Izzy Whizzy, Let's get Busy!

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.