When I was working it was generally agreed that the Thursday of Holy Week was the busiest day of the year. Everyone, it seemed, wanted to get everything out before the long weekend. While yesterday was busy for me, it was no more so than I had expected, with the traditional Maundy meal at church in the evening, and an hour there in the morning to help get things ready for it.
The busy part of this week - a matter that was, unexpectedly, not only demanding physically but mentally too - came at the beginning. I had been persuaded to be a candidate in the district council elections in May and, now that the computer crisis of the last couple of weeks had passed, it was time to get all the forms filled in. I was surprised, but not confused, by the number of them and all, of course, have to be correctly completed in order to fulfil the legal requirements. I'm glad that we have an agent who has done the job before and knows what to look for.
The greatest challenge was finding ten people with the right addresses willing to sign the nomination. Since my life doesn't revolve around my own neighbourhood, it made little difference that I'm not standing in the ward where I live, but one on the other side of the town. A number of names had been suggested of party members and supporters living in that ward, but it seemed awkward approaching complete strangers, however committed they might be to the same cause as me.
On Tuesday morning I started working through the list; many were not at home and others had valid reasons for not signing but, after another round of calls later, by that evening I'd added two party members to the four names I had already collected by asking friends at a singing practice on Monday evening. The bad weather on Wednesday didn't inspire me to go knocking on doors but, after resorting to a telephoned appeal and taking advantage of a lull in the rain, I was able to complete the task ready for the visit of the agent yesterday morning to collect all the papers.
Now they are handed over, life can return to things familiar and less demanding. I can reflect with pleasure on last weekend, when the ringers' outing to Warwickshire went smoothly, despite a couple of last minute hitches over a pub that was closed and one church whose bells were away being re-tuned. Four of us took a detour after Sunday morning's ringing to visit a National Trust property nearby, which provided a good idea of life in Victorian England lived in an originally pre-Tudor country house ... as well as lunch!
While I was away, enjoying another part of the country, my home church was receiving the very welcome news of the appointment of a new vicar, someone who is at present the curate in a parish in the neighbouring town, and so already known to us. It will still be some weeks before we see her installed in her new post, but at least we can begin the summer in the confidence that our spiritual leadership is secure.
Friday, 30 March 2018
Friday, 23 March 2018
"Getting to Hartlepool"
I must begin this week's narrative where last week's left off, deciding what to reinstall on my computer and what to ignore. By Friday evening, I'd made all the necessary decisions and was looking forward to life getting back to normal. My technological environment had other plans, however. On Saturday morning when I pressed the 'on' button, even less happened than on the first day of chaos ... absolutely nothing.
I felt really blessed that there had been - amongst all that now fruitless recovery and re-installation - an opportunity to print out not only the prayers I had drafted for Sunday's service, but a cinema ticket for Saturday night and some other paperwork that I wouldn't now be able to download. I'd also had the foresight to place an order for a new computer, partly as a stand-by lest this one should finally expire, as now it had, and partly using the circumstance as an excuse to get a smaller machine that would be easier to take with me to meetings and so on.
The new 'toy' was delivered on Monday afternoon. Before then came a period of silence. It's all very well teasing modern youth about being unable to live without their mobile phones ... the same is true for silver surfers! I was very glad that, only last month, I'd been prompted to take the long deferred step of upgrading my mobile phone. That became my only, and very effective, link with e-mails and social media - and, indeed, the internet! - in ways that would have been completely beyond the capability of the instrument it succeeded.
Having gone through the re-installation exercise only days before, I now - like Wenceslas' servant - had footsteps in which to tread, a necessary facility which made the second pass all the more simple, hindered as it was only by the constant interruption to allow for countless updates. These were made necessary by the reason, I concluded, that this high-spec. machine was going so cheaply, viz. it had a version of Windows that was shortly to be without support. Despite the assurances that the updates would carry on in the background so I could continue with my work, I found that, when the work consisted of installing programs, this wasn't the case and I think the whole update sequence had to restart at least twice!
Eventually, it was done, and I could look back and reflect on the overall experience. The whole business was made more difficult because my 'system', such as it is, has grown 'like Topsy', with some data adhering to Microsoft's recommended programs, and others equally dependent on what Mr Google has to offer, that is compatible with the mobile phone, and yet more stuff that is esoteric and totally independent. The same is true, I suspect, of many mid-level businesses - such as some for whom I have worked in the past - where only someone who has worked there through all the technological changes has a really overall view of what routine is dependent on what others.
