With great sadness I must report the deaths of Augustine and Calvin. We thought they were Norwegian blues and just pinin for the fjords.
(On cue, 1970's television arrives)
'E's not pinin'! 'E's passed on! This parrot*1 is no more! He has ceased to be! 'E's expired and gone to meet 'is maker!
'E's a stiff! Bereft of life, 'e rests in peace! If you hadn't nailed 'im to the perch 'e'd be pushing up the daisies!
'Is metabolic processes are now 'istory! 'E's off the twig!
'E's kicked the bucket, 'e's shuffled off 'is mortal coil, run down the curtain and joined the bleedin' choir invisibile!!
THIS IS AN EX-PARROT!!!
Family flowers only.
*1 Obviously it's a seagull, but who writes comedy about seagulls.
Saturday, 27 July 2013
Wednesday, 24 July 2013
Everything is Roses when you Hold on to the Guns.
A WTF? moment from the internet.
A group of well meaning citizens is fundraising to buy George Zimmerman a new gun.
"But now the damage's done
And we're back out on the run
Fun how ev'rything was roses
When we held on to the guns
Just because you're winnin'
Don't mean you're the lucky ones"*
*Guns 'n' Roses. "Breakdown".
Monday, 22 July 2013
Fifty Acts. A Learning Point
Not exactly one of the official acts, but here goes.
The phone rings. It's my Minister.
We exchange pleasantries, although having seen each other the night before, there's not a lot to add. Nice change in the weather etc. So then the real reason for the call...
"Are you going to the concert tonight?" "Yes" says I, guessing what's about to come next...
"Can you please do the evening prayers?" "No problems. Happy to play my part."
We have a band visiting from Germany, people we have came to know over the years, and they are a really good bunch. One of them liked the place so much she came back as a youth worker, and was very good at it too. This time they visited fellow blogger Shuna up in Aberlour. I am sure they behaved themselves and only visited the nearby shortbread factory, and in now way attempted to sample the local waters...
I had heard the band the night before in Lane End, but I wanted to hear them in the smaller, older space of Fieldside.
But back to the evening. It's 5.30, the show is at 7.00 and I've not eaten yet. I throw food at the microwave, hoping for the best. Meanwhile, I go into my extensive archive of prayers for all occasions. 200 words should do it, nothing too fancy, as the language may be a barrier - for the locals - the Germans speak perfect English... :-)
I transfer the file to an Android tablet that I got today for a ridiculously low price in a charity shop, throw on a shirt, and I'm out the door for 6.35. 10 minutes down the road and I'm there in time to get a seat. Throwing caution to the wind, I pay a short visit to the chemical toilet, which, despite being the only local sanitation for a traveling band wasn't too smelly. Remember, if you can't complete the task whilst holding your breath, a portaloo isn't the place for you.
So the lesson for tonight. If you are even a pretend minister like myself, you may be suddenly asked to pull a prayer or a grace before a meal out of the bag. 1.5 hours is much more time than I may get in the future. And you can get away with a lot, as long as your shirt is ironed.
The concert was amazing, and I hope they are back again soon.
The phone rings. It's my Minister.
We exchange pleasantries, although having seen each other the night before, there's not a lot to add. Nice change in the weather etc. So then the real reason for the call...
"Are you going to the concert tonight?" "Yes" says I, guessing what's about to come next...
"Can you please do the evening prayers?" "No problems. Happy to play my part."
We have a band visiting from Germany, people we have came to know over the years, and they are a really good bunch. One of them liked the place so much she came back as a youth worker, and was very good at it too. This time they visited fellow blogger Shuna up in Aberlour. I am sure they behaved themselves and only visited the nearby shortbread factory, and in now way attempted to sample the local waters...
I had heard the band the night before in Lane End, but I wanted to hear them in the smaller, older space of Fieldside.
