back,” I said.
So he promised to reimburse me.
I await the return of my money with interest. Some hopes of that!
I took all three services at the two churches on Sunday, from eight am to noon. Despite the snow and ice I managed the drive without any difficulty (I only drove to the eight o’clock. Ed chauffeured me to the nine thirty and eleven o’clock services) and thoroughly enjoyed being back in harness again.
On Saturday, Ed had bought me a little netbook, but on getting it home we discovered that the wifi wasn’t working. A netbook without the internet being absolutely useless, after the last service on Sunday we drove on into Norwich – where all the shops were open – and exchanged it. The new one works perfectly, and I can synchronise all my work using Zumodrive. If you haven’t met Zumodrive, get it! It’s terrific (and free).
Yesterday we accompanied Al to Addenbrookes Hospital in Cambridge. It’s around a 160 mile round trip, so took virtually all day. No, he’s not ill. He’s a blood donor and is on the bone marrow register, and got a call to say they needed his marrow. He had to go for tests to see whether he’s a perfect match. Now he has to wait to hear. If he’s a match, it means a couple of days in hospital when a giant needle is stuck into his thigh (according to him) and the bone marrow extracted, then another three days off work to get over it. Don’t much fancy it myself, so it’s just as well I’m too old for that kind of caper.
We’re in the grip of winter here in the UK with more to come, but so far, haven’t had it too bad in Norfolk. We’re promised it here on the east coast at the end of the week, but Ed and I are staying firmly ensconced in warmth and comfort. We did the weekly shop yesterday, so hope to be able to withstand a siege, if necessary.
Meanwhile, all is well.
A happy and healthy New Year to everyone.
Having seen the New Year in with a glass of sherry and the fabulous fireworks from the Thames (on TV), we woke to a light smattering of snow.
Now that’s what you might call unfair. Snow a week before Christmas, snow a week after Christmas, but on Christmas Day not a white flake to be seen.
“Thank goodness,” Ed says. And my brother, from the East Coast of Maryland who rang to wish us a happy New Year, told me snow at Christmas was over rated.
“A romantic thought,” he said, “but that’s about all.”
Well, there we are. I’m an incurable romantic and delighted to be so. My life is rosy and happy – even without the snow!
Ed and I took a New year’s walk of around three miles (the snow had practically disappeared by then) and thoroughly enjoyed it.
Tomorrow we meet up with two of our three children. to say farewell to Bx who is going back to Swindon on Monday.
Our eldest daughter and family spent the New Year in Northumberland, where they woke to three foot of snow this morning, so our granddaughter has spent the day tobogganing – lucky her.
Great to have family around, though, isn’t it? Even when you have to say farewell for another short spell.
May 2010 bring you all that you desire for yourself and your family and friends.