Aye, right!

For the benefit of anyone who may not have visited the Livingstone Memorial in Blantyre, Scotland - this is what it looks like.

Of course as you will see, in spite of the presence of a few clouds, there is some fine blue sky. That's because it is always sunny in Scotland.

"Aye, right!"

The great thing about colloquial Scots is that it is probably the only language in the world where a double positive makes a very definite negative. "Aye Right!" is the ultimate expression of cynical disbelief and has to be spoken with just the right amount of sarcasm to get the required effect.

Resurrection

OK - hands up those of you who hadn't a clue what I was talking about when I said I needed a 2.5inch IDE to USB adapter ! The picture above shows what I was looking for.
Fortunately, through this very blog, one of my regular readers, who lives not a million miles from here was able to get hold of one for me. Thanks, Peter!
Good news is that I managed to access the church laptop's hard disk drive using another PC. Even better news is that none of the data was lost. Best news of all, is that I was able to repair it without any specialist software! Now the laptop is working again. Yesssss...
Of course it may only be a temporary reprieve, and so I am going to be very careful about backing up files from now on.
Nobody is stupid enough not to back up their computer files surely? Ahem...
Of course, I didn't expect this sort of disaster to happen to me...
I was just going to get round to it when...
I always meant to do it, but I never seemed to have the time... etc. etc.
I wish I could say I have learned my lesson... again...
but the trouble with many of the lessons I learn through life is that I seem to forget them again very quickly... and not just when it comes to backing up a pc.

The village of the world

Today I once again had the privilege of taking an African to visit the birthplace of David Livingstone at Blantyre. (I've been there so often in the past year or so that one of the staff asked me if I'd like a job as a volunteer tour guide!)
This time my guest was Rev. Simon Githiora Njuguna, the Director of the Youth Department of the Presbyterian Church of East Africa.
He had been attending last week's General Assembly and I was asked if I would 'look after him' today as part of a programme of visits around Scotland and Northern Ireland. I was delighted to do so, and decided right away that Blantyre was the place to take him.
First of all, though, I had to 'collect him' from Abington.
I guess many exchanges (legal and otherwise) take place in motorway service stations but this was a very slick handover, timed to perfection.
Simon had been staying overnight in Dumfries at the home of another minister there, and we decided to meet each other more or less half-way at the motorway services for the handover. Poor Simon - shunted from one car to another, like a parcel in the post. (He didn't seem to mind, though.)
And he really enjoyed the visit to Blantyre.
Here he is pictured in the very room where Livingstone was born and brought up with the rest of his family.
When I see the enthusiasm and appreciation of African people for all that David Livingstone was able to do among them, and the respect in which he is still held all over Africa, I am saddened by the indifference (and even ignorance) of so many Scottish people to this courageous and committed man, whose story is quite astonishing.

As we sat and talked over a cup of tea in the cafe at the David Livingstone Centre and Simon asked me about my previous visits to Kenya it suddenly became clear to both of us that we had 'met' before. Five years ago I had spoken to a group of ministers in Nairobi. Simon was still a 'probationer' at that time - not yet ordained, but he had been sitting in the back row.
After we returned to my home, I was able to confirm it all by digging out the old photograph album from the 2002 trip to Kenya, and there he was - or at least his head-partially visible behind another minister. Well, Simon claimed that he could see himself in the picture. I had to take his word for it, and since he could remember (better than I could) what I had been talking about that day I have no reason to doubt that it was his head.
As they say... "It's a small world!" And getting smaller every day.

The bad technology weekend continues

A short sequel to the tragic tale. First of all the good news.
Accompanying my iPod on its final journey in the washing machine to Apple Heaven were my Sennheiser earphones.
Miraculously they didn't seem to mind being scrubbed up and are still working normally.
What's more they do look pretty clean.
Mind you, I don't recommend it as a standard method for removing unwanted earwax from the phones. It may be effective but I'm sure it's still pretty risky.
On a sadder (and for me hair-tearing) note... last night (or to be more precise in the early hours of this morning) the church's laptop pc gave up the ghost. Fortunately I had a few minutes of warning that something was going seriously wrong and just as the laptop breathed its last I managed to persuade it to transfer the PowerPoint for the Sunday Morning service to my MacBook...
Sadly, though, I can no longer start the thing up and I am going to have to try find someone who can lend me a 2.5inch IDE to USB adapter to try recover some of the data from the hard disk which (surprise, surprise) was not backed up.
It was just another one of those things in my HAVEN'T YET DONE list.