But back to the evening. It's 5.30, the show is at 7.00 and I've not eaten yet. I throw food at the microwave, hoping for the best. Meanwhile, I go into my extensive archive of prayers for all occasions. 200 words should do it, nothing too fancy, as the language may be a barrier - for the locals - the Germans speak perfect English... :-)
I transfer the file to an Android tablet that I got today for a ridiculously low price in a charity shop, throw on a shirt, and I'm out the door for 6.35. 10 minutes down the road and I'm there in time to get a seat. Throwing caution to the wind, I pay a short visit to the chemical toilet, which, despite being the only local sanitation for a traveling band wasn't too smelly. Remember, if you can't complete the task whilst holding your breath, a portaloo isn't the place for you.
So the lesson for tonight. If you are even a pretend minister like myself, you may be suddenly asked to pull a prayer or a grace before a meal out of the bag. 1.5 hours is much more time than I may get in the future. And you can get away with a lot, as long as your shirt is ironed.
The concert was amazing, and I hope they are back again soon.
Fifty Acts 48. Doing Things Right.
Today saw me driving into the big city to visit yet another church that I've walked past on a number of occasions but never actually crossed the door. So today I visited Augustine United Church which is off George IV Bridge. It's location means that, like so many buildings in Edinburgh, there are a number of levels below that which you would actually consider to be the street level. How many I didn't, but there's at least two that I know of, although in the middle of Edinburgh, people have been known to find basements they didn't know existed.
So like a number of my visits this year, people have said that the minister is really good, and I really have to visit. And like all those other occasions, the minister was away that weekend. Still, this morning's minister was very good. The act of Communion had little details that made it all the more inclusive. The bread was circulated on a tray with a separate dish for gluten free bread, and the elders and minister did not take until all had been served. One of the elders left the sanctuary, and I believe this was to include the Sunday School leaders in Communion. We were all served with wine, and then all drank together. And the wine, like so many churches was alcohol free. It tasted like plain grape juice, which was pleasant. I have had an experience with commercial non-alcoholic communion wine, which was grape juice with a lot of sugar added. Even to my sweet tooth it tasted vile, and tasted sweeter than the concentrated grape juice used for home winemaking.
Unlike some of the churches I have visited this year, this church makes it very clear that LGBT Christians are very welcome, and very much a part of the community. Having seen the efforts that some "christians" have went to to declare LGBT folk as unclean, I'm surprised they would want anything to do with church. In addition, the church has facilities for the mentally ill,has good links with other churches in the area of many denominations, and is very outward looking, involved in a number of campaigns.
So far, this seems to be the church that ticks most of my boxes. I'm aware that as an OLM, I may not have much of a choice where I'm placed and for how long, but I'd like to use this church as an example of how a church can work as a community and also with the world around it..
In other news, the seagulls have returned from the golf course and seem quite content in the garden.
So like a number of my visits this year, people have said that the minister is really good, and I really have to visit. And like all those other occasions, the minister was away that weekend. Still, this morning's minister was very good. The act of Communion had little details that made it all the more inclusive. The bread was circulated on a tray with a separate dish for gluten free bread, and the elders and minister did not take until all had been served. One of the elders left the sanctuary, and I believe this was to include the Sunday School leaders in Communion. We were all served with wine, and then all drank together. And the wine, like so many churches was alcohol free. It tasted like plain grape juice, which was pleasant. I have had an experience with commercial non-alcoholic communion wine, which was grape juice with a lot of sugar added. Even to my sweet tooth it tasted vile, and tasted sweeter than the concentrated grape juice used for home winemaking.
Unlike some of the churches I have visited this year, this church makes it very clear that LGBT Christians are very welcome, and very much a part of the community. Having seen the efforts that some "christians" have went to to declare LGBT folk as unclean, I'm surprised they would want anything to do with church. In addition, the church has facilities for the mentally ill,has good links with other churches in the area of many denominations, and is very outward looking, involved in a number of campaigns.
So far, this seems to be the church that ticks most of my boxes. I'm aware that as an OLM, I may not have much of a choice where I'm placed and for how long, but I'd like to use this church as an example of how a church can work as a community and also with the world around it..
In other news, the seagulls have returned from the golf course and seem quite content in the garden.
Wednesday, 17 July 2013
When the Family Flies the Nest
Perhaps I should be feeling a little guilty. Today I opened the gate.