While not strictly related, one story that came to mind is worth the re-telling here. The PA to the MD of one of my employers was known to be very efficient, and in many ways was the go-to person I've just described. She did have one annoying failing, however. It would be wrong to call it a fault (I hope there is a difference between 'fault' and 'failing'!), because in many situations it would be a blessing. If she encountered a difficulty, she would readily confess her need and turn to others for help, but would begin her plea by outlining the nature of the wall that was blocking her path.
I was so often the receiver of these pleas that I coined a phrase that explained in a nutshell, I thought, the nature of her 'failing'. She was "trying to get to Hartlepool by going to Ipswich". We all lost track of the time we lost trying to help her with her immediate difficulties with a problem encountered as, knowing the office systems inside out, she retraced steps with which she was familiar. Had we known from the beginning what it was she actually sought to achieve, we often would have been able to suggest a completely different, but simpler, way to achieve the desired result.
That's just the sort of story I should remember this weekend, as I join a band of others to explore half a dozen rings of church bells in Warwickshire. I must remain focused on the ultimate destination, rather than the traffic jam just ahead. In some ways, it could be like being at work again!
I felt really blessed that there had been - amongst all that now fruitless recovery and re-installation - an opportunity to print out not only the prayers I had drafted for Sunday's service, but a cinema ticket for Saturday night and some other paperwork that I wouldn't now be able to download. I'd also had the foresight to place an order for a new computer, partly as a stand-by lest this one should finally expire, as now it had, and partly using the circumstance as an excuse to get a smaller machine that would be easier to take with me to meetings and so on.
The new 'toy' was delivered on Monday afternoon. Before then came a period of silence. It's all very well teasing modern youth about being unable to live without their mobile phones ... the same is true for silver surfers! I was very glad that, only last month, I'd been prompted to take the long deferred step of upgrading my mobile phone. That became my only, and very effective, link with e-mails and social media - and, indeed, the internet! - in ways that would have been completely beyond the capability of the instrument it succeeded.
Having gone through the re-installation exercise only days before, I now - like Wenceslas' servant - had footsteps in which to tread, a necessary facility which made the second pass all the more simple, hindered as it was only by the constant interruption to allow for countless updates. These were made necessary by the reason, I concluded, that this high-spec. machine was going so cheaply, viz. it had a version of Windows that was shortly to be without support. Despite the assurances that the updates would carry on in the background so I could continue with my work, I found that, when the work consisted of installing programs, this wasn't the case and I think the whole update sequence had to restart at least twice!
Eventually, it was done, and I could look back and reflect on the overall experience. The whole business was made more difficult because my 'system', such as it is, has grown 'like Topsy', with some data adhering to Microsoft's recommended programs, and others equally dependent on what Mr Google has to offer, that is compatible with the mobile phone, and yet more stuff that is esoteric and totally independent. The same is true, I suspect, of many mid-level businesses - such as some for whom I have worked in the past - where only someone who has worked there through all the technological changes has a really overall view of what routine is dependent on what others.
While not strictly related, one story that came to mind is worth the re-telling here. The PA to the MD of one of my employers was known to be very efficient, and in many ways was the go-to person I've just described. She did have one annoying failing, however. It would be wrong to call it a fault (I hope there is a difference between 'fault' and 'failing'!), because in many situations it would be a blessing. If she encountered a difficulty, she would readily confess her need and turn to others for help, but would begin her plea by outlining the nature of the wall that was blocking her path.
I was so often the receiver of these pleas that I coined a phrase that explained in a nutshell, I thought, the nature of her 'failing'. She was "trying to get to Hartlepool by going to Ipswich". We all lost track of the time we lost trying to help her with her immediate difficulties with a problem encountered as, knowing the office systems inside out, she retraced steps with which she was familiar. Had we known from the beginning what it was she actually sought to achieve, we often would have been able to suggest a completely different, but simpler, way to achieve the desired result.
That's just the sort of story I should remember this weekend, as I join a band of others to explore half a dozen rings of church bells in Warwickshire. I must remain focused on the ultimate destination, rather than the traffic jam just ahead. In some ways, it could be like being at work again!
