What’s the Story in Dalamory

A shower tray has appeared and is cemented into place.

There are no workers visible though.

Another of those mornings when I wonder What is work? when one is retired. However, to be honest most of this morning’s telephone calls does qualify as work. It reminded me of how much there was to be done behind the scenes. Things that the parish never really saw. It takes an age to open and deal with mail, email and to return telephone calls. I was out yesterday afternoon and when I came home there was a pile of messages. Him Behind the Wheel had even taken to writing them in the old-style message book from my last parish. And all because I am doing a small job for Presbytery. (Our admin body locally in the Church of Scotland)

How does it all make me feel? Well……it is gratifying to discover I can still be an organiser, but it is salutory to discover that I shall be relieved when lunchtime arrives. Mind you, wasn’t it always like that?

In case you are wondering I have long since finished the last of the Harry Potter books. And yes I did enjoy it! Have now finished Be near me by Andrew O’Hagan. One reviewer says that this is a book which should be read twice. I couldn’t agree more, but I rather think a slight gap might be in order. As for current reading…… I am almost at the end of the tunnel: Out of the Tunnel is a moving account of survival by Rachel North. Harrowing stuff, but gripping with it.

Freedom is what you do with what’s been done to you.

Words for thought…..

In my days of studying comparative religions, I was much entranced by Taoism. This quote from Li Po gives a flavour of why.

I take a bottle of wine
and I go to drink it among the flowers.
We are always three – counting my shadow
and my friend the shimmering moon.
Happily the moon knows nothing of drinking,
and my shadow is never thirsty.

When I sing, the moon listens to me in silence.
When I dance, my shadow dances too.
After all festivities the guests must depart;
This sadness I do not know.
When I go hom, the moon goes with me
and my shadow follows me.

Praise is due to our local authority regarding the rubbish tipped. (See 21/22 August posts.) They have already cleared away the unsightly and potentially dangerous mess.

Well done Argyll and Bute.

Here is a really tricky one, and I should know as part of my degree was in Christian Ethics!

I have been attending a slimming club since early February, which takes place in a village sixteen miles away. During that time I have often thought how like church it is, especially church in the rural areas. There is the same sense of camaraderie and shared purpose the same problem over small numbers, and the same evangelical stance by the leader as she encourages the members to stick to their goals. (The added bonus is that I have lost a stone and a half!)  The ethics comes due to the fact that a rival slimming club has started up a group that meets in my very own village. It has a stricter ethos (read diet for that) – so is slightly less attractive to me as I love eating a lot of food! On the other hand I would meet members of my immediate community.

Both clubs, despite being for-profit organisations, require support. Which should I go to? I already know the answer and in typical me-fashion it is a kind of fudge or compromise………..  Expect a full report in a couple of weeks.

Summer came with a temperature of 28C yesterday, along with Son #4 and family. Misty was enchanted with both the nearly 2yr old and the 9month old. Each was prone to dropping food. Guess who followed them around.

All the parasols, rugs and garden chairs were hauled outside to make an encampment and it felt like being on holiday. More of the same today please.

A friend in the know, warned of the dangers inherent in litter-picking these days. So Him Behind the Wheel was deputised to telephone the local authority to ask what should be done about the rubbish problem. We gave a map reference and were assured that “P would deal with it.”  Apparently, rubbish should not be lifted by hand because of the possibility of HIV infected needles and other horrors. I have to confess that I had never given it a thought. Nor did I in the days long, long ago when as an Akela (Cub Scout Leader) I organised twenty or so eight to eleven year olds in a sponsered litter pick on the beaches of the Isle of Lewis.

Those were the days. Freezing cold winds and sharp showers of horizontal rain. (And that was in May.) I do have the photo to prove it, showing the enormous skip that was filled. However, it cannot be published on the blog as I have lost touch with the youngsters concerned and thus cannot get permission.

Anyway, we will check out the forest site in a week or two and may yet have to use the grab and reach tong method. (I have one of those devices that are sold to midgets like me to reach things high up in cupboards) I guess that all of this means that I am not completely confident of P and our local authority. How wonderful it would be to be proved wrong.

This is me with a rant in mind. A visit to one of our favourite forest walks was rather spoilt yesterday by extreme littering. Persons unknown, but who obviously had no thought for the environment or others, had despoiled the parking spot with empty bottles, cans, barbecue litter, bedding (?) and various other unmentionables. Knowing that the only way to combat it is to go back equipped with rubber gloves and several large black sacks, does not help somehow. Maybe having a sound off here will help.

Argyll is so beautiful and seeing such detritus highlights something of the contrasts of light and dark in the world in general.