Today as Mrs G and i walked back from the "branch vestry" where we consumed a couple of pints of local ale, we saw a familiar face. On a small mound next to the golf course car park, looking out to sea, we saw something that looked like Augustine. Back at the Manse, Foxy-Knoxy was all alone in the garden. Of Luther, there was no trace, and there was no sign of the parents on the roof. As we closed the curtains, Foxy-Knoxy walked down the path, stepped onto the road and off into a brave new world. And a dangerous world it is too, as round here, they are liable to be run over by a golf buggy.
We've been wanting rid of the chicks from the garden since they landed, so it's perhaps a little sad to see them go. On the other hand, the postman can deliver without having his bag over his head for safety, and the man that was door-to-door witnessing (seriously, who witnesses to a manse?) can now discuss scripture without having to keep a watchful eye on the skies. And on the subject of witnessing, I don't think he was expecting to be met with something as liberal as The Theology of the Gerbil™ in these latitudes.
But at least we will have something to remember our visitors by. One of the parents crapped down the chimney into the dinning room. Thanks.
Today as Mrs G and i walked back from the "branch vestry" where we consumed a couple of pints of local ale, we saw a familiar face. On a small mound next to the golf course car park, looking out to sea, we saw something that looked like Augustine. Back at the Manse, Foxy-Knoxy was all alone in the garden. Of Luther, there was no trace, and there was no sign of the parents on the roof. As we closed the curtains, Foxy-Knoxy walked down the path, stepped onto the road and off into a brave new world. And a dangerous world it is too, as round here, they are liable to be run over by a golf buggy.
We've been wanting rid of the chicks from the garden since they landed, so it's perhaps a little sad to see them go. On the other hand, the postman can deliver without having his bag over his head for safety, and the man that was door-to-door witnessing (seriously, who witnesses to a manse?) can now discuss scripture without having to keep a watchful eye on the skies. And on the subject of witnessing, I don't think he was expecting to be met with something as liberal as The Theology of the Gerbil™ in these latitudes.
But at least we will have something to remember our visitors by. One of the parents crapped down the chimney into the dinning room. Thanks.
Tuesday, 16 July 2013
Gold Fever
Blood is currently trickling down my leg, liberated from me through the efforts of one of the many horse flies that are circling around. I'm unable to do much about them, as I'm nearly knee deep in a small burn, swilling around a couple of pounds of river gravel. This is one of the few rivers in Scotland where gold panning is freely permitted, so we are giving it a go.
The scottish gold rush was over almost as soon as it started, and by all accounts, the only person that made any real money out of it was the shop keeper who sold prospectors all the equipment they needed. Had the stream been more lucrative, then men would not have given up gold prospecting to return to fishing during the herring season.
It's backbreaking work, and we are just scratching the surface. It's a pleasant day, the water isn't too cold, and the midges are mostly being kept at bay, although the cleggs are deadly. Try this in a traditional Scottish "summer" and life would be miserable.
At the end of the day, we have seen possibly one tiny flake of gold, a bit of garnet, and plenty of mica. And we can go back to a house, not just a tent.
If you want a comparison to how the other half lives, give thanks that you don't have to work in Serra Pelada. (Google for Sebastiao Salgado's pictures from the mine)
The scottish gold rush was over almost as soon as it started, and by all accounts, the only person that made any real money out of it was the shop keeper who sold prospectors all the equipment they needed. Had the stream been more lucrative, then men would not have given up gold prospecting to return to fishing during the herring season.
It's backbreaking work, and we are just scratching the surface. It's a pleasant day, the water isn't too cold, and the midges are mostly being kept at bay, although the cleggs are deadly. Try this in a traditional Scottish "summer" and life would be miserable.
At the end of the day, we have seen possibly one tiny flake of gold, a bit of garnet, and plenty of mica. And we can go back to a house, not just a tent.