Friday, 16 March 2018
Time for Reflection
Opposite my kitchen window is a car-parts store whose staff are very helpful. As I waited for my kettle to boil this afternoon my attention was drawn to an elderly sports car parked outside the door. As I watched, a member of staff emerged from the car and went into the shop. The driver looked down despondently into the car and stroked his chin thoughtfully. I didn't have to be a mind-reader: "Hmm ... this is going to cost me!" It's a thought that had been in my own mind earlier this week.
On Sunday morning, in a chat with the churchwarden over coffee after the morning service, I'd been asked to undertake a specific and relatively urgent task that posed an exciting challenge. My week therefore began in high spirits. I came home from the usual men's breakfast on Monday and worked steadily at this project until mid-evening. It was convenient that there was no bell-ringing practice this week - and, indeed, there'll be no more ringing until Easter - because the clappers have been removed from some of the bells and sent away for some maintenance work. Knowing that there was little left to do on my project other than a bit of tidying up, I sat down on Tuesday and switched on the computer.
There was no response. The screen was blank. Only last week I had resumed a long-neglected self-examination exercise and found myself faced with the question, "What feelings might you experience if the most important things of your life were stripped away from you?"* In response I imagined the scenario of my computer either being stolen or irreparably breaking down, and the realisation of just how much of my life is wrapped up in that silver box ... how seriously life would be impeded if it were inaccessible ... even if, thanks to modern restoration technology, not permanently lost. Now that nightmare was becoming reality.
Fortunately, the Garden City boasts a very helpful computer business, and only a day later I was presented with a 'reset' computer, with my rescue data, Windows 10 and not a lot else. Most of Wednesday was spent re-installing all my programs and organising a more readily accessible data back-up system. Meanwhile the experience made me question what is actually important to me. I may not have formulated any specific answers, but the thought process itself is far from wasted energy.
Yesterday, I was volunteering at the drop-in for homeless and disadvantaged people in our area, which always reminds me how grateful I have been to such resources during a particularly difficult time in my life. A particular couple from our church, a young helper and her three-year-old daughter, hadn't been lately but were there yesterday and it was lovely to see the little girl's delight at some toys that one of those being helped had brought for her. In a way it was kindness rewarded, but to me it was a reminder of what human relationships are really all about: an unexpected answer to the questions I've been asking myself this week.
Yesterday evening I went along to a dinner organised by the men's group at the church. Some of those present are London commuters and so the start was quite late to allow them to get home from work. It was great to be part of a lively - and sometimes noisy - bunch, exchanging experiences, preferences, problems and achievements over a meal.
Now, in keeping with the theme of the week, 'what's important?', I can decide not to restore a number of minor programs that have been cluttering up my computer unused for some while, and introduce a few changes that are long overdue, looking forward to a more streamlined future. It all sounds wonderful policy-talk; watch this space as reality unfolds!
On Sunday morning, in a chat with the churchwarden over coffee after the morning service, I'd been asked to undertake a specific and relatively urgent task that posed an exciting challenge. My week therefore began in high spirits. I came home from the usual men's breakfast on Monday and worked steadily at this project until mid-evening. It was convenient that there was no bell-ringing practice this week - and, indeed, there'll be no more ringing until Easter - because the clappers have been removed from some of the bells and sent away for some maintenance work. Knowing that there was little left to do on my project other than a bit of tidying up, I sat down on Tuesday and switched on the computer.
There was no response. The screen was blank. Only last week I had resumed a long-neglected self-examination exercise and found myself faced with the question, "What feelings might you experience if the most important things of your life were stripped away from you?"* In response I imagined the scenario of my computer either being stolen or irreparably breaking down, and the realisation of just how much of my life is wrapped up in that silver box ... how seriously life would be impeded if it were inaccessible ... even if, thanks to modern restoration technology, not permanently lost. Now that nightmare was becoming reality.
Fortunately, the Garden City boasts a very helpful computer business, and only a day later I was presented with a 'reset' computer, with my rescue data, Windows 10 and not a lot else. Most of Wednesday was spent re-installing all my programs and organising a more readily accessible data back-up system. Meanwhile the experience made me question what is actually important to me. I may not have formulated any specific answers, but the thought process itself is far from wasted energy.
