NHS

From personal experience I know that NHS 24 does not always work. That’s partly why I was horrified to hear of the Polish doctor who travels for 14hrs every other weekend to get to Aberdeen to put in a five hour shift. Followed by two shifts the next day, then the 14hr trip back to Poland. And the new system of out of hours care was supposed to replace the situation where tired GPs were called out to patients.

But my faith in the police has recently been enhanced. We got a phone call from a rather distressed sounding, probably elderly lady, who complained of being ill and needing help. We got the number off our call log and telephoned the local police explaining what had happened. In a few minutes they phoned back to tell us that they had traced the number (down in England somewhere) and that an ambulance was being dispatched.

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Sense and Sensibility

I love the way that Jane Austen books transfer to film so well. There is something about the language and yes, the passion that appeals to the romantic in me. Over Christmas I watched the 1995 film, and last night saw the recent BBC production: three episodes back to back as it were. Andrew Davies, writer of the 2008 version has surpassed even Emma Thompson, who wrote the screenplay for the earlier film. It could also be that a less familiar cast enable the words and actions to speak for themselves.

Very satisfying.

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Selective Hearing

Hearing is an emotive sense. For people who are deaf it is an ongoing frustration and an exhausting process as well. Those of us who can hear reasonably well are not always as sympathetic as we might be, especially when we are young and the deaf person is elderly and perhaps a bit slow as well. This week I have been thinking about selective hearing – Misty took a bad dose of it during a walk in the forest. She knows a return to base is mandatory when she is called and usually she keeps her minder in sight anyway. Not so on this occasion – Little Dog gets the scent of something interesting and dashes off at a high rate of knots down in amongst the dark trees. I called and called, then had a mental vision of darkness descending and a lost dog. Just as I was beginning to really be concerned, back she trots, expecting praise and treats. And of course that is just what she got – it is a rule of dog-training that they always be praised when they eventually return.

Just as well God is a good minder – because I am often like my dog!

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Sermonprep

Sermonprep is probably self-explanatory, but in case not, it refers to the process of getting a suitable sermon down onto paper. In my case this involves a Bible, a large sheet of A3 paper, coloured pencils, and the discipline to mind-map the set readings for the day…….all before I desperately start trawling the internet for ideas. When I was preparing a sermon or address every week it could sometimes be a bit frenetic, and though the process kind of rumbled on all week, the final writing up and printing out was usually done on a Saturday evening. And Oh the bad words if the printer ran out of ink or decided to go on strike or spill out gobbledegook.

Thus – I was delighted to get the service ready last night – Friday! And in case it is not obvious, I am preaching on Sunday. However, the question has to be asked – Why did I ever leave the finishing touches until a Saturday?

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time of reckoning

Back to slimming club last night – the first time since Christmas, three weeks to be precise. One and a half pounds gained. Well I did eat (and drink) to excess for two of the three weeks. Still it is frightening to think how quickly one gains the weight.

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Storm

Scotland was hit by an unexpected fierce storm yesterday. We had no electricity until lunchtime. Thankfully, we have an emergency gas heater and a gas hob, so it was a case of thermals and staying in the kitchen end of the house. However, it set me off thinking about how fortunate we are in this country with regard to utilities. I know they are getting more and more expensive, but on the whole they are reliable and we can usually turn on a tap and get clean water. It is not just in the very poor countries that electricity, for instance, is restricted. I read recently that parts of Lebanon can only expect a few hours of supply in each week.

It may seem unrelated, but I am going to try and remember to switch off lights and appliances from now on, and use the tumble drier less. It might even bring the electricity bill down and that would be magic.

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Sneaking around

Stealthily I go with my camera – creeping up to windows to catch the sparrowhawk unawares. Guess what? It has stayed away today. Moral problem solved? Now I worry about what might have eaten the sparrowhawk.

Life is trial and tribulation.

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The moral maze

It is one of life’s greatest pleasures to sit and watch birds at the garden feeders. A whole host of small birds visit daily and it is wonderful to see the occasional rarer visitor like the spotted woodpecker. However, we have been increasingly seeing a sparrowhawk, who has developed terrific skills at flying round corners or dropping suddenly onto its prey – and whoosh…..another little bird has become a meal for the larger bird. And this constitutes a moral problem. The beautiful, but lethal bird of prey uses our garden as a fruitful hunting ground and has adapted its techniques to make it especially successful. What to do? I sometimes wonder how long it will take before the little birds are sorely depleted in number; and yet I know, realistically, that the hawk has to have its daily sustenance.

Life gets very difficult, even in Dalamory.

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Weekend

Have enjoyed a very quiet slobby-out weekend. Much needed. The Chrismas decorations are down and packed away for next time. It is less than a year away, and comes round very quickly! That is something everyone notices as time goes by.  In fact, one of my favourite blogs – of the same name – has a post which amused me greatly. Ronni (the writer) was pointing out the results of a survey in the US which stated that people of 62 did not consider themselves as old. Old they reckoned was something you could call a 77 year old. As average age expectancy in the States is around 77 years, it seems that the term “old” is done away with altogether. One is merely dead.

This “one” is not dead, but I am laughing a lot! And that is supposed to extend life. Look out everybody.

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Epiphany

Epiphany: is it about showing God’s gift of love to humankind? Or is it about realising God’s gift of loving me?

Both. And all the more of an epiphany because of that.

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