Hello everyone. I hope that you are ok. We are still here, and the less said about that, the better, I think. Unfortunately, we have had to cancel our wedding anniversary trip to Paris because there is too much going on, and we may well need to be here. We lost some money, but not as much as we expected. I am currently looking at the balance we got back as money saved and am trying very hard to get HOH to agree to me blowing the lot on new clothes, but he doesn't seem to be going for it. Actually, if this unpleasantness goes on for much longer, I will have to buy new clothes because the weather seems to be changing, and I am currently wearing four huge jumpers and two pairs of jeans on rotation. If we get a hot spell, I'm jigged.
Plymouth City Council have closed all the roads around our building, leading to huge traffic jams. At least it is keeping our position in people's thinking. Although you can't even trust the news. I'm a big fan of the BBC, as you know, but I had to get in touch with them this week because they had put up an inaccurate and distressing headline about our building. I'm not that great at standing up for myself, but I asked them to take it down - quickly. I think I did use the phrase "shoddy reporting". Anyway, they did! They took it down within the hour. Power to the people, eh? No apology, but you can't have everything, I suppose.
Very little to report this week. People from church have been very nice about the whole thing, but there's not a lot they can say, really. Some especially nice people have taken us off rotas and taken producing rota responsibilities off us, which has been very helpful because we seem to have only teeny-tiny spaces left in our heads for anything which needs much thought.
We had a guest speaker this week because it was Communion, and we needed someone with magic fingers to deliver the bread and wine. Far be it from me to criticise the giant behemoth that is the Methodist church. I certainly understand why someone would want to know the calibre of the person who is standing in your pulpit. As I think I said in the past, I remember the look on our Elder's faces when a guest speaker gaily informed us that he had raised chickens from the dead as a sort of practice run for the real thing. That's the Pente for you. However, I have taken communion in small house groups, youth weekends away, in a field in the country and on a campsite with a family that had taken me and my friend under their wing when I first became a Christian. They were lovely times, and there was no person with fully qualified magic fingers present. I can't help but think that sometimes we may be missing out.
In other Communion News. I sat on the balcony for the service this week - partly to avoid "well-wishers". Sorry. I did notice from my elevated seat that a little boy had managed to squeeze behind the Communion table - unnoticed by the servers. He managed to quaff two or three shots of Ribena before he was spotted. He did have a go at the Communion Baps but rejected them - probably because there was no jam on them, and began to try and crush them into flat bread style using the Communion Table Crucifix. It was all on the verge of horror film unpleasantness when one of the ladies took his hand - gently but very firmly to deliver him back to his harassed Mum, who was already dealing with at least two other children. Parenthood eh?
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