Yesterday, I was volunteering at the drop-in for homeless and disadvantaged people in our area, which always reminds me how grateful I have been to such resources during a particularly difficult time in my life. A particular couple from our church, a young helper and her three-year-old daughter, hadn't been lately but were there yesterday and it was lovely to see the little girl's delight at some toys that one of those being helped had brought for her. In a way it was kindness rewarded, but to me it was a reminder of what human relationships are really all about: an unexpected answer to the questions I've been asking myself this week.
Yesterday evening I went along to a dinner organised by the men's group at the church. Some of those present are London commuters and so the start was quite late to allow them to get home from work. It was great to be part of a lively - and sometimes noisy - bunch, exchanging experiences, preferences, problems and achievements over a meal.
Now, in keeping with the theme of the week, 'what's important?', I can decide not to restore a number of minor programs that have been cluttering up my computer unused for some while, and introduce a few changes that are long overdue, looking forward to a more streamlined future. It all sounds wonderful policy-talk; watch this space as reality unfolds!
*- "Forgetful Heart", by Lucy Mills (Darton, Longman & Todd, 2014)
Friday, 9 March 2018
History Repeating Itself?
Before I come to my 'headline story', let me record that this has been a good week for me, work-wise. Work these days, of course, isn't of the employed kind, but nevertheless does see me tied to the desk for a large part of the time. Monday morning, though, found me crawling on the floor - playing, almost - as I cleansed all the personal data from a number of digital devices in readiness for their being donated to a worthy cause ... and being more useful than at any time in the past number of years stashed away in my sideboard!
Desk-bound successes have included drafting two editions of my 'other blog', ready for publication in mid-March and at Easter-time. You can find this (as the note alongside here tells you) at https://gospelaroundus.com/. In doing this, I spent some while discovering how I can blend two pictures into one in order to illustrate one of these posts. As is often the case, by the time you've achieved something, you realise that you've travelled three sides of the field, when to have gone along the fourth side would have been far quicker ... and you'll know which way to go next time!
I've also managed to upload my family history record to my mobile phone. It's perhaps typical of so-called 'phone use' these days that, in the two weeks I've had this instrument, I've yet to actually make a call on it ... and yet it has been very useful in so many other ways.
So, does history repeat itself? In my working life, as longer-term readers of this blog will recall, I certainly claimed that it did: what I used to refer to as the 'repeating genie'. Reflecting this morning on the events of the week I realised that, albeit with a very different overcoat, they had followed a pattern that had been my good fortune over twenty years ago.
My employer, a tax avoidance consultant, had planned for me to join him on a visit to one of our contacts in mid-Europe. It was essentially a meet-and-greet visit, during which I might be able to resolve a few minor queries with a member of his staff. The appointment was made and flights and accommodation had been arranged when, two or three days before I was due to depart, an emergency unfolded which made it necessary for my boss to grab the slot that I was to fill in my European host's diary, in order to resolve our client's problems.
Knowing how much I had been looking forward to the trip, he suggested that my wife and I might like a break so, since all the arrangements had been made, why not make use of them for a few days away anyway? Naturally, we were only too willing to take advantage of this, and enjoy the autumn sunshine in a foreign land.
Back in the present, plans had been made for a meeting yesterday afternoon with one of our churchwardens to discuss some work she wanted me to undertake. On Wednesday, however, I had a message asking me if I'd mind putting this off until next week because something more urgent had come up that needed her full attention. Hence, at the last minute, I now had a free day. Instead of lounging about at home, I decided to plan a day out, and selected a couple of properties from the National Trust handbook which would make a convenient triangular itinerary.
The first was a bit of a mistake, through not reading the entry as thoroughly as perhaps I should have. I arrived to find that only the gardens and grounds were open, and not the hall, to which a guided tour would have been available on any other weekday! I decided to find somewhere for a snack and then move on to my second venue which, since it has no roof, I had anticipated being something of an anti-climax. After the disappointment at my first stop, an anticlimax would have been difficult!
And so it turned out. It was certainly cold, and I didn't hang about to wander in the grounds, but the building I found was - to me, at any rate, although I realise not everyone would be so enthralled - absolutely fascinating. This treasure is Lyveden, not far from Oundle in Northamptonshire.
