Up to town

London today on the red eye at 0645 for the Council of the Mission to Seafarers. I don’t normally turn up but, since we’ll be looking for money from them at their next meeting, I thought the least I could do was to turn up when I wasn’t, as it were. And it was over at lunchtime so I headed for an internet cafe to try and catch up on some written stuff. It felt very bizarre – the place was full of nubile Spanish students who seemed to be chattering about their relationships on Instant Messanger while simultaneously talking on Skype to Mama back in Sevilla telling how much they were missing her. It’s fortunate that the new generation is so good at multi-tasking and doesn’t get the two mixed up. I sat in the middle of it all in full episcopal kit – not the mitre – writing about vocation and ministry. Time to get a life, I suspect. Tomorrow is Inverness for another bit of the bishop-appointing process for the Diocese of Moray. The more I see of it, the more I wonder at what working of the divine will or expression of the divine sense of humour landed me where I am.

Meantime Poppy has been reading Isaiah 40. She’s not quite ‘eagles’ wings’ yet – still distinctly wobbly but improving. She can jump on and off the computer desk which is more than I can do.

If it wasn’t so late, I would be exploring another of the list things that I like so much – books read/unread, etc. This one is the suggestion that most of us only have four recipes. ‘Nonsense’ I said and then started listing my limited personal repertoire. No doubt my colleagues are well into double figures. Of which more another day.

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