Washout!

Here's a little useful housekeeping tip.
Even if your iPod gets dirty DO NOT PUT IT INTO THE WASHING MACHINE!!
A certain, not-to-be-named, member of my family accidentally put mine through a full wash cycle along with a duvet cover.
It has not been very well since (the iPod, that is.) In fact, it is almost certainly clinically dead, although, as one who believes in resurrection, I continue to wait in forlorn hope for a miracle.

The saddest thing of all is... it doesn't look any cleaner than before.

Easy after all

Well, some of you were absolutely spot on with your guess. It was a rose. (Sorry I zoomed in and also manipulated the colour just a little bit to make it harder to work out.)
Actually these particular roses were quite spectacular. Very large and unusual in shape as well as being beautifully scented. (Too many highly-bred roses nowadays have no scent at all.)

It's been a long week away from the blog, and a busy one at the General Assembly. I hope to pass on to you soon some of my own little observations of the week. Unfortunately I did not have the opportunity to blog while I was away. Although I had my laptop with me I had no access to broadband and no way of uploading photographs, which was the original intention of this bundle of random reflections. And now with so much still to prepare for tomorrow's service, I don't have time to think of anything original to say. I just wanted my regular blog-watchers to know that I have not gone away altogether.

Super stars

Seems like we started something with our church panto.
Some of the children in P2/3 of Kirkton Primary School pestered/persuaded their class teacher to let them put on a show of their own - which they duly did this morning in the church.
And what a show it was!! The Sleeping Beauty.
It had everything. Magnificent acting performances. Wonderful costumes. A great set. Slick presentation. And, most important of all, a beautiful princess, a handsome prince and a really nasty and scary "baddie."
In fact it was an incredibly professional production... except for one little technical glitch at the very start... to do with radio mikes...
Now, who was in charge of that?
Ahem...
...me!
Ah well. We got it sorted eventually.
And they all lived happily ever after.

You can work it out

In light of the fact that over the next week or so I am going to have to listen to debates and hear about issues from many different standpoints and perspectives, I thought I would post another little mystery picture.
This time it is something a lot less obscure than a guitar capo. This is something you are bound to have seen before, though perhaps not exactly like this (and it may not be what it first of all seems to be.)
It is clearly something more organic than a capo, but I'm not going to give you any more clues than that. Just fire in your suggestions in a comment.

Three, two one...

There are some aspects of my work that are not intellectually demanding, nor emotionally draining, nor even physically challenging (actually when I think about it very little of what I do is really any of these things, but it sounded good.) However, occasionally I get to do something which is just sheer good fun!
Today our local primary school were having a special celebration to mark their silver anniversary - a balloon release!! Yess!
Perhaps they should have held off until tomorrow for the theologically appropriate 'Ascension Day.'
On second thoughts, though, I don't think the kids would have lasted any longer. They were much too excited about the whole thing. There is nothing quite like a couple of hundred youngsters feeding each other's excitement and anticipation to near chaos level. I was beginning to think the balloons wouldn't even need helium to get them airborne: the children themselves were as high as kites.
The adults, of course, were suitably restrained and dignified. (I may, however, have some photographic evidence to disprove that last statement.)
I had the chance to release a balloon myself, but a much greater honour and privilege was afforded me. I got to do the countdown. [The real (and only) reason, of course, is that I have the loudest voice.]
And so after a dramatic count of 3 - 2 - 1 ... the order was given to "GO!" and 350 green and silver balloons (minus the ones that had already gotten away) soared up into the drizzly, grey sky helped along by an explosion of pure innocent joy on the part of the children.

I remember away back in 1975 witnessing my first ever rocket launch at Cape Canaveral.
Unfortunately we had missed the launch of the very last Saturn V (the Apollo/Soyuz mission) by a mere two days, but we did get the chance to see the Viking mission to Mars being launched on a military 'Titan' rocket.
Like some gigantic firework display it was briefly spectacular but it was the countdown that got to me most. As I watched the launch-pad through the viewfinder of my camera, I listened to the countdown on the radio and I could feel my pulse quicken as the numbers got smaller and the moment got nearer.
What is it about a countdown that gets some folk so excited?
Is anticipation of the future a peculiarly human phenomenon?
In a desire to find out, I 'googled' the phrase "science of anticipation" only to discover that there is indeed research being done on this very subject. Indeed, it seems to be the way ahead (or so I anticipate.)