The Tudor worthy Sir Thomas Tresham had decided to build a garden lodge and develop an ornamental garden between it and his manor house. Ten years into the project, Sir Thomas died and, when his son was arraigned shortly afterwards as part of the aftermath of the Gunpowder Plot, the workmen realised that they wouldn't be getting paid any more, they downed tools and left the property just as it is today: an ornate, superbly constructed shell.
The carvings and ornamentation are not only of the finest quality, but are most absorbing; indeed the whole building is a celebration of Catholic symbolism ... down to the fact that the overall width of the structure is 243 feet. This being the fifth power of three, it was so determined in order to pay tribute to the Holy Trinity and also the five wounds of Christ on the Cross! The rest I will leave my readers to find out for themselves should they decide to visit.
Desk-bound successes have included drafting two editions of my 'other blog', ready for publication in mid-March and at Easter-time. You can find this (as the note alongside here tells you) at https://gospelaroundus.com/. In doing this, I spent some while discovering how I can blend two pictures into one in order to illustrate one of these posts. As is often the case, by the time you've achieved something, you realise that you've travelled three sides of the field, when to have gone along the fourth side would have been far quicker ... and you'll know which way to go next time!
I've also managed to upload my family history record to my mobile phone. It's perhaps typical of so-called 'phone use' these days that, in the two weeks I've had this instrument, I've yet to actually make a call on it ... and yet it has been very useful in so many other ways.
So, does history repeat itself? In my working life, as longer-term readers of this blog will recall, I certainly claimed that it did: what I used to refer to as the 'repeating genie'. Reflecting this morning on the events of the week I realised that, albeit with a very different overcoat, they had followed a pattern that had been my good fortune over twenty years ago.
My employer, a tax avoidance consultant, had planned for me to join him on a visit to one of our contacts in mid-Europe. It was essentially a meet-and-greet visit, during which I might be able to resolve a few minor queries with a member of his staff. The appointment was made and flights and accommodation had been arranged when, two or three days before I was due to depart, an emergency unfolded which made it necessary for my boss to grab the slot that I was to fill in my European host's diary, in order to resolve our client's problems.
Knowing how much I had been looking forward to the trip, he suggested that my wife and I might like a break so, since all the arrangements had been made, why not make use of them for a few days away anyway? Naturally, we were only too willing to take advantage of this, and enjoy the autumn sunshine in a foreign land.
Back in the present, plans had been made for a meeting yesterday afternoon with one of our churchwardens to discuss some work she wanted me to undertake. On Wednesday, however, I had a message asking me if I'd mind putting this off until next week because something more urgent had come up that needed her full attention. Hence, at the last minute, I now had a free day. Instead of lounging about at home, I decided to plan a day out, and selected a couple of properties from the National Trust handbook which would make a convenient triangular itinerary.
The first was a bit of a mistake, through not reading the entry as thoroughly as perhaps I should have. I arrived to find that only the gardens and grounds were open, and not the hall, to which a guided tour would have been available on any other weekday! I decided to find somewhere for a snack and then move on to my second venue which, since it has no roof, I had anticipated being something of an anti-climax. After the disappointment at my first stop, an anticlimax would have been difficult!
 |
| Lyveden New Bield |
 |
| The ornate frieze featuring a sequence of 7 designs relating to the Crucifixion |
The carvings and ornamentation are not only of the finest quality, but are most absorbing; indeed the whole building is a celebration of Catholic symbolism ... down to the fact that the overall width of the structure is 243 feet. This being the fifth power of three, it was so determined in order to pay tribute to the Holy Trinity and also the five wounds of Christ on the Cross! The rest I will leave my readers to find out for themselves should they decide to visit.
Saturday, 3 March 2018
All White on the Night!
You know how it is when you face a task that you're not quite sure how to attack? Almost inevitably, you put it off, time after time. Eventually the back burner gets so fed up with it that it kicks it back! It was a job like that that shared top billing this week with the 'Beast from the East'.
The Beast kept me cold at night ... sleep has been at a premium, and only in bursts, despite an aggregate four blankets on top of the bed! Meanwhile, the afore-mentioned postponed job provided the excitement - if indeed that's the right word - in the daytime, at least for half of the week. The challenge was that of compiling a Fire Safety Risk Assessment for the church. It's the sort of requirement that is to a great extent common sense, and has been so for many years, but a conscientious pair of churchwardens decided it's about time ours was put in writing. The original 'thinking through' was first carried out many years ago and, although the resulting precautions are rigidly adhered to, the re-creation of those thought processes of yore has proved very hard.