If you want a comparison to how the other half lives, give thanks that you don't have to work in Serra Pelada. (Google for Sebastiao Salgado's pictures from the mine)
The Extended Family
 | |
| In order of age Augustine (left) Luther (Right) Foxy-Knoxy (Centre) |
Monday, 15 July 2013
Fifty Acts 47. Pick up Your Church and Walk
The church I was in this morning has a bit of a history. It's a Tin Tabernacle, one of the many prefabricated buildings that were made out of corrugated iron in the late Victorian era and were exported throughout the world. It's not just ships and trains that Glasgow exported to the world. Schools, hospitals and churches were made flat packed and shipped everywhere. The church I was in this morning was originally located 15 miles down the road, and was moved in the early 1900's. The church is still very original inside, and is in very good condition.
The church is Episcopal, and the service was a quiet reflection. Some parts were communal from a service sheet, there was a short reflection on the Good Samaritan, with a long period of silence. I like being given a bit of time to find my space, and despite the traffic thundering past on the main road outside, and the persistent ticking of the electric meter, it was pleasant.
Afterwards, we had a brew with the local priest. While we have joked about the size of Mrs Gerbil's combined parishes, Steve is responsible for an area that,(as best as I can work out) if it was a country, it would be larger than many countries that are UN members and who have their own international dialing codes. This includes (+670) and (+1-242), although not quite as large as (+268)*1. The City of Edinburgh is tiny by comparison, about the size of (+1-345).
Steve has lived here for a few years and gave us a fresh insight into the community. There were some things we agreed upon that the local communities could benefit from, and he let us know about recent developments in the community, and how events and decisions taken many years ago still have an impact on a community, and can still be hurtful. The three of us could certainly see that there are times that all the various denominations could work together within a community, although we also agreed that there were people who may disagree with this approach.
Steve is a genuinely nice guy, someone with a genuine concern for his communities, and someone with vision that it would be a pleasure to work with.
And as we sat there drinking our tea, and discussing God's work, this came on the Jukebox... You've got to laugh...
*1 I worked it out to be 15,000 square km putting him 159th on the list.
The church is Episcopal, and the service was a quiet reflection. Some parts were communal from a service sheet, there was a short reflection on the Good Samaritan, with a long period of silence. I like being given a bit of time to find my space, and despite the traffic thundering past on the main road outside, and the persistent ticking of the electric meter, it was pleasant.
Afterwards, we had a brew with the local priest. While we have joked about the size of Mrs Gerbil's combined parishes, Steve is responsible for an area that,(as best as I can work out) if it was a country, it would be larger than many countries that are UN members and who have their own international dialing codes. This includes (+670) and (+1-242), although not quite as large as (+268)*1. The City of Edinburgh is tiny by comparison, about the size of (+1-345).
Steve has lived here for a few years and gave us a fresh insight into the community. There were some things we agreed upon that the local communities could benefit from, and he let us know about recent developments in the community, and how events and decisions taken many years ago still have an impact on a community, and can still be hurtful. The three of us could certainly see that there are times that all the various denominations could work together within a community, although we also agreed that there were people who may disagree with this approach.
Steve is a genuinely nice guy, someone with a genuine concern for his communities, and someone with vision that it would be a pleasure to work with.
And as we sat there drinking our tea, and discussing God's work, this came on the Jukebox... You've got to laugh...
*1 I worked it out to be 15,000 square km putting him 159th on the list.
Thursday, 11 July 2013
Fifty Acts 46.When Spot met Leah.
Yesterday there was a massacre. I had the chance to play on the bike for a couple of hundred miles, and along the way I must have killed a couple of hundred thousand midges, which is sod all compared to the 1,684,000 midges caught in a single trap at Loch Ness. Still, it's pretty satisfying, and I also recorded the wanton destruction of a few moths, which make a large thud when they hit the windscreen. And we all know what the last thing to go through its mind was...*1 The bike now needs scrubbed so I'm hoping there's a charity car wash near me this weekend.
So after a short stop at a very large sweetie shop, where three teenage girls were being told by their mother to "be sensible" just when I walked towards the counter carrying four large jars of boilings. Then another stop to catch up with a friend who lives near my planned route, I headed off to my destination.
Yesterday, I had the pleasure of attending the ordination of Leahthedog from Clarinda's Journey. I've been following her blog since the start, so it's nice to finally be able to put the name and the face together. Because we are at different stages in our training, we've not encountered each other at church conferences before.