Talking of countdowns, in a few days' time our General Assembly will convene in Edinburgh and as I will be a commissioner this year I may not have the opportunity to do much blogging - but we'll see. (You can follow the link above to the live webcast of proceedings)
Would it be wrong (or just cynical) to suggest that next week I might anticipate... a few balloons... lots of hot-air... and one or two things ending 'up in the air'?

The Space Age

Welcome to the Space Age!
I was expecting a parcel this morning. And it arrived. Although, I have to say I wasn't expecting it just to be left on the doorstep by the postie who didn't even ring the bell (but that's another complaint.)
My real complaint was the size of the package because I knew what was inside.
Now it's a long time since I did any maths or had any use for a calculator, but I decided to do some not-so-quick calculations and I reckoned that approximately 99.0541% of the package was either other packaging or empty space. (I've spared you the extra 25 decimal places that the calculator came up with.)
Now that is a lot of empty space!
As I said - welcome to the space age!
The whole question of excess (and often unnecessary) packaging is a big one from an environmental point of view and it's time we got a grip of it. As consumers we surely ought to start demanding less wasteful packaging.
But... it occurred to me even as I thought these thoughts that the Universe itself has an awful lot of 'empty space' in it. Even the most 'solid' of solid objects, it seems, is mostly empty space. And it's true right down to sub-atomic level.
In fact, when you begin to contemplate it, the whole thing is really quite mind-boggling. Then again, my mind is probably quite easily boggled... 'cause it too has lots of empty space inside.

Left Behind

Today in the UK...some will be sad, others will be celebrating, and others still will be sublimely indifferent to it all...
To what?
To the announcement today by the Prime Minister, Tony Blair, that he is resigning from the leadership of the Labour Party and will cease to be Prime Minister on 27th June.
It's the worst kept secret since the Spanish Armada, and the longest goodbye since Frank Sinatra's.
As to my reaction? I am not going to tell you into which of the above categories above I fall, but all the talk on the news bulletins today has been about Tony Blair's "legacy" - what he will be leaving behind when he leaves office, and how his premiership will be remembered.
Who knows?
Time alone will tell. Although it is never likely to tell all.
One thing is certain, every one of us leaves some sort of legacy, in the sense that we all make some sort of mark on the world and on the lives of others, for good or bad (most likely both.)
It is the first principle of forensic science that 'every contact leaves a trace.' And it is certainly true of every human life, however insignificant we may seem.
Jesus asked, or rather told, his disciples to be like salt and light.
Both were, and are, essentially positive, although salt rubbed into a wound can sting and too bright a light can be very uncomfortable, especially when we have become used to the dark.
So, maybe sometimes the followers of Jesus are called upon to make some people feel uncomfortable some of the time, but for the most part our responsibility is to bring flavour and health, illumination and hope to the world in which we are placed and in which we move.
...not easy though.

Watch out for alligators

(a palm photographed in Cocoa, Florida, 2003)

Scotland is getting more like Florida every day! It's true.
OK. Our hills are a tad bigger. Our roads are a lot narrower and not nearly so straight.
But the differences are not so great as they once were.
Let me tell you why.
Last week I had a rare game of golf. By 'rare' I am referring not to the quality of golf played but to the fact that it is probably two years since I had last played a full round. Looking at my scorecard, however, it could be argued that it was rare in another sense - like a steak - kind of 'bloody' in the middle. I took a 9 at both the eighth and ninth holes!! Fortunately, they were by far the worst and I managed to pull it together again for the inward nine. Nevertheless, I am not going to tell you my total score.
Anyway, to get back to the point.... if there is one.
The sky was a bright, unclouded blue. The sun was shining warm and bright. There was hardly a breath of wind. A fellow golfer passing me on the fairway between holes remarked: "This is better than Florida! No alligators here."
"No, not yet," I replied "but give it time."
Was the unusually warm weather a consequence of global warming? Perhaps.
Of course, we are more like Florida now for another reason.
Elections.
Forget your 'hanging chads' - we had about 140,000 spoiled ballot papers in the elections to the Scottish Parliament etc. last week.
And now we have legal challenges, the likelihood of a hung parliament, no one willing to serve as presiding officer (because every vote is precious) etc... etc...
Whatever you can do, Florida, we can do better - at least as far as incompetence is concerned.
There are even some who are arguing that it was all a conspiracy to squeeze out the smaller parties.
But, c'mon, a conspiracy would require organisation, intelligence, clever strategies and a clear outcome. No - I am sure it was more cock-up than conspiracy.
There is, of course, a great appetite for conspiracy theories - whether it has to do with the assassination of JFK, the landings on the moon, aliens, 9/11, Iraq, or whatever.
I think this is probably due to our human need to find explanations for everything and our unwillingness to accept the plain fact that people make mistakes, and do things that are wrong, and sometimes these mistakes can be very big and can have huge consequences.
I'm not one who reaches quickly for the conspiracy theory when things go wrong.
I think it is partly due to my Christian faith, which teaches me that some things cannot be explained this side of eternity but one thing which is certain is the fallibility of human beings, including myself.
And so, yes, in the end I may be mistaken about Scotland becoming more like Florida, but all the same, I think we should watch out for alligators.

