Month: January 2024

I didn’t run this morning, partly because the temperature at running time was -5°, and partly because my knee situation got more wobbly and painful as the day wore on. I did walk to Morning Prayer, though, and into town with Margaret for coffee and pain au raisin. This afternoon relatively clear for reading, sermon writing, and various other projects.

I ran my short route again today on account of the -1° temperature, but the whole experience was coloured by my tweaked left knee. I didn’t notice an uneven step, a skid or a wobble — just, about a quarter mile into my run I felt my knee twinging with each step. I slowed down to a walk, tried to let the knee reset itself, and picked up the pace again, but the twinge kept coming back. I walked, then ran a few steps, then walked, then ran, the rest of my route till the knee started behaving again. Home, coffee and fruit, now off to Morning Prayer.

-3°, so I ran my shorter route, but I did run anyway. My fingers got a bit numb; no, they got prickly and painful, so I doubt I will run two days in a row at subzero temperatures. It’s only Celsius, so USians can look smug and point to Iowa temperatures, but I wouldn’t run in -25°F either. Coffee and fruit, about to head out to Morning Prayer, and then quite likely to a cafe in Abingdon. But which…?

I ran my two yesterday and today.Yesterday I then rushed to St Nicolas’s to observe the 8:00 service (that I’ll be celebrating next week), hurried home to have breakfast before arriving early for the 10:30 (I walked along but didn’t do anything importantly liturgical, but had time to watch the blocking for the service; again, I’ll be leading the main service at St Helen’s next week), then home for lunch, walked the dogs down by the Ock now that the water’s low enough, back to church for the Epiphany Lessons and Carols, Blessing of Families, and Epiphany Tea. This is a grand parish occasion, with a vast bring-and-share (the preponderance of which were baked sweet goods); everyone welcomed me, and a good number asked when my licensing service would be. Fr Charles has been announcing it frequently, but you know how words can just drift past your ears if you’re thinking about anything else.

Today, after my run, I had my coffee, cleaned up and went to church for Morning Prayer, picked up some grapes and crumpets for breakfast, talked biblical ethics with Margaret for a few minutes before she left for morning tea with a friend, and I settled in upstairs with the ladies. Today’s tasks are working on Sunday’s sermon and continuing my work on a chantry list for St Helen’s. I’m starting with visible memorials in the church, then will branch out to the churchyard, and when these are relatively complete will open it up for people from the contemporary congregation.

So, keeping occupied. Have to spend some time reading, too; I’d like to have read a book a week this year. That goal is complicated by reading academic articles (some are such a slog that their twenty or so pages should count as a book, but I still would rather read, you know, a book for it to count).

I slept late this morning — all the way to quarter after seven! — and when I woke up I was aghast, because I had planned to go to the 8:00 service at St Nicolas this week, to watch the way it goes, since I’m saying the 8:00 Mass next week. I was almost completely dressed and already planning to leave the house directly when it slowly began to dawn on me that today is Saturday, and that there was no pressure at all to get anyplace.

But I opted not to run, and instead said Morning Prayer and answered emails and started cooking breakfast. Then at noontime I wandered in to St Helen’s, where I walked through the way Mass is said there (different rite, different blocking). Home, and I had just come close to finishing lunch, when the dogs needed a walk….

Ran two miles (the Ock River was back down to recognisable channels, thank heaven) in 5°, up from -1°; fruit and coffee, Morning Prayer, and now settling in to do some reading.

Dave, that sounds like my scintillating scotomas, and my doctors haven’t been worried by them. They are a nuisance, and they seem as though they ought to be ominous, though. I have them at irregular intervals and have recorded the dates since 2017, in case that ever becomes relevant; last one was 6 December, I think. There was a long gap between January and December 2022, but a remarkable (to me) cluster on 2, 4, 6, and 9 July 2019.

I had forgotten how early in the year the anniversary of Aaron Swartz‘s death comes. As we begin to lose the elders of the earliest Web, I can’t forget the cruelty with which overambitious politically-motivated prosecutors crushed his spirit; his voice and insight would be a precious support among digital humanists, humane digerati, and against the hypercorporate use of technology to multiply the wealth of the billionaire caste.

https://akma.disseminary.org/2013/01/aaron-swartz/
https://akma.disseminary.org/2013/01/rememberaaron/
https://akma.disseminary.org/2014/05/remember-aaron/

I ran two miles, fruit and coffee breakfast; will clean up, go to Morning Prayer, head in to Oxford to lead a teaching session on how best to approach leading a tutorial, lunch, then an examiners’ meeting (have I ever mentioned that I hate marking?).

Dave Rogers appositely points to our family favourite film Mystery Men, and adds a link to an enthusiastic critical assessment of what I am accustomed to treating as yet another idiosyncratic feature of life with the Adams. Hail, the Mystery Men! Remember, ‘When you can balance a tack hammer on your head, you will head off your foes with a balanced attack.’

Run two miles, coffee and fruit, Morning Prayer, home, meeting at church, now home again, and working on church projects. Good thing I’m only part-time.

It’s only 0°, but it felt colder on my morning run, and even more so as I walked to church this morning. Then time spent preparing for a Faith Forum next month, then lunch.

Yesterday I ran, joined Morning Prayer with my colleagues, had a meeting with the Rector, had a cup of coffee in town at Java, did some grocery shopping, made it home at about lunch time, worked on the bulletin for my licensing service, reconstructed the prompt for the first tutorial essay in the Paul paper… and that’s enough. I am semi-retired, after all.

What to say? Saturday we stayed indoors, at home, in deference to the flood waters. I didn’t run (though of course I could have taken a different route that stayed clear of the rivers); it just seemed more sensible to stay at home, indoors, while I hammered out a sermon and Margaret and the dogs hunkered down together.

I slept late on Sunday — all the way to 6:30! — and gave the sermon a last edit before church; then I cleaned up and walked the dogs before we were picked up for our trip to Swindon in the morning. Our unambitious walk revealed that the waters had receded and our way across the Iron Bridge was clear. Then we gathered up my vestments and sermon and rode to Swindon with our host, Fr Toby Boutle. St Mark’s welcomed their guest preacher very warmly, and we had a delightful Sunday dinner with Fr Toby and Roy, and with Fr Ross Copley (Victoria was unwell, and Fr Tim and Lois are on holiday). It’s an honour and a blessing to see my former students flourishing in their ministry, and the Swindon parish (including St Mark’s, St Saviour’s, St Luke’s, and the chapel at St Aldhelm’s) has stabilised and grown and has put down sturdy roots with Fr Toby and his team.

Slept like a champion, got up to run my two miles, cup of coffee, and will shortly set out for Morning Prayer and a meeting with my rector. A new day, a new week begins.