On pasties and things.

Hello everyone. I come to you this evening, being approximately 75% Victoria sponge and custard. Pudding is a Sunday treat, but I may have overdone it this week. 

It's been all go today. This morning, at church, we were all multi tasking. It was a Bring and Share Lunch. Officially, this doesn't have a particular theme, but in practice, it turns into an International Lunch because, apart from the lady who orders two massive bags of pasties to bring in, it is mainly the People from Many Lands who attend our church who make the most effort for the lunch. It was also the Sunday when the Christian Union at the local university rounded up all the new September students and began their church surf to support them in finding a church.  So we were visited by 20+ students. I don't know if we will see any of them again, but I'm hoping that someone explained to them that they can't expect free fragrant rice and Jerk Chicken every Sunday.   

It was also Harvest Sunday, which I forgot about, but I had brought some dog food for the Foodbank, so I just slid that onto the end of the produce table, and I'm sure everyone was fine with that. Fortunately, other people were a bit more organised, and I have taken a terrible photo of a lovely piece of decoration from the front of the church. Sometimes I find the scope of other people's creativity quite annoying. You can probably see the bread sculpture on the side. That was a gift from Friary Mill Pasty Shop. (We seem to be developing a full-on pasty theme this week - not that I have a problem with that, obviously).

I had a very nice conversation with a lady whose Mum has dementia. Sometimes she comes to church with her, and sometimes she doesn't because her mum just doesn't want to, to be frank, and I like that level of forthright decision-making. Her daughter says that sometimes her Mum says, "Janet?" (name changed to protect the innocent), "What is church and why do we bother with it?" Janet said to me, "Of course, that's the dementia talking". "Obviously, it is", I agreed while mentally wondering if I was in the early stages of dementia, as that's how I sometimes feel as well. 

Anyway, other than a Sunday morning that resulted in me needing a little nap, I've very little of merit to share with you, but I will go ahead anyway.

I used ChatGPT this week at work when I asked it to have a look at a letter I had written. It's very strange, isn't it? I have it in my head that someone is in an office somewhere, reading and answering the questions I ask it about grammar. This is probably why I keep saying "please" and "thank you" to it, which my daughter says I should stop immediately, because we are not supposed to personalise it. I'm not convinced that it is a "good thing". However, it is amazing. We are putting together a Christmas Quiz (sorry, but some things do need to be planned ahead), and one part of it is a room with a murder mystery in it. Naively, I asked where we would get something like that from, and all the young people in the office dismissed me by saying, "Oh, ChatGPT will be able to put that together easily." I retreated to my office to tell my framed photo of the celebrated Man Utd player, Gary Neville, that I am less than happy about the way the world is going. 

I can only apologise again for the word Christmas, but we have also been sending out prizes for our Christmas (sorry) Raffle. You have to do this quite quickly to make sure that you are in the pile when companies go through all the requests for donations - usually at the beginning of November. However, some generous gifts have come through from local businesses already, including two free trampolining sessions, an afternoon on the toboggan run at our ski slope and a free session at a local bar which seemed to involve a firing range and some pellets. (I think they may be virtual, but you can't be certain.) HOH asked uncertainly - "These places do know that you are a charity for the elderly, don't they?' I mean, obviously, these prizes can be won by anyone who buys a ticket - family, friends, etc. But we did spend a jolly few minutes at work imagining how our customers would fare if they won any of these things. Especially Mrs Bradley, who shrieks with fear at the bus tail lift, and Mrs Ormond, whose teeth can work loose if the bus goes over too many bumps. (Names changed again). 

I also read a couple of books. I particularly enjoyed this one by David Nicolls - You Are Here. I wasn't sure if I would like it as I seemed to be the only person in the known universe who didn't like One Day, but this one is lovely. HOH is reading it now, and I can hear him sniggering in the corner. 

I have been quite taken with the decision to have a Lady Archbishop of Canterbury, although I know nothing about her. I understand from people who have more connection to the C of E than I do that she has had quite a lot of negative feedback because she is an actual woman in sensible glasses who wants to have a go at leading, rather than a man in sensible glasses who, quite frankly, made a bit of a hash of it last time. This comes without her having actually started the job yet. Ah, it's good to know that in a world of AI and doctors getting rid of varicose veins with lasers, everyday sexism is alive and well and punching down at every opportunity.

It reminds me of something I read this week, when a man, who, judging by his photo, may well have achieved very little other than in the area of pasty chomping put up a couple of photos of the victorious Red Roses and the Lionesses with the caption "Heh, heh, they all look like men." to which a wag much cleverer than me replied "Not really mate. They all have winners' medals around their necks." Indeed. Have a good week. 

While I remember, some of next week may well be taken up with a trip to Manchester, so this drivel may not appear. Or it may. I don't know. Try not to get too worried.