Partners

By special request (and with apologies to those of my readers who already know all of this, and may well be fed up hearing me talk about it) I thought I'd say a bit about some of the projects in Kenya that our church is involved in.
The first of these is a congregational partnership between ourselves and PCEA Kiambaa.
The partnership began a number of years ago when Rev. Dr. David Githii (then minister at the new, but growing, Kiambaa Church) visited Scotland and, after meeting one of our elders, came to Kirkton.
Some time afterwards, as part of a Study Leave Project I was undertaking, I visited Kiambaa with one of our elders, and we agreed to develop the relationship between our two congregations.
On that first visit we saw the very impressive building pictured here (now known as the Lankia building) which had been erected at Kiambaa thanks to the generosity of First Presbyterian Church, Lancaster, Pennsylvania. At that time (2002) it was virtually an empty shell.
It now houses, among other things, a clinic, lab, library, kindergarten and a computer training centre (more of which at a later date.)
However, the real focus of our partnership has always been the relationship between the members of the two congregations.
The various projects that we have undertaken (though not of the same scale as the Lankia building itself) have always been intended to develop the friendship between our two congregations.
The first of these projects was to pay for electric lights to be installed in the church.
Another project was to contribute towards the drilling of a borehole (although several years later there still seems to be a dispute between the church and the local authority as to who has the rights to the water in the well.)
More recently (in 2005) we installed about a dozen second-hand computers. (Of course, this also included installing all the electrical sockets etc. to run them.)
It may seem strange to take computers to a community which as yet does not have running water, and where few houses have electricity, but there were good reasons for it. If the economy of a country like Kenya is to catch up in any way with the rest of the world and compete in the global market it is not likely to do so through industrialisation, but it might do so through information and communication technology. More immediately, the individual people from Kiambaa who learn even basic computer skills are much more likely to find employment.

(installation of computers at Kiambaa almost complete)

.

Partners.

A Presbyterian Bishop

Do you ever find yourself wondering where the days disappeared to? This last week must have been a pretty busy one because I haven't had any time to blog at all. (Well, that's my excuse at least.)
I promised that I would tell you a bit about a very interesting person I met last Thursday but somehow I never quite got round to it until now.
Unfortunately I didn't take my camera with me to the meeting in question so I have had to post here a picture taken by someone else. (I hope he doesn't mind.)
The man in the photograph is Rev. Elias Taban, a bishop in the Sudanese Presbyterian Church, President of the Sudan Evangelical Alliance, and a personal friend of the President of Sudan. For someone like me in the Church of Scotland, where the very idea of "bishops in the kirk" is anathema to most folk, it was especially interesting to meet a Presbyterian bishop!
But the man himself was much more fascinating and inspiring than his official title.
Here's what he has said elsewhere about himself:

"My name is Bishop Elias Taban. I was born in the southern Sudanese town of Yei in May of 1955. Two hours after I was born over 50 men from the Yei police station were paraded disarmed and gunned down by the order of a northern Sudanese police officer. My mother had to wrap me in a blanket, and we escaped to the bush, where I was hidden for three days. At age 13 I was a child soldier in the first Sudanese liberation movement known as Anyanya. In 1978 I accepted Christ when a team of evangelists from Kenya came to Juba, Sudan.
I received a Diploma in Civil Engineering. I also have an advanced Diploma in Theology. I speak five languages: English, Lingala, Arabic, Bari, and Swahili. In 1990 I founded the Presbyterian Church in my province. In 2003 our churches formed a new denomination called the Evangelical Presbyterian Church (EPC). I am currently the National Bishop of EPC. In 2003 I was voted President of SEA, the Sudan Evangelical Alliance. I will be President of SEA until April, 2007. I have also served as chairman of the Yei, Sudan Pastors Association. I am married with four adopted children who had been orphans. My wife supports me in my ministry. She is a trained theologian holding a Diploma in Theology. She heads the largest women’s church organization in the area known as the Christian Women’s Empowerment Program. My wife was previously a 1st Lieutenant in the current liberation movement of the SPLA/M. The SPLA/M leadership has released her to full time ministry with me."