The church was full, and on a day as hot as yesterday, it made the building absolutely roasting. I was glad I was positioned near the door to benefit from some of the breeze. The lady I was sitting next to had made a 120 mile journey to be there, leaving her son behind on his fiftieth birthday, and I heard similar tales from people who had made an effort to be there. Such was the love they felt for Leah, and the contribution she had made to their lives.
In the sermon, the minister made reference to the 1978 TV series Connections, asking if we were old enough to remember it. It's either showing my age, or the fact that I was watching science programming when I was very young, but I remember the series, if not the actual content. The connections quoted managed to include Bonnie Prince Charlie (The king named after three dogs) the Ordnance Survey and the electric light bulb, with a change in track to include Billy Graham. This was a graphic demonstration of how our actions will serve to influence others, in a long chain of connections that we are unaware of, and through the laying on of hands, shows a connection to a long line of ministers, all the way back to 2,000 years ago.
Going back up the road, i was hit with a feeling of how very real this all is. I've not even given thought to ordination.
The spread afterwards was very nice, and I was able to catch up with one of the ministers who was my interviewer at my selection, and who I tend to keep bumping into on occasion.
Leah isn't going to be able to put her feet up, as she is going straight into locum this weekend. So I pray that the future keeps being fresh, and there are plenty of challenges ahead.
*1 Do I really have to explain it?*2
*2. Ok then, I might explain in the comments.
So after a short stop at a very large sweetie shop, where three teenage girls were being told by their mother to "be sensible" just when I walked towards the counter carrying four large jars of boilings. Then another stop to catch up with a friend who lives near my planned route, I headed off to my destination.
Yesterday, I had the pleasure of attending the ordination of Leahthedog from Clarinda's Journey. I've been following her blog since the start, so it's nice to finally be able to put the name and the face together. Because we are at different stages in our training, we've not encountered each other at church conferences before.
The church was full, and on a day as hot as yesterday, it made the building absolutely roasting. I was glad I was positioned near the door to benefit from some of the breeze. The lady I was sitting next to had made a 120 mile journey to be there, leaving her son behind on his fiftieth birthday, and I heard similar tales from people who had made an effort to be there. Such was the love they felt for Leah, and the contribution she had made to their lives.
In the sermon, the minister made reference to the 1978 TV series Connections, asking if we were old enough to remember it. It's either showing my age, or the fact that I was watching science programming when I was very young, but I remember the series, if not the actual content. The connections quoted managed to include Bonnie Prince Charlie (The king named after three dogs) the Ordnance Survey and the electric light bulb, with a change in track to include Billy Graham. This was a graphic demonstration of how our actions will serve to influence others, in a long chain of connections that we are unaware of, and through the laying on of hands, shows a connection to a long line of ministers, all the way back to 2,000 years ago.
Going back up the road, i was hit with a feeling of how very real this all is. I've not even given thought to ordination.
The spread afterwards was very nice, and I was able to catch up with one of the ministers who was my interviewer at my selection, and who I tend to keep bumping into on occasion.
Leah isn't going to be able to put her feet up, as she is going straight into locum this weekend. So I pray that the future keeps being fresh, and there are plenty of challenges ahead.
*1 Do I really have to explain it?*2
*2. Ok then, I might explain in the comments.
Monday, 8 July 2013
Angry Gerbil, part two. (Where spot responds to solar energy pests)
In this post I complained about a call centre that tried to flog me solar panels at 11:40pm. Twenty minutes to midnight is not the time to call me unless you have seen the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse thundering up Sauchiehall Street. And even then, it's probably not the end of the world.
So, ever since then, every time I get one of these robo calls, and I'm given the option to press one for a callback about insulation, or two to be taken off their phone list, I've pressed one. Trust me, two doesn't work. It got to the point that I was receiving two or more of these calls a day, despite being on telephone preference. Finally a human contacted me.
Caller "I believe you pressed one to be called by me about solar panels?"
Spot "Yes, I did."