At last, over the course of last weekend, it became clear to me how this should be achieved, and much of my week's confinement because of the snow and the cold was expended in studying the official handouts and compiling two sources into a draft document that key personnel in the church can now come together to discuss. Task - for the moment, at least - off my desk!
So, what else has occupied the week? Last week I announced the arrival of a new phone. An early conversation on Monday - following my joy at going out at 6.0 a.m., with the temperature -2.5 degrees, and being able to sweep the dry snow off the car with no scraping involved - drew my attention to a very useful follow-up. A year or so ago, I had abandoned my Google calendar when Google - or my computer - was playing up, and I couldn't always open the diary when I needed. That problem has long passed, but now, with a new phone that's got lots of spare memory, I was able to move the calendar back to Google and sync it with the phone app.
Twice, later in the week, I was very glad that I'd taken that step, when I was asked, 'do you have your diary with you?' and I was able to make an appointment for next week and a day later to change my arrangements on a rota for the end of March.
On Thursday, I finally got around to checking on a cousin whom I 'discovered' last year through my family history researches. At that time, our exchanges informed me that she was facing a number of problems. 'If I'm quiet for a time', she told me, 'you'll know the reason.' Later, I received a response that began 'you must be psychic!'. She'd been thinking in recent days about catching up with me. It's nice when that sort of thing happens, and to be hoped that no further problems prevent us getting to know each other a bit better, and catching up with sixty-odd years of our respective histories.
One final forward-looking piece of news to round off the week was the arrival yesterday of the much-awaited programme for the ringers' weekend challenge, which is now less than a month away. It's to be hoped that all thoughts of snow will be firmly confined to the winter, as we greet spring with a trip to Warwickshire.
The Beast kept me cold at night ... sleep has been at a premium, and only in bursts, despite an aggregate four blankets on top of the bed! Meanwhile, the afore-mentioned postponed job provided the excitement - if indeed that's the right word - in the daytime, at least for half of the week. The challenge was that of compiling a Fire Safety Risk Assessment for the church. It's the sort of requirement that is to a great extent common sense, and has been so for many years, but a conscientious pair of churchwardens decided it's about time ours was put in writing. The original 'thinking through' was first carried out many years ago and, although the resulting precautions are rigidly adhered to, the re-creation of those thought processes of yore has proved very hard.
At last, over the course of last weekend, it became clear to me how this should be achieved, and much of my week's confinement because of the snow and the cold was expended in studying the official handouts and compiling two sources into a draft document that key personnel in the church can now come together to discuss. Task - for the moment, at least - off my desk!
So, what else has occupied the week? Last week I announced the arrival of a new phone. An early conversation on Monday - following my joy at going out at 6.0 a.m., with the temperature -2.5 degrees, and being able to sweep the dry snow off the car with no scraping involved - drew my attention to a very useful follow-up. A year or so ago, I had abandoned my Google calendar when Google - or my computer - was playing up, and I couldn't always open the diary when I needed. That problem has long passed, but now, with a new phone that's got lots of spare memory, I was able to move the calendar back to Google and sync it with the phone app.
Twice, later in the week, I was very glad that I'd taken that step, when I was asked, 'do you have your diary with you?' and I was able to make an appointment for next week and a day later to change my arrangements on a rota for the end of March.
On Thursday, I finally got around to checking on a cousin whom I 'discovered' last year through my family history researches. At that time, our exchanges informed me that she was facing a number of problems. 'If I'm quiet for a time', she told me, 'you'll know the reason.' Later, I received a response that began 'you must be psychic!'. She'd been thinking in recent days about catching up with me. It's nice when that sort of thing happens, and to be hoped that no further problems prevent us getting to know each other a bit better, and catching up with sixty-odd years of our respective histories.
One final forward-looking piece of news to round off the week was the arrival yesterday of the much-awaited programme for the ringers' weekend challenge, which is now less than a month away. It's to be hoped that all thoughts of snow will be firmly confined to the winter, as we greet spring with a trip to Warwickshire.
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