The invitation to meet Bishop Taban had come from a small aid organisation called MAI (Medic-Assist International) and I felt privileged to be one of the four invited guests who had the opportunity to hear Elias tell us his story first-hand.
Part of the reason for his visit to the UK was to gather support (financial and otherwise) to develop a project established in South Sudan by Medic-Assist International and WorldShare to build, equip and run a Health Centre at Goli and clinics at Morobo and Kaguada. The health centre itself has already been built but requires to be properly equipped and staffed. (It was difficult to take in and comprehend some of the statistics that I learned during that meeting - such as the fact that in Southern Sudan there is one doctor for every 100,000 people!! or that 84% of pregnant women have absolutely no access to ante-natal care.)
As the health-centre/maternity clinic becomes fully operational it will require not only medical equipment but also trained staff. The organisers are hoping that this might include some short-term volunteer doctors, nurses etc. from this country. Having seen similar programmes operating in Kenya, it seems to me to be a very worthwhile idea.
One of the other people at the meeting actually volunteered his own services to go to Sudan to give training in basic dentistry to health workers there. Unfortunately I couldn't offer anything remotely like this. My only experience of anything like pulling teeth is preaching :-)
Also, since our congregation is already committed to supporting a number of projects in Kenya, there may be little that we can do to assist this worthwhile project in Sudan, but over the next few weeks I'll be giving some thought to it to see if there may be some way of being involved.
I'll keep you posted.
Meanwhile, you might want to check out a couple of videos that have been posted online about the work that Elias Taban and others are doing in Sudan.

A day to remember...

I've been just a bit too busy over the last few days to write anything for the blog- with a wedding, Sunday's worship service, an Election Forum last night and a funeral today all taking up my time. In particular, I know I haven't yet said anything about that interesting person I met last week. I haven't forgotten.... (which is really saying something, as I forget lots of things these days.)
On Saturday, though, I discovered another little hidden jewel in central Scotland- Cromlix House - where I conducted the wedding of someone I have known since she was six years old. [This is one of the great privileges of being allowed to minister in the same congregation for almost 20 years!]
Cromlix House itself is an interesting place with its own tiny Episcopalian Chapel (as you can see above.) I don't know the full history of the place, or why the original owners decided they wanted their own chapel, but it was a beautiful setting for a wedding. (Not to mention a place where really good food is served!!)
Mind you, it could just have turned out to be something of a catastrophe.
All the guests were in place. The groom and his best man were waiting at the front of the little chapel. I walked to the front followed by the bridesmaid and turned to watch the bride enter with her father, looking radiant and beautiful [the bride that is- though the father scrubbed up pretty well, I have to say, and looked very smart in his kilt :-)]
I began the service, welcoming everyone, setting the scene with some appropriate introductory words and announcing the first hymn. At the end of the hymn there followed what I usually call the "Preamble" to the wedding ceremony, which then leads into a prayer.
I was in the middle of the prayer when it suddenly occurred to me that I had not checked if the marriage schedule was in place.
[For those of you not familiar with Scots Law I should point out that The Marriage (Scotland) Act 1977 states as one of its provisions: "If an approved celebrant solemnises a marriage without a Marriage Schedule in respect of the marriage being available to him/her at the time of the marriage, he/she will be liable to prosecution."]
Not wishing to end up in one of Her Majesty's Prisons, I surreptitiously opened my eyes during the prayer and glanced over to the table where the schedule to be signed and ... sure enough... there was no schedule there. Aaaagh!
After the prayer there was nothing for it but to announce that we couldn't proceed any further unless the missing piece of paper could be produced, whereupon the father of the bride (who, incidentally, is one of my church elders) made a very sharp exit to retrieve it.
Fortunately he did not have far to go - only to a room upstairs - and there was no further delay to proceedings.
But it reminded of one of the very first wedding receptions I ever attended as an extremely young, and inexperienced, Assistant Minister in Ayr. The wedding in the church had gone well, even though it was only the second wedding I had ever conducted. And now all the guests had arrived at the hotel where the reception was to take place. It had been agreed that before the meal was served the wedding cake would be cut and a toast proposed to the bride and groom. (Not a particularly unusual order of proceedings.)
And I was to propose the toast.
I had a short speech of sorts prepared and committed to memory. And then, just before I began I noticed that there was going to be a small complication when it came to proposing the toast.... None of the guests had been served with the drinks for the toast.
When I pointed this out to the Functions Manager his response (after the initial look of horror on his face) was "Could you just speak to them for about twenty minutes and I'll get it organised?"
His look of horror became mine. "What!! Twenty Minutes!!"
And so for the next twenty minutes, or so, I dredged my memory for every joke and humorous story I could think of to keep the crowd amused, and at the same time keep them unware of the fact that someone in the hotel had made a monumental blunder.
I'm probably still using the same jokes today!
Back to Cromlix House - I mentioned already the wonderful food - but how is this for a table setting?
What a cool way to fold a napkin!
(According to the waitress not an easy task either.)

