Glasgow and New York

Must be the worst sign-posting in the world.  Where else has roundabouts without any signs on the exits?  I ended up on the A73 heading south when I should have been going north but couldn’t get back.  Must be a sermon lurking in there somewhere.  Anyway, I lost about 40 minutes on my way home from Coatbridge, visited Falkirk involuntarily and thought the faithful Passat was going to run out of diesel.  Falkirk is the place where it took me 25 minutes to find the hospital.   I also spent part of the day with Mothers’ Union who had a lunch in Perth attended by 130 members from all over Scotland. All clergy, if they are wise, treat MU with the utmost respect.  But I do remember another ‘Eats shoots and leaves’ moment when we went to the parish long years ago.  One of the members claimed that they were the ‘biggest Mothers’ Union in the diocese’.  Anyway, today they kindly gave me a copy of ‘even angels tread softly’ – a rather remarkable collection of poetry.  One about 9/11 begins, ‘This morning I donned my shroud/ – smart suit, high heels, handbag/ and strode out into my ordered commercial day.’

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