C: "We at Ripp off and Screwem Energy... [long sales pitch about their company removed here] Are you thinking about fitting solar panels?
S: "No."
C: (a confused pause)"...so why did you ask for a call back?"
S: "I have asked your company to stop calling me. I've pressed button two to be taken off your call list, and yet you still call me. So I decided that, I have given you a fair chance, so now, every time you call me, I'm going to waste your time."
C: (now flustered and getting angry) "...well I've got a whole call centre here, so let's see how much of your time I can waste!"
S: "Bring it on."
Since then, probably about a month ago, all the calls have stopped, and the threat to turn a whole call centre against me has came to nothing. So has the call centre taken the hint, or has the fact that I have elected to speak to a sales rep taken me off their call system?
I've nothing against call centre staff, besides the ones that threaten me. Everyone has the right to earn a living. What i do object to is the practices of these call centres. I have registered with the Telephone Preference Service, so have done them a favour. I have stated that I'm not interested in telemarketing, so I'm not going to buy anything as a result of a cold call. They should know to leave me off their calling list. By calling me, I know they are not a reputable company, so I am even less inclined to do business with them.
Troubled by unpleasant voices in the night. Waste their time. They will go away eventually.
So, ever since then, every time I get one of these robo calls, and I'm given the option to press one for a callback about insulation, or two to be taken off their phone list, I've pressed one. Trust me, two doesn't work. It got to the point that I was receiving two or more of these calls a day, despite being on telephone preference. Finally a human contacted me.
Caller "I believe you pressed one to be called by me about solar panels?"
Spot "Yes, I did."
C: "We at Ripp off and Screwem Energy... [long sales pitch about their company removed here] Are you thinking about fitting solar panels?
S: "No."
C: (a confused pause)"...so why did you ask for a call back?"
S: "I have asked your company to stop calling me. I've pressed button two to be taken off your call list, and yet you still call me. So I decided that, I have given you a fair chance, so now, every time you call me, I'm going to waste your time."
C: (now flustered and getting angry) "...well I've got a whole call centre here, so let's see how much of your time I can waste!"
S: "Bring it on."
Since then, probably about a month ago, all the calls have stopped, and the threat to turn a whole call centre against me has came to nothing. So has the call centre taken the hint, or has the fact that I have elected to speak to a sales rep taken me off their call system?
I've nothing against call centre staff, besides the ones that threaten me. Everyone has the right to earn a living. What i do object to is the practices of these call centres. I have registered with the Telephone Preference Service, so have done them a favour. I have stated that I'm not interested in telemarketing, so I'm not going to buy anything as a result of a cold call. They should know to leave me off their calling list. By calling me, I know they are not a reputable company, so I am even less inclined to do business with them.
Troubled by unpleasant voices in the night. Waste their time. They will go away eventually.
Tuesday, 2 July 2013
Meet the Family
 |
| Public enemies 1 and 2 |
There was no post this morning. I fear the Postman may have been eaten.
Monday, 1 July 2013
Please give me a Tenner
It's been an expensive month. I've had to spend £350 on motorbike maintenance, and while I've accepted that I'm responsible for the maintenance of my fleet, I'd like you to contribute to the repair fund. So if you can please send me a tenner, or whatever you like, I'll promise to use the new tyres (which includes fitting) to support the last of the Fifty Acts of Worship. I accept Paypal, and ll major credit cards.
OK, so I'm not serious. I don't honestly think I should be asking you to pay for luxuries that I don't really need.
So as I've saved you a tenner by not asking you to support my motorbike fund, perhaps you could pass it on to this church that needs $50,000 to pay for rotor blades for its helicopter... Suddenly £350 for a pair of Bridgestones seems like a better deal.
WWJD? Probably walk, I would imagine...
OK, so I'm not serious. I don't honestly think I should be asking you to pay for luxuries that I don't really need.
So as I've saved you a tenner by not asking you to support my motorbike fund, perhaps you could pass it on to this church that needs $50,000 to pay for rotor blades for its helicopter... Suddenly £350 for a pair of Bridgestones seems like a better deal.
WWJD? Probably walk, I would imagine...
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)