...and back again!

Well they did it! While I was out today some builders came and reassembled the scattered stones of our demolished gatepost, proving true the words of the preacher in Ecclesiastes that there is a time to scatter stones and a time to gather them together.

Only thing is.... they forgot to put back the gate itself!!

Hmmm.. I wonder if I should phone them up and tell them they need to come back, dismantle the post again, and do the job properly?
(Remember this all started with flickering lights!)
On second thoughts, perhaps we don't really need the gate after all. In fact it must be about 15 years since we last closed the gates over (when the children were small.)
Who needs gates anyway?

Well, someone clearly feels the need...
Since it was a very pleasant evening we went for a short walk down our road, past the first building site where the new villas are being erected, and then past the second site where some new flats/apartments are also being built. On a large billboard at the front of the building site is the architect's sketch of what the new development will look like.
Here it is:
And the description... "Situated in an exclusive, gated development of 26 luxury apartments with an enviable position in one of Carluke's most prestigious addresses...."
So whoever comes to live here wants to make sure no unwanted people enter their world.
I first saw these gated developments in the United States some years ago and they kind of made me sad. It's like going back to medieval castles: or even an admission, somehow, that community no longer exists. How many of you remember a time not so long ago when you didn't even lock your front door?
It also reminded me of these words of Edwin Markham:
He drew a circle that shut me out
Heretic, rebel, a thing to flout
But love and I had the wit to win;
We drew a circle that took him in.

There are far too many walls, barriers, gates and security fences in our world.
We need more bridges bringing people together

Well tonight... there is one less gate!

Today I met a very interesting man with a remarkable story to tell, but I'll have to share it with you at a later date. Right now I need to think of something to say at a High School Assembly tomorrow morning.

gone...

If a job is worth doing... it is worth doing well!
Don't you agree?
Following on from the recent acts of vandalism against our poor gatepost, our property convener with some assistance managed to get the post put back together again. (Wish I'd taken a photograph of it fixed again.)
However, earlier today, the workmen who came to fill in the holes in our driveway made a proper job of it - completely demolishing the pillar with their van!
I had seen the van and went out to see what was going on. I saw the two workmen trying to heave the large cap-stone over to the side of the driveway. When I asked them what was happening they described what they had done. To their complete surprise I burst out laughing.
The conversation then went something like this:
(workman) "Are you the minister here?"
(me) "Yep"
"Is that why you are taking this so well?"
"Could be. Were you expecting me to start shouting and swearing at you?"
"Well that's what usually happens. When we saw the door open we wondered 'what size is he going to be?'"
[they needn't have worried on that score as both of them were well over six feet and with well-developed muscles (no doubt built up through manhandling stones from gateposts they have demolished)]

The driver then tried to explain his actions...
"It was very narrow!"
"So you decided to make it wider? Eh? You know, I've driven a 35cwt truck through there without hitting anything."
"Aye, but you had the Lord to guide you... (pause) ... we're Satanists (not said seriously)"
"Well, whether you are Satanists or not, I hope you're better at filling in holes than you are at driving your van!"

Now another set of workmen will have to come out to re-build the gatepost.
Funny how one little piece of work snowballs into a major job-creation project.

I'll keep you POSTED on any further developments.

Signs of hope

Last night the Lanark & Carluke Choral Union, with the help of members of the Scottish Opera Orchestra and a few freelance musicians, put on a performance of two contemporary works that I know pretty well- Karl Jenkin's "The Armed Man: A Mass for Peace" and John Rutter's "Requiem".
It was held in St. Mary's R.C. Church in Lanark. Since I know the conductor, one of the soloists, and several members of the choir, I was keen to go along and I really enjoyed the evening. For an amateur choir they did really well. The orchestra, of course, was excellent.
To be honest I'm not a great fan of Jenkins' music, though it is enjoyable enough. It just seems to me to lack a bit of depth and he can be a wee bit lazy at times, padding stuff out with repeats rather than developing ideas - but who am I to say?
"The Armed Man" is certainly a very dramatic work and, in the context of the violent war-torn world we are living in just now, a very timely one. And last night there were some truly dramatic moments.
To appreciate this you have to try and picture the scene (unfortunately I didn't have a camera with me.)
St. Mary's is a beautiful cathedral-like R.C. Church with some lovely carvings and scultptures and some very attractive "Stations of the Cross." For the Easter season a large 'empty' wooden cross had been erected to one side of the altar. It was draped with a long white cloth.
This formed the backdrop against which the choir and orchestra were arranged.

Section 7 of "The Armed Man" is entitled "Charge" and represents a battle scene which culminates in a minute's total silence followed by 'The Last Post.'
It is always a very poignant moment and somehow even more so in a live performance.
But, for me, the most dramatic and moving part actually came near the beginning.
The work uses the Muslim Call to Prayer near the start and, for the occasion, the choir had invited an Imam to come and give the call to prayer.
It was strange to see him stand there chanting the call "Allahu Akbar" in front of that large empty cross, in a packed Roman Catholic church, followed by the choir singing "Kyrie Eleison, Christe Eleison" (Lord have mercy, Christ have mercy)
Somehow it felt to me like a sign of hope in an all-too-often hopeless world (which, of course, is exactly what Jenkins means it to be.)
John Rutter's Requiem seemed especially appropriate after that - especially the sublime "Pie Jesu" very well sung by Dorothy Low. (Well done, Dot! )
I like all kinds of music, including rock, indie folk etc. but at the moment I seem to have a thing about classical choral music.

Painted Earth

We had a rare couple of hours free this afternoon and I took a sudden notion to visit a place that I have not been to for many years-- Broughton Gallery.
The house in which the gallery is situated is not nearly as old as it appears, having been designed in 1938 by Sir Basil Spence, but it blends in beautifully with the rolling hills of the Scottish Borders around the little picturesque village of Broughton.
I think the last time we had visited the gallery was many years ago when a friend of ours was exhibiting some of her watercolours.
Today there was an exhibition of paintings, sculpture, ceramics etc. including works by the well-known John Lowrie Morrison and an impressive collection of paintings by Clifford William Blakey entitled "Painted Earth".
In fact, as we entered through the huge solid oak door, I got the impression that we may have stumbled into a private pre-exhibition viewing, although no one asked who we were or why we were there. Instead there was held out towards me a plate of warm, freshly baked cookies and some champagne. I declined the champagne, as I was driving, but gave in rather easily to the temptation of the cookies. Definitely a good move.
Unfortunately, although Blakey's paintings seemed equally 'tasty' to me, they were not free and we couldn't afford to buy one. Pity. But seeing them was enjoyable enough, and afterwards we took a short walk up the hill to look down on the gallery.
Sometimes when you turn a corner on the journey of life you meet a nasty surprise, but, equally, there are times when the surprise is a very pleasant one. As it was today.

Without the aid of a capo...

A friend of mine sent me a link to this video of an amazing piece of guitar playing.
How is it that those who are incredibly good at something, like playing a musical instrument, or a sport, or a conjuring trick, never seem rushed? It's like they are operating in a different time zone from the rest of us.
Just watch Roger Federer on a tennis court, gliding around in a seemingly effortless way, with all the time in the world to play his shots.
When I watched Manchester United demolish Roma the other week, there was one move when it seemed as if the Roma players were rooted to the spot as the United players simply passed the ball around them in a series of quick-fire, one-touch passes (no need to get the ball under control first - they had all the time in the world.)
The nearer you get to perfection in some activity the more time seems to stretch out.
Maybe if you were to perfect the art of living you would step beyond time itself and into eternity?

[before anyone jumps in to correct my theology, I do not